Always Come Home (Emerson 1) (4 page)

“Not ‘Miss,’ just Maude. And please, sit down again.
You can’t very well eat standing up.” She placed the two plates on the table.

“You brought two dinners?”

“One for you and one for me,” she said, as she took
the seat opposite him. “You’re going to want to tuck in. Mr. Ferguson will
call an end to the meal soon and any food that’s left will be given to the
dogs.”

Stemple watched the girl gather her cutlery.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” she asked.

He sat.

“Your Lord Ridgeway seems to be an interesting man,”
said Maude. “He came upon my friend Miss Conway earlier and they had a nice
chat. Not that we gossiped about your master at all. Is it true you came on
the mail coach? That’s what Lord Clayton was telling his cronies.”

“Miss Maude…”

“Not Miss Maude. Just Maude.”

“Maude. You do not have to eat with me. I would
not wish to spoil your dinner.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you listened to
that nonsense. I’ve never worked with bigger fools in my life than in this
house. You mustn’t mind them. Unless you’re telling me I should go because
you don’t want to eat with me.”

Stemple could hardly comprehend this conversation.
Unless….was this some sort of jest?

“Well?” she asked. “Do you not want to eat with
me?”

“Of course not. That’s ridiculous.”

“Then like I said. Eat up or the dogs will get it.”

They ate in silence for a moment, Stemple still
unsure of what was going on. But now she was staring at him. And the more he
tried to hide the right side of his face, the more she craned her neck to look
at it.

“What do you put on that?” she asked.

Ah, that was it. The morbid curiosity. Well, at
least she was polite about it. “I often wrap a scarf about my face, though it’s
more difficult in the summer.”

“I don’t mean that, you daft soul. I meant, what
kind of salve do you put on it?”

He shook his head. “I don’t put any salve on it.”

“Then it must hurt terribly. And I imagine it
cracks in winter, does it not?”

Stemple spoke to very few people about his injuries,
but he nodded.

“What you need is some salve with lavender oil. It
worked for my sister. She was badly burned from scalding oil when she was just
a tiny lass. But we had a good healer in our village who immediately began
applying salve. It helped with the pain, but it also kept the skin moist.
Even after the burn turned into scars, we’d put it on her three times a day.
She still does it. I think it could help you.”

“The surgeon gave me some salve in the hospital, but
it has been several years since then. Is it not too late to start now?”

“I don’t rightly know. But it couldn’t hurt to
try.”

And it certainly helped to know someone cared. “Can
you write down a list of the ingredients? I’ll see if I can make this salve
once we get to his lordship’s estate.”

She blushed. “I can’t…I can’t write. Ava – Miss
Conway – is teaching me. But I could tell her and she could write it down for
you.”

“I am sorry. I did not mean to embarrass you.”

She smiled. “Pay it no mind. And I can make you
some before you leave. For your trip.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

They heard the housekeeper calling for Maude.

“I have to go clean up. Better eat quickly or…”

“The dogs will get it. Yes.”

Maude got up to leave, then turned to him. “What’s
your name?”

“Victor Stemple.”

“It was nice meeting you, Victor. I’ll get you that
list and the salve as soon as I can.”

Then she was gone. And Victor was embarrassed to
wipe a tear from his eye. For while he’d long ago grown used to cruelty, he
had been wholly unprepared for such kindness.

Colin waited as long as he’d dared before going
downstairs to dinner. And it still had not been long enough. For as soon as
he arrived, Clayton, who was standing next to Nigel Hemsworth – who was a shade
under five feet four inches tall – called everyone back into his study for
another round of drinks.

“Ridgeway, you remember our old friends, don’t you?”
asked Clayton.

Their “old friends” consisted of a dozen of the
meanest boys ever to attend Eton. If there had been one advantage to having a
father who routinely beat his children, it was that Colin had learned from an
early age how to defend himself. His father had liked it when his sons tried
to fight back, though it had been mostly useless against his much greater size
and strength. But after fighting his father, the bullies at Eton had been no
match for him. Clayton and the others had even asked him to join their gang.
But Colin had known too much violence in his young life and certainly had no
desire to inflict it on anyone else. So, instead, he made a point of defending
other boys from Clayton’s gang.

By the time they’d reached Oxford, Colin had found
his own friends, including Edward Kellington, the brother of the Duke of
Lynwood, who was two years ahead of them in school.

Even when he’d spent much of the past few years
living at house parties, he’d avoided Clayton and his cronies whenever possible.
They were now older but by no means grown up. However, now he could not escape
their company, at least for the evening.

“Ridgeway, is it true you were on the mail coach?”
asked the height-challenged Hemsworth. “When Clayton told us, we could hardly
believe it. Are things that bad?”

“Certainly not. Riding the mail coach brings back
memories of being punished at Eton. I figure a certain amount of torture is
good for the soul. May I?” he asked Clayton, even as he poured himself a
drink.

