Lord Greywell's Dilemma (14 page)

“One day all this will be yours,” she told him, gesturing to the lawns and trees. “And the sooner you get strong and healthy, the sooner we’ll go out and explore it together. Not that I intend you should stay cooped up in the house as you have been. We’ll bundle you up in your warmest clothes and take a short walk this afternoon. Long enough to get some fresh air, but not long enough to chill you. If the light’s too bright for you, we’ll put on a bonnet with a brim to shield your eyes.”

The silence in the corridor was broken by the nursery maid’s footsteps as she carried a loaded tray up to Bates. The girl didn’t notice Elspeth by the window and hurried on up the stairs humming happily to herself. Did she always do that? Was Greywell mistaken that his staff were downhearted and morbid about the child’s chances of survival? Elspeth assured herself it no longer mattered, save that she do her best to see them all bright and cheerful, especially in Andrew’s presence. Which might prove a little difficult, if she antagonized them. And it was difficult not to antagonize people when you were forcing them to change their ways.

“But we’ll manage, won’t we?” she asked the silent baby as she wandered back to her room. Taking a blanket from his cradle, she spread it on her own bed, covered it with several cloths, and laid him down on his stomach. His eyes continued to follow her, and he had to lift his head a little to do it.

“Good,” she said. “We’re going to give you lots of things to look at so you exercise those muscles. And we’re going to get you kicking your legs and pulling with your arms. Our doctor in Aylesbury said that was very important. It’s all well and good to feel all cozy and secure in a tight blanket, Andrew, but you need a little exercise to work up an appetite.”

The next hour she spent encouraging him to take an interest in her movements and the objects she brought to him. He was fascinated by the lacquered lid of her powder box, which she carefully wiped clean of any traces of powder before allowing him to grasp it in his little fist. She laughed at him, and talked to him and cuddled him until he started to doze off from sheer exhaustion. Then she put him in the cradle, kissed his pale forehead, and said, “Sleep well, little love, and wake ready to drink more milk than you’ve ever had before. You’re going to need to keep up your strength with me around.”

He was already fast asleep by the time a maid came in bearing a tray with hot chocolate at eight. Elspeth was severely tempted to go back to sleep when she’d drunk it but forced herself to dress and join her husband in the Breakfast Parlor after she’d left Bates sitting with the child in her room.

Though she had chosen the most cheerful of the dresses that were already unpacked, it was not one of her more becoming outfits. The mustard color brought out a sallowness in her skin and the fullness of its skirt made her look frumpy, but it was that or a dark green, a dark blue, or another gray. Elspeth didn’t have much choice.

Greywell had risen when she entered the room, his eyes quick to take in the unsuitable costume. “It’s the only thing I had that wasn’t depressing” she told him as she took the chair a footman held. “When the rest of my clothes are unpacked there are a few other things I’ll be able to wear.

“You don’t look as though you slept well. Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m a little tired,” she admitted. “In time I’m sure I’ll accustom myself to Andrew’s little squeaks and groans, but they were a bit unnerving.”

“He doesn’t have to sleep in your room.” Greywell gave her an “I told you so” look, though he hadn’t told her anything of the kind.

“I want him to sleep in my room. I want to spend the majority of his waking hours with him, just now, at the start. He needs to get familiar with me, to hear my voice even when he’s sleeping so I won’t be a stranger to him.”

Greywell studied her while she buttered a slice of toast. Her eyes looked larger because of the light circles under them.

“I don’t want you to exhaust yourself, my dear,” he remarked kindly, before dismissing the servants for a more private talk.

“I shan’t.” Her expression became earnest. “He’s a darling boy, Greywell, and I feel so good having a purpose. I’ve already discovered something that might have been keeping him poorly. No, I don’t intend to tell you what it was. You might misunderstand. Just be assured I shall do my best to see he gets the proper care, and I’ve learned a great deal about babies over the last few years.”

“Hmm. Don’t you think it would be wise if you talked with Dr. Wellow before you made any drastic changes, Elspeth? He’s been watching the child’s progress since he was born.”

