Summerset Abbey (26 page)

“Over time, the friendship between the two families waned a bit as the Buxtons amassed a fortune and the Wellses sat, happy and satisfied with their big stone home and the decent living the farm afforded them. They made enough money to give their sons and daughters a good start and they were always involved in the civic life of the town.”

“It sounds like a good life,” she ventured, but Jon was so caught up in his story, he didn’t even seem to hear her.

“My father was a bit of a dreamer and had more ambition than the Wellses who came before him, and he became convinced that there was a seam of coal near the old quarry. He must have had some reason for believing it was so, because he hired an expert to assay the property.”

“And they found coal?” Rowena knew without being told how the story would end. The only part that puzzled her was how on earth her uncle could possibly be responsible for his father’s death.

“They found coal,” Jon agreed. “It wasn’t a great deal. Not nearly what they have in the north or in Wales, but it was of very good quality and enough to make a small fortune for the Wells family. Only the Wells family will never see the profit from that coal. In a classic Buxton maneuver, Lord Summerset brought up an old property line dispute, and of course the courts settled in your uncle’s favor.”

A cramp of misery settled between Rowena’s eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly.

“That isn’t the worst of it,” he continued. Rowena wanted to put her hands over her ears to stop the words, but felt she ought to listen. “My father was so convinced that things had changed, that the courts couldn’t be bought by wealth and privilege, that he fought them. Hard. When it became more and more clear that he wouldn’t win, he grew bitter and angry and in the process emptied the family coffers of all our money. When it finally ended, we’d lost almost everything and barely had enough money to keep the property solvent. And of course, the Buxtons added more money to their already fat wallets while my family teetered on the edge of bankruptcy. When my father finally came to his senses and realized what he had done, he took a gun, walked out to the old stone quarry where the new coal mine was already in production, and shot himself in the head. And that, my dear Rowena, is why the Wellses can’t abide the Buxtons.”

Sometime during the last few minutes of his story they had stopped walking. Rowena’s legs were shaking as she tried to understand the horrible story she had just heard. And the sad truth was, he was probably right about her uncle. The business that had ruined a family probably sat on his desk for several days and then had been dispatched with due speed and into the hands of the lawyers. “Get me that property,” her uncle had probably said, and the lawyers had done it. And it’s not as though the Buxtons needed the money. While other great families teetered on the edge of disaster, the Buxtons had a talent for making money, and each earl had added to instead of taking away from the family fortune.

Turning to him, she took his hands into hers. The calluses between his thumb and forefinger caught on the soft wool of her glove. She’d never felt that on a man’s hands before. She was sure her uncle had never had them, nor any of the young men who frolicked on the other side of the pond. “I’m sorry from the bottom of my heart that happened to your family. I can say nothing that can make up for any of it. Just know that I care that it happened and I am sorry. I do hope that what happened in the past won’t affect the friendship you and I have.”

Their faces were so close she could see little flecks of green in the blue. Just as she lost herself in the wide blue of the sky, she could lose herself in the blue of his eyes.

He smiled down at her. “Others have offered their sympathies, but nothing has ever soothed as much as those words coming from your lips. Thank you, Rowena. And no, let’s not let it affect our friendship.” His head bent and for a fraction of a second, his lips brushed across hers. It had only been for a moment, but her mouth missed the heat of his the second he withdrew. Startled, she pulled back and looked around. Victoria and Elaine were staring out across the pond toward her and she wondered whether they had seen. Had she really just been kissed? It was so quick, it was like it hadn’t happened at all, and yet her lips still tingled from the contact.

He laughed at her bewilderment and she pulled her hands out of his. What on earth should she do now? She had just been kissed. In public. And she liked it. The teasing light of his eyes told her he suspected that she liked it.

“Would you like to fly with me again?” he asked as she pulled away.

She hesitated, her heart pounding. She should say no. After that little scene she should certainly say no. “Yes,” she said breathlessly, skating away. “Oh, yes.” And she went back to her party, his laughter ringing in her ears.

