to that comfortable, companionable life I promised you, Beth. You will learn to run my household-my mother will instruct you in your role there-while I deal with the business of my estates, and my duties to Parliament. I have neglected both, I fear, since my return from Spain. In the evenings, we will be able to sup together, as a family, and sit by the fire. It is a delightful picture, is it not?’
It was not delightful at all. It appeared that the Dowager would be living with them, as well as
‘Ah, Jon. Punctual as ever.’ His mother was beaming at him without a trace of artifice. ‘Do come over to the fire. I know how chilly you find it, here in England.’
Jon took his stance in front of the roaring fire and let it warm his back. He glanced round at his mother’s cosy sitting room. Soon, she would return to the Dower House and Beth would take over this room. In the spring, he decided, he would offer to have it redecorated for her, in any colour she wanted. She might like new furniture, too. There was no reason why she should have to keep what Alicia had chosen. The memory of his dead wife sent the usual shudder down his spine.
‘There, it is just as I said. You are still frozen to the marrow. I cannot imagine why you chose to ride when you could have travelled in your comfortable carriage, with hot bricks for your feet.’
‘I needed the exercise, Mama.’ A half-truth. After London, he had known it was wisest to avoid Beth’s company. ‘Spain can be cold in winter, too, you know,’ he quipped.
‘I’m sure it can, my dear.’ She glanced towards the door. ‘Is your wife not planning to join us? I thought we might have tea, just the three of us. We have had no time for real conversation since you arrived.’
‘Beth is tired after travelling all day, Mama. I told her to rest before dinner. I knew you would understand.’
His mother gave him a very quizzical look. ‘If she is fatigued, then she must certainly rest. Pull the bell, Jon, if you please.’
The butler arrived almost instantly with the tea tray. As was her wont, Jon’s mother sat silent and immobile until Goodrite had bowed himself out. It was partly from her that Jon had learned the importance of protecting his privacy. Gossip, whether from servants or gentry, could be the very devil.
The Dowager calmly poured tea and handed Jon his cup. She had remembered exactly how he liked it. She had always been a consummate hostess. Beth would be learning from the best possible teacher.
‘If you are warmer now, perhaps you would sit down? I find that looking up so far creates a pain in the neck.’
Jon gave a snort of laughter, but he did as he was bid.
‘Your wife seems a delightful girl, Jon. You met her at Fratcombe, I collect?’ When he nodded, she continued without a pause. ‘I see now why you were so eager to return there. You said, if I recall correctly, that you were returning to meet a challenge you relished. If Miss Aubrey was the challenge in question, I can quite understand your haste. She has a…a certain quality that would draw a man.’
Jon started back, took a deep breath through his nose and let it out very, very slowly. He did not dare open his lips, lest he insult his mother by telling her precisely what he thought of her tasteless remark. Was she actually daring to suggest that Beth had led him on in some vulgar fashion? That she was a practised seductress?
His silent fury must have been obvious, for she quickly became contrite. ‘Forgive me, I did not mean to say anything in her dispraise. She is, as I said at the outset, a delightful young lady. I would not, for the world, pry into the details of your courtship, Jon. It is enough for me that you are married, and content.’
‘Thank you, Mama.’ He must have mistaken her meaning, he decided. She would never malign the wife he had chosen. And she would help Beth to find her feet at Portbury, too. ‘I hope that you and Beth will soon become like mother and daughter. After all, you never had a daughter of your own, did you?’ Alicia did not count. She had been a failure as a wife, and also as a daughter-in-law.
‘No, I did not,’ she said, with a slightly tight smile. ‘If your wife becomes like a daughter to me, I should be more than glad.’
It irked him suddenly that his mother would not call Beth by name, even though she knew it perfectly well. ‘Her name, Mama, is Beth.’
‘Elizabeth?’
‘She prefers Beth.’
