Season's Regency Greetings (3 page)

“
You did, indeed,” he replied. “Sometimes I imagine that the Benchers wish I had been called from another Inn.” He shrugged. “Even my brother Hugo calls this my ‘deranged hobby.'”

The maid came in with coffee, which Cecilia poured. “You are going back to London tomorrow?” she asked.

“
I am, as soon as Hugo and Maria arrive. Lowly Magistrate's Court does not sit during the holiday, but I have depositions to take.” He took a sip and then sat back. “I know my solicitor could do that, but he wanted to spend the week with his family in Kent. I am, as you might suppose, a soft touch for a bare pleading.”

“
I am delighted to have met you, Lord Trevor,” she told him.

The housekeeper stood at the door to the sitting room. Lord Trevor rose, cup in hand, and indicated that Cecilia follow her. “She'll show you to your room. We keep country hours here, so we will eat in an hour.” He winked at the housekeeper, who blushed, but made no attempt to hide the smile in her eyes. “As you can also imagine, there's no need to dress up!”

Smiling now, the housekeeper led her upstairs. “He's a great one, is Lord Trevor,” she said to Cecilia. “We only wish he came around more often.”

“
I suppose he is quite busy in London,” Cecilia said. “Indeed he is,” the woman replied, “even though I sometimes wonder at the low company he keeps.” She stopped then, remembering her position. “Miss Ambrose, your pupil is across the hall. You'll hear the bell for dinner.”

Cecilia decided before dinner that it would be easy to make her excuses the next day when Lord and Lady Falstoke returned, and take the mail coach back to Bath. She would express her concerns about Lucy to the marchioness before she left.

To her consternation, David looked as glum as his sister when he came into the dining room with Lord Trevor, who carried a letter. The man seated himself and looked at his nieces. “I received a post not twenty minutes ago from your parents,” he said.

“
They're not coming home tomorrow,” David said. He looked down at his plate.

“
Why ever not?” Janet asked, indignant. “Don't they know we need them? I mean, really, they took Chambliss with them, and Cook!”

“
Chambliss is our butler,” Lucy whispered to Cecilia.

“
It seems that your older sister needs them more,” Lord Trevor replied, his voice firm. “Do have a little compassion, Janet. They have promised to be here for Christmas. I'll be staying until they return.”

Janet turned stricken eyes upon her uncle. “But they are to host Lysander!”

“
Perhaps the earth will continue to orbit the sun if he has to postpone his arrival for a few days,” Lord Trevor remarked dryly. “David, eat your soup.”

They ate in silence, Lord Trevor obviously reviewing in his mind how this news would change his own plans. Cecilia glanced at Lucy, who whispered, “I will hardly have any time to be with her, before we must return to Bath.”

“
Then the time will be all the more precious, when it comes, my dear,” Cecilia said, thinking of her dear ones in India.

David began to cry. Head down, he tried to choke back his tears, but they flowed anyway. Lord Trevor looked at him in dismay, then at Cecilia. As sorry as she felt for the little boy, she almost smiled at the desperation on the barrister's face. You can argue cases for the lowliest in the dockets, she thought, but your nephew's tears are another matter. She rose from the table. I have absolutely nothing to lose here, she thought. No one should be crying at Christmastime.

She walked over to David's chair and knelt at his side. “This is difficult, isn't it?” she asked him quietly. “I know your mama wishes she were here, too.”

“
She's only twenty miles away!” Lord Trevor exclaimed, exasperated.

“
It's a long way, when you're only—are you six, my dear?” she asked the little boy, who had stopped crying to listen to her. She handed him her napkin.

“
Seven,” he mumbled into the cloth. “I am small for my age.”

“
You know, perhaps we could go belowstairs and ask the cook for ….”

“
Mama never coddles him like that,” Janet said.

“
I would,” Cecilia answered. She looked at Lord Trevor, who was watching her with a smile of appreciation. “Do you mind, sir?”

“
I don't mind at all,” he replied. “Miss Ambrose, do as you see fit.”

