The Man in the Green Coat (11 page)

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Authors: Carola Dunn

Tags: #Regency Romance

BOOK: The Man in the Green Coat
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“Madame!" she cried, bursting into the room, “How should you like to remove to the country?”

Madame thought it a delightful notion. In no time her face was wreathed in smiles. Marie was equally approving, though no hint of a smile touched her mouth. She, however, was the one to put her finger on the weak spot in the plan.


Comment,”
she asked, “
est-ce que vous allez trouver cette chaumière, mademoiselle?”

"How am I going to find a cottage? Oh dear, I hadn’t thought of that. But never mind. I have to consult Mr Everett about Sir Oswald and I expect he will be able to advise me on that, too. There may be something suitable near his family’s place,” said Gabrielle hopefully. “In the meantime, Marie, I think you should be the one to tell people that they will have to move out in two weeks because the house will be shut up.”

A slow smile distorted the maid’s gloomy features. “
Avec plaisir
, mademoiselle!’ she said. “I go at once.”

“How shall I dismiss the servants?” wailed Lady Harrison. “I am sure they will have every right to be upset.”

“I shall do it,” Gabrielle proposed. “Marie must come with us, of course. Mrs Hodge, and any others who have been with you a long time, should be paid their wages and told that they are to take an extended holiday. It will still cost less than trying to keep the house running. So that just leaves the footman and a few maids, does it not? I expect they will soon find new positions. So do not worry about anything, Madame. Leave everything to me!”

Gabrielle found it more difficult than she had expected to compose a note summoning Mr Everett to her side. She had nearly decided to wait until she saw him in the normal course of things, but then Gerard came downstairs, bleary-eyed, and asked if she had settled on a course of action. He was enthusiastic about her ideas until it came to asking Mr Everett’s assistance.

“But Gaby!” he said, shocked, “what can you be thinking of? It is not at all the thing to beg aid of a stranger in such a personal matter!”

“Mr Everett is not a stranger—and don’t call me Gaby! The help he gave us in Dover was much more personal, and he has been most amiable ever since.”

“It was a deal too personal. I should never have allowed him to interfere.”

“You were in no shape to stop him, nor to help me yourself! Don’t be a nodcock, Gerard. It is perfectly unexceptionable to approach him in this.”

He shrugged sulkily. “Do as you will, then. You always do anyway. There’s no need to insult me. I’m going for a walk to clear my head.”

Trying to stifle her own doubts, Gabrielle dashed off a note and sent the footman to deliver it. Then she set about the unpleasant task of giving notice to the rest of the servants.

To her relief, they all took it philosophically—except Mrs Hodge, who wept into her apron even though she was not actually being dismissed. Gabrielle had to promise that if the cottage they found was big enough, the cook should be allowed to join them in their rural exile. It would be one more mouth to feed, but at least they would not have to find someone locally to come in and cook for them.

By the time Mr Everett arrived, she was feeling hot and harassed, and very uncertain whether she was doing the right thing.

“You sent for me, Miss Darcy?" he asked in a cool voice, as Roger ushered him into the drawing room.

She looked up at him appealingly. “Was my letter so abrupt? I did not mean to presume. I wrote in a hurry, but my intention was to request a visit at your earliest convenience.”

“Which is precisely what you said.” The quirk of his lips reassured her. “I gather I misinterpreted haste as effrontery. You see me here, anyway. What can I do for you?”

“Thank you for coming. However, if you jumped so easily to the conclusion that I was being discourteous, perhaps Gerard was right and I should not consult you. I am sorry to have troubled you for nothing, sir.”

“Oh no, you shall not get off so easily!” He sat down on a chair near her. “Gerard was certainly wrong, and it is essential that you consult me. About what?”

“I own I cannot think where else to turn.”

“You are unflattering! Am I a last resort, then?”

“Not at all. An only resort, for I do not yet know anyone else in London so well—except Madame Aurore, of course, and it is her problem as much as ours.”

“I am intrigued. Pray continue, Miss Darcy. I shall endeavour to give you good advice.”

"I don’t doubt it. You are expert at telling me what to do. However, it is practical assistance of which we stand in need, not mere advice.”

“I am at your service.”

