The Devil's Own Luck (Once a Spy) (16 page)

Happily, it wasn’t much longer before they reached massive iron gates bearing the name Fenton Abbey. A lad of about fifteen or so opened the gates, respectfully touching a forelock as they drove through. The wide gravel drive wound through a small copse of trees before reaching the expanse of rolling parkland and formal terraced gardens that led to the house. Like Reston, the manor was built during the reign of Queen Elizabeth and conformed to the popular E shaped design with three wings perpendicular to a long gallery that ran the width of the back of the house. Two low walls connected the three wings in front forming an enclosed courtyard on either side of the center wing. A circular drive curved around a large tiered fountain and colorful flower beds graced the front of the manor. Rectangular mullioned windows caught the sunlight. The stone structure had mellowed to a pale gold and outlined against the blue sky it was impressive. Unlike the land, it was clear that the estate had been well taken care of.
    “Good heavens,” Cecelia exclaimed as she peered out the window. “It’s larger than Reston.”
    By the time the traveling party, two coaches and the baggage coach, three drivers, six outriders, two grooms had pulled to a halt, the butler and a long line of servants were waiting on the front steps. A footman in royal blue and gold livery opened the coach door. Rand stepped down and as he helped Cecelia and the children to the ground, he admonished Rosie and David to be still and be quiet. And for once Rosie was silent, too awe-struck to do anything but stare wide-eyed at the grand house and its staff of servants. Cecelia took both children by the hand. She was accustomed to the luxurious life of an aristocratic family, but the thought that she was mistress of this grand mansion very nearly overwhelmed her. But this was not the time to let her scant eighteen years show. She was a marchioness. She was raised to be the mistress of a grand household. She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders and pulled herself to her full height.
    The butler was a tall, slender, very dignified looking man with gray at his temples. He bowed formally and said in appropriately respectful tones, “Welcome to your new home my lord and lady. My name is Winston and I am at your service.”
    Rosie opened her mouth to say something but Cecelia squeezed her hand and shook her head.
    “Thank you, Winston.” Rand nodded at the line of servants.
    “Mrs. Brice, the housekeeper,” Winston intoned. The short plump woman curtsied and the butler continued on until everyone down to the scullery maid had been introduced.
    Rand frowned slightly. “Where’s Whitley?”
    “The roof to one of the barns on the east side collapsed and Mr. Whitley deemed it necessary to see that the animals were safely moved to another shelter.”
    Rand nodded with approval. “And the man of affairs?”
    “Mr. Henley will arrive tomorrow afternoon, my lord. He is coming from your Cornwall estate.”
    “Good enough. We would like to settle in. It’s been a tedious journey.”
    Rand picked up Rosie and put his hand at the small of Cecelia’s back. “Come along m’dear,” he drawled in her ear. “It’s time to take a look at our new home.” They entered the massive double doors held open by two footmen. The entrance hall rose a full three stories with curving, mirror-image, mahogany staircases leading to a gallery on the second floor. The sun shot through high windows illuminating an enormous crystal chandelier directly overhead. Cecelia had to remind herself not to gawk.
    Rosie wriggled impatiently in his arms and Rand set her down. David pulled away from Cecelia and the two children took off toward the staircases.
    “Oh, blast. What was I thinking?” The marquis of Clarendon caught up with them in three long strides and grabbed them by their collars. “Where exactly do you think you're going?”
    “The banisters, Thomas,” Rosie explained. “There’s one for each of us.”
    “You are not permitted to slide down the banisters. It’s far too dangerous.” He brought them back to Cecelia. “Stand right here,” he ordered. “I will be back in a minute and if I find that you’ve moved so much as an inch you’re in more trouble than you know what to do with. This is a very large house and I will not have you running amuck.” At that he turned and strode outside.
    David’s face scrunched up and for a moment Cecelia wondered if he might cry. But then he pointed at the floor and said, “Chess!”
    At first Cecelia was confused, then she realized he was talking about the black and white marble squares that were prevalent in so many Elizabethan homes. But to a five and six year old who had seen nothing grander than a country house in Hampshire, it would very much resemble a chess board.
    Rosie had been staring at the floor and when she raised her head a look of delight had come over her. “I’m the queen! Davy, you will be a knight and you must do as I say.”
    He shook his head. “No. I wanna be a king.”
    Rosie was taken aback. She was not accustomed to David questioning her command.