Cecilia took David downstairs. The second cook beamed at the boy, and suggested a bowl of the rabbit fricassee left from luncheon. In another minute, he was eating. Cecilia sat beside him, and Cook placed a bowl of stew before her, too. “If you don't mind leftovers,” he said in apology. “I know Lord Trevor don't mind, but there are them above stairs who are a little too high in the instep these days.”

“
Janet makes us eat in the dining room,” David said when he stopped to wipe his mouth. “We always eat in the breakfast room when Mama is here.” He glared at the ceiling. “
She
thinks it is not grand enough.”

“
I think Janet is going through a trying time,” Cecilia said, attempting to keep her face serious.

He shook his head. “Grown-ups do not have trying times.”

They do, she thought. “Perhaps now and then.”

She sat there, content in her surroundings, as David finished the stew. He pushed away the bowl when the cook brought in a tray of gingersnaps with a flourish, and remembered his manners to offer her one.

“
Any left for me?”

You're a quiet man, Cecilia thought as she looked over to see Lord Trevor standing beside his nephew. David made room for his uncle on the bench. He passed the biscuits, even as the cook set a glass of milk in front of Lord Trevor. He dipped a biscuit in the milk and ate it, then looked at her. “Try it, Miss Ambrose. Anyone who reads newspapers can't mind dipping gingersnaps.”

“
Will I never be able to live that down?” she said as she dipped a gingersnap.

He touched David's shoulder. “It is safe to go above stairs now. Your sisters have retired to their room, where Janet, I fear, will continue to brag about darling Lysander.”

“
Oh, dear,” Cecilia murmured. “I have to speak to Lady Falstoke about that.”

“
Then you must remain here through the week,” Lord Trevor told her.

“
I couldn't possibly do that,” she replied as he gestured for her to proceed them up the stairs. “I will write her a letter from Bath.”

The three of them walked down the hall together, uncle and nephew hand in hand. They paused at the foot of the stairs. “David and I will say good night here,” Lord Trevor told her. “I brought my files with me from Lincoln's Inn, and he is helping arrange my 1808 cases alphabetically.”

“
But it is 1810,” she reminded him. “Nearly 1811.”

“
I'm behind.” He ran his long fingers through his hair, a gesture she was coming to recognize. “Not all of us were kissed by the fairy of efficiency at birth, madam!”

She laughed, enjoying that visual picture. He smiled at her, then spoke to David, who went on down the hall.

“
I can't get you to change your mind?” he asked, keeping his voice down. “You can see from my ham handling of David at the dinner table that I need help.” He hesitated. “I seldom stay here until Christmas. Well, I never do.”

“
I am certain you will manage until your brother and sister-in-law return.” Cecilia curtsied to him. “Thank you, Lord Trevor, for your hospitality. If you can arrange for a gig to take me tomorrow to the mail coach stop, I will be on my way to Bath.”

He bowed. “Stubborn woman,” he scolded. “What is the big attraction in Bath?”

There is no big attraction in Bath, she thought. “I …. It's where I live.”

He took her hand. “That is almost as illogical as some of the courtroom arguments I must endure! Good night, Miss Ambrose. We will see you on your way to Bath tomorrow, since you are determined to abandon us.”

“
You are as dramatic as your nieces,” she chided him.

“
I know,” he said cheerfully. “Ain't it a shame?”

She wasn't certain what woke her, hours later. Her first inclination was to roll over and go back to sleep. All was quiet. She sat up and allowed her eyes to focus on the gloom around her. Nothing. She debated whether to get up and look in the hall, but decided against it. That would mean searching for her robe, which she hadn't bothered to unpack, considering the brevity of her visit.

Then she heard it: someone pounding up the stairs and banging on a door down the hall. She leaped out of bed, ran to her door, and opened it at the same time she smelled smoke. Her hand to her throat now, she stepped into the hall. She thought she recognized the footman, even though he was wearing his nightshirt. “My lord! My lord!” he yelled as he banged on the door.