Mr Everett was frowning now. Gabrielle hoped it was a frown of concern and not of irritation. She explained their suspicions of Sir Oswald.

"How sure are you that Lady Harrison is not simply spending more than she can account for?” asked Mr Everett. “It is all too easy to lose heavily at cards, for instance, with nothing to show for it.”

She shook her head. “Not Madame. She enjoys cards, but she always avoids parties where there is deep play. I know for a fact that she has turned down two invitations this week for that very reason. No, Gerard is sure she is being cheated. There must be something we can do?”

“Has her ladyship consulted the family lawyer?”

“Sir Oswald changed lawyers on his father’s death. Madame does not trust Mr Hubble any more than she trusts her stepson.”

“Sir Oswald was at the Foreign Office again this morning. I caught him looking through some papers on my desk. I cannot believe that Sir Cosmo’s son is spying for the French, but I’d like to know if there is a reason for his inquisitiveness. I’ll set a couple of my men onto it.”

“How useful it is to know a spymaster! I doubt you’ll find my other request so easily fulfilled. Can you tell me how to find a furnished cottage in the country to rent for the summer?”

“I’ve not the least idea. You intend to join the rest of the ton in the exodus from London?”

“We are driven to it, sir! Madame’s greatest expense is running this house, and we are not in a position to aid her at present.”

He looked at her sharply. She avoided his eyes.

“Gerard?” he asked. “I have seen enough of you to know that you are not drawing the bustle. Do not tell me that he is addicted to gambling already!"

“You are quick to lay all misfortunes to the evils of gambling, Mr Everett.”

“I have my reasons. Gerard has been playing deep, then. How bad are matters?”

“I cannot think that that concerns you. We should be perfectly all right if my father would only come! I take it you do not care to help us.”

He reached to take her hand. “Of course I care to help you, Gabrielle. You have not asked for a loan. Is that what you wish?”

“No!” She pulled her hand away. “Why do you persist in misunderstanding me? All I want is to know how to find cheap accommodations in the country!”

Her voice trembled on the edge of tears. He moved swiftly to sit beside her on the sofa, and put his arm around her shoulders in what he hoped was a brotherly fashion.

“We seem to be more than usually at odds this morning,” he said ruefully. “I’m sorry! Do not cry, I beg you.

“I’ve no intention of crying!” Gabrielle raised her chin and straightened her shoulders, leaving him with no excuse to continue his comforting gesture. He leaned back in the corner of the seat and regarded her with mixed regret and approval.

“That’s my girl! Never fear, I shall find you your cottage, if I have to send out every spy in the kingdom to search for it!”

She turned to look at him in surprise. “Surely you would not . . . Oh, now you are teasing me!” She smiled and shook her head. “I hope you have a more practical plan.”

“I believe I shall consult my stepmother. In fact, I had best go immediately to catch her before she goes out. Never fear, Miss Darcy, I shan’t let you be rolled up.” He stood and raised her hand to his lips.

“Thank you,” she said. “I never thought it would be so difficult to ask you, but I’m very glad I did.”

“My pleasure.” He bowed and departed.

* * * *

When Mr Everett reached home, Lady Cecilia had already departed to pay some morning calls. Miss Dorothea, announced the butler, was in the drawing room, having stayed home with, he understood, a slight headache.

The scene that met his eyes when he entered the drawing room brought a look of disapproval to his face. Dorrie sat on a small sofa, a book lying neglected in her lap. As close to her as he could be while sitting in a different chair, Alain de Vignard was talking quietly with her. Her eyes shone, her cheeks were delicately tinted with rose, but they paled as the door opened and she saw her brother.

Alain jumped to his feet.

“Mr Everett! I was just about to leave. Goodbye, Miss Everett.” He made a move to take her hand, quickly suppressed it, bowed hurriedly, and made his escape.

Mr Everett watched him cynically. Dorothea read his expression and said, “He was just leaving, Luke. He has to be at the general’s house at noon.”

“I need not tell you, I suppose, that it is highly improper for you to meet alone with a young man, especially one you are scarcely acquainted with.”

