Summerset Abbey: Spring Awakening (Summerset Abbey Trilogy) (23 page)

Though the tenants and townspeople had hated Rowena’s grandfather and were only marginally warmer toward Uncle Conrad, they had few complaints about the fairness of their landlord. He treated them well, and so the tradition of handing out gifts
to the servants, tenants, and their children continued. While the Buxtons might not always be charitable with their own blood, they certainly wouldn’t cast aside a time-honored Summerset tradition. The tenant gifts—barrels of ale, salted herring, and hams—had already been delivered. Today, they would give out the gifts for the servants and hold the party for the children. Each child had already received one gift—a pair of new shoes—because Aunt Charlotte found it offensive to see children barefoot in the winter.

The great hall, which led into the grand salon, never failed to awe and inspire Rowena, who had a hard time believing it was in a private house. The domed rotunda of the great hall’s entrance looked as if it belonged in some magnificent museum. The grand salon itself was decorated with gilded rosettes, silk draperies, and a stone fireplace so immense Rowena could stand upright in it.

When Elaine and Rowena entered the grand salon, Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Conrad had already taken their seats in front of the sparkling Christmas tree in front of the dormered windows. Because there had been no Christmas ball this year, the tree in the grand salon was their only one. Rowena had noticed that, contrary to custom, a tree hadn’t even been set up in her bedroom. Summerset’s holidays were marred by the grief of a nation this year.

The servants were already lined up in front of the doorway. They stood chatting and gossiping as Rowena and Elaine took their places. Their job was to pass the gifts to Aunt Charlotte, who would give the female servants their gifts, and Uncle Conrad, who was responsible for the male servants. Cairns and Mrs. Harper would be standing on either side of Rowena and Elaine to whisper the name of the next servant into their ears. It seemed more personal if each gift had been chosen with a
specific servant in mind, as if the lord and lady truly knew and cared for each of their servants. In reality, everyone knew that the head housekeeper and butler had chosen the gifts, and they were the ones the other servants needed to impress.

Elaine helped her mother while Rowena handed gifts to Uncle Conrad. “James, second gardener,” Cairns would whisper, handing Rowena a set of pipes and a small bag of fine tobacco.

“James, second gardener,” she’d repeat in Uncle Conrad’s ear.

“James!” Uncle Conrad would call heartily. “The gardens looked wonderful last year. Do you think we’ll win the county floral competition again?”

“I believe we could, Your Lordship.”

“Wonderful! Enjoy the tobacco. May you smoke in good health!”

And on and on until all the servants had received a gift and a small word of appreciation. “Why don’t they just put tags on the gifts?” Rowena whispered to Elaine after the last gift had been handed out.

“Because Cairns and Mrs. Harper want everyone to know who’s really in charge. Besides, as my mother would tell you, ‘
This is the way it had always been done and the way it will always be done.’ ”

The family took tea in the sitting room to fortify themselves for the children’s party. Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Conrad would no doubt put in a brief appearance and then flee, so the family would be represented by Elaine, Rowena, and Colin’s wife, Annalisa, who had arrived just before tea.

“You look lovely!” Elaine said as the three entered the grand salon for the second time that day. It was true. Annalisa wore a soft, rose-colored lace gown and had tied a matching ribbon around her golden-brown hair.

“Thank you, darling.” Annalisa said. “I’ll not wear black like I’m a widow. It would be like jinxing Colin’s safety.”

The room had been transformed by busy servants during the tea. All of the fussy art objects within reach had been put away, and several tables had been loaded with the sweets and drinks that children so dearly loved—tureens of hot chocolate, stacks of biscuits and shortbreads, marzipan animals, tiny almond cakes, and sugarplums. The tenants’ children, who rarely got such extravagant goodies, would make short work of them, but Rowena knew more would appear as if by magic from the never-ending supply. The children were invariably sick after . . . the trick was to get them out of the house beforehand.

“I’m glad you are staying for a bit,” Elaine said to Annalisa. “It’s been horribly dull here. Rather like a daily wake. No doubt Rowena is leaving me again to risk life and limb flying those aeroplanes of hers.” Elaine gave Rowena an accusatory glance.

Rowena smiled. “I leave in the morning. I think you can manage without me.”

Elaine’s face grew somber and she turned to where Mrs. Harper was opening the doors to let in the children. “I guess that’s all any of us can do until this bloody war is over, isn’t it? Manage.”

Rowena agreed but was soon too busy playing games with the children to think sad thoughts. The children adored her, and when they clamored for her to be the blind man in blindman’s buff, she laughingly consented.

“Now, don’t you all leave the room and let me stumble about alone until supper,” she warned.

They promised not to as she tied the blindfold around her head.

“Make sure you can’t see!” one of the children cried out.

Elaine turned Rowena around and around until she was dizzy enough that when suddenly let go, she stumbled, much to the delight of the children around her.

Cries of “Over here!” “Over here!” surrounded her, and she good-naturedly careened about the room, banging her shins on various pieces of furniture.

When the room went suddenly silent, she stood with her hands on her hips. “Oh! So we’re going to play it that way, are we?” She took a few experimental steps this way and that. A muffled giggle came from her left and she lunged toward it, running headlong into something both solid and yielding. She stopped and put out her hands, confused.

Robbed of sight, it took her normally quick senses longer to figure out what she was touching. Her cheeks heated when she realized her fingers were running across a muscular chest and broad shoulders. Whipping off her blindfold, she stared into Sebastian’s dark eyes. Shock propelled her to throw her arms around his neck. He held her in his arms and bent his head in a hungry kiss.

A cheer went up all around them, and Rowena broke away. Ducking her head with embarrassment, she laughed. Elaine must have sensed her bashfulness because she and Annalisa took matters into hand.

