Tea and Scandal (2 page)

“
Miss Prism paid me fifty a year, plus room and board.
”

A merry peal of laughter rang out.
“
Skint! I was paid two hundred when I was Lizzie
’
s companion, and I didn
’
t have to lift a finger except to summon a servant. Fifty wouldn
’
t keep you in ribbons here. We shall say two hundred for starters. How is that? I shall give you your first installment this very day.
”

“
It
’
s too much!
”

Fay smiled. “Get used to it. I don’t mean to keep myself locked away. Until my mourning is up, I cannot go flaunting myself in public, but I can entertain a few guests to dinner, and visit friends, now that I have a cohort. And you will be with me, rigged out like a fine lady. I’ll not be cowed by Lady Nose-in-the-air Sykes. Dammed if I will. There! I should not have said that. It was Pargeter who got me in the habit. Now that I have a vicar’s daughter to keep me in line, I shall soon be as nice as a nun again.”

“
A vicar
’
s daughter and a schoolmistress.
”

“Pargeter said we were all fools, Jane, when I talked to him about our family. A clever man like your papa ought to have gone up to London and become a politician. You would not have been left penniless when he died. And you should have got yourself into a noble house where you would meet some interesting gentlemen.
”

“
A gentleman is not likely to marry a governess, Auntie.
”

“
I know one who married his housekeeper, and she was not young and pretty like you
—
although she was not too old to catch a gentleman
’
s eye.
”
On another peal of laughter, she called Broome to show Miss Lonsdale to the Rose Guest Suite.

“
I shall let you get settled in. We dine at six. All we fine ladies dress for dinner. One never knows, Lady Sykes might set fire to the house. I would not give her the satisfaction of catching me without a string of diamonds around my neck.
”

Jane followed Broome upstairs to an elaborate suite of such splendor, she was half afraid to touch anything. It looked like a palace, after the humble room she had shared with a fellow teacher, Harriet Stowe, at Miss Prism
’
s Academy.

She wandered about the bedroom and sitting room, marveling at the size and richness of the space. The sheen of rose brocade on the canopied bed and at the windows cast a glow on the carved mahogany furnishings. Her feet sank into the thick wool of an Oriental carpet. A servant had unpacked while she sat below with Fay. Her few gowns did not take up a quarter of the armoire, and her tortoiseshell comb and brush looked forlorn on the toilet table. How very different life was going to be, here at Wildercliffe.

And how very odd that Aunt Fay was mistress of it all. Jane could understand Fay’s marrying Pargeter for security, and for all the luxury his money brought. What she could not comprehend was why Pargeter had married Fay. Why not marry a younger lady, who might give him an heir? Or at least a lady from his own class of society. And he had not only married her, he had done it within a year of his wife’s death. Of course, Pargeter was accustomed to having Fay about the place. To avoid scandal, he had married her—and within a few months Fay had ended up the inheritor of the whole fortune. Jane could easily understand that Lady Sykes was miffed. It did seem unfair.

At Swann Hall, a very impatient Lady Sykes yanked at her shawl and scowled at her host as if it were his fault that she was so frustrated. Lady Sykes had been pretty once, but decades of greed and quarreling had left their mark on her face. Sharp lines were etched between her eyebrows and at the corners of her green eyes. Her auburn hair was streaked with silver, but it was her petulant lips, clamped in an angry, determined line, that lent her the air of a bulldog.

“
Must you slouch in that ill-bred manner, Horace?
”
she said sharply to her brother.

Horace Gurney was possibly even more eager than the lady
’
s host to see the back of her. The malleable Scawen Swann had allowed Horace, a mere connection, to billet himself at Swann Hall for the past decade. Despite the difference in their ages, the gentlemen rubbed along smoothly. If Scawen
’
s wine cellar had to be restocked more often than formerly, he was too kind to say so.

“
Any word from Belton on Fay Rampling?
”
Horace inquired. Belton was the lawyer she had hired to check up on Lady Pargeter, in hopes of discovering some irregularity in the infamous marriage.

Lady Sykes bridled up like an angry mare.
“
I have it on the best authority she fed poor Harold wine from morning to night. No doubt she called in a preacher while he was in his cups and did the deed. It is nothing else but coercion, and as soon as Belton can get one of the footmen or maids to corroborate it, I shall have her taken before a magistrate.
”

Swann poked the dying embers and said in an amiable way,
“
Nothing in that, I fear. Harold was always a bit of a toper, beginning with ale for breakfast, through to a jug of brandy before hitting the tick at night. Mind you, he held his spirits like a gentleman.
”

“
Nothing wrong with a wee drop,
”
Horace said, tilting the wine decanter into his glass.

Lady Sykes directed one withering look of disgust at her brother. He looked little better than a groom, in his wrinkled jacket and with that unkempt head of gray hair. He was the image of their papa, a hulking man with no elegance and no manners. Lady Sykes preferred to forget her ancestors. Thank God Horace made his home with Scawen, or she would be lumbered with him in London.

“
It was the brandy that rotted Pargeter
’
s brain,
”
she announced.
“
Pargeter must have been insane to marry her. Insanity is an excellent excuse to overturn the will. And who performed the ceremony? I made sure it was Vicar Hellman, but he tells me he knew nothing of the marriage until he heard it from Lord Malton. They did not post any banns. That looks fishy. I doubt they were ever legally married at all.
”

“
Special license, I believe,
”
Scawen said, with a kindly smile.
“
Perfectly legal.
”

Lady Sykes snorted.
“
I shall ask Belton to look into it.
”
She rose, gathering her shawl around her, to retire.

