who nodded rather absently. ‘I imagine that you will prefer to rest quietly here at the house, Beth. In the circumstances.’
Beth blushed rosily and turned away to stare at the fire.
‘I see no reason why Beth should not go riding if she wishes to,’ Jon said, rather more harshly than he had intended. ‘She is a fine horsewoman, too, and she may have the pick of my stables.’
‘Thank you.’ Her response was very low and directed at the hearth.
‘Hmmph. I should tell you, Jon, that one of a hostess’s duties is to ensure that her guests are entertained. Beth may of course go riding, but only if all the other lady guests are doing so. If some of them choose to remain at the house, as I would expect, their hostess cannot desert them. We are agreed on that, are we not, Beth?’
Beth raised her head and turned to look directly at the Dowager. ‘None of our guests will have cause to fault the hospitality in this house, ma’am. Your lessons will not go unheeded.’
The Dowager nodded slowly twice, as if accepting due homage from an inferior. Jon found himself wondering just what had taken place during the last few days when his mother was supposedly helping Beth to assume her duties as mistress of Portbury Abbey. Was there a degree of friction between the two of them? He had blithely told Beth that, once she was his countess, no one would dare to malign her. But his mother, a dowager countess and the daughter of a wealthy and powerful family, had no need to mind her tongue. If she disapproved of Beth, she could certainly turn her life into a trial.
Jon stared across at his wife, trying to read her expression. Poor Beth. She was still far from secure in her new position. She was haunted by fears that ghosts might appear from her past to accuse her of wicked crimes. Sometimes, those fears had become so strong that she suffered appalling sick headaches. They were less frequent since her marriage, she said, but if his mother-
‘I must say that you seem to be quite an apt pupil, Beth,’ the Dowager said loftily. She ignored Beth’s sharp intake of breath and turned to Jon. ‘Your wife may have come to us with little knowledge of how to run a great house, Jon, but she is certainly trying to learn. I have no doubt that she will do extremely well. Eventually. Once she has had a chance to put my lessons into practice.’
That was exceedingly barbed, and quite unnecessarily hurtful. Jon looked at his mother with new eyes. He had thought her the pattern card of ladylike behaviour, but this…? What on earth did she have against Beth? His mother was a great lady, but she clearly lacked Beth’s kind heart and generosity of spirit. Beth did not deserve to be the butt of his mother’s sour tongue.
‘Beth, you are beginning to look rather pale,’ the Dowager continued, in slightly friendlier tones. ‘Are you sure you are quite well? Miss Mountjoy told me that she found you laid upon your bed last week. She had concerns that your health might be…er…delicate. She is quite experienced in such matters, of course.’
In the space of seconds, Beth’s slight pallor had changed to a fiery blush. She made to speak, but no words came out.
Jon was shocked and angered by his mother’s sly hint that Beth was not in robust good health. Apart from the occasional headache, she was blooming. He would not permit his wife to be tormented by Miss Mountjoy’s malicious insinuations, even at second hand. Equally, he could not rebuke his mother in front of his wife. ‘I am surprised to learn that Miss Mountjoy took it upon herself to venture up to my wife’s bedchamber. She is no longer employed here. As a visitor, she does
The Dowager raised her chin a fraction and glared back at him. ‘I understood that Beth had invited Miss Mountjoy upstairs.’
Jon did not believe that for a moment.
Beth was shaking her head. ‘I fear you have been misinformed, ma’am. I did no such thing. Nor would I,’ she added, with unusual vehemence. ‘Miss Mountjoy told me that you yourself had sent her to offer me the benefit of her…er…experience.’
The Dowager clamped her lips together. Her eyes were flashing angrily.