*   *   *

The sun was just setting and the last of the light, coupled with the light of the moon reflecting off the snow, made the unused portions of the house gleam strangely. Victoria smelled the fire even without the light shining through the open door. Part of her resented his entering her room without her, but that was silly. She knew he would be here. At the skating party today, he had told her he had been detained the last time and he wished to renew their rendezvous. For a moment she thought to tell him to go hang, just to see his reaction, but then she remembered what she had discovered about Prudence’s mother. She had a feeling that Kit, much like she, knew all sorts of things he wasn’t supposed to know. At any rate, he might be able to point her in the right direction.

She entered the room quietly. At first it seemed empty, but then she spotted him standing in front of a perfectly shaped evergreen tree. He lit the last candle as she watched. Along with the light glowing from the fire, it created a lovely and festive atmosphere.

He heard her swift intake of breath and turned toward her, smiling. “Happy Christmas,” he said simply.

She clapped her hands with delight and his smile grew. “Oh, it’s beautiful. How did you manage?”

“It wasn’t easy,” he admitted. “I had one of the servants cut down the tree and take it to my room. I’ve been pilfering decorations from your aunt Charlotte’s stash and have been hiding them in the room across the hall for the last couple of days. I was terribly worried we would run into each other in the hall and you would demand to know what I was doing.”

He looked delighted that his secret had been a success and it was the first time she had ever seen him without the bored, haughty look he always affected. He was much improved without it.

She came and stood by him and they both stared at the tree. A silence descended for a moment until she slipped her arm into his. “Thank you so much. This is the nicest surprise anyone could have given me. The trees in the rest of the house are lovely, of course, but our holidays at home were never as grand as here and this tree in this little room is absolutely perfect . . . it reminds me of home.”

He laid his hand on hers. “I’m so very glad. The first Christmas after my father passed away was the most difficult. After that it gets easier, though it’s never the same.”

“Were you very close to your father?”

“Not exceedingly. I don’t think any little English aristocrats are close to their parents. We’re all raised by nannies and governesses and sent away to school at eight or nine. But he loved me and I loved him, in our own fashion. I sense this wasn’t the same way with your father.”

She shook her head, staring hard at the candles flickering on the tree. “No. We were all very close. We were raised much differently. My father had very radical ideas on child rearing and we spent most of our time together as a family.” She stopped talking, unable to go on, and Kit patted her hand.

“I didn’t bring you here to make you sad, and I have another surprise for you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “More surprises?”

He nodded, looking more like a naughty boy than a bored aristocrat. He pointed to the bottom of the tree and she stooped for a better look. A velvet jewelry box wrapped in a silver ribbon sat underneath. “And I didn’t bring you anything,” she murmured.

He laughed and handed her the box. “Christmas is about giving, not getting.”

She looked up into his blue eyes, surprised. “That’s a decidedly sentimental sentiment, Mr. Kittredge.”

“I have them on occasion. But don’t tell anyone.”

She untied the ribbon carefully to give her heart time to slow. Her breath caught as she stared at the small cameo necklace inside. The disk was shining onyx against which the dainty ivory profile of a woman glowed softly. It hung on a chain of delicate filigreed silver. “It’s lovely,” she breathed, lifting it out of the box.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you for my gift. And the tree.”

He glanced sideways at her, a half smile curving his lips. “You’re very welcome. Sometimes I surprise even myself.”

She tilted her head so she could see his face. He was staring at her, his yes serious. “But there is something we must discuss,” he said.

She nodded, matching his seriousness with the same sincerity.

“I have been wrestling with this for the past several days. I enjoy your company. I enjoy your company very much. I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who was so easy and stimulating to be around. You are one of the least boring people I know.”

He paused as if puzzled by the turn of events and Victoria drew back, alarmed. Good God. What was he getting at? He wasn’t trying to propose, was he? For that would change everything . . .

“I wish us to be friends. Good friends, actually, but I am afraid that it might give people ideas that I was interested in you for reasons other than friendship, which is not at all the case as I am not interested in marriage.”

She rocked back on her heels and resisted the urge to laugh. He took himself so seriously! At least he wasn’t asking her to marry him, which would be outrageous. “Pardon me while I attempt to understand . . . you are afraid people may receive the wrong impression?”

Here he nodded and looked so uncomfortable that a thought struck her. “You’re afraid
I
shall receive the wrong impression.”

He shifted again and refused to meet her eye. She pinched his arm, hard, and his eyes flew open. “Hey!”

