Never a Mistress, No Longer a Maid (5 page)

A groom came running to take his horse.  The door to the
manor opened, then an army of servants rushed out to line up.   The viscount came
out accompanied by Lady Barrington.  They were followed by their three
beautiful daughters.  Diamonds of the first water, all of them.  Ned thought
this might not be such a terrible ordeal after all, if the ladies hadn’t looked
as if they were cats and he a bowl of cream the size of Carlton House.

“Lord Edward, welcome to Barrington!” said the viscount, as
he bowed perilously low for a man quite rotund. 

“Indeed, you are most welcome, Lord Edward,” said Lady
Barrington.  “A duke’s brother!  Such an honored guest to come into our home.  
We are most exceptionally thrilled to accommodate you.  And surely you are
anxious to see your fiancée, the lovely Madeleine.”

“Miss Merriman is indeed lovely, my lady, but as a formal
engagement has not been entered into, I’m sure I cannot claim the privilege of
having her referred to as my fiancée, although it would be an honor to me, I am
sure.”

With that pointed-yet-polite evasion, Ned bent over Miss
Merriman’s hand.  He was surprised to find his lips on her fingers, or, more
accurately, her fingers on his lips, since he couldn’t quite remember bringing
her hand up.    

Ned turned to his host.  “Lord Barrington, it’s been a dreadfully
long day.  I don’t suppose I can bother you for some refreshment?”

“Capital idea, my son.  Tell me, how is the duke?”

With that, they went inside where Ned was determined to have
no more thoughts about the vexing Jane or her passionate responses to his
lightest touch. 

But he knew he had no hope of success.

CHAPTER FOUR

Ned awoke the next morning to the sound of running footsteps.  
They continued to pass back and forth down the hallway outside his room until
finally he gave up all hope of sleep and rang for Rigg.

“Miss Merriman,” said Rigg later as he began to shave his
master, “is quite particular about her clothing.  If she is displeased in even
the slightest way, the entire staff must needs attend her.  And today, she
found a wrinkle on not just one gown – heaven forfend – but on a second in the
distant recess of her rather voluminous wardrobe.”

“And for that her servants had to wake the entire
household?”

“I am quite sure that wasn’t the lady’s intent when she rang
for her maid, then sent her back to the kitchens after boxing the poor girl’s
ears….”

“She struck a servant?”  Ned had no respect for those who
abused their position of privilege.

“My lord, I must ask you to not to speak when I have the
razor at your throat.  It is most disconcerting.  I should not like to be
hanged for slicing your throat open, even if it were to be accidental.”

“And if it should be on purpose?” asked Ned of the man who’d
fought side by side with him in battle and was more friend than servant.

“Then I would hold my head up high for the hangman’s noose. 
If I were so foolish as to be caught.”

“Perhaps I should strike my servants.”

“You could certainly try, my lord.  One wouldn’t want to
wager on your success.”

“What else do they say below stairs?”

“That Miss Merriman and the entire family are thrilled with
the upcoming alliance with the house of Lynwood, although some say they’re
surprised that Miss Merriman would – permission to speak freely, Lieutenant?”

“Granted, before you do so any way.”

“Some are surprised Miss Merriman would ‘settle’ for a
second son.”

Ned waved away Rigg to sit fully upright.  “Do you know, Rigg,
I am actually quite offended.”

Rigg was genuinely contrite.  “I am so sorry, my lord.  Had
I known those words would affect you thus, I never would’ve repeated them.”

“You misunderstand.  I’m not offended for me in the least. 
It is for Lynwood that I take umbrage.  I cannot imagine the duke choosing Miss
Merriman as a bride.  I do not know the lady well, but from the ghastly scene
last night I know her well enough to realize Lynwood would never take her to
wife.”

“I would not presume to know his grace’s mind, my lord.  But
I daresay he’d rather hitch himself to a poxy doxy than that shrew.  Of course,
I mean no disrespect to the lady.”

“Of course not.  How are you and our other servants
settled?”

Rigg had followed Ned in a carriage with the luggage, a
coachman and a groom.   With the speed Ned had reached the village, he’d
regretted going on ahead.  But if he’d stayed with the carriage, he never would’ve
run into Jane.  

“I cannot vouch for the conditions in the stables –
fortunately – but the staff have treated me well, with respect to how the
servants of this household are treated.”

“By your tone, I can presume they’re not treated well?”

“The butler is stiff-arsed, but that lot usually are.  My
biggest concern, besides a roommate who snores, is that they scrimp on food.  I
was about to ask for a second helping last night, until I realized it would
take food away from the more junior servants.”

