A Countess of Convenience (19 page)

Prudence fought down laughter. “Been mucking out the stables, brother dear?"

Neil slammed the other boot down. “Somebody has to do it. Even plow horses deserve clean stalls. That stable is a disgrace. Only one man works there fulltime and Snavely's as apt to send him elsewhere as not."

She grinned maliciously. “Oh, I think it's commendable that you're taking an interest in your new employment."

He took a deep breath as though preparing for a heated retort, but then his expression softened into a sneer. “No more so than you,
Countess
, up to your elbows in flour."

Looking down at her flour-dusted apron, Prudence chuckled. “Quite right, we're both a disgrace to our social positions."

"And it's your husband's fault,” Neil grumbled.

"I don't give him
all
the credit,” Prudence replied.

He shifted his eyes toward Hazel, warning Prudence not to share the family secrets with the servants. She knew that was just his excuse for avoiding any mention of the part he'd played in their downfall, but she let the subject drop. After all, Neil's hopes for the future had been dashed too.

Polly, the younger Bailey sister, rushed into the kitchen. “Visitors comin'!"

"What? Who could be visiting us?"

"Looks like Squire Culpepper's rig."

"Did you leave him standing at the door?” Prudence asked in alarm.

"No, ma'am. I saw ‘em coming down the road. Looks like Miss Effie's with ‘im."

Someone rapped the front door knocker so firmly that Prudence heard the sound quite clearly. “Go open the door and escort them into the parlor. Say we'll be down in a few minutes,” she said to the excited girl. Then she turned to Hazel. “Get the tea ready. Lord Weathersby and I will go up the back stairs and try to make ourselves presentable."

He grimaced. “Why do I have to go? You're the lady of the house."

She gestured at him impatiently. “Come along. For the time being, you're the man of the house, and these are our first callers."

Picking up his boots, he padded after her in his socking clad feet, grumbling about the imposition of having to clean up just to meet some country squire.

Halfway up the stairs, she turned on him. “Since you're going to be living in this area for at least the next five years, you'd better get acquainted with the locals or you'll be spending all your time with horses."

He stopped grumbling, but continued to look irritated.

Deciding not to waste any more time on him, she raced ahead, being quite out of breath when she reached her room. She removed her apron and mobcap, washed her hands and face, and smoothed her hair as best she could without taking it down and starting all over again. With a final look in the mirror and a sigh over her dowdy appearance, she left the room.

A ruddy-faced man, whose well-tailored suit did much to hide his portly figure, surged to his feet when Prudence entered the parlor. “I apologize for calling unannounced. Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm Squire Culpepper, and this is my daughter, Effie. We are your neighbors to the north."

Prudence extended her hand. “How do you do, Squire Culpepper. I'm Lady Prudence Malvern. Good of you to call."

He hesitated for a moment and then blurted out, “Talk is that you're the new countess."

Miss Culpepper gasped in apparent distress over her father's bluntness.

Prudence hoped her smile would reassure the apple-cheeked young woman as she moved to the chair next to her. “Yes, I am, but I can understand your surprise, for the earl and I haven't been married long."

The squire nodded and returned to his seat. “I thought as much. Is he with you?"

"No, he's attending to business in London,” she said and wondered where he actually was and what he was doing.

"Will he be joining you soon, Countess?"

"Ah—as soon as his duties allow."

The man nodded in a satisfied manner. “Good, I've been hoping for a chance to speak with him. Issues in the neighborhood need to be addressed."

Knowing she dare not volunteer her own services, Prudence said, “If there are problems that need immediate attention, I'm sure Mr. Snavely will send any necessary word to the earl."

The squire's mouth pursed as if he'd just tasted something unpleasant. “These are matters that only owners can understand. The former earl spent a good deal of time here and knew the needs of the estate. Evidently your husband plans to do that too, now that he's settled into marriage."

Neil's timely arrival saved her from having to reply. He strode into the parlor the very picture of a gentleman on a country holiday. She didn't know how he'd transformed himself so quickly but hoped his arrival would swing the conversation away from the earl.