    “It’s only fair,” Cecelia said as she tried very hard not to laugh at the expression of disbelief on Rosie’s face. “If you can be a queen, then David can be a king.”
    Rosie put her hands on her hips and scowled but they were saved from further argument when Rand came back inside followed by Ella, Bobby and one of the upstairs maids.
    “It’s time for you two to go upstairs to the nursery,” he announced. “They’ll bring you tea and you can help put away the toys you brought. And don’t touch anything on the way up.”
    “But we’re to play chess,” Rosie protested. “I’m to be the queen.”
    He waved his hand at the stairs. “You can play chess upstairs.”
    “We can’t play chess upstairs.” Her lower lip protruded and she crossed her arms.
    Rand’s eyes darkened.
    “The floor,” Cecelia said softly.
    He glanced down and frowned.
    “The black and white tiles,” she added.
    Comprehension dawned. “You may come down tomorrow to play,” he said in a no nonsense tone. “But for now, you go upstairs.”
    Neither child looked happy about their orders but did as they were told.
    “I’ll come up to see you this evening before dinner,” Cecelia called out after them. Laughing, she turned to Rand. “I believe we’ve just had a first. Rosie told David what to do and he said no. Had you not come in when you did there might have been a tussle.”
    “Mmm. I wonder who would have won. David’s a bit bigger but I can’t see Rosie backing down.” He glanced over her shoulder to see Mrs. Brice waiting patiently. “We should probably go upstairs, as well. You look as if you could use a nap,” he murmured in Cecelia’s ear. Then louder, “Mrs. Brice, would you show us to our chambers?”
    She curtsied. “Yes, milord. Please follow me.” Their chambers were located on the third floor and as they passed various salons, chambers and sitting rooms, Mrs. Brice cheerfully identified each one. But when she threw open the double doors to the sitting room that separated their bedchambers she let out a gasp of dismay. A thin, elderly woman with snow white hair drawn into a bun and pale blue eyes sat on a straight-backed chair. Her skirts were carefully arranged, her hands were folded were in her lap and she appeared not a whit disconcerted to have been discovered in someone else’s chambers.
    “Miss Mae,” Mrs. Brice scolded as she reached for the bell pull. “You mustn’t be here. These rooms are for Lord and Lady Clarendon.”
    Miss Mae smiled sweetly. “I was told the marquis had arrived.” Still smiling, she looked at Rand and Cecelia. “I didn’t realize he was bringing company. Are you friends of Teddy?”
    “I do apologize, milord,” the housekeeper broke in quickly. “Miss Mae sometimes gets a bit befuddled. This won’t happen again.”
    Rand waved his hand at her as if it were no matter then bowed to the elderly woman. “Miss Mae. My name is Thomas Danfield and this is my wife Cecelia. We are the new Lord and Lady Clarendon and are most pleased to make your acquaintance.”
    She shook her head. “Oh no, young man. I believe you must be confused. Teddy is Lord Clarendon. And I did want to see him. It’s been ages. Could you send for him?”
    “Miss Mae,” the housekeeper said gently. “Teddy--Theodore Brooks died over thirty years ago.”
    Miss Mae’s blue eyes widened in surprise. “But dear, he can’t be dead. If Teddy had passed on, someone would have told me by now. You must be confused.” She turned her attention back to Rand. “Young man, my eyes aren’t what they used to be but I must say that you’re very handsome.” She smiled serenely at Cecelia. “And you my gel. You’re quite the looker, as well. Though some men might find you too tall. I’m tall. Always liked being tall.” Her eyes traveled critically from the top of Cecelia’s head to her toes. “And you’ve excellent carriage. You can tell a lot about a person by their carriage.”
    Cecelia was both bewildered and amused. She simply said, “Yes, ma’am.”
    The pale blue eyes were suddenly shrewd. “Who are your people?”
    “My father is the Earl of Stratton. My mother’s father was the Viscount of Asbury.”
    “And you my boy?” She looked directly at Rand.
    He grinned boyishly at her. “I fear my family is in trade ma’am. Danfield Shipping & Enterprises. But Lady Cecelia was gracious enough to ignore that shortcoming and marry me anyway.”
    “Good. Good.” She nodded her head. “Very sensible of her if you ask me. Too much inbreeding comes from aristocracy marrying aristocracy. It causes idiocy, you know. They’ll all be idiots if they continue.”
    Rand made a strangled sound and Cecelia pressed her lips together very hard to keep from breaking into laughter.