“How did we ever get through Eton?” asked Ian
Maplewhite, the third son of the Marquess of Bromley. “It gives me nightmares
even now to think of what the headmaster would do when he was displeased. My
eldest brother will send his son off next year. I almost feel sorry for the
little bastard.”

“Nonsense,” said Clayton. “It’ll make a man out of
him. And if he makes the right friends, he won’t have to worry about punishment,
even from the headmaster. These days, a well-placed bribe does wonders.
Though in poor Ridgeway’s case, a bribe would be out of the question. Not that
he’ll have the chance to send his sons to Eton unless he snags the heiress he’s
so desperate to catch. If not, mayhap he can have the vicar teach them. How
goes the matrimonial hunt, old boy? I can only assume not well, given the mail
coach.”

“I have not yet found the right lady,” admitted
Ridgeway. “I will begin again in the new year.”

“And how impressive it will be as you arrive in
London on the back of a farmer’s cart,” said Hemsworth, who then laughed at his
own jest, after looking to Clayton for approval.

“Yes, well, at least I shall be able to see over the
sides of it,” said Ridgeway. His comment drew genuine laughs from everyone
except Hemsworth. “Clayton, shouldn’t we go in to dinner soon?”

“Don’t tell me you’re so poor you can’t afford to
eat,” said Clayton. “I had planned to linger over drinks, but I wouldn’t want
you to swoon from hunger. And if you want to take some food back to your room
for your journey tomorrow, pray be my guest. I’m sure we won’t laugh about it
above a day or two. Just how are you getting to your estate, Ridgeway?”

“I wanted to speak with you about that…”

But before he could continue, the doors opened and
Clayton’s twin sisters entered the room. At least, Ridgeway assumed that’s who
they were, though neither of them looked to be sixteen. Miss Conway had the
right of it; neither dressed as a young girl should. They wore gowns that
showed altogether too much décolletage. He couldn’t imagine what Clayton was
about to allow it.

Especially since the girls had the leering attention
of every other man in the room.

One of the girls tapped Clayton on the shoulder with
her fan. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your newest guest, brother?”

Clayton smirked. “It would be my pleasure. Lady
Angelique, may I present Colin Emerson, Earl Ridgeway. Colin, this is the
older of the twins.”

“By only a quarter hour,” she said with a simper, as
she held out her hand to him. “But that does make me more experienced than my
sister. An admirable trait, is it not?”

Colin took her fingers in his and was startled by
the vise-like grip with which she latched onto him. “I am charmed, my lady.”
He tried to pull his hand back, but it was as if his fingers were in the jaw of
a particularly stubborn dog.

Clayton introduced his other sister, who was looking
at Colin with some distaste. At least he wouldn’t have to fight off both girls
because it seemed Miss Conway once again had the right of it. Only Lady
Angelique appeared to be on the hunt for a title.

Colin cleared his throat to divert attention from yanking
his hand away from Angelique. “Clayton, you said dinner would be served at
some point before Christmas?”

“That’s right. I forgot about your empty stomach. Angelique,
don’t get your heart set on Ridgeway too quickly. He’s poorer than a church
mouse.”

“Yet he still has much to recommend him, I am sure,”
said the girl as she raked Colin with her eyes.

Colin thought longingly of the mail coach.

As they finally went into dinner, Lady Angelique
attached herself firmly to his arm. She also brushed the side of her bosom
against him and it was all he could do to keep from shivering in revulsion.
She was sixteen years old. And Clayton’s sister.

He dutifully held her chair for her, then made his
escape three spots down the table. He could almost feel her temper rise. He
hoped he would not be the cause of yet another servant being struck by a
hairbrush later that evening.

“Where’s that governess?” asked Viscount
Raffington.

Clayton looked around. “Yes, Ferguson, where is
Miss Conway?”

“She asked for a plate to be sent to her room,” said
the butler.

“Well, we can’t have that. Go collect her. Dinner
shall not be the same without her.”

“If your governess wishes to eat in her room,
Clayton, perhaps you should allow her to do just that,” said Colin.

“But she’s ever so entertaining and I must think of
my guests.” Clayton waved Ferguson off to retrieve her.

“Wait ‘til you hear her beliefs,” said Raffington.
“She’s quite the bluestocking with a wardrobe to match. ‘Tis a pity, since she
might have a tasty little body beneath those drab clothes.”

“Clayton!” said Colin. “Are you going to allow your
governess to be publicly maligned?” As an afterthought he felt compelled to
add, “Not to mention that Miss Conway’s form is in no way a suitable topic to
discuss in front of your sisters.”

“But we quite agree with the viscount,” said Lady
Anastasia. “She’s simply dreadful. You should hear some of the things Conway
says to us. She’s always trying to get us to learn sums and read books about
history.”