As she introduced Neil, she noticed the awe-struck expression on Effie Culpepper's face. When he bowed over her hand, the girl's rosy cheeks became so red that Prudence feared she might swoon. Prudence had never noticed the effect her tall, slender half-brother had on women. She'd assumed the sudden fits of giggling the Bailey sisters tended to have in his presence stemmed from their lack of previous contact with persons from the outside world. Miss Culpepper, the daughter of a wealthy landowner, was surely more sophisticated, but she gazed up at him with mute adoration.

Obviously aware of his effect on the pretty young woman, Neil smiled charmingly and declared how happy he was to make her acquaintance.

The squire did not allow himself to be ignored, however. “You come up from London with your sister, Mr. Weathersby?"

Neil nodded and moved to sit on the sofa beside the man. “Couldn't allow Lady Malvern to travel unescorted, could I?"

The squire nodded firmly. “Indeed not. Good of you to step in while the earl was occupied with business affairs."

Prudence had no intention of letting Neil foist himself off as visiting gentry. “Actually, my brother is interested in learning about horse breeding. He's here to gain practical experience."

The squire's eyebrows shot up with interest. “You want to see some real horseflesh, come over to Pepper Hill. The stables at Aysbeck have gone down terribly since the old earl's time."

Neil began to ask questions about what kind of horses the squire had and the two men quickly lost themselves in the discussion.

Deciding this would be a good chance to ask a few questions of her own, Prudence turned to Effie. “Do you and your father live alone?"

"We do since my mother passed away and my older sister married.” Effie spoke in such a low voice that Prudence had trouble hearing her.

Her rosy cheeks, soft brown eyes, and glossy mahogany curls made Effie Culpepper an outstandingly pretty girl, so Prudence couldn't understand her shyness. Her looks and her father's obvious wealth surely made her a very sought after young woman.

Wanting to put her at ease, Prudence said, “It's kind of you and your father to welcome us to the neighborhood. I hope we will be friends."

Effie briefly made eye contact. “I hope so too, my lady."

"Perhaps we can start by using each other's first names. Please call me Prudence."

That brought Effie's head up. She stared wide-eyed, obviously shocked by the prospect of calling a countess by her first name.

Prudence felt a bit irritated. She couldn't be much older than Effie, and didn't like being treated like a matron.

The squire's voice intruded. “What about that, girl?"

Effie glanced over at her father. “Pardon?"

"I've just invited Weathersby over to tour our stables. Why not make an occasion of it and have him and the countess to dinner?"

The girl's face turned scarlet. “Oh—er—yes—that would be nice."

Hazel interrupted Effie's obvious discomfort by entering the room with their tea. She'd forgotten to use the teacart and overloaded the tray so that stacked cups and saucers rattled ominously as she hurried toward the table beside Prudence's chair. Prudence quickly pushed a porcelain shepherdess aside so the tray came to rest without an accident.

As Hazel hovered over the tray uncertainly, Prudence said, “I'll serve today, Hazel. Thank you."

The maid left the room, and the squire asked, “That's one of Amos Bailey's girls, ain't it?"

While placing cups into saucers, Prudence replied, “Yes, Hazel and Polly Bailey are both working for us."

"I'm sure Amos appreciates that. Man's got a cottage full of children, and there're never enough positions for the young in this area. That's why so many of them are leaving for the cities. Taking the very heart out of our community."

Passing a cup of tea to him, Prudence said, “Really? We very much need a cook here, but Mr. Snavely said none were available."

Effie made another one of her little breathless gasps. “Why, our cook's sister has been out of work ever so long."

Her father nodded. “That's a fact, and she worked for Lady Millbank, who, until that lady passed away, always set a fine table."

"I'll mention her to Mr. Snavely.” Prudence finished serving the tea.

After getting all the particulars about the potential cook, the talk turned back to the squire's invitation. At first he said they should come the next day. Then he decided to ask others who would be anxious to meet the countess and her brother.

Seeing the alarm in Effie's eyes, Prudence suggested the squire would need more time to invite others. He thought for a moment and then decided on Saturday, four days hence. Effie's color improved.

