A Midsummer Bride Page 3

  “I was more nervous than I should like to admit,” she said in a soft voice.

  “Here we are now, everything is ready,” bellowed Lord Langley, entering with the housekeeper following behind.

  Thornton dropped Miss Redgrave’s hand and jumped back as if he had been caught molesting her.

  Miss Redgrave dropped him a curtsy and followed the housekeeper up the stairs to her bedchamber.

  “Thank you for keeping her company for a few minutes,” said Langley with a smile. Thornton was relieved Langley had either not seen the handshake or was not concerned by it.

  “I am pleased ye have been reunited with yer family,” said Thornton politely.

  “Can’t lose her too,” mumbled Langley, glancing around to make sure Miss Redgrave was no longer within sight. “No, I shall learn from past mistakes.”

  “Past mistakes?” echoed Thornton.

  “Beatrice. Should have married her off as soon as it was legal. A wedding would have kept her close to home.”

  “I am no’ sure marriage—”

  “Marriage!” interrupted Langley. “That is what we need.”

  “Whose marriage?” Thornton was lost.

  “Harriet’s marriage of course.”

  “Did she not say she would return on the next ship to America?”

  “Need to act fast, good thinking.” Langley rubbed his hands together. “What about your house party, my lad? Might be just the thing to find her a husband.”

  “Ye be welcome if ye wish, but—”

  “Good, good. I have a chance to redeem my reputation here. I shall have her married to a lord at the very least, or a duke, or maybe even a prince.” Langley looked him up and down like he was choosing a horse at Tattersall’s. “Even a Scottish earl might do,” he muttered.

  Thornton edged toward the door. “I shall bid ye a good night.”

  Langley cast him a conspiratorial grin. “I will see the girl married respectably this time. And you’re going to help me do it!”

  Three

  Harriet awoke in a strange, ornately decorated bedroom, and it took several moments to remember where she was. It all came back in a tumbled heap. She had been accepted by Lord Langley, introduced to the servants, given a hastily prepared welcome dinner, at which she sat at the far end of a long table from her grandfather. They ate in silence with no less than four footmen in attendance. At the end of that odd charade, she had been given her mother’s old bedroom, where she took her first opportunity to write a letter to her parents, and gratefully fell asleep.

  Despite everything that had happened, many of her thoughts circled around one man, and it was not her elderly grandfather. Lord Thornton factored prominently in her thoughts and even her dreams. She had never before been so afflicted, and was not sure what to name this growing interest in a man she had only just met.

  True, Lord Thornton was a handsome man, and true he had been kind to her. Perhaps it was simply finding a friend in a strange land that had her so captivated. That must be it. Yet she found herself anxious to meet her “friend” once more.

  “I see you are awake.” Nellie bustled into the room with a wide smile. “Well now, such doings I don’t know what to make of it. They gave me my old room, can you imagine? Haven’t slept in that bed since I was a young girl.”

  A bit bemused by her maid, Harriet accepted the offered dressing gown. Nellie had been working for the family since before she was born. She knew Nellie had come over from England with her mother, but honestly she had never given it much thought. Everything in London was new to Harriet, but to Nellie it was coming home.

  “I suppose we should make our way to the docks and book passage home,” said Harriet without much enthusiasm. She was accustomed to sailing short trips with her father, but the passage across the Atlantic was not something she relished repeating. And yet, there was only one way home.

  Nellie scrunched up her nose. “His lordship will send a man down to do that for you. If you don’t mind me saying, things are different here in London. Ladies do not visit the docks. Ever.” Nellie was firm on this.

  “I suppose that would be best,” conceded Harriet. “It would allow me time to visit some of the museums I have only read about. Can you imagine? Right now, I am within a short walk of the National Gallery and the British Museum!”

  Once again Nellie shook her head. “Ladies do not scamper about London on foot. Ever.”

  “Perhaps I could borrow one of his lordship’s horses?”