“Well, of course I shall talk to him! The sooner the better. I don’t think there’s anything in the regimen I’m proposing which will alarm him in the least.” Elspeth frowned momentarily, setting down her piece of toast. “Though he might perhaps have some reservations about my intention to get Andrew a little fresh air. Doctors are notorious for believing all sorts of vile things are afloat in the air. But this isn’t London, or even an industrial area. Good country air is a lot better for a child than something like that stuffy room he’s been spending all day in. Isn’t there a larger room which could be used for the nursery?”

“We’d originally intended to keep him in the room that connects with Bates, but when he appeared so sickly . . .”

“Yes, I see. It’s not something that has to be changed immediately, because I intend to keep him with me for a while.” Elspeth took a bite of the ham, pondering her next request. “May I have a crib built for him, like the one I described last night? He’s too old for a cradle, even if he’s not too big. Babies need some room to move about in, Greywell. They need to exercise their arms and legs, to roll over and shift about.”

“My own crib is in the room that was to have been the nursery. It’s not painted white, and it doesn’t have ladybugs and violets painted on it.” Greywell grimaced, whether at her idea of a proper crib or at his own she couldn’t tell. “In fact, it’s an antique, rather rococo, with a lot of gold leaf on it.”

“I’ll look at it,” she promised, skeptical. “It might do if we hung a few cloth toys within his reach that he could bat about. Really, he must have more to look at than a dark room! Even in the poorest households I’ve visited the babies have had something to play with and look at.”

“There are any number of things in the other nursery. I think Bates has left them there because he didn’t show any interest in them.” He took a sip of cooling coffee. “Caroline made quite a few things for him that were put away.”

“But he should have them!” Elspeth insisted. “They will be treasures to him when he’s older, knowing his mother made them for him. Or perhaps you would rather they be kept unused so they will still be new when he’s old enough to appreciate them.”

“She made them for his use.” Greywell dismissed the subject with a wave of his hand. “Do as you please, Elspeth. I’m willing to trust your judgment with Andrew, as long as the doctor finds your ‘remedies’ acceptable. I thought you would like Mrs. Green to show you over the house this morning, but I wouldn’t be surprised if we had some visitors. Word always seems to spread so quickly in the country, and there will be those who wish to call on you. You might have one of the maids press a different gown, one that would be more suitable to company. Your trunks were put in the room next to yours until there was time for you to supervise their unpacking.”

“Will your neighbors find it objectionable that you’ve remarried so soon?” Elspeth regarded him curiously, apparently not disturbed by the possibility.

“Some of them may. I wouldn’t let that worry you. They won’t come if particularly offended, and if they do come, they’ll be polite.”

“Do you intend to tell them you’ll be leaving for Vienna soon?”

“Yes. Would you rather I didn’t?”

“Not at all. I hope you will.” Elspeth popped the last bit of toast into her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. “I think it wouldn’t be a bad idea to stress my role with Andrew, either. For the time being I plan to spend a lot of time with him, and it would be a nuisance to have an excessive number of bride visits with which to contend.”

Greywell’s brows came down in a settled frown. “Surely you know how important it is that you be accepted in the community, Elspeth. For your sake as well as my own, and eventually for Andrew’s. I hope you don’t intend to put up people’s backs by not receiving them. That would be quite the wrong way to go about things.”

“I promise you I have no intention of offending anyone, or of reducing your consequence.” Her level stare across the elaborate breakfast table was haughty. “You may be sure I know precisely how to comport myself, Greywell.”

“It’s not that I doubt you do, my dear,” he said, trying for a more placid tone, and not quite achieving it. “You conceive of Andrew as your first duty, and I admire your devotion to it. Nonetheless, you should remember there are any number of people here who can care for him, while there is only you who can greet our guests as my . . . wife and the new mistress of Ashfield. So you must not confuse your priorities.”

Elspeth gave a dainty sniff. “I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear sir. If you will excuse me, I’ll have Mrs. Green show me around my new . . . domain.”

Her husband groaned inwardly as she made an elaborate curtsy to him and glided regally, chin up, from the room.

