Tea and Scandal (4 page)

Jane was nervous at the prospect of meeting a lord. She knew from her days at Miss Prism
’
s that lords could cause no end of bother. When the gentlemen were shown in, her vague concern crystallized to alarm. She scarcely looked at Swann; one glance at his rather simple, smiling face told her he was harmless.

It was Lord Fenwick who caught her attention. First she observed that he was taller than average, and wearing an exquisitely tailored jacket of blue Bath cloth. She had never seen a cravat arranged so impeccably, nor top boots gleam so brightly. But she had been right that he was proud. Pride and suspicion marred what was otherwise a handsome face. She knew by his sharp expression and his darting, clever eyes that he was bent on mischief.

After a cursory examination of her aunt, those steel-hard eyes turned to examine her. She had been raked from head to toe by men before, most recently by Fortini. Lord Fenwick
’
s examination was not of that sort. It was cold, insolent. She felt her spine stiffen, and her dutiful smile of welcome dwindle to annoyance.

Scawen Swann introduced his houseguest. Fenwick had been expecting the
“
housekeeper
”
would be a common sort of woman, overdressed and underbred. He was surprised to encounter a modest-looking lady. She was not dripping in diamonds, or sitting with her legs crossed, or drinking brandy. When his eyes turned to her cohort, he found an even more interesting female.

It was only the wary, angry expression on Miss Lonsdale’s face that gave him any cause for suspicion, for her appearance was unexceptionable. Her blue eyes gazed at him from beneath long lashes. She wore her soft brown hair bundled neatly back from her face. Her complexion was of a ladylike pallor, and her demeanor was modest. Her dark blue gown was almost excessively so. She looked like a typical poor relation, or a governess. In fact, the whole scene was so genteel, it might have been set up to impress a caller. They would have seen him and Swann coming through the meadow.

Lady Pargeter presented her companion. "This is my niece, Miss Lonsdale. She has come to stay with me.
”

The group took up their positions around the grate.

Fenwick composed a cool smile and said,
“
Where do you come from, Miss Lonsdale?
”
He noticed the question displeased her. Why should she hesitate to reply, unless there was something discreditable in her background?

“
From Bath,
”
she said.

“
Is your family still there?
”

“
My parents are dead,
”
she said.

“
Ah, then you lived with relatives?
”

“
I was employed in a lady
’
s academy,
”
she said. She was loath to mention the name Miss Prism, and added,
“
My aunt has invited me to stay with her.
”

“
A schoolteacher, was you?
”
Scawen inquired.

“
Yes,
”
she said, with an angry look at Swann. Did he think she was the cook, or scrubbed floors?

“
What academy was that, Miss Lonsdale?
”
Fenwick inquired.

She gave him another hostile look. The man was a bulldog. Any mention of her leaving the academy was painful; she did not want the local folks to discover her disgrace. Yet she had been trained as a young lady to be polite, and as a vicar
’
s daughter to tell the truth.
“
Miss Prism
’
s Academy for Young Ladies,
”
she said.

“I have heard of it,” Fenwick said, with a note of surprise in his well-modulated voice. It was known to be very prestigious, and very strict. If Miss Lonsdale did indeed come from Miss Prism’s, there could be nothing amiss in her background except poverty, and that, while unfortunate, was in no way immoral. In fact, it was almost a guarantee of integrity—
if
she had really taught there....

“
Were you there long?
”
he asked.

Something in his insolent, questioning look caused a stab of anger. She took a deep breath to control the sharp retort that longed to come out.
“
Eighteen months, two weeks, and three days,
”
she said.
“
Are you interested in precise dates, milord?
”

He ignored her gibe.
“
And before you joined Miss Prism?
”
he asked.

Lady Pargeter had had enough.
“
My niece is not applying for a position with you, milord,
”
she said.
“
Is there some reason for this interrogation?
”

Fenwick decided on the spot that he must watch his step with these
“
ladies.
”
They knew what they were about. Any show of servility on their part would have suggested wrongdoing. He had merited that rebuke, and the
“
housekeeper
”
was not slow to deliver it. She wouldn
’
t be browbeaten into compliance. The alternative was to dump the butter boat on her. A warm smile lit his eyes and lifted the corners of his lips.

“Forgive me,” he said, directing his words to both ladies. “Curiosity has always been my besetting sin. I came to pay my respects to Lord Pargeter’s widow.” He turned to direct his next words to Jane. “I am a cousin to Pargeter. I was trying to determine whether we might have met before, ma’am. I am sorry if my questions struck you as an interrogation. My mama makes her home in Bath. I often visit her.
”
His interest soared when Jane gave a wince at that piece of information.

The charm of his smile was ignored in this dreadful piece of information.
“
I have heard of Lady Fenwick. I
’
ve never met her,
”
Jane said. But Lady Fenwick might very well have heard of her by now. Many of the students were from noble families. The dismissal of a schoolmistress on moral grounds would provide a small item of gossip.
“
Do you have relatives
—
cousins or nieces
—
at Miss Prism
’
s, milord?
”
she asked warily.

“
Not at the moment,
”
he said, and watched as the tension eased out of her face. His suspicions heightened when she smiled in relief.

“
I thought they might have attended Miss Prism
’
s,
”
she said.

“
Not within the past eighteen months, two weeks, and three days,
”
he replied, with a glinting, sly smile that set her nerves on edge. Almost a challenging smile. What had he heard?

