Tuesday's Child (Heroines Born on Each Day of the Week Book 3) (19 page)

When Plymouth entered the bedchamber, Harriet sat, and plumped up the pillows behind her back.

The abigail, put a tray set with a chocolate pot and a cup on a table by the bed.

“Thank you, Plymouth. Please ask Nurse to bring Lord Castleton here, and fetch another cup..”

Approximately, ten minutes later, the woman returned, and put a cup on the tray.

“Where is Lord Castleton?”

“Nurse refused to allow him to leave the nursery.” Plymouth’s sniff expressed her displeasure. “The earl’s instructions do not include allowing Lord Castleton to visit you before breakfast.”

“Plymouth,” Harriet spoke in a soft tone of voice. which anyone closely acquainted with her would have known preceded a storm, “remind Nurse I am his lordship’s mother. Tell her I shall dismiss her if she does not obey me.”

“Very good, my lady.”

Did she imagine a triumphant gleam in Plymouth’s hazel eyes?

Fifteen minutes passed before Arthur arrived, dressed in his nightgown.

Her face sullen, Nurse bobbed a curtsey.

“Mamma,” Arthur shrieked.

Nurse shook her head. “No need for so much noise, my lord. Remember you are a young gentleman.”

Arthur ignored her and ran towards her. “Mamma, thank you for sending for me.

Harriet patted the silk bedcover. Arthur clambered up onto the bed and settled next to her against the pillows.

Nurse pursed her lips.

“Harriet informed the nurse. “Lord Castleton will have his breakfast here with me. Plymouth will return him to the nursery in time for him to change for his morning ride with his grandfather.”

The tall, thin woman bobbed a curtsy. Sour faced, she turned around, and then marched out of the bedchamber.

Arthur put his arms around Harriet’s neck and kissed her cheek. “I don’t like Nurse. I want Bessie to come back? I am very, very sorry for getting her into trouble.”

She smoothed her son’s hair back from his forehead. After his next haircut she would save a curl and put it in a locket. She would value the keepsake more than the earl’s family jewels, which, one day, if it pleased God, would be handed on to Arthur’s wife.

Harriet glanced at Plymouth. “Please give the order for breakfast to be served. I shall have toast. Lord Castleton would enjoy ham and eggs and buttered bread.” She gestured to the tray. “Is the chocolate still hot?”

Plymouth touched the silver pot. “Yes, my lady.”

“Good, you may refill my cup and pour some for my son.”

“Careful, don’t spill it on my bed,” Harriet warned Arthur, when Plymouth handed him his drink..

Arthur sipped. A rim of chocolate around his upper lip. he smiled at her. “This is much better than water.”

“Water!”

He heaved a sigh. “Yes, every morning, when I wake up, Nurse forces me to drink two glasses of cold water.” He wrinkled his nose. “She says it is good for my health.”

She would put a stop to that.

Arthur finished his drink. “Bessie used to give me warm milk with honey when I woke.” He nestled beside her his head on her shoulder.

Harriet looked across the room at her abigail. “Plymouth, after you serve breakfast, please lay out my riding habit in the dressing room. Also, send a message to the earl to let him know I shall ride with my son after breakfast. His lordship may join us if he wishes.”

After Plymouth withdrew from the bedroom, Arthur spoke. “Thank you, thank you, Mamma. We never ride together.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Arthur, you don’t remember either riding in front of me before your grandfather died or riding with him.”

“Yes, I do. You rode a grey horse and grandfather rode a chestnut one.” He sighed. “I can’t remember what he looked like.” He wiped the tears from her eyes with chubby hands. “Don’t cry, Mamma.”

She slipped an arm around her son’s shoulders and held him close. “One day, I’ll tell you more than you already know about your father and grandfather. For now, you only need to know is they were gallant soldiers, who would have loved you.”

While she stroked Arthur’s hair, he put his head on her shoulder.

“Today, we shall see if Bessie is at home. If she is, you may ask her to return to the abbey to take care of you.”

