Louise M. Gouge (11 page)

Chapter Seventeen

“S
hall we visit my niece, Miss Newfield?” Major Grenville asked Anna after breakfast. “The snow is too deep for your riding lesson. And Mother will be answering her correspondence for the next hour or so.”

“I would enjoy it very much, Major, but I fear Mrs. Grenville would not like—”

“Nonsense.” He offered his arm. When she hesitated, he took her hand and tugged her toward the staircase. “Come along. I will manage Mary.”

Anna doubted he could accomplish that task when the lady’s own husband could not. “Very well. If you insist.”

When the major knocked on the door of the suite, a manservant admitted them to the sitting room, where Mr. Grenville sat writing at a desk. He rose and welcomed them.

“Miss Newfield, I hardly know how to thank you for helping last night.” Dark circles framed his eyes, but he wore a smile of contentment.

“It was my pleasure, sir,” Anna said. “Is there anything I can do this morning?”

“Let me think.” He furrowed his forehead as if in thought. “The midwife is tending to Mrs. Grenville. The wet nurse from the village has arrived and set up the nursery in the small room off the bedchamber. We have sufficient infant apparel.” His face relaxed back into a smile. “I believe we have it all in hand, but I thank you for asking.”

“Well, then.” The major eyed the closed bedchamber door. “May we see the newcomer?”

“Yes, of course.” Mr. Grenville took a step in that direction. “Let me check with Mary.” He paused. “Did Mother say anything about our failure to appear at breakfast?”

The major did not meet his brother’s gaze. “No, but surely you can be excused from her rituals at a time like this, especially Mary.”

Mr. Grenville shrugged. “One would hope so.” He proceeded to the door and knocked softly.

The midwife answered and, after asking Mrs. Grenville’s permission, waved them in. Anna looked at the lady to see if she would send her away, but her eyes were on her husband. Although she appeared weary as she lay against her pillows, there was also a serenity emanating from her eyes that Anna had seen in other new mothers.

“Come in.” She reached out to Mr. Grenville. “Edmond, have you seen her?”

“I have, dear sister, but it was last night. May I see her again?” The major sounded like a child on Christmas morning, and Anna’s heart leapt.
Papá
and Peter had always expressed a similar interest in babies born in Blandon. One day this man would make a wonderful father.

“Of course. Ruth.” Mrs. Grenville called to the wet nurse, who brought the infant to her mother without delay. “Come here, my darling.” She nuzzled and cooed to the child for several moments.

Tears sprang to Anna’s eyes as a multitude of emotions churned within her. Oh, how she would love a child of her own, but as Mrs. Grenville had reminded her last night, she was a spinster unlikely ever to marry.

“Here, Edmond. You must hold her.” Mrs. Grenville lifted the baby into his arms.

The major’s eyes shone with wonder as they had the night before. “How do you do, little one. I am your uncle Edmond, and I would be very pleased to give you the world.”

Everyone chuckled. Mr. Grenville added a humorous harrumph. “You will have to vie with me for that honor.” As if to confirm the challenge, he took the infant from his brother.

“What’s happening in here?” Lord Greystone entered the room on the arm of his valet. Finely dressed in a blue jacket and tan breeches, he looked emaciated, but his color was much improved. “Where is my niece?”

Surprised at his appearance, Anna stepped back to watch the family scene unfold. Thus far she had found the viscount a well-mannered gentleman, but how much more admirable that he should rise from his convalescence, dress as if going out and come across the hallway to welcome the baby. Clearly the new parents were delighted by his courtesy, for they drew him into the family circle. While he declined to hold her, he grinned as broadly as his brothers and made foolish promises to spoil her in every possible way.

“What have you named her?” Major Grenville asked.

Mrs. Grenville eyed her husband.

The clergyman cleared his throat. “Um, we were hoping Mother would claim that honor.”

Lord Greystone stared at him. “Has she not come to meet her granddaughter?”

The new mother studied her hands and chewed her bottom lip.

Her husband shrugged. “I am certain she’s busy…”

“Busy?” Lord Greystone blew out an impatient sigh. “Of course.” He clenched his jaw.

Anna saw Major Grenville mirror his expression.

“Well,” the viscount went on, “you have given me just cause to hasten my recuperation, for I must not miss a moment of my niece’s delightful company. And if you do not name her soon, I shall call her Queen Mab or, mayhap, Titania, for she is a tiny winged creature who has enchanted all our hearts.” His words brought forth many chuckles and words of agreement. “Now, we must search the attic and bring down the rocking horse and the tin soldiers and—”

“What? Are you mad?” The major eyed him with disbelief. “She must have dolls and bonnets and gowns. And of course a tea set.”