* * * *

As with any really large house, there wasn’t time, on the first inspection, to do much more than gather an impression of most of the rooms. Certain rooms seemed to be favorites with Mrs. Green, possibly because of their truly excessive furnishings and decorations. Her expertise ran to knowing the names and relationships of all the Foxcott family immortalized in portraits in the paneled Long Gallery, where there was, she explained in answer to Elspeth’s question, no portrait of the late Lady Greywell, it having been planned for the following summer.

“There is a miniature, though. I’ll show it to you,” the housekeeper offered. “What a beautiful woman she was, with the most glorious golden hair and glowing green eyes. And her complexion! Well, I’ve never seen the like of its creamy texture. So very sad.”

Elspeth turned aside as the housekeeper dabbed at her eyes, studying the portraits hung the entire length of the enormously long room. When Mrs. Green had regained control of her emotions, she led Elspeth through another succession of rooms. The North Drawing Room was hung with magnificent tapestries, and the South Drawing Room with a succession of murals and mirrors. Elspeth found the latter overwhelming and hoped it wasn’t the room used most frequently for company.

The Great Chamber, the Double Cube Room, the Saloon, the Chapel, the State Bedroom, the Long Library, the Miniature Room. It was all too much to absorb at once, but Elspeth maintained a demeanor of interest and approval. Really there was a sameness to the rooms after a while: all highly decorated with the most ornate furniture and trappings, enough gilt about to please even Midas. Elspeth eyed one room, called the Queen’s Closet, which she intended to have for her private retiring room. Her own bedchamber wasn’t divided to make a good sitting as well as sleeping room, and the closet was only two doors down from it. Fortunately, there was very little furniture in it to be gotten rid of.

Several aspects of her tour were of special interest to the new mistress. Mrs. Green had hesitated before taking her into her predecessor’s chamber, where everything had been left much as it had been when poor Caroline died. Her silver-backed hairbrushes were still laid out on the dressing table, and little knickknacks were scattered about the room. It was the only room that had been recently redecorated, and it was still too ornate for Elspeth’s taste. Because she didn’t wish to appear too curious, they didn’t stay long, though Elspeth intended to return when Greywell was safely on his way to Vienna.

Greywell’s own chamber was merely indicated to her with a wave of Mrs. Green’s hand, but Elspeth knocked on the door and his valet allowed her a cursory glance over the mammoth chamber. That room, too, she would explore further at her leisure. Elspeth was not, she assured herself, unduly nosy; it was a matter of acquainting herself with the whole of her new residence, and with the external setting of a rather enigmatic husband.

In the Miniature Room Mrs. Green lovingly took down the promised miniature of Caroline, which was indeed as beautiful as she had promised. Elspeth murmured the expected appreciation and sorrow. Actually, she felt both, but they disturbed her more than she had expected they would. No wonder Greywell was so overwrought by the loss of this enchanting woman. What a pity Andrew would never know her as his mother in anything but a miniature. She carefully replaced the frame on the wall, only to have her eye caught by a display of snuffboxes immediately beneath it.

“And what’s this?” she asked, indicating the collection.

“His lordship collects snuffboxes, milady,” Mrs. Green said, sounding somehow surprised that Elspeth wouldn’t know. “It’s a great occupation with him. There must be fifty in this room alone, and you’ll find them scattered throughout the other rooms when you have a chance to investigate them more thoroughly. In addition he has several dozen in his study and in his bedchamber, I’d guess, his more recent acquisitions.”

“He collects snuffboxes?” Elspeth asked, incredulous. “Whatever for?”

“Why, because he likes them, I suppose. Some of them are very pretty.”

And some of them, thought Elspeth, glaring at two with naked nymphs, are totally objectionable. Did Greywell intend to leave them lying about the house when his son was growing up? What sort of education was that for an impressionable young mind? She preceded Mrs. Green from the room without voicing her puritanical thoughts.

“We won’t go to his lordship’s study,” Mrs. Green decided, bypassing a closed door. “He’ll be there now with his estate agent, arranging matters for when he’s abroad. Ah, here’s Selsey now. Do we have visitors?” she asked, smiling coyly at the butler.

“Indeed. Mrs. Waltham has just arrived. At the front door,” he added, making Elspeth wonder if this was something unusual. “I was just about to inform his lordship and her ladyship.”