  “Gads, child, no! If you must visit a place, you will ride in a carriage. And you really ought to have a man escort you. I can go with you if there is none other. Or perhaps me and one of the footmen.” Nellie looked up at the ceiling, thinking aloud.

  “Do you think one of the footmen would be interested in visiting the museum?”

  “Interested? No, of course not. But propriety must be observed. You are the granddaughter of an earl and you are in London.”

  Harriet sighed. She hardly knew herself anymore. “Fine, whatever you think is best.” It wasn’t that she objected to propriety; she simply couldn’t spare a moment to think about it. As long as she got to visit the British Museum, the entire staff could tag along for all she cared. Might even be educational for them.

  “Good!” Nellie smiled at her like she was an obedient child. “Now I’ve been through your gowns, and I think the white with the blue sash would be perfect, though now that you are in London, you should consider visiting a modiste to get some frocks in the latest fashion. And your bonnets have been ripped to shreds from all that wind.”

  “Whatever for?” asked Harriet. “I reserved some frocks and bonnets from the rigors of the wind on decks. They should do. Besides, we will not be here more than a few weeks before we can find passage on a ship back to America.”

  Nellie’s face fell and she busied herself with Harriet’s wardrobe. “I have been thinking. As far as I know, my parents are still alive. And I haven’t seen my brothers and sisters in over thirty years.”

  “Oh.” Harriet suddenly saw her maid in a new light. Nellie had always been there and Harriet had simply accepted her presence in their lives as if she belonged to their family. But she didn’t. She belonged to another family, one she had left so many years ago.

  “Come here, poppet,” said Nellie and sat on the foot of the bed. Harriet joined her like they used to when she was young and Nellie was bandaging a scraped knee or a cut finger. With four elder brothers, Harriet had always been an active child.

  “I have not set foot in this house since the night we ran away,” began Nellie. “Being here brings it all back. Your mother was seventeen and I was nineteen. It seems so young now, but we thought ourselves very mature. Lord Langley was pressing Beatrice to marry a Lord Ashcroft—very old and very rich. Beatrice refused and they had a terrible row, which ended with him saying he would lock her away for madness and her saying she wished he was dead. Oh yes, the servants heard it all!”

  “Sounds very dramatic.” Harriet had difficulty seeing her calm, poised mother in this explosive light.

  “It was! I caught her sneaking out of the house and she declared she was running away with an American sea captain. Well, I thought she might really be mad! Oh, I tried to talk her out of it, I don’t mind saying. I didn’t know your father as I do now or I wouldn’t have wasted my breath. But in the end, she was resolute and I had a choice to make. I could alert her father, I could go back to bed and pretend I saw nothing, or I could go with her and make sure she was looked after.”

  “You chose to take care of my mum.”

  “Yes. Though I had no idea I would stay away so long.”

  Harriet had a pang of guilt for never once considering what a sacrifice Nellie had made to stay true to her mother. “Of course you would like to visit your family,” said Harriet. “How silly of me not to think of it. I think of you as so much a part of my family that I forgot you had one of your own.”

  “Truth is…” Nellie shifted a bi
t and took a deep breath. “Truth is, I was happy in America and had not thought to leave it, but now that I’m here, I would like to go home.”

  “Oh. I see.” All the air in Harriet’s lungs suddenly deflated. “You want to stay here.”

  “Yes, dear, I do.” Nellie patted her hand in an apologetic manner. “But of course I will stay with you until you are ready to sail and we shall find you a nice lady’s maid to travel with you. I’m sure your grandfather will likely send an escort with you too.”

  “Yes, yes, that would be fine.” Harriet’s mind whirled. In all her visions of the future, Nellie had always been by her side, the way she always was. And now she would be alone. It was not fine. Not at all. And yet…

  “You should go visit your family now,” blurted Harriet before she lost her courage. “You must wish to see them.”

  “I confess I do, but I would not leave you unprotected.”