While the father and uncles argued about the appropriate toys to shower upon the baby, Anna puckered her lips to keep from laughing at the good humor filling the room. Somehow these brothers had managed to keep from their hearts the bitterness that afflicted their mother. Or at least so it seemed to her.

The baby emitted a tiny cry, and the country midwife pushed her way into the midst of the aristocratic gentlemen. “See here now.” She took the child from the father and handed her to the wet nurse. “Be gone, the lot of you, and let this lady rest.”

Complaining like schoolboys sent back to their books, the brothers filed out of the bedchamber and took their boasting to the sitting room. Anna started after them, planning to find Lady Greystone and see if she required anything.

“Miss Newfield,” Mrs. Grenville called out.

Misgiving filled Anna, but she turned back and made her way to the bedside. “Yes, madam?”

Lying back against her pillows, the lady appeared drained of all strength. “Mr. Grenville reminded me that you were most helpful during our child’s birth.” Her tone sounded almost conciliatory.

“I do hope so, madam.” Anna tried without success to dismiss her wariness.

The lady gave her a weary smile. “You were.” Her eyes closed, and she sighed. “I am grateful.”

Anna waited until it became apparent the new mother had fallen to sleep and then slipped out of the room. The Grenville brothers had dispersed, with the clergyman back at the sitting room desk. He gave her a friendly wave before she walked out.

These affirmations of her usefulness lifted Anna’s spirits considerably.
Thank You, Lord.
He had given her a place to serve beyond all that she could have imagined. Assuming Lady Greystone would still be in her private office downstairs, Anna made her way toward the staircase.

“Miss Newfield.” Lord Greystone emerged from his chambers as she passed his door. “A moment, please.”

She stopped. “Yes, my lord.” His door remained open, and Gilly stood just inside—thus propriety was satisfied.

The viscount took her hand and gazed at her. She had never noticed how blue his eyes were, but she had always found dark eyes more appealing. Still, her pulse quickened under his scrutiny because of his august rank. “My dear lady, I am eternally grateful to you.”

Anna stared down at the floor and forced herself not to pull back her hand. “For what, my lord?”

As if sensing her discomfort, he stepped back but did not release her. “A man cannot face his own mortality without considering the condition of his soul. In the midst of my illness, I had thought perhaps I would face my Maker and had no idea how I would present my accounts to Him. After you read the psalm to me, I consulted with Richard, and he explained some of the deeper matters of scripture, including verses that assure a man of his salvation.” He leaned toward her, his eyes burning with intensity. “I found it all a most comforting truth and the path I plan to follow.”

Anna’s eyes filled, and she could only nod and smile.

He straightened but continued to gently squeeze her hand. “Your presence has brought only good to this house and to every member of my family. Be assured that as long as I live, you will have a home at Greystone Lodge. That is, if you are pleased to remain here.”

Anna nodded again, sniffing back her tears. “I thank you, my lord. As long as God wills it, I will remain.”

“What is going on here?” Lady Greystone strode across the landing and stopped inches from Anna. “What are you saying to my son? Do you think someone of your inferior position can so easily set her cap for a nobleman and expect to win his heart?” She flung her arm out toward the staircase. “Get out, and never come back!”

* * *

Edmond heard his mother’s sharp voice ringing through the hallway but could not distinguish her words. Some poor servant had no doubt upset her and was receiving a dressing-down. He sighed at the thought. Since the revelation this morning at breakfast when he at last realized what had made her such a bitter woman, a myriad of thoughts had swirled through his mind, not the least of which was that he longed to break free from her control. But with Uncle Grenville canceling his visit, Edmond despaired of ever achieving it.

Where could he go? What could he do? Without her financial backing and with Greystone prone to bow to her opinions, what choice did he have but to do as she demanded? On the other hand, as Edmond held his niece he’d realized something else. Someday, preferably sooner rather than later, he wanted to marry and have children of his own. But once again, without financial backing, his choices were limited.

Miss Newfield’s lovely face came to mind and his heart warmed. That gentle lady inspired him, even making him feel as if he could accomplish anything he set his mind to. At the very least, her faith was an example to him. He should not be seeking to please Mother, but instead his Heavenly Father. The idea took hold in his mind. He knelt beside his bed, ignoring the painful stiffness in his injured leg, and beseeched God to guide his path.

