Read Lady Harriet's Unusual Reward Online
Authors: Em Taylor
Lady Harriet's Unusual Reward
Contents
To Colin, my brother who I was always made to take to the football and to see rubbish movies. I hope you appreciated it. In some ways you were the inspiration for William and in some ways you weren’t. Your kind nature and the big bear hugs are how I see William in you along with the fact you both always get into scrapes. His scrapes are just worse than yours.
To the Tricia and Alison at the castle. You girls always make me feel welcome even when you’re about to close.
To Kirsty N, who kept in touch.
And to Maddie for your encouragement and fabby proofreading skills
August 1821
Harriet scowled at the page she was reading. Really it was too much. This heroine was a complete ninny. Who would wander downstairs in just a nightrail in the middle of the night, calling out to alert a possible murderer that she was onto him? Not only that but why had she not taken a tinderbox to relight her candle when it had gone out? Or better still why not light the candles in the hallway? The foolish woman deserved to be murdered. Harriet just hoped the person downstairs was the devilishly handsome, but much misunderstood, Duke of Almondvale and not the murderous coalman. At least being forced to marry a duke would be better than the alternative.
A scream made Harriet jump and she lifted her head, blinking at the bright sunshine of the summer day. She’d heard a splash too—from the direction of the pond. If she recalled rightly, the pond in this area of the grounds was deep. If the person who had fallen in could not swim, they would likely be in trouble.
Harriet threw down the book, looking around but could see no one else. Not one other person from the large house party to celebrate Lady Hawthorne’s sixtieth birthday party was anywhere in sight. That was a little odd. But it was rather warm and Harriet probably should not have been out in the midday sun herself.
She ran over to the pool and there, thrashing about in the middle, was a little girl. She thought she may be Lord Stephen’s daughter, but she could not be certain.
The child was quite a distance away. Too far to just lean out, grab her hand and pull her back to safety. Harriet kicked off her shoes, discarded her bonnet, and dived in. She began to kick her legs and push her arms through the water. It was difficult swimming in petticoats and a gown and they tangled around her legs, hampering her movements. Luckily the child was not far away and was managing to stay afloat. But the little creature was panicking and Harriet could see the fear in her big blue eyes.
After what seemed like an eternity Harriet was near enough to scoop the girl into her arms, flip onto her back and start swimming back towards the edge of the pool.
The girl was gasping, trying to speak. Harriet felt she should try to calm the child but she was struggling to breathe herself as she worked to get them back to safety. Every leg stroke was a kick to free her leg from her skirts as well as a kick against the water. The touch of the stone edge of the pond against the crown of her head told her they had made it. She dropped her legs and hoisted the child but it was no good. She was so tired.
“Hold on,” she instructed. She gripped the pond’s edge and tried to pull herself out. She seemed to weigh more than her horse. Possibly more than a coach and six. She dropped back into the water, defeated, and looked at the child. “What is your name?”
“Phoebe. Phoebe Charville.”
“You’re Lord Stephen Charville’s daughter?” She had been correct.
“Y-yes.” Her teeth were chattering.
“How old are you?”
“I’m four years o-old.”
“Well that makes you a big girl and old enough to shout for help. You and I shall need to shout as loud as we can. So when I count to three we need to shout ‘help.’ Do you understand?”
Phoebe nodded.
“One, two, three.”
****
Stephen had been searching for Phoebe for just a few minutes when an unholy racket started. It sounded like cats having their tails stood upon. Sounds that sent a knot of dread into his stomach. One of those cats was his daughter. He knew it and she was crying for his help.
God’s teeth. She was in trouble.
He started running towards the sound heedless of any peril that may be ahead of him. Phoebe was in danger. He would not lose his baby. He’d already lost Sarah and he could not lose their daughter.
The noise was closer. He was drawing closer to the pond. A pair of women’s slippers lay abandoned ahead of him in the grass. He stood on something. He glanced back to see what it was. A book.
When he got to the edge he looked down into the hole.
To the right side he saw two pairs of hands gripping the edge of the pond, and two wet, flushed faces still yelling for help. They had not noticed him.
“I’m here.”
“Papa!”