    The housekeeper was ashen. It took a moment for her to find her voice. “Miss Mae, you mustn’t say such things. What will Lord and Lady Clarendon think?”
    Miss Mae rose slowly from her chair. As she’d claimed, she was quite tall and her carriage was amazingly erect for a woman of her age. “Well,” she said to the housekeeper. “I’m rather tired and should like to return to my chambers.”
    A relieved Mrs. Brice came forward to take her arm. “If you’ll just wait a moment, Miss Mae. Someone should be here any minute to take you back.”
    “Bah! I’m perfectly capable of finding my chambers on my own. I came without assistance. I can return without assistance.” She took a few steps toward the door to prove her point. “Good day, children.”
    Mrs. Brice dipped a quick curtsy. “If you will excuse me, milord, milady. She tends to wander. I must see that she’s returned to her companion.”
    Rand waved her on. Cecelia waited until the two women had left the room before turning to him. Her eyes were bright and she was laughing. “That was interesting. Who on earth is Miss Mae?”
    Grinning, he said, “I’d forgotten about her. Mansfield told me she was a distant relative. She’s lived here for some time.” He chuckled. “Outspoken old bird, isn’t she? I’m not certain she’s as befuddled as she appears to be.”
    “Well, I’m glad to know she approves of our marriage even though you're in trade,” she said. “And I thought she was great fun. I wonder if she comes down to dinner.”
    “I would imagine it’s discouraged.” Rand had wandered over to a curio cabinet and was gazing at the knick-knacks displayed inside. He turned around and said, “So. What do you think of our home?”
    “Based on what we’ve seen, I think it’s beautiful. Though it feels very odd to realize that this is my home but I don’t know where anything is or who our neighbors might be. After tea, I should like a tour.”
    A knock sounded at the door. Rand strode over and opened it and found Winston.
    “I came to see if there was anything you needed and to offer my apology, as well. We will take pains to see that Miss Mae doesn’t disturb you any further. Miss Halston, her companion, normally keeps a close eye on her but on occasion she manages to slip away.”
    “I would imagine that if Miss Mae takes a notion to do something, three companions couldn’t stop her," Rand said. "Lady Clarendon found her entertaining and was wondering if Miss Mae comes down to dinner.”
    For a fraction of a second the butler's eyes widened. “Oh no, my lord. She takes her meals in her quarters. It seems to work best that way. Your baggage is being brought up at present. Is there anything I can do for you?”
    “If you would bring a tea tray to the sitting room. And port.” He pulled out his fob watch and checked the time. “About five we should like a tour of the house. And supper at eight.”
    “Very good.”
    He closed the door and realized that Cecelia was no longer in the sitting room. “Cecelia? Where did you disappear to?”
    “I’m in here,” she called out.
    He went through the open door that led to one of the two bed chambers. Cecelia had tossed her hat on the floor, plopped herself down on the bed with arms flung out and legs dangling over the side. “This is your bed chamber. It’s rather somber, don’t you think? I peeked into my room first. It’s done with gold and green tulle and is ever so much nicer. But your bed looked more comfortable.”
    “Is it?”
    “Wonderfully so.”
    Rand glanced around the room. The furnishings were heavy and dark. The bed and window drapes, a deep blue velvet. There was an obvious lack of any kind of personal items and the overall effect was dreary. But the long limbed girl with the bright copper hair, tilted green eyes and shining face who looked up at him was brimming with life and energy. She was like a bright light in a dark sea and he was shocked to realize how much he cared for her. And how much he needed her. He leaned against the door frame and gazed at her a moment. “I beg to differ. No room with you in it can ever be somber.”
    A smile slowly crossed her face. “Thank you. That was a very sweet thing to say.”
    He returned her smile and shrugged. “It’s true.” He closed the door behind him and checked above the doorframe for a key. “Ah, good.” He locked the door and left the key in the lock. Then he went to the door that led to the dressing area and did the same.
    Laughing, she pushed herself up on her elbows. “What are you doing?”
    “Locking the doors.”
    “I see that. Why are you locking the doors?”
    “I don’t want the servants to walk in on us. They’ll be bringing up our baggage any minute now and Davis and Mattie will be in our dressing rooms putting things away. And I did ask Winston to bring a tea tray to the sitting room.” He came over and sat on the bed beside her and began bouncing up and down.
    “Now what are you doing?”