“What about when she natters on about science?”
asked Lady Angelique. “She once tricked me into listening to a story about Sir
Isaac Newton. I only did so because I thought I might meet him at a ball in
London, even if he was only a Sir and not even a baron. But it turns out the
man is dead. And has been dead for quite some time!”

“And the way she dresses!” said Lady Anastasia.
“It’s like something a charwoman would be buried in. And here she is now.”

A decidedly unenthusiastic Miss Conway entered the
dining room. Colin was the first to rise to his feet and he had the strongest
desire to have her sit next to him. Unfortunately, she took a seat at the end
furthest from Clayton.

He mentally applauded her good sense.

“Miss Conway,” said their host. “How good of you to
join us.”

“I do not believe I had much choice in the matter,
my lord.”

“Yet it is still nice to see you. You have not yet met
the newest arrival to the party, Colin Emerson, Lord Ridgeway. He came by way
of the mail coach.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord,” said Miss
Conway.

Colin understood why she did not admit to their
earlier meeting since it would have been deuced hard to explain what she’d been
doing in the portrait gallery. “The honor is all mine, Miss Conway. I
understand you are the governess here, are you not?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I am sure it is quite interesting. Do you teach
geography, Miss Conway?”

“I have made attempts.”

“We studied quite a bit of it in school. Our host
was particularly adept at it. Refresh my memory, Clayton. Where would I find
the Andes Mountains, again?”

Unfortunately, Miss Clayton had chosen that moment
to take a sip of wine. She was now choking on it. A footman stepped forward
to pound on her back.

“Steady on, girl,” said Hemsworth.

“Really, Miss Conway,” admonished Lady Anastasia.
“Choking is most unappetizing for the rest of us.”

“My apologies,” said Miss Conway, as she darted a
quick glance and a smile at Colin.

He could not prevent his answering grin.

Clayton cleared his throat. “Ridgeway, you never
did answer my question on how you planned to travel to your estate.”

“But Lord Ridgeway is not leaving, is he?” asked
Angelique. “He has only just arrived.”

“I am expected home for Christmas and I look forward
to seeing my sisters.”

“How fascinating,” said Angelique. “Do you also
have brothers?”

There was some muted laughter at the question. That
was typical when the subject arose. “My younger brother James is in America.”

“Why would anyone want to go there?” asked
Anastasia.

“He wanted to make his own way in the world.”

“Have you any other brothers?” asked Angelique.
“Why does everyone keep laughing at that question?”

“Alas, dear sister, the answer is not one for young
ears,” said Clayton. “But, yes, Ridgeway does have another brother, though it
has never been formally acknowledged. However, they are so similar in looks
they could be twins.”

“I should like to see America one day,” said Miss
Conway, trying valiantly to change the subject. “What does Lord James write of
it in his letters?”

“Unfortunately, he hasn’t written many of them. He
has lived on the American frontier where mail service is irregular at best.
But I wish he would come home and tell us in person.”

“Do you think he has seen a Red Indian?” asked
Angelique. “I would certainly hate to come upon such a savage, especially
since they are only half dressed.”

“How do you know of such a thing?” asked a bemused
Clayton.

“I read a rather scandalous novel about it.”

“Miss Conway,” said Colin. “Was that part of your
lesson plan?”

“I hardly think I would sanction any book that
describes American tribesmen as Red Indians or savages. I am, however,
pleasantly surprised to learn Lady Angelique has read anything at all.”

Angelique bristled. “I shan’t make a habit of it,
if that’s what you’re thinking. But at least it was interesting, as opposed to
what you try to force upon us.”

The rest of the meal proceeded thusly, with Clayton
bringing up Colin’s money problems at every opportunity and the girls taking
turns showing who could be the most outrageous and, sadly, moronic. Colin felt
it would be easier to attribute their deplorable behavior to the follies of
youth if they didn’t take quite so much delight in tormenting Miss Conway.

For her part, Miss Conway shrugged off the insults
with admirable aplomb. What was distressing, however, were the looks and
comments directed her way by Clayton’s other guests. They were getting more
foxed by the moment and their comments more and more suggestive. There was no
doubt that they were looking for some sign of interest from the lady.

A sign they most definitely were not getting.

When it was finally time for the gentlemen to
indulge in their port, Miss Conway excused herself, taking the entire quotient
of the table’s good sense and witty conversation with her.

Then Clayton’s sisters reluctantly took themselves
off, but not before some rather pointed hints from their brother.

“Ridgeway, you still have not told me how you plan
to travel to Wiltshire,” said Clayton. “Do be sure to take your man with you.
I hear he frightened the maids with that face of his.”

Colin bristled. “Stemple earned his scars on the
battlefield. The maids are lucky to be in the presence of the man.”

“Such patriotic fervor. I’d forgotten you ran off
and fought in the Peninsular Wars. Thought you’d show your father a thing or
two by getting yourself killed. I’m so sorry your survival got in the way of
your revenge. Forget I said a thing about your valet.”