Stephen moved along the pond and scooped his daughter out of the water. Then he reached down and pulled the young woman out too. She was heavy due to the amount of water her gown held. His gaze raked over the pair of them, assessing them for injuries. Phoebe seemed fine as she wrapped her arms around his waist and burrowed into him for warmth. The young woman seemed none the worse for wear either. Her lemon day dress hung off her, leaving little to the imagination. Only her stays preserved her modesty somewhat. He pulled off his coat and wrapped it around the woman and lifted Phoebe.
“Come let us get you back to the house. What happened?”
“I fell into the pond and this lady dived in, swam out and rescued me.” Phoebe’s teeth were chattering and she snuggled into his warmth. God help him, he’d nearly lost her.
“We need to get you both warmed up. I’ll order hot baths and hot bricks for your beds. Maybe a tonic or something.” The woman laughed as she wrung water from her copper hair. It looked dark now but he knew it would be much redder when dry. He now remembered who she was. Lady Harriet Weatherby. The daughter of the Earl of Oldbeck.
“I think Phoebe is more frightened than cold. It’s a beautiful day. Plenty of people go swimming on such days. I’m sure as a boy you did. She will be fine. As will I. I am just a little shaken and tired as swimming in a gown is hard work.”
“Her teeth are chattering, Lady Harriet and you are soaked through.”
“And my hair will dry and my skin will dry and my clothes will be changed in a matter of minutes. Please do not worry on my account.”
He nodded but steered her away from the main entrance to the manor. She gave him a curious glance.
“Your gown and petticoats are rather transparent, my lady. I think it best that you are seen by as few guests as possible.” Gentlemanly honour dictated that he spare her the embarrassment of walking through a country manor in such a state but he also wanted to be the only man who had seen her like this. It was quite a delectable sight. And he felt like a cad that he was taking pleasure in the vision. But devil take it. He could not help that he was a man first and a gentleman second.
“Papa, Lady Harriet is correct. I am fine now.”
“You are?”
“Yes.”
“Well, let us see how you are once you are dried off in the nursery.” The three made their way to Lady Harriet’s room, then Phoebe and Stephen headed for the nursery where Stephen fussed and coddled until Nanny sent him away with warnings of dire consequences if he returned for the rest of the day.
Thus, Stephen was shocked when he arrived in the drawing room before dinner to find Lady Harriet already there, dressed in a light blue silk gown, looking well, a smile on her face, her dark auburn tresses piled high in an intricate coif and her cheeks a little too red from her time in the sun this afternoon.
He approached her and she turned a beatific smile on him. His insides did a rather pleasant little leap. Not since Sarah had been alive had a woman had this effect on him. His gaze dropped to her décolletage. Understated but enough of a hint of the pleasures that were to come should a man wish to sample. The very top of the line of her cleavage showed… just enough to tempt but not enough to make the ladies of the
ton
cast aspersions on her moral character. His blood heated at the thought of the temptations.
“Lady Harriet, I wanted to thank you for what you did today. You saved my daughter’s life.”
“I did nothing that anyone else who was there would not have done, my lord.”
“That matters not. The fact is that you did it. You risked your own life to save Phoebe’s and for that I am eternally grateful. I am forever in your debt. If there is anything—and I mean anything—I can do for you at any point in the future, you need only ask. If it is within my gift, it shall be yours. You have my word of honour as a gentleman. And remember, as the second son of a duke, there is not much that is not within my gift.”
Harriet laughed at this. “You could always ask your big brother if you can’t help.”
He chuckled.
“Oh, I never ask Theodore for anything.”
“I shall bear that in mind.
“Please do. But remember. Whatever you need is yours. You only have to ask.”
With that he bowed and took his place in line for dinner as the gong sounded.
August 1823
“Have you seen Lord Oldbeck, Mrs Aitken?” Harriet asked as she avoided the man dismantling the fortune teller’s booth.
“Not for some time, my lady.”
“Oh dear, I hope he’s not up to mischief. That brother of mine is always up to something. I really do despair of him at times.”
“I saw him with Mary Callahan the kitchen maid, maybe about three quarters of an hour ago,” said Tommy Galloway as he walked by carrying a couple of large planks of wood. “They was heading t’wards the stables.”