  “I have my grandfather now, such as he is, and I believe you have done enough to protect the ladies of this family. It is high time you take care of yourself.” Harriet felt a rush of pride for having voiced what she knew to be right, followed by despair when Nellie happily accepted her offer and began to pack her bag.

  Harriet plastered a smile on her face as she hugged her maid, her friend and surrogate mother, good-bye. She snuck one of her leather pouches of gold into the maid’s bag when Nellie was not attending and packed her off in a hack for the ride across town to where Nellie’s relatives lived.

  Harriet waved and smiled and was immensely pleased that the tears did not begin to fall until the carriage was well out of sight. She turned to go back in the house. Now that there was no one to witness her tears, she decided it was time for a good cry.

  She had not gone more than a few steps before she was thwarted in her plan, met in the entryway by her grandfather, dressed in his hat and coat.

  “Good, you are dressed.” Langley gave her a curt nod of approval. “They are bringing around the carriage. I have asked the maids to pack your trunks. Do you need to take all of them?”

  “Whatever do you mean? Where are you going?” Once again Harriet’s world was shifting sidewise.

  “The house party. Lord Thornton has invited us to attend.” The earl smiled hopefully.

  “I am sorry, I fear you have misunderstood.” Harriet smiled, though she would have rather pushed past him to have a moment of privacy. “I am not here for a house party. I only wished to meet you and have a roof over my head until we, or rather I, could book safe passage back to America.”

  “Yes, well, I sent a man ’round to procure you tickets, and the first ship available leaves in one month.” He pursed his lips together as if soured by the enormity of the lie he just told.

  “I cannot believe that one month is the soonest option.”

  Langley’s eyes grew soft and pleading. “Harriet, I know I have no right to ask, since I have not been able to be present in your life—”

  “Chosen not to be present in my life,” interrupted Harriet.

  “Yes. Quite. But the thing is, I would like to make up for lost time. A visit to the Scottish Highlands would be rather nice and we could get to know each other better.”

  “Scottish Highlands?” Harriet did not wish to admit it, but her interest was piqued. She had always wanted to see that part of the world, almost as much as she wished to see the British Museum.

  “Yes, so beautiful this time of year.”

  “Lord Thornton invited us?”

  “Yes, he was quite insistent we attend.” Her grandfather’s eyes gleamed, though whether with familial happiness or malicious scheming, she did not know him well enough to tell.

  “He wished us to attend?” she asked. Did Thornton want them to come to Scotland? Later she would conclude her decision was the result of a lack of sleep and overwrought nerves, but at the moment an image of a tall, brooding Thornton beckoning her to the Highlands became a powerful incentive. Besides, she should at least spend a little time with her grandfather.

  “Very well then, I accept. But I must insist we visit the British Museum before we leave town.”

  “But we haven’t the time—”

  “Or I will not go.”

  Lord Langley gave her a tight smile. “I’ll take you there now, on our way out of town!”

  Four

  Penelope Rose accepted a cup of tea from the Dowager Duchess of Marchford. As the companion to the elderly duchess, it was expected that Penelope would join the duchess for tea while she entertained visitors. This afternoon, the Duke of Marchford and his friend Lord Thornton joined them.

  “Tea, dear?” The duchess offered a cup to her grandson, the current Duke of Marchford. He accepted with stoic silence that bordered on sullen. Not that Penelope could blame him, since the dowager had just informed him she had invited several more families to his house party.

  “Lord Thornton, would you care for some cake?” The dowager offered a delicious morsel to his lordship and he accepted. As a close friend to Marchford, he was not an uncommon visitor at Marchford House. He was also accustomed to the legendary disagreements between the elderly duchess and her grandson, and had learned to eat his cake quietly and let the combatants battle it out. Penelope also accepted some cake, and much like Thornton, she waited to see the show.

  “Of course, it would have been nicer and a good deal easier if you had chosen to hold your house party at our own country seat and not Thornton Hall of all places,” said the dowager.