Phoebe regularly retired to her chamber at nine on the dot to fire off
a barrage of scolding letters to all her near and dear. The gentlemen agreed they could not cope with her were it not for those few free hours at the end of the day. They exchanged a sorry look when the door knocker sounded. Nine was late for a caller, but not too late for Belton, and his calls always put Phoebe in a pucker. Lady Sykes resumed her seat, mentally arraying accusations, complaints, questions, and demands to put to Belton.

Morton, the butler, appeared at the door of the saloon.
“
Lord Fenwick,
”
he announced.

Lady Sykes leapt from the sofa as if she had been goaded by a cattle prod.
“
Lord Fenwick! What the devil is he doing here? Show him in, Morton.
”
She turned to Swann, adding,
“
You ought to speak to that butler, Scawen. Leaving Lord Fenwick standing in that drafty hall, and in a soiled jacket, too.
”

“
Fenwick never wore a soiled jacket in his life,
”
Scawen chided her.
“
A regular out and outer.
”

“
Morton never wore a clean one.
”
She said no more, for she had to compose her face into a smile to greet Lord Fenwick, who was top of the trees.

To describe his appearance did not do him justice. He was of sufficient height and breadth of shoulders to qualify as well built. While not excessively handsome, his features were regular and pleasantly arranged: well-barbered brown hair, clever gray eyes, a straight nose, good teeth. His jackets, while impeccably cut, did not soar to any Olympian heights of dandyism. Yet with no outstanding features, he still managed to create a special air of consequence. His breeding showed in his easy manners, which never gave offense
—
unless he wished to.

Lady Sykes had never quite managed to trace his relation to herself, but as they were both connected to Pargeter, she claimed kinship, and made the most of it.

“
Fenwick! What a delightful surprise!
”
she gushed.
“
Do come in. Should you not be in London, enjoying the Season?
”

Fenwick advanced gracefully across the room and made his bows all around. Then he lifted Phoebe
’
s hand and bestowed a kiss above it.
“
I followed my heart
—
to you, dear Cousin Phoebe. What should the ton be discussing but your absence?
”

She lapped it up like a hungry cat taking cream.
“
Flatterer! Who would miss poor old me?
”

“I not only missed you, my dear, but was so upset I asked Nigel where you were sequestering yourself, and came darting,
ventre à terre
,
at once to find you.
”

“
Chasing after a filly, in other words,
”
Scawen said.

“
Au contraire,
Cousin.
”

“
Eh? What do you mean?
”

“
He means a filly is chasing after him, ninnyhammer,
”
Lady Sykes translated.

Fenwick smiled a bland smile.
“
Actually, I am on my way to my hunting box. It is no matter. I am here. Let the revels begin.
”
He took a seat beside Phoebe.
“
What brings you to the wilds of Wildercliffe, Phoebe? Taking up hunting, are you?
”

“
Don
’
t be ridiculous. How should I pay for a hunter?
”

“
With money, like the rest of us. You have plenty of it.
”

As Lady Sykes had been flaunting her imaginary poverty as a pretext for challenging Pargeter
’
s will, she replied nobly,
“
I am poor as a church mouse, Fenwick.
”

“
Ah, lost it all upon
‘
Change, did you? Pity,
”
he said, with an air of utter indifference.

“
Call for the good wine, Scawen,
”
she said.

“
You make me feel as if I were at a wedding at Cana,
”
Fenwick murmured.
“
Actually, I would prefer tea, if it is not too much trouble.
”

“
Coming right up,
”
Scawen said, and pulled the bell cord.

Nothing was ever too much trouble for Scawen Swann. He was built low to the ground, like a badger. His sandy hair grew in a cowlick that no amount of brushing or water or oil could subdue. Jackets had a way of turning to wrinkles and spots as soon as they touched his back. He looked like a tramp, but his undemanding nature and generosity made him the most popular gentleman in the county.

“
Can you stay a day or two?
”
Scawen asked.

It suited Lord Fenwick very well to remain incommunicado for a few days. A certain Lady Alice Merton was hot on his trail. He had claimed urgent business in Bath to escape her. His mama had retired there for the water. But as Lady Alice knew his mama, he had stopped at Bath only long enough to tell Lady Fenwick what he was up to.

“
Go to your hunting lodge,
”
his mama had suggested.
“
She will not be brass-faced enough to follow you there uninvited.
”

He felt Mama was a little optimistic in the matter. Lady Alice had followed him from London to Brighton, and had spoken of visiting cousins in Bath when he told her where he was going. She might very well show up at his lodge, but she could not ferret him out here as he had suppressed Swann
’
s name.

“
Of course, Fenwick will remain a few days,
”
Lady Sykes informed her host.
“
Give him the Gold Suite next to mine, Scawen. The south end of the house is less drafty.
”

Fenwick gave a mischievous smile.
“
Take care, Phoebe, or our little secret will be out.
”

She responded with a coy smirk. If any of her friends had made such a suggestive comment, she would have given him a sharp rebuke. As Fenwick was a wealthy marquess, the remark was not only tolerated but would be repeated to her friends, and especially her many enemies, when she returned to civilization.

“
Nigel tells me your visit has to do with old Pargeter
’
s death,
”
Fenwick said.
“
Made you his heir, has he? I made sure Soames would be his beneficiary.
”

It was like a spark to tinder. “What need has Harold Soames of money, I should like to know? He’s rich as Croesus. Pargeter did not leave myself or Nigel a single sou!” she announced, eyes flashing. “Within months of poor Lizzie’s death, he married his housekeeper under extremely odd circumstances and left her the lot—Wildercliffe, a fortune of at least fifty thousand, to say nothing of Lizzie’s jewelry. I should say the housekeeper
claims
Harold married her. No one has seen the marriage certificate. The local vicar did not marry them, for I asked him.
”