She smiled, with a faraway look. “Oh, no, I know Monsieur de Vignard very well. And besides,” she came back to earth, “we were not alone, for there is my maid.” She pointed at the window, and her brother saw that her maid was indeed sitting there sewing. It dawned on him that there had been no servant present during his recent interview with Miss Darcy. Of course, the circumstances were completely different, he decided.

“If you feel you know de Vignard well, you must have been living in his pocket for the last two weeks!” he countered. “Is your mother aware of it? I’ll wager she approves him no more than I do. He is a nobody, a secretary.”

“He makes no secret of it. You cannot say I should not know him, for I met him through your friends, the Darcys and Lady Harrison. And Mama has twice taken me to call on them. And what is more, Alain says he asked your permission to call here, and you gave it!”

“Your mother has taken you to visit Russell Square? Strange. I did not know she was on such terms with Lady Harrison.”

“She but passes the day with my lady. It is Miss Darcy she talks to. I like Miss Darcy. Are you in love with her?”

“Don’t be impertinent!”

Dorothea was crushed. “I’m sorry,” she said with trembling lips. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It is fortunate that you will be returning to Wrotham shortly. In the meantime, you are not to see de Vignard.”

She raised her chin in a gesture that reminded him of Gabrielle.

“I cannot help but do so, for he is received everywhere. I suppose you do not wish me to cut him, or to cease to go about?”

“That would cause comment. But do not let me see you again in his company. Indeed, Dorrie, it is bound to be talked of if he pays you such particular attentions.”

To his surprise she looked rebellious, but she did not retort and he was satisfied.

“Tell your mother I should like to see her at three o’clock.” he requested, “if she has no pressing engagements. I must go back to the office now.” He kissed her cheek, squeezed her hand, and was gone.

As he drove towards Downing Street, his sister’s question haunted him. Was he in love with Gabrielle? His feelings for her were nothing like the agony he had gone through at sixteen, when he had worshipped Cecilia and thought she could do no wrong—and then seen her marry his father. Gabrielle frequently irritated him. Her independent spirit made it impossible to know how she would act next.

On the other hand, her independence and courage had led to his receipt of important news from France. He was grateful for that, and having taken responsibility for her in Dover, he found it impossible to leave her now to sink or swim. If only her wretched father would turn up, he could hand over the responsibility and return to his former tranquil life.

Somehow the prospect was not enticing.

 

 

Chapter 10

 

“Shall I invite them to stay with us?” asked Lady Cecilia guardedly.

"Would you?” Her stepson’s face lit up, then fell again. “No, best not.”

“I must admit it would look most particular, and it would be bound to occasion comment, which I daresay you would not like.” There was a hint of a question in her tone. When he did not respond she went on, “Perhaps the Dower House?”

“Lord no! I cannot imagine Gab—Miss Darcy in such a gloomy setting.”

Lady Cecilia hid a smile. “Have you visited it since your grandmother died? I remember being taken to meet her there, and gloomy was indeed the word for it. She never had the shutters opened for fear the carpets would fade, and never had a fire lit in winter for fear the house would burn down. Not only gloomy but downright damp!”

“There you are then. It is quite unsuitable.”

“Not at all. It has been thoroughly heated and aired, and due to her care the carpets are in fine condition, as are the curtains and everything else. The furnishings are very old-fashioned of course. There is a great deal of velvet and heavy brocade. In fact, I had been thinking of redecorating but I do not know where to start. If Lady Harrison would give me some ideas it would be of the greatest assistance, for she has exquisite taste.”

“But it will be many years before you retire there!”

“I trust so. I was hoping that the time might come when you would like to live there, Luke.”

He jumped up and strode to the window, where he stood looking out at the tiny garden behind the house.

"I cannot afford to marry,” he said harshly, then turned and smiled at her apologetically. “But I will offer Miss Darcy the Dower House if you think it suitable. Thank you.”

“If she likes the idea, I shall write an invitation to Lady Harrison.”

Lady Cecilia thought back to the last conversation they had had, when he had denied ever having loved anyone but herself.

There were definitely signs of progress.

* * * *

On his way to Russell Square, Mr Everett was suddenly assailed by doubt. Gabrielle was looking to rent a cottage, and she had indignantly refused to borrow money. Would she consider the loan of the Dower House an insult? The last thing he wanted was to offend her.

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