Chapter Eighteen

“A
t the outset, I thought you were trying to ensnare Edmond.” Lady Greystone sneered at Anna, her hawk-like features sharpening. “But then you learned he had no money and so you set your cap for a much bigger prize. What
gel,
however lowly, can resist the opportunity to win a viscount’s heart?”

“But, my lady—” Shock stalled Anna’s thoughts. What possible explanation could she give? Her heart quaking, she tried to tug her hand away from Lord Greystone’s grasp, but the more she pulled, the tighter he held on. She glanced up to question him, but his indifferent gaze was on his mother.

“Madam, you have done our little sparrow an injustice.” With his free hand, he patted Anna’s shoulder, but somehow it felt different from Major Grenville’s touch, more like the way one would pat a favorite dog. “I was merely thanking her for her faithful attendance upon me during my illness.”

“Sparrow indeed. Really, Greystone, you must depend upon me to sort these things out.” Lady Greystone stared at their joined hands. “You know so little of the wiles of young women.”

“Know so little?” The viscount laughed, but not pleasantly. “After six Seasons in London? Mother, you have no idea.”

Her eyes flared, then narrowed. “Will you release this person’s hand at once?” At her hawk-like glare, Anna trembled, feeling very much like a sparrow about to be devoured. “I have instructed her to leave.”

He gazed down at Anna. “Miss Newfield, would you like for me to release you?”

Hot tears sprang to her eyes. “Yes, my lord. Please.” To her relief, he did so. She dashed across the landing toward her room. Once behind the closed door, she hurried to the wardrobe and began pulling out her clothes, taking care not to remove anything that had belonged to poor Miss Peel. Renewed sympathy for the old companion flitted across Anna’s mind. As she began to fold the clothes and tuck them into her wooden trunk, she faltered, suddenly losing all strength. How would she transport this trunk? Where would she go in the bitter cold snow? And most important, would Major Grenville believe she was innocent of any wrongdoing in regard to Lord Greystone? Try though she might, she had been unable to keep her heart from attaching itself to him. If she lost his regard, how could she bear it?

Slumping to the floor against the trunk, she burst into wracking sobs.

* * *

Edmond stood in the hallway, his jaw agape with disbelief over what he had just witnessed. Moments before, as he knelt beside his bed and prayed for God’s direction, he felt an urgent nudging to seek Greystone. When he emerged from his room and saw Miss Newfield dashing away from his mother and brother, it shook him to the core. Determined to learn why the young lady was being ill-treated, he stalked toward them.

“Now, Mother.” Greystone rested one hand on Mother’s shoulder, a contact Edmond would never dare to make with her. But then, he had never understood the connection between them. “You promised to find me a suitable bride next Season. Why do you think I would settle for a country girl with no connections and no training to be a proper London hostess?”

Mother almost smiled. Almost. “Ah, but a clever chit can get her claws into a wealthy peer in ways other than marriage.”

“Mother!” Reaching where they stood, Edmond could bear it no longer. “What has happened here? Why are you discussing Miss Newfield as if she were some…some camp follower?” It took all of his self-control not to fly into a rage. “Why, she is utterly guileless.”

Greystone’s posture sagged, and his face creased with fatigue. “A misunderstanding, I assure you. I was merely thanking the young lady for her part in my convalescence.” He heaved out a weary sigh. “Which at this moment is far from complete. Gilly.” He beckoned to his valet who stood just inside his suite, his eyes as round as teacups. “Help me to my bed, will you?”

“Here. Lean on me.” Edmond slipped Greystone’s arm over his own shoulder and started to walk him into his room. But his brother held back and eyed Mother.

“You must apologize to Miss Newfield.”

Edmond almost laughed. Never once in his life had he heard Mother apologize for anything.

She lifted her chin for a moment, then glanced toward the east wing. She turned to stare at Edmond, and a chill he could not account for swept up his back.

“Tell her she may stay, but I shall watch her. At the first sign that she has set her cap for either of you, she will be gone.” She spun away from them, crossed the landing and descended the staircase.

Relieved beyond words, Edmond traded a look with Greystone, who appeared more than a little exhausted. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Thank you.” Greystone emitted a weak laugh as they helped him into the room. “You were right all along, Edmond. Be assured that I will never again jest about anything to do with poor Miss Newfield.”

“A wise idea.” Edmond and Gilly helped Greystone to his bed, where the valet began to prepare his sleeping attire. “You must rest now.”

“And you must find a way to inform our little sparrow that she need not fly away.”

“Little sparrow?” Irritation swept through Edmond. “
Our
little sparrow?” He alone was responsible for Miss Newfield, and no matter how weak Greystone was, he must settle this once and for all.