Lady Pargeter decided it was time to change the subject.
“
You are staying with Swann, Lord Fenwick?
”

“
Just so. I am visiting for a few days and couldn
’
t leave without calling on you. How do you go on, Lady Pargeter?
”

“
As well as I can, being cut off from the world,
”
she said, with a sharp glance at Swann, who was harboring the lady responsible for her isolation, and well he knew it.

Scawen paid her no heed. He had discovered that Miss Lonsdale was a nice, quiet sort of lady. Pretty without flaunting herself. He wanted a wife, and felt that his best chance of procuring one was to find some undiscovered violet growing unseen, and rush her off to Vicar Hellman before she caught someone else
’
s eye.

“
Would you like to see my swans, Miss Lonsdale?
”
he asked.

“
Where are they?
”
she asked in some little confusion.

“
At Swann Hall. That is to say, on the lake. Only a few of them left.
”

“
Yes, I should like to see them sometime,
”
she said vaguely.

"Tomorrow. I shall call on you tomorrow. Don
’
t wear a good dress. What you have on will be fine. And you
’
ll need some stout shoes, for it
’
s wet in the water. In the rushes, that is to say.
”

Jane blinked, wondering how to respond to this news that water was wet, and to the slight on her good serge gown.

Seeing her plight, Fenwick came to the rescue, hoping to lure her into friendship, and eventually into revelations.
“
It will be chilly by the lake. You will want that nice warm gown,
”
he said.

“
Oh yes.
”
She smiled, surprised that he should come to her rescue, and grateful for his finesse.

The conversation came to a temporary halt. She noticed Fenwick direct a commanding look on Mr. Swann, and sat on nettles, waiting to see what occurred next.

There had been some discussion between the gentlemen as to how they might discover clues to Pargeter
’
s mental condition just prior to his death. They agreed that the master bedroom was the likeliest place to find them. Fenwick had convinced Swann that he was the more likely one to request a visit thither.

When Fenwick gave him a commanding look, Swann said,
“
We was wondering if we might have a peek at the master bedroom.
”
Lady Pargeter stared at him in astonishment.
“
Only if you ain
’
t using it yourself, of course,
”
he added.

“
It happens I am not. It
’
s too dark to suit me, but may I know why you wish to view it?
”

Swann had been coached.
“
Old times
’
sake,
”
he replied.
“
Many
’
s the time I have enjoyed a gargle of brandy there with old Pargeter when he was racked up with gout, you know. I would like to see his last resting place
—
while he was alive, I mean, for of course, I often visit his grave. Well, two or three times. Once, actually, but I took some flowers.
”

Fenwick saw he had overestimated Swann
’
s potential as a conspirator.
“
Actually, Swann was hoping for a keepsake, Lady Pargeter. Nothing valuable like his watch, but some trifle
—
a favorite book of poetry, perhaps, in which he had jotted down his thoughts.
”

“Pargeter never read a poem in his life,” Lady Pargeter said comprehensively. “He was reading the
Farmer’s Almanac
the day before he died. I gave it to the bailiff. There was an article on some new sheep Pargeter meant to discuss with him. If you would like a cravat pin, I would be happy to give you one as a memento. I shall ask Broome to fetch it.
”

“
Allow me,
”
Swann said, with a triumphant smile at Fenwick.
“
I know just where he kept them.
”

Fenwick noticed that Lady Pargeter and Jane exchanged a meaningful look.

They both realized there was some mischief afoot. Fay knew that Swann hadn
’
t a sentimental bone in his body. He was no blood relation to Pargeter, nor had they been especially close. Swann
’
s mama and Lady Pargeter had been cousins
—
but he hadn
’
t wanted any keepsake of Lizzie. What he wanted was to get into Pargeter
’
s bedroom and snoop to see what he could find to take back to Lady Sykes and her lawyer. Not that he would find anything.

“
Miss Lonsdale will go with you,
”
Fay said, with a gracious nod of her head.

“
Very kind of you,
”
Swann replied, smiling fondly at Jane. Fate seemed to be throwing the young lady into his path.

Fenwick rose when Jane stood up. As if on impulse, he said to Lady Pargeter, “May I accompany them above stairs?” When she frowned, he rushed in with an excuse. “I have not been at Wildercliffe for some years. I should like to refresh my memories of it. A fine house, Lady Pargeter,
”

“
Certainly, Lord Fenwick. We shall all go,
”
she said, and accepted his assistance from her seat.

She noticed the tightening of his jaw, which sat ill with his efforts at a smile. Oh yes, he was up to something, right enough, but he would have to get up early in the morning to outwit her.

The group, led by Lady Pargeter, proceeded up the grand staircase and along a corridor to the master bedroom. Swann walked with Jane behind Fay. Fenwick brought up the rear. He noticed how small Jane
’
s waist was, and the interesting swaying of her hips. Over her shoulder, he made a few comments on paintings and carving as they went, to lend credence to his request to view the house.

Lady Pargeter entered the master bedroom first and drew back the heavy curtains. A rich but gloomy chamber came into view.

“I can see why you wouldn’t want to sleep here after Pargeter died,” Swann said. That struck him as implying the lady had enjoyed sleeping there with Pargeter. He felt he should modify it in some manner and added, “Not to say you enjoyed it
before
he died.” This was even worse. “Not to say you
didn’t
enjoy it. Not that it
’
s any of my business one way or t
’
other,
”
he finished, blushing.

“
What beautiful carving!
”
Fenwick said, rather hastily, and walked forward to the canopied bed.
“
Grinling Gibbons, is it?
”
He ran his fingers over an indifferent carving of a vine crawling up the bedpost, to terminate in a griffin.