“Thank you, Mamma. Do you think she will agree?”

Harriet smiled. In her opinion Arthur expressed himself exceptionally well for a four year old. She frowned. Without siblings to share the nursery he needed to play with other children.

Harriet did not want her son to be lonely. She must find out which families in the area had sons of a suitable age to play with Arthur, and invite them to visit him.

She kissed the top of Arthur’s head. If she had not been famished and feverish when Pennington took her in, she would not have been so submissive. While she recovered her health, her father-in-law gained more and more authority over Arthur. Now, whatever the cost she must regain it.

Even if she did not mistrust the earl, she would want to be independent.

She drew an imaginary battle line. If the earl agreed to compromises, she would not declare war, and would remain at Clarencieux with Arthur. If not, hostilities would commence and sooner or later she would leave the abbey.

Chapter Fifteen

“Arthur, we have arrived at the Cooper’s cottage. If you want Bessie to return to Clarencieux, please remember to behave like a little gentleman.” Harriet looked back over her shoulder at the groom, who  accompanied them. “Peter, please knock on the door.”

Even if he were surprised by her visit to a cottage not within her father-in-law’s jurisdiction, the groom’s face remained impassive.

Peter dismounted and, after he secured the reins of his horse to a fence post, he walked to the front door along a path bordered by a mixture of bright flowers, fern-like carrot tops, bright green curly parsley, fat cabbages, rosemary, thyme and sage.

Harriet’s spirited grey, which the earl had allowed her to ride, when he was certain she was an accomplished horsewoman, side-stepped. Arthur’s sleek pony tried to lower his head to nibble grass growing along the edge of the fence.

The front door opened. Mrs Cooper, wiping her hands free of flour on her linen apron, bustled outside, hurried towards them. “My lady, Lord Castleton.”

Harriet smiled at her. “Good day. I apologise for interrupting you when you are obviously busy.”

Mrs Cooper bobbed a curtsey. “Not too busy to attend you, my lady. I was only kneading bread dough.”

“I shall not detain you for long. My son has something he wishes to say to your daughter.”

Mrs Cooper hesitated while she looked from Harriet to Arthur. “I’ll fetch her.”

Harriet turned her attention to the groom. “Please help Lord Castleton to dismount.”

His feet on the ground, Arthur glanced up at her. She nodded to reassure him and watched him put one foot on the cinder path.

Bessie, rosy-cheeked, a frilled mob cap on her head, stepped out of the cottage.

Arthur ran to her, and pressed his face against her. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry for getting you into trouble,” he said, his voice muffled by her cotton apron. “Nurse, please come back to the abbey to look after me.”

For a moment, Bessie’s hand lingered on his head, then she gently disengaged herself. She looked down the well-trodden path towards the lane and bobbed a curtsey. “My lady.”

Harriet beckoned to her. “Nurse, if you have not found another position, I would welcome you back at Clarencieux.” She took a deep breath, and childishly crossed the fingers of one hand behind her back. “So would the earl, who deeply regrets the injustice you suffered,” she told the young woman, although she doubted the earl’s conscience troubled him. To the contrary, more than likely he had found a reason to justify his actions.

“Please, Nurse” Arthur implored.

Bessie turned around to face her mother, who stood near the door.

Mrs Cooper shrugged. “It’s for you to decide.”

Harriet hoped the nurse would agree. “If you return, Bessie, you will take your orders from me. If anyone countermands them, you have my permission to ignore them.”

The nurse gazed down at the hard-packed path beneath her sturdy shoes.

“Please come back.” Tears rolled down Arthur’s cheeks. “My new nurse is not… not nice. I miss you, and know it was horrid of me to complain because you took my silver cup away. I am truly sorry,” he repeated. “If you come back, I won’t be rude to you.”

Bessie swooped down to put her arms around him. “There, there my little love, don’t fret yourself.”