  “I wished to spend a few weeks in the peace of the country, away from society,” complained Marchford. “Thornton has been gracious enough to allow me to host my little gathering at his country seat in Scotland. I intended to invite a few friends to go hunting, not host the house party of the summer.”

  The dowager smiled slowly. “Yes, it has become one of the most sought after invitations.”

  “The whole point of the excursion into Scotland was to avoid society.” Marchford was clearly nettled.

  “Bah!” The dowager waved a hand at him. “You are a duke. You are unmarried. Society would follow you to Botany Bay.”

  The butler entered the morning room and announced a visitor, which was enough for Marchford and Thornton to stand in a calculated retreat.

  “Whoever it is, I absolutely forbid you to invite them to the house party,” demanded Marchford.

  “The visitor is Lord Langley,” said the butler.

  The dowager gave an arch look. “Lord Langley? What on earth is he doing here? Never fear, he will not receive an invitation from me.”

  “Actually,” said Thornton in an apologetic tone, “I have already invited him.”

  “Et tu, Brute?” Marchford groaned and the men left the morning room.

  Lord Langley was ushered in and sat opposite the dowager. “Good afternoon.” He was a well-dressed gentleman, somewhat portly around the middle, but with an active face, silver-streaked black hair, and sharp, blue eyes.

  “Good afternoon,” said the dowager. After an uncomfortable pause, she added, “Tea?”

  “Yes, please,” said Langley. “I would like it with—”

  “I know how you like your tea,” interrupted the dowager. “Sugar, no milk.”

  “Yes,” said Langley accepting the cup. “You have a good memory.”

  “You will find I have a good memory for many things,” said the dowager with a malicious purr in her tone.

  Lord Langley wiped his brow and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. What exactly the nature of the bad blood between the dowager and Langley was, Penelope did not dare ask. They were contemporaries and had known each other a good deal longer than Penelope had been alive.

  “Your Grace,” began Langley.

  “No, please, you must call me Antonia, the way you always did when we were children.” The duchess again smiled. It was the kind of smile a mouse might see right before being devoured by a cat.

  Penelope tried to keep a smile from her own face. Whatever Langley had done to
irritate the dowager, she was giving no quarter today.

  Langley sighed—or perhaps it was more of a groan. “Antonia, I have come because I would like to know your contact for this matchmaker the whole ton is talking about.”

  “I am so sorry, but Madam X is very reclusive. I could not possibly reveal her identity,” said the duchess with a bite to her tone. “Besides, are you not too old to be wanting to find a new wife?”

  “What? Oh, no, it is not for me,” assured Langley. “It is for… that is to say… the truth of the matter is that it is for my granddaughter.” His voice trailed off such that he ended in a whisper.

  The dowager raised an eyebrow. “I was not aware you were blessed with grandchildren.”

  Langley shook his head. “Neither was I.”

  “So your granddaughter has returned,” said the dowager with a sip of tea. “You must have been quite surprised to see her. And so remarkable since your daughter has been living in a sanitorium for the past four decades.”

  “My daughter was married to a Captain Redgrave, as you well know,” said Langley in a low voice.

  “How interesting for you, to have such connections.”

  Lord Langley put his teacup down on the saucer with a loud clank. He glared at the dowager, who smiled sweetly in return. “I see I have come on a fool’s errand.” He set down his teacup on the table and stood.

  “You were right about the fool part,” said the dowager, all pretense of pleasant conversation drained from her face.

  “Will you never let go of the past? It has been over fifty years.”

  “Leave it to you to be so precise with your times. What a shame it was not a characteristic you held earlier in your career.”

  “Why are you so quick to bring up things of the past? Why hold on to such trivial matters?”

  “Trivial? Trivial?” The dowager rose along with her voice. “You call leaving me at the altar on the morning of our wedding a trivial matter?”

  In the silence that followed, Penelope tried not to gape. The dowager had been engaged to Lord Langley? Well now, this was definitely an interesting morning.