“If we are to be chums, then you have to tell the truth. You were afraid that I would get the wrong impression, weren’t you?”

He nodded, his mouth turned downward.

“And even though I told you that I didn’t want to get married, that left no impression whatsoever? You didn’t believe me at all?”

It was almost amusing to see a gentleman so tall trying to shrink himself. “Well, not exactly . . .”

She stuck a finger in his face. “You thought that just because I’m a woman that I would
have
to want to get married.” She shook her head. His face was evidence enough. “Now that we’re friends, you need to remember that almost everything you think you know about women is going to be turned on its ear. Understood?”

He looked down at her small hand and then grinned. “How old did you say you were?” he asked, marveling.

“Now I have something I need from you and this is to be in the strictest confidence. Can I trust you?”

He nodded, his blue eyes quizzical. “I don’t take friendships lightly, as you will find out.”

“Excellent. Read this, please, and tell me what you think.”

His brow furrowed as he took the newspaper clipping. She waited until he read it through. “Why do you think they had an inquiry concerning Halpernia’s death?” she finally asked. “Do you think there was something not right about it?”

He shook his head. “They always do for a drowning. They ruled it as accidental.”

She nodded. “I saw that. I just get this feeling that there is something more.” She took back the clipping and made up her mind. “I need you to come with me. I know someone who may have the answers. Will you come?”

He put out his hand and smiled at her. “Right now, my dear, I would follow you down a rabbit hole.”

She nodded. “You may not feel that way by the time we’re done.”

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

P
rudence walked carefully along the frozen track back to Summerset, not wanting to slip and fall. She knew she could have asked Andrew to take her to town and back, but after the ball a few nights past, she wasn’t quite sure what to say to him.

Her cheeks flamed again as she thought of the reason he and one of the gardeners had a scuffle during the ball. The man had actually said aloud that Lord Billingsly must be the toff who had bought Prudence’s green dress and that it didn’t take a schoolmaster to figure out why. Who knew that such a muddle would come of a simple ball gown? And fancy Andrew sticking up for her virtue that way. She had no idea how to express her thanks and her embarrassment, which was why she had chosen to walk to town today instead of asking for a ride. Rumor had it that Andrew and the gardener had each lost a week’s pay over the skirmish.

Well, she supposed she would have to deal with that sooner or later. She had enough on her mind today without including Andrew. Her cousin had been among the townspeople who had worked at Summerset the night of the ball. He had given her the news that the family had wanted to meet her. The only stipulation was that she not mention Alice’s name to Gran. Apparently, Prudence’s mother was a favorite and the heartbreak had almost killed the old woman. So Prudence had spent the morning with Wesley and his parents and Gran, who had taken residence at her son’s house until she was back on her feet again.

Her heart warmed again as she thought of meeting her family. She’d felt such a void since they’d moved to Summerset and she’d lost her sisters that she’d never thought she would feel that warm connectedness again.

At first the reunion had been awkward as they struggled to find things to say that didn’t involve Alice, but after they began eating lunch and stopped trying so hard, the conversation had taken wing and Prudence ended up having a pleasant time. Her uncle had her mother’s eyes and the same wide smile and she had warmed to him immediately. It wasn’t like family time, but it was a start and she knew they truly meant it when they extended an invitation to come by any time.

Which was a relief actually. Prudence wasn’t exactly sure what she was might do, but living at Summerset was quickly becoming unbearable, and though part of her still wished that things would go back to the way they were come Easter, she knew in her heart that nothing would ever be the same. It was time for her to stop being such a coward and start making plans for herself. Now that Lady Summerset had made her true feelings known, Prudence knew it was only a matter of time before things came to a head.

Prudence hurried around to the servants’ entrance. She hadn’t told the girls she was leaving again this morning and was anxious to check on Victoria, who had seemed strained when she had last seen her. A large delivery wagon stood in front of the door, but Prudence didn’t think it remarkable. With a house full of guests, the amount of food they ran through each day was staggering.

She nodded to a housemaid in the hallway and bid the cook a cheery good afternoon. It had been two days since the ball and she had been careful to behave in exactly the same manner as she always had. Not that it mattered. They would never accept her into their folds.

“You’d best get upstairs to help your young mistresses,” Hortense’s voice came from behind her.