“Never mind.” As he reclined with Gilly’s help, Greystone waved Edmond away. “I truly meant no harm. I shall endeavor to watch my words. Depend upon it.”

“Please, sir?” With a pleading grimace, Gilly tilted his head toward the door.

Edmond expelled a sigh of frustration. “I shall hold you to that promise, Greystone.” He left the suite intent upon informing Miss Newfield that she could stay. But what if she did not wish to? What if she decided to accept Mr. Partridge’s proposal? And how could he even speak to her without revealing his heart?

The thought brought him up short. What did he feel for her? He could not say it was love, but in these few weeks his attachment had grown considerably beyond a sense of responsibility for his late friend’s sister. After all his worries about Greystone’s teasing, he himself had used humor to try to deny his increasing affection, to no avail.

All this pondering did not get the job done. He approached the east wing with some trepidation but determined to complete his duty. With only a little hesitation, he scratched at Miss Newfield’s door and heard a shuffling on the other side.

“Yes?” Her muffled voice sounded deeper than usual—deeper and utterly despondent, as if she had been crying.

His heart constricted, and he prayed for some way to give her the news and still save her pride. But what a ludicrous thought. How did a man save the pride of the humblest person he had ever known? One idea came to him.

“Miss Newfield, Lady Greystone will require your assistance in planning the Christmas party we give every year for the villagers.”

A soft gasp, or perhaps the rustling of her gown, sounded through the door. She opened it no more than an inch. “Are you certain?”

The sight of her red-rimmed eyes twisted a knife into his soul. Fighting the temptation to pull her into a comforting embrace, he coughed away his emotions. “Oh, yes. It’s quite the affair. Decorations, Christmas trees, hired musicians, even a small gift for every person. It takes over a month to prepare. The whole household must work in the evenings to complete it all in time.”

Her eyes widening in disbelief, she opened the door another inch. “But surely Lady Greystone does not wish me to help. She has ordered me…”

Edmond could not stop himself. He grasped her hand and brought it up to his lips for a gentle kiss. “My dear Miss Newfield, Lady Greystone does not apologize.”

“Please, Major.” She snatched her hand back and stared down the hallway toward Mother’s door, fear written across her fair face.

“Yes, of course. Forgive me.” He stepped back. “As I was saying, no apologies, but she does change her mind.”

She searched his eyes, but doubt filled her expression. “Perhaps you can advise me.”

“Of course.” He still wanted to give her a reassuring embrace, but of course that would lead to disaster.

She chewed her lip for a moment, then hope flickered in her eyes. “Should I go about my duties as if nothing happened?”

“An excellent plan.” Clever girl. How quickly she had recovered from a cruel blow. Now he should go to his room or risk saying and doing something that would land her back in trouble. But he found the idea of leaving her presence most disagreeable. “If the day warms a bit this afternoon, we should have a riding lesson.”

Joy blossomed on her face like a spring flower. “Oh, yes. That would be lovely. If Lady Greystone does not object—”

Edmond snickered. “Why, Miss Newfield, we will simply be obeying orders.” He bent forward in an elaborate bow. “Until this afternoon.”

She gave him a deep curtsey and a merry—though teary—smile that sent happiness blasting through him. “Until then.”

Edmond did not remember walking back to his bedchamber, but he found himself on his balcony praying that the sun would break through the haze and warm the afternoon. Then he and his little sparrow could fly free, if only for a few hours.

* * *

For a moment after she closed her door, Anna thought she might faint from the myriad of thoughts and emotions swirling through her. This morning had been most challenging, much like riding Bella at a trot with all of its bumpy ups and downs. First, the blessing of knowing she had served God’s purpose in this house. Then the horror of being misunderstood. Finally, restoration.

If it was a test from the Lord, she had failed, of course. Instead of crumpling into a weepy heap of self-pity, she should have trusted Him to take care of her even if she were cast out. Or perhaps the next time Lady Greystone set upon her so unreasonably, she should stand up to her. But that idea held no appeal and could lead to a true and irreversible dismissal. After all, God had provided her a defender when Lord Greystone explained away the innocent situation.

Anna unpacked her clothes and hung or folded them into the wardrobe. Just as with her belongings, order had been restored in her life. Yet she could not help but wonder what she could do, or not do, in the future to avoid such painful incidents. At least for now, she could look forward to an afternoon with Major Grenville. Oh, how she looked forward to their time together, for in his presence everything seemed good and right, and she did not care how cold it was or how bumpy the ride.