“I can’t have you starve, Rigg.  I’ll find a way to get you
better meals.”

“I’ve survived on less, as have you.  But I feel for the
poor souls who work here.”

“Are any of the servants talkative?”

“All mistreated servants are talkative, my lord.  Is there
something in particular you’d like to discover?”

“See what you can learn about a lady named Jane. 
Unfortunately, I don’t have a surname for her.  She acts as the surgeon in
these parts for the laborers.  I came across her yesterday when I arrived in
the village.”

“You must’ve been quite taken with her after meeting her
only once.”

“It’s not the first time I met her.”

Rigg raised an eyebrow.

“She’s the Iris Johnston I was searching for.”

“Iris Johnston, my lord!  We searched for that lady for more
than a year.  And she’s here, you say?”

“Yes.  And I intend to speak to her again.”

He needed to speak to her again.  Needed to do more than
talk to her, if he was completely honest with himself.  He wasn’t going to
allow her to disappear again, even if it meant prolonging his stay at
Barrington Manor, a place he had no wish to be.  

After arriving the previous day, Ned had retired to his
rooms to wash the travel dust from himself and rid his mind of the vexing
Jane.  One had been accomplished a great deal easier than the other.  Then he’d
dressed for supper at the ungodly hour of six o’clock, where he’d been seated
to the right of Lady Barrington, to the left of Madeleine’s younger sister
Hortense and directly across from his potential fiancée.

Miss Merriman had certainly been a vision to behold.  She’d
worn a light green silk gown that complemented both the red in her hair and the
blue of her eyes.  She’d been able to convey a world of meaning through looks
and the tilt of her head.  And, unless Ned had been very much mistaken, the
brush of her foot against his leg before the soup course had been anything but
an accident.  Watching the woman’s lips cover a spoon had been positively
indecent and Ned had begun to wonder why none of it was causing even the
tiniest bit of reaction in the region of his body that was seldom shy.

So, in between listening to Viscount Barrington complain
about the indolence of his tenant farmers and Lady Barrington asking that her
good wishes be immediately conveyed to His Grace and the middle sister asking endless
questions about bonnets and feathers, Ned had tried to imagine himself
unwrapping the present that Miss Merriman seemed so determined to give him.

She had a pleasing, curvy body.  Something a man could hold
onto.  She had a mouth made for kissing.  Plump breasts that pressed up against
her bodice.  And she’d certainly seemed to be willing.  Maybe he should give
her a chance.

“So what do you think about our village?” Barrington had
asked.

Ned turned away from Miss Merriman to face his host.  “Quite
charming.  Although, I stumbled across an accident this morning, a farmer who’d
been injured.”

“Farmers,” Miss Merriman had said, shaking her head so her
curls bounced quite prettily.  “They can be so vexing.”

“This one was vexing only to himself.  He needed a surgeon,
but I was told none was available.”

“What do you mean, ‘you were told?’”  asked the Viscount. 
“You didn’t stop, did you?”

“Yes, I did.  Did you not wonder about the spots of blood on
my clothing?”

“We thought you’d shot some game on your ride from the
city,” said Lady Barrington.  “We believed you to be a sporting fellow.”

“How silly you are, Mama,” said Hortense.  “If Lord Edward
had gone shooting, he surely would not have had blood on his clothes.  I
thought perhaps he’d been set upon by brigands.  What a romantic story that
would’ve been.”

“Why did you have blood on your clothes?” asked Miss
Merriman.  “It seemed a terrible waste of a Weston jacket.”

“I helped the man.”

All noise within the room ceased as the family stared at
him, shocked by his admission.  Even the servants gawked at him.

“I used my cravat as a bandage.  If I hadn’t had an extra
one in my saddle bag, I couldn’t have arrived at your door.”

He’d looked at Miss Merriman, who’d seemed intrigued by the
thought of him without a cravat.  Or perhaps she’d been thinking of his jacket
by Weston.  It had been a most excellent coat.

“What did you do once you bandaged the man?” asked Hortense.

“That was what I wanted to ask you about.  A lady named Jane
arrived…”

At once the spell around the table was broken.  At the
mention of Jane, the others exchanged looks.  He thought the youngest sister snorted.

“She’s nothing but an eccentric bluestocking,” said Miss
Merriman with disdain.  “Thinks to run around the countryside pretending to be
a surgeon.”

“They used to be friends,” confided Hortense, as she nodded
to a footman to refill her plate.  “Madeleine and Jane were always together
growing up, until the scandal.”

“What scandal?” asked Ned.

“Well,” Miss Merriman began, altogether delighted to tell. 