Hortense had been cool toward Prudence since the servants’ ball, though Prudence wasn’t much surprised after discovering her ladyship’s animosity toward her. She only wondered why it was that Hortense had been kind to her in the first place. “And why is that?” Prudence asked.

“Their belongings arrived from London while you were gadding about town and my lady is fit to be tied. Imagine having the entire contents of a house show up on your doorstep when you have a manor full of guests!”

“It isn’t an entire houseful,” one of the footmen said, coming in the door carrying a trunk. “Just their personal effects and such.”

“Whose personal effects?” Prudence asked, the beginnings of unease prickling down her arms.

“Your mistresses’, of course,” Hortense sniffed. “A good lady’s maid would know these things.”

“I’m not a lady’s maid,” Prudence snapped, unbuttoning her coat. She hurried up the stairs and out into the Great Hall. Most of the guests had already retired to their rooms to rest and bathe before dinner or were playing cards in the drawing room. Prudence didn’t bother with the servants’ stairs, instead going right up the main staircase—the quickest way to Rowena’s room.

“Prudence!” Lord Billingsly called behind her, but she didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. In her heart, she knew the truth, but needed to hear it from Rowena.

The entire room was filled with trunks and a few pieces of furniture. Prudence recognized the pretty dressing table Sir Philip had bought for Rowena on one of his trips to France and a small gleaming rocker that had belonged to Ro and Vic’s mother.

Rowena stood in the middle of her green and gold room, panic playing across her pretty features. Victoria stood across from her, her hands clasped and her fingers twisting tightly. “Just what is going on?” Victoria’s voice was high and thready, a sign that she would lose her breath if she didn’t calm down.

“That’s what I would like to know,” Prudence asked, her voice far calmer than the tumultuous panic on the inside.

Rowena blanched. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want anyone to find out this way.”

Victoria stamped a foot. “Find out what? If you don’t tell me right now . . .”

Automatically, Prudence went over to Vic and laid a calming hand on her shoulder. “You need to breathe, Vic. Close your eyes and take a few small breaths. We’ll find out what is going on but you need to breathe.” She rubbed Vic’s shoulders in small circles until the girl nodded and did as she was told. The moment Victoria’s eyes closed, Prudence’s own gaze swept to Rowena. Their eyes caught and held. Pain glimmered in the depths of Rowena’s eyes. But there was something more, which hurt Prudence more than anything. Shame.

Victoria’s color returned and her eyes flew open. “You let him sell our home. You let him sell it and you didn’t even have the courtesy to tell us.” She put her hand over her mouth and sobbed.

“No. No, I didn’t. Uncle didn’t sell the house, he just let it. It’s still ours. He says we may decide what we want to do with it.”

The words were right, but Prudence noticed that Rowena didn’t come toward them, didn’t move in with a reassuring hug.

“Good. Then let’s move back,” Victoria said. “Let’s not wait. We can unlet it.”

Rowena said nothing. Bitterness welled up inside Prudence and came out in a laugh so hostile; it caused both of the other girls to startle. “No, we can’t. He let it for an extended length of time, didn’t he? Otherwise you would have told us.”

Victoria’s head swiveled back to her sister. “How long has our home been let? How long do we have until we can
decide
?”

Rowena looked down at the ground as if the answer were written in the new carpeting. “Seven years,” she finally said.

“Seven years?” Victoria shouted. “Seven years?”

Tears, more in anger at her sister’s betrayal than in grief at losing the house, began rolling down Prudence’s face. “When were you going to tell us? How long were you going to let me play at being your maid? Did you enjoy that? Do you realize what I’ve gone through? What I have done because you said everything was going to be just fine?” She stopped and shut her eyes as the room spun around. She took a deep breath and opened them again. “I trusted you.”

“I’m sorry, Pru. I didn’t mean . . .”

But Prudence had had enough. She had given everything and more to show these women her love and gratitude. She considered them family. But this proved that they could never be family. A real sister wouldn’t have done this to her.

Her fists clenched by her side. “Your father would be so ashamed of you.”

She whirled around to see Elaine standing white-faced in the doorway. Behind her, Sebastian’s eyes were full of both shock and compassion. When she swept past them and back down the stairs, no one tried to stop her. She hurried out the front door, not knowing where she was going, only that she had to get out of the house.