‘Then so it shall be.’ She leant towards him a little, smiling broadly. ‘By the way, I sent out all the Christmas invitations in the normal way. I knew your wife-I knew Beth would not arrive here in time to do them.’ She preened a little. ‘The first guests will arrive in about a week.’
Jon swore inwardly. The Portbury tradition of holding a grand Christmas house party was the last thing he wanted to continue. He should have told his mother to cancel it this year, but he had totally forgotten about it. So he could not blame her for what she had done. Indeed, she had been trying to be helpful. He managed to exclaim as if he were delighted. ‘I had no right to expect such exertions from you, Mama, especially now that I have a wife at my side to act as hostess.’
‘As I said, there would not have been time. If the invitations had been late, there would have been gossip.’ She sniffed. She detested gossip about her family. ‘I was happy to do it. And Miss Mountjoy helped. In fact, she has made some remarkably useful suggestions.’
Miss Mountjoy. He should have guessed. No doubt, her suggestions had served to increase the guest list and lengthen their stay. The Mountjoy woman was both clever and dangerous, with a slyly malicious tongue, but as long as she was his mother’s confidante, there was nothing Jon could say, not even to Beth.
Hetty slipped into Beth’s bedchamber and crept across to the bed.
‘I am not asleep, Hetty. I feel much refreshed and my headache has gone.’ That was a blessing, since she had misled Jon, saying only that she was weary.
‘Miss Mountjoy is here, m’lady. With a message from her ladyship.’
‘Miss Mountjoy? Here? How very strange. I will come at once.’ Miss Mountjoy had been introduced by the Dowager as a neighbour from the village, yet here she was, running errands as if she were a menial. Moreover, although she did not live at Portbury Abbey, she clearly knew the house intimately. Beth was at a loss to understand what was going on, but good manners prevailed; she slipped her arms into the wrapper Hetty was holding and followed her maid into the sitting room that divided her bedchamber from Jon’s.
Miss Mountjoy’s eyes widened as Beth came into the room. She stared for several seconds too long, before dropping a brief curtsy. For some reason, it made Beth uncomfortable to be meeting this odd woman when so informally clad. ‘I am a little cold, Hetty. Fetch my shawl, please.’
‘Hetty?’ Miss Mountjoy said as the maid disappeared. ‘What a curious name for a lady’s maid.’ She clapped a hand to her mouth to cover a high-pitched titter. ‘Oh, pray forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to sound impertinent. But I thought- That is, her ladyship said you would be bound to engage a high-class dresser while you were in London. Seeing someone so…er…young and small was something of a shock.’
Miss Mountjoy might be the Dowager’s bosom bow, but she was certainly not going to be Beth’s! Insufferable woman! How dare she?
Beth waited for Hetty to wrap the heavy Norwich shawl around her shoulders and return to the bedchamber before she spoke. She was the Countess of Portbury now. She would not be outfaced by a woman like this. ‘My maid said you had a message from her ladyship. It was not, I collect, about my choice of dresser?’
Miss Mountjoy’s nostrils quivered for a second. Then she smiled too broadly. ‘No, indeed, my lady, I- His lordship’s lady mother was concerned to learn that you were so fatigued after your journey, especially after travelling in such extravagant comfort. We thought you might perhaps be…er…ailing. She knows I have some knowledge of attending to ladies when their health is…er…delicate.’ She raised her chin proudly. ‘That was before I came to King’s Portbury, of course. If there is anything I might do to assist your ladyship…?’
Good grief! Jon’s mother was sending this…this toady to enquire if Beth was breeding. It was beyond insult. It was utter humiliation. Was this how her life was to be at King’s Portbury?
‘Hetty!’ The maid appeared instantly. She must have been just behind the door.
‘Thank you for your concern, Miss Mountjoy, but I shall not be needing your assistance.’ Let her make what she would of that! ‘Hetty, show Miss Mountjoy out.’ Without so much as a nod to her unwelcome visitor, Beth turned on her heel and marched back into her bedchamber.
‘How much of that did you hear?’ Beth demanded when Hetty returned.