She was interrupted by Lady Barrington clearing her throat
so vehemently, one would think an entire side of beef was stuck in it.  “Madeleine,
my dear.  Some things are not discussed at the table and never by ladies.”

Miss Merriman had seemed extremely disappointed to be denied
the chance to blacken her former friend’s name.  And, suddenly, Miss Merriman,
willing or not, had been much less attractive to Ned.

“She touches farmers,” imparted the sister.  “Everywhere.”

“That is enough!” bellowed the Viscount.  “Hortense, you
will take yourself away from the table and go to your room.  Such terrible
manners in front of the brother of a duke!  What will Lynwood think when he
hears of this?”

Hortense rose and left the table in a snit.  Ned made a mental
note to learn in just what capacity Jane touched farmers.

The rest of the evening had passed interminably slowly.  The
ladies had withdrawn, leaving Ned to talk to Barrington about hunting for a
period of time that far exceeded the interest of either men.  Then, when the excellent
cigars from the Americas had been smoked and the awkward silence had stretched
long enough, they joined the ladies.  For the next two hours, the group had played
whist and listened to ladies perform on the pianoforte.   Miss Merriman had
been technically skilled but played with no passion.  As a whist partner, she’d
been shockingly unskilled. As her foot had grazed Ned’s shin for the fourth
time, he’d thought it best to claim fatigue from the journey and retire for the
night. 

He’d given serious consideration to barricading his door.

*                    *                    *               

Freshly shaven and dressed for the country, Ned stole out
the back way, stopping in the kitchen only long enough to shock the staff and
take an apple.  He wondered if the Merriman family had ever stepped into the
servants’ quarters.  Growing up, he and his brothers had gone to the kitchens
at least once a day, usually to steal biscuits from Cook.  The staff at Lynwood
had always been treated with respect.  The only raised voices Ned could
remember between family and servants had been when the servants needed to get
the attention of rambunctious boys with more energy than sense.  The only
physical discipline had been the occasional swats on the bottom from Cook –
with full authorization from their parents.  To this very day, he, Arthur and  Hal
could make Cook turn a delightful shade of red when reminding her how many
times she’d spanked the great Duke of Lynwood. 

As Ned left the Barrington property and walked into the
woods, he thought about his parents and the love they’d showered on their
children and each other.  They’d been gone for eight years, ever since a fever swept
Lynwood Manor in the country, killing both his parents within days of each
other.  As much as it pained all who knew them to lose both at once, theirs was
such a deep bond that it would’ve seemed unnatural and cruel if one had been forced
to live without the other.

That was at the heart of Ned’s dissatisfaction.  He wanted a
marriage like his parents’.  And he didn’t know if it’d be possible.

“You must come down!  I shall be in so much trouble if you
don’t!”

Ned looked up to see a young girl of maybe six or seven
years.  Possibly eight – it was so hard to tell how old children were when you
didn’t have any.  She was turned away from him, looking up into a tree.

“Can I help you with something, miss?”

The girl turned around and froze.  She had blonde hair and
eyes a brilliant shade of green.  She was barefoot.  Obviously a laborer’s
daughter.

“My apologies,” said Ned.  “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“I’m not frightened,” said the girl, sounding a bit
offended.  “I’m just not supposed to talk to people I don’t know.”

“That’s very wise.  My name is Ned.”  He bowed.

“I’m Vi,” she said as she dropped into a curtsy that would
pass muster at Almack’s.

“That’s a very pretty name.”

“Thank you.  You have eyes like mine.”

Ned looked at her eyes a bit closer, but still kept his
distance.  He didn’t want to frighten the girl or offend her once again by
implying he’d frightened her.

“So I do.  They look rather nice on you,” he said.

“Thank you.  They look rather nice on you, too.”

“Thank you.  Now who’s in the tree and why won’t he or she
come down?”

“Titania’s in the tree and she’s the best mouser we’ve got. 
She followed me to the woods and I’m not even supposed to be here.  Now she
won’t come down.”

“Well, Vi, you have a few problems, I’d say.  The first is
you weren’t supposed to come to the woods.”

“But I like it here.”

“I’m sorry to disillusion you at such a young age, but life
is made up of countless things we’d like to do, but, for one reason or another,
we cannot.  So, from here on out, if your papa tells you not to go into the
woods, you should not go.”

“My papa is dead.”

She said it in a very matter-of-fact way that made Ned’s
heart lurch.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.”

The little girl shrugged.

“Then you should obey the person who told you not to go into
the woods, no matter who it was.  That’s the first lesson to be learned.  The
second is your mouser up there will likely come down when she wants to and not
a minute earlier.”