“Time for musical chairs!”

The servants filed in holding straight-backed chairs in front of them. Sebastian led Rowena by the hand to a quiet corner. Turning, he took her other hand in his and beamed down at her, his handsome face alight with the success of his surprise.

“Happy to see me?”

“Of course!” And she was. Joy, unexpected and effervescent, bubbled up in her chest. “How were you able to get leave?”

“I volunteered to escort a contingent of politicals into Calais for a meeting with the French. The opportunity only was available to me because a member of the party was a friend of my father’s. I have to be in London by midnight tonight.”

“So soon?” Her heart sank.

He nodded. “We are leaving in the morning. The commander told me I was crazy, that I’d be better off getting some sleep and a good meal, but I wanted to see you.”

She looked at him then, truly looked at him. His eyes were shadowed with circles and he was practically swaying on his feet from exhaustion.

“And you came here . . .”

His hands tightened on hers. “I would rather be with you than sleep any day, even if only for a few hours.”

Across the room Elaine played a cheerful song on the piano, and the lilting melody matched the music in Rowena’s soul. Tears rose to her eyes. Jonathon had walked away from her twice while Sebastian would make any sacrifice to be with her.

Her heart, which had swelled with emotion the moment she took off her blindfold, no longer felt torn; she no longer doubted whom she loved and whom she wished to spend the rest of her life with.

“I love you, Sebastian,” she said simply, staring into his eyes.

“I’ve waited so long to hear those words from you.” He smiled. “And I love you, too.”

He bent his head to kiss her, and Rowena met his lips, no longer caring who saw.

P
rudence gave her flat another critical once-over as she waited for Andrew to arrive from the hospital. In accordance with the doctor’s wishes, she was trying to rest more and had hired a woman to come in and clean the flat for Andrew’s arrival. Victoria’s driver would be bringing Andrew home, and Eleanor would stay with them for the first night. They had a hired nurse who would after that come twice a week until Andrew was doing well on his own. Then she would come back when the baby came to help Prudence with whatever needed doing. Prudence prayed she wouldn’t need her for long. She hated knowing Lord Summerset was paying for expenses the army wouldn’t cover.

Andrew had been fitted with a prosthesis, but it wasn’t as sophisticated as the one the specialist could get him. So far Andrew was being obstinate about ordering another one, so Prudence had ordered one behind his back. Prudence knew that it went against his grain to owe anything to his former employer, and while she understood the sentiment, it pained her to see him struggling with the rather crude device he’d been fitted with, especially compared with the light, perfectly balanced one the specialist had shown her. The new one wouldn’t be done for several more weeks, so she had a bit before telling him she had hidden something else from him.

She swallowed and went to the small front room they grandly called their sitting room. In the month since Christmas, their visits, beyond that first one, had been strained. Prudence wasn’t sure if it was because she felt so guilty about his injuries that she hid it by being unnaturally jolly, or if it was because Andrew didn’t talk about much at all. The only thing that perked him up was mention of the coming child.

She spotted Victoria’s motorcar coming down the street and wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her apron before untying it and slipping it off. She had dressed carefully for this homecoming in one of the dresses she had worn at the Mayfair home. Rather out of fashion now, it was still pretty, made out of a fancy woven wool and sporting a double row of jet buttons down the front. But watching her husband being helped out of the car by the driver, she suddenly wished she had dressed in a simpler dress.

Moving away from the window, she stood, her hands clenched by her sides as she listened to the labored thumping of her husband coming up the stairs.

I will not fall apart
.

When the rap sounded on the door, she took a deep breath, then held the door open. “Come in, come in, it’s freezing out there! How was the ride?”

The driver nodded. “It’s was fine, ma’am. Where would you like his things?” He stood on Andrew’s bad side while Eleanor stood behind them holding his valise.

“Oh, I’ve got it. Do you want to sit in your chair, darling?” She smiled over Andrew’s shoulder at Eleanor. “It’s the ugliest piece of furniture in the whole flat, but it’s his favorite and the warmest.”

“It may be a bit difficult for him to get in and out of on his own for a bit,” Eleanor said. “But I want you to know how to lift him properly until he is more confident on doing it himself.”

“I’m right here,” Andrew said crossly.

“I know you are, love, and when I want to talk to you, I’ll address you.” Eleanor gave him a cheerful smile. “I’ll be talking about you a lot to your wife, so don’t get snippy every time I do. Or get snippy if you must—Prudence and I will ignore you. Won’t we?”

Prudence smiled uncertainly. “Would anyone like a piece of cherry tart?”

The driver shook his head. “I’d best get home. I will be back to pick you up in the morning, Miss Eleanor.”

“Thank you, Pete. I appreciate it.” Eleanor waited until Pete had left before addressing Prudence and Andrew. “Can you imagine having a driver at your disposal? Everyone in the old neighborhood thinks I am quite posh now.” She laughed. “I guess I am at that!”

Prudence turned to Andrew. “Would you like a piece of cherry tart?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Prudence’s heart dipped with disappointment. She’d baked the tart trying to show him how much she had learned while he’d been away and had fussed over the stupid thing all day. Now he couldn’t even pretend to want some? She shoved the thought down and gave him the best smile she could muster.

“Oh, don’t be silly, Andrew,” Eleanor chastised, her blue eyes reproachful. “Your wife baked a tart special for your homecoming. The least you can do is taste some.”

“Lord, you’re bossy,” Andrew snapped. “And you’re only insisting because you have never tasted my wife’s cooking. But, fine. I’ll have a piece.”

“You don’t have to have any,” Prudence said, picking up the tart.

“Give us both a big piece of the tart, Prudence,” Eleanor commanded. “And put some coffee on. You and I will need to stay up late tonight to talk about Mr. Grumpy here.”