The door opened, and Lord Trevor stepped barefoot into the hall. “Fire, my lord,” the footman said, breathless from dashing up the stairs. “The central chimney!”

Cecilia hurried back into her room, grabbed her traveling case, and threw it out the window. She snatched her cloak, stepped into her shoes, and turned around to see Lord Trevor right behind her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the hall. “Stay here,” he ordered. “You don't know this manor.” Smoke wafted up the stairs like her vision of the last plague of Egypt. She pulled a corner of her cloak across her face to cover her nose, and watched Lord Trevor go in the bedchambers and awaken his nieces and nephew.

He pulled David out first, and thrust him at her. She locked her arms tight around the sleepy child. “We'll wait right here for your uncle,” she whispered into his hair.

Lucinda came next, her eyes wide with fear, and Janet followed, wailing about her clothes. “Shut up, Janet,” her uncle ordered. “Take Lucy's hand and hold mine.”

With his free hand he grabbed Cecilia around the waist and started down the stairs. David coughed and tried to pull away, but she clutched his hand. She put her other arm around Lord Trevor and turned her face into his nightshirt so she could breathe. No one said anything as they groped down the stairs and across the foyer. In another blessed moment the footman, who must have been in front of them in the smoky darkness, flung open the front door. They hurried down the steps into the cold.

Still he did not release her. She kept her face tight against his chest, shivering from fright. If anything, he tightened his grip on her until his fingers were digging into the flesh of her waist. He must have realized then what he was doing, because he opened his hand, even though he did not let go of her.

She forced herself to remain calm, if not for herself, then for the children, and perhaps for Lord Trevor, who surely had more to do now than hold her so tight on the front lawn. She released her grip on his waist then, and stepped back slightly, so he had no choice but to let go.

Before he did, he leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. Because he offered no explanation for his curious act, and no apology, she decided that emergencies did strange things to people who were otherwise rational.

“
Keep everyone here, Cecilia. No one goes back for anything.” He turned and hurried up the steps again.

What about you? she wanted to call after him as he disappeared inside. She gathered his nieces and nephew around her. “We'll be fine, my dears,” she told them, reaching out her arms to embrace them all. They stood together and watched the manor. Although smoke seeped from the front door, she saw no flames.

They endured several more minutes of discomfort, then Lord Trevor and the household staff came around the building from the back. The footman, more dignified with trousers now, carried the grip she had thrown out the window. Lord Trevor had also taken the time to find his own pants and shoes, although he still wore his nightshirt. To her amusement, the housekeeper was fully dressed. I'll wager you would rather have burned to a crisp before leaving your room in a state of semi-dress, she thought.

Lord Trevor hurried to her, the housekeeper and footman following. “Mrs. Grey will escort you and the children to the dower house for the night. It's in that little copse.”

“
Can you save our home, Uncle?” Janet asked, clutching his arm.

He kissed her cheek. “I rather think so. The servants are inside the kitchen now, where the fire appears to have originated. We'll know more in the morning, when it's light.” He looked over Janet's shoulder at Cecilia. “If you can keep things organized, I'll be forever in your debt.”

They followed Mrs. Grey to the dower house, which she hadn't even noticed yesterday when they arrived at Chase Hall. All the furniture was shrouded in holland covers, which made David cling even tighter to her. He relaxed a little when the footman flung away the covers, and then dumped coal in the grates and started fires.

She decided that the dower house gave new meaning to the word cozy. A trip upstairs revealed only two bedchambers, one with a small dressing room. Since it was so late, Cecilia directed Mrs. Grey to pull out blankets. “I think proper sheets and coverlets can wait for morning,” she explained as she handed each girl a blanket. “You girls take the chamber with the dressing room, and I will put David in the other one. Come, Davy,” she said, resting her hand on his shoulder, “I think that you and your uncle will have to share.”

“
He snores.”

Cecilia laughed. “Then you will have to get to sleep before he does, won't you?”