Showing he knew not to overstay his welcome, the squire finished his tea and announced they must be on their way. Everyone rose, and since there was no footman to show the guests to the door, Prudence started toward the hallway. Beside her, Effie lurched and a heavy wooden shoe thumped against the floor as she took a step. Now Prudence understood the girl's shyness and carefully kept a smile on her face and avoided looking directly at the limping woman.

Neil stood on the steps beside Prudence as the Culpeppers entered a damn fine brougham pulled by two perfectly matched grays. The squire must own a great deal of land or have interests other than agriculture. The kind of stables he'd talked of required deep pockets.

The liveried footman, who had assisted Effie and the squire into the carriage, closed the door and returned to his place beside the driver, giving Neil a clear view into the vehicle. Miss Culpepper was leaning forward so she could see around her father and look in Neil's direction. When their eyes met, he raised his hand and smiled. After timidly returning his smile, she drew back behind her father.

What a pretty little thing—as delicate as a porcelain doll. Too bad about the limp, but that was probably why she was still on the shelf.
If
she were still on the shelf. As the brougham started down the driveway, he cast his eyes heavenward and offered up a silent prayer.

Wouldn't it be incredible to find his heiress next door to Aysbeck? He'd have to ask some discrete questions about the Culpeppers. The servants could probably supply all the answers he needed.

"They seemed like nice people,” Prudence said.

Remembering that she had chatted with Miss Culpepper, he turned to her. “The old boy was deucedly proud of his horses. I'm looking forward to seeing them on Saturday. Is Miss Culpepper his only child?"

Folding her forearms across her chest to protect against a chilly breeze, Prudence turned toward the open front door. “There is a married daughter."

He followed her into the house. “But no brothers?"

She stopped and looked up at him with suspicion glittering in her eyes. “What are you thinking, Neil?"

He chuckled with the first genuine mirth he'd felt since his banishment to Yorkshire. “I'm thinking you were quite right in advising me to get acquainted with the locals."

Prudence was sitting behind the desk in the room that passed for a library when Polly brought Mr. Snavely to the doorway. His expression was more dour than usual. Prudence hoped he wasn't angry about being sent for, but Neil had refused to speak to Snavely about the cook, and she didn't think it proper to go the man's cottage alone. “Thank you for coming so promptly."

He nodded curtly. “What's this about?"

She gestured to a nearby chair and waited until he sat. “Squire Culpepper and his daughter called on us yesterday. When I mentioned our need of a cook they suggested a relative of the woman who cooks for them. They said she's well qualified and has been looking for work for some time. Perhaps you've heard of her? Her name is—"

He jerked his head impatiently. “I know the woman, but don't see why you need her. You've got the two Bailey girls. One old woman does my cooking and cleaning and has time to spare."

Anger flashed through Prudence. She hadn't taken her elevation to countess too seriously, but this hireling was definitely speaking disrespectfully to her, and she didn't intend to stand for it. “How big is your cottage, Mr. Snavely? Aysbeck Manor has twenty rooms and has been allowed to go unattended for years. Why, half the linens have mold on them. We are having to wash everything. Those two girls can't possibly handle all this work and cook too. Besides, they aren't trained cooks. I can't invite guests in without serving proper meals."

Mr. Snavely showed no signs of being intimidated by her outburst. “Just where are the funds supposed to come from for all this frippery? I can't dip into your husband's profits to pay for them."

"Oh!” Prudence hadn't thought about that. “Well, I have an allowance. The cook's salary can come from that."

His expression brightened somewhat. “That's fine; you turn the money over to me and I'll hire as many servants as you like. Of course, you'll need to reserve enough money for food and other household supplies."

Prudence had thought her allowance of two hundred pounds a quarter quite generous before she knew she'd be expected to pay all the expenses of the household. Now she wondered if she'd have enough to run things decently. She definitely didn't want Mr. Snavely to know her limited financial circumstances. “I'll need to interview the people before I hire them, so I might as well handle the entire matter."

He shook his head. “Best if I take care of it. I know what local salaries are and how to set up proper budgets. I'm sure I can save you money."