Once outside, she ran down the drive until a hitch in her side forced her to stop. There was no way she could run far enough anyway. Then she leaned against one of the old oaks and sobbed.

Everything rose up and attacked her from all sides. Sir Philip’s death, her mother’s betrayal, her own illegitimacy, her treatment at the hands of the staff and the family because of who she was, and worst of all, Rowena’s duplicity, the final blow.

Why hadn’t Rowena just told her that they had no home to go back to? Even if Rowena would have had to tell her that she, Prudence, would have to find a different home or situation. They could have figured it out together, as they did everything, but no, Rowena was too selfish or too weak or too something to tell her the truth, and by lying she’d let Prudence live in an intolerable situation. She’d slept without heat, had lived and worked without dignity, had had tricks played on her by others, and just two nights ago someone had called her a tart. Her cheeks burned at the thought.

Prudence sniffled and dried her face on her sleeve. Her coat was still open and she had lost her hat at some point. She buttoned up her coat and looked back toward Summerset. Darkness was coming on quickly, and Prudence knew she would have to go back. She couldn’t stay out here all night. She had to get her things and make a plan.

“I think you lost this.”

Disoriented, she turned until she located Sebastian walking toward her, carrying her black beret.

She tried to smile but the effort was too much, and in the end she just took the hat and pulled it down over her head.

“Are you all right?” he asked her softly.

She shrugged. “As good as I can be. I’ll be fine.” She tilted her chin up. “I’ll be fine,” she repeated more firmly. “I’m just going to have to find another situation until I decide where I want to go and what I want to do.”

He cleared his throat. “Will you be going back to the house or would you like me to drive you somewhere?”

She thought briefly of Wesley and her family but put the thought out of her head. No. The relationship was too new. She could stay at the inn, but she had little money with her, and the banks would be closed until after Christmas. No doubt, the inn would be filled for the holiday and she wasn’t sure Summerset even possessed another hotel.

“I’ll have to go back,” she admitted. “At least for now.”

He took her arm and they walked slowly back toward the house. “May I make a suggestion? This would be far more appropriate and seemly coming from my mother, but under the circumstances—I do know of a position that may be just what you are looking for.”

She glanced sideways at him but he was staring straight ahead. “And what would that be?”

“My cousin’s best friend is an invalid. She had a riding accident when she was a girl and as a result is bound to a wheelchair. She also has occasional breathing problems, similar to Victoria’s. She is a bit older than I am and quite lively. I believe you would like her.”

“I’m not a nurse, Sebastian,” she said, then blushed at the use of his first name. It just seemed so natural.

Sensitively, he ignored it and continued. “She has a nurse who attends to her physical needs. She is hoping to engage a companion to travel to Spain and Italy for the rest of the winter. My cousin used to be her companion until she was married last fall. It may be the perfect position for you while you sort something else out.”

He was right. It would be.

“There’s another thing that makes it perfect.” He stopped walking and turned to her. His eyes shone mysteriously in the darkness. “It means you won’t disappear and I will get to see you again.”

Her heart thudded in her chest and for a moment she thought that perhaps he was going to kiss her, but then he turned away and began walking again. It was as if he sensed that she was too fragile for even one more emotional incident. She swallowed. “How soon would you be able to contact them?”

“Cara is staying with my cousin for the holidays. I will send a note directly.”

“Thank you,” she said simply.

He nodded. And they walked in silence toward what was left of Prudence’s old life.

*   *   *

Victoria sat across from her aunt and uncle in the study, wondering whether they had seated her in this chair on purpose. The graceful Queen Anne chair they had indicated for her to take was just tall enough so that her feet did not reach the floor. It took everything she had not to swing them like a petulant child and put herself at a distinct disadvantage.

Her aunt, still in her flowing lace tea gown, spoke first while her uncle looked on, both benevolent and disapproving. Victoria couldn’t wait to reveal what she knew. She wondered how long it would take for their expressions to change.

“Victoria, we have guests. I find it extremely discourteous of you and your sister to indulge in a screaming match in the hallway. And then to demand a meeting with your uncle and me.” Here Aunt Charlotte shrugged helplessly. “It borders on rude.”