Jon knew exactly where to place the blame. Miss Mountjoy was capable of almost anything in pursuit of her hatred for Jon. This time, he would certainly have to deal with her, but first he had to prevent a rift between his mother and his wife. ‘Beth, my dear,’ he said gently, crossing to where she sat and raising her to her feet, ‘I am truly sorry there appears to have been a misunderstanding over this. But Mama is right, you do look a little pale. May I suggest you rest this afternoon? You have been working so hard, preparing for the house party. And you will have precious little time to yourself once the guests start arriving.’ He clasped her hand firmly and led her to the door. She did not resist, of course. She was too well bred to argue with Jon in front of his mother.
‘I will deal with this, I promise,’ he murmured into her hair, as he ushered her into the hall and stood watching while she made her way towards the stairs. He tried to ignore the sway of her hips, but the motion was exceedingly attractive to the eye. It was partly his own fault, since he had encouraged her to buy that expensive velvet carriage dress. Its every movement reminded him all too vividly of the body concealed beneath.
He was shaking his head when he returned to the saloon. He must stop enjoying his wife’s attractions and start thinking about how to deal with his mother’s apparent antipathy to her. What on earth could be the cause of it?
‘Was there something in particular you wished to discuss, Mama?’ he began innocently, taking the seat that Beth had vacated. ‘In relation to the guests?’
His mother seemed to have relaxed now that Beth was no longer in the room with them. ‘No, nothing in particular. I merely wanted to impress on your wife how important it is for this house party to pass off well. It is, after all, her first experience of acting as hostess since she became your countess. She has some rather…er…quaint notions of how to go on.’
Jon swore inwardly, but schooled his features into neutrality. ‘Indeed? I’m afraid I must have missed those, for I have seen nothing amiss. As a mere male, of course…’ He allowed his words to hang in the air, like a fly dancing on the surface of the water for the fish to bite.
His mother rose to the bait. ‘No, you would not. Men never do, I’m afraid. Your father was just as bad.’ When Jon said nothing, she continued, a little hesitantly, ‘I am hoping that your wife will come to appreciate the difference between her guests’ dressers and her own maid. I do not see that a chit from the workhouse, or wherever that girl came from, is at all appropriate to serve as lady’s maid to a countess.
Jon nodded curtly. ‘Thank you for your advice, Mama. I will ensure the matter is dealt with.’ He paused a moment to bring his seething anger under control. First Miss Mountjoy, and now this! ‘Was that the only thing you wished to discuss with me, ma’am?’
His mother looked for a moment as though she were about to make some other comment, but there must have been something in Jon’s expression that warned her to take care, for she pursed her lips and shook her head.
Jon smiled tightly. ‘I must thank you for all the help you have given Beth since we arrived, Mama. I am sure that, thanks to your tuition, she will do very well in her role as mistress of the Abbey. I know that you have found it irksome to be acting as my hostess over all these months, but I am very grateful. I imagine you will wish to return to the peace of the Dower House now that you have helped Beth to settle in?’
‘I…er…’ There was just a hint of a flush rising on the Dowager’s neck. She swallowed. ‘That is very considerate of you, Jon,’ she said tightly, ‘but I think it would be unwise for me to leave your wife alone quite yet. I am sure she will appreciate having a more experienced female at her side to act as…er…co-hostess. After all, she has had no chance yet to practise everything I have taught her.’
‘Quite so, quite so,’ Jon said, nodding. ‘And there will be other benefits of having two ladies to act as hostess. For example, you will be able to remain here at the house to entertain the older ladies, while Beth rides out with the younger ones, will you not?’
‘I-’ For once, the Dowager looked nonplussed.
Jon leaned across to pat his mother’s hand. ‘It is very good of you to do this, Mama, and I know Beth will appreciate the extra freedom you are giving her. As do I.’
His mother nodded. She was clearly outmanoeuvred, but she was much too proud to say a word.
Jon rose and bowed. ‘I must ask you to excuse me, Mama. I have urgent letters to write and some other business that must be discharged today.’ With his jaw set, he made his way out into the hall where the butler was hovering. ‘Have a message sent to my land agent, Goodrite. I will see him here, in one hour.’ Without waiting for an