Harriet winced. Her father-in-law would be appalled by the term of endearment and Bessie’s kind-hearted action. He would consider her unsuitable to be his heir’s nurse.

“Bessie, if you agree to care for Arthur, I shall expect him to be well-behaved.” She turned to her son. “You are too old to scream and throw tantrums if you may not have whatever you ask for. Do you understand?”

Arthur wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Yes, Mamma.”

She must not allow the nurse to think she could spank Arthur. “We know children are mischievous by nature, so I am not in favour of harsh punishments.”

Bessie bobbed a curtsey. “Neither am I, my lady. Why, no matter how naughty he’s been, I’ve never shouted at Lord Castleton or raised my hand to punish him.”

“Good. We understand each other. So, what have you decided?”

“To return, my lady.”

“To take care of me?” Arthur asked.

Bessie nodded. “Yes, if you are be good.”

He danced up and down with excitement. “I will be.”

“I am pleased, Bessie,” Harriet smiled at her. “Present yourself to me  in Arthur’s nursery at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

‘And now,’ thought Harriet, while she and her delighted son rode back to Clarencieux, ‘to confront the earl at nuncheon, before I conduct the next dance lesson at the rectory.’

* * *

Pennington’s plucked eyebrows drew together. “Lady Castleton, it is not for you to dismiss any member of my staff.”

Harriet sought for the means to tactfully propitiate her outraged father-in-law. “Well, Papa, I know you don’t allow Arthur to be disciplined by a nurse. I am sorry to say I did not trust Bessie’s replacement to obey you. I also know Arthur does not like the woman. You want him to be happy, and to have his every whim satisfied, so I thought it best to be rid of her. Fortunately, Bessie Cooper has agreed to return in spite of the former contretemps, or should I say misunderstanding?”

“Has she?” Pennington’s eyes flickered.

“Yes. Arthur is delighted. Should you refuse to re-employ Bessie, he would be upset and cross with you.”

Pennington scowled. “It seems I have no choice other than to agree. I shall instruct Vaughan to pay whatever is due to the nurse you dismissed without my permission.”

Harriet ignored the earl’s ill humour. “How good of you. Thank you, Papa. I shall write a reference for her. It would be cruel to deny her one without which I doubt she would find another position.” Harriet poured more coffee and put the cup at the right of her father-in-law’s plate.

She finished her lamb sandwich, and drank her coffee, while trying to choose what to wear in the afternoon. The new primrose yellow cambric afternoon gown worn over a white satin slip and bound with a daffodil-yellow ribbon beneath the high waist? Yes, it would do well. She would wear it with her spencer the colour of the first hazel leaves in the spring.

* * *

Gwenifer stood when the maidservant ushered Harriet into the drawing room, from which most of the furniture had been removed. “Good day, Harriet. How pretty you look.”

“Thank you.” Harriet dipped into a curtsy, which Gwenifer returned.

“Please sit yourself down, Harriet. Ah, here is my brother.

“Dominic, I complimented her ladyship on her appearance. I am sure you agree she looks charming, quite charming.”

Despite her embarrassment over the unsought praise, Harriet allowed herself to peep at the rector.

Dominic bowed. “Indeed, Lady Castleton, my sister is right. Your portrait should be painted in this ensemble. You are the personification of spring.”

“Please don’t put me to the blush with your flattery, sir,” Harriet reproved him, inwardly pleased. She looked at the spaces on the wall. Apart from the areas where paintings once hung, the salmon pink wallpaper had faded.

“My apologies for the lack of furniture,” Gwenifer said. “We intended to refurbish my brother’s study first, but after rolling back the carpet for our dance lessons, we decided this room should be the first to be repapered and painted. Today, I hope you will have time to tell me what you think of my choices for it. My brother is not sure whether or not he likes my suggestion of pier glasses and alabaster ornaments.”

The rector chuckled. “Your eyes, my dear sister, are as brimful of mischief as one of the Cornish pixies in stories Mamma told us when we were children.”