Harriet and Mrs Aitken exchanged a glance then started walking in the direction of the stables.
“You don’t think they’re getting up to no good, do you, my lady?”
“Oh I wouldn’t think so. No.” Harriet shook her head vociferously. There was no way. William wouldn’t ruin the girl. He was simple-minded of course. And so was Mary, the kitchen maid. But he knew the basics. Didn’t he? And Mary’s mother would have explained things. Surely to God, she would have prepared the girl for the world. Or would she? Mary had been young when Mrs Callahan had passed on. At what age did most young girls of that station learn such things? Perhaps Mary was too young to learn about men and their desires when her parents had died.
Once they reached the stables they found the stable master leading a beautiful brown gelding out.
“Your brother is in the barn, my lady. He’s with the kitchen maid, Mary. You know. The one that’s well… you know. Not very clever, like.”
“I see.”
“They was quite umm, amorous.”
“Thank you.”
The two women hurried over the cobbled yard without saying anything.
Kissing. She prayed to God he only meant kissing. The barn door was shut but she could hear her brother’s voice around the corner. He had used the small side door for his assignation.
“I love you, Mary. But I think Harry will be mad.”
“Mrs Aitken will be mad too, and cook.”
“We’ll keep it our secret. Did I hurt you really badly?”
“No. Only at first it hurt. But then it got better. And then…”
There were a couple of soft thuds on the wood and muffled grunts and a moan.
Mrs Aitken coughed loudly and Mary yelped.
The two women walked sedately around the corner. Harriet wanted to die.
Her brother’s shirt was undone, his cravat was gone. Heaven alone knew where it was. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and his shirt tails hung out of his breeches. She noted with dismay that his breeches’ buttons were done up in the wrong order too.
The maid’s hair was unbound. Chestnut hair flowed down to her waist. Her ruddy cheeks flamed, partly with passion, partly with embarrassment. Her dress was torn slightly at the breast and there was a dark wet patch at the back just at the top of her thighs.
“Well, my lady, either her courses have come early or your brother has breached her maidenhead,” whispered the housekeeper to Harriet. The look in the woman’s eyes held no reproach, just concern for the mess they might all have just found themselves in.
“It’s not Mary’s fault,” shouted William, pulling his beloved into his arms and shielding her from the wrath he expected from his sister. Harriet could feel the tears nip at the back of her eyes and threaten to spill. If only Papa was still here. He’d know what to do.
Harriet held out a calming hand to her brother.
“William, neither you nor Mary are in trouble. But we need to get Mary inside and bathed.”
“I love her,” he said sullenly.
“I know.” Harriet smiled encouragingly at him. Her little brother stood six foot tall and about three foot wide holding the petite maid against him like a precious doll. He had the thinking capacity of a six-year-old but an ability to love of twenty men. “Here is what is going to happen. You are going to the stable to ask for a blanket. Mary needs a blanket to get back to the house. Her dress has blood on it. You don’t want everyone to know what you two have been up to. Not everyone will approve and you need to look after Mary’s reputation.”
“I don’t want Mary’s reputation harmed,” William replied hastily.
“Of course you do not. So leave Mary with us and go and get the blanket. She’s not in any trouble. Then Mrs Aitken will take her back to the servants’ quarters and get her cleaned up. Is that all right?”
He nodded, passed his beloved Mary over to his sister and headed off to the stables.
“Are you all right, Mary?” Mrs Aitken asked.
“Oh yes. William is lovely. I love him too.”
“You do. And when William, umm, when he, when his seed came out of him… was he inside you, my love?”
“Oh yes. It was lovely and warm. He said it was the best moment of his life.”
“Right.”
Harriet’s cheeks were burning but she was grateful to the housekeeper for establishing the facts such as they were. And she was grateful she at least had a rudimentary understanding of animal husbandry that she knew what the woman was asking.
“It is dripping down my leg now though. I do really need that bath.” She swiped between her legs with her skirts, her lips curled slightly.
“Ah here’s the earl. Thank heavens,” Harriet said. This had to be the worst day of her life.
Mary was bustled off by Mrs Aitken, and William threw his arm around his big sister.
“Harry, you are the best big sister ever. And today was great. The summer fete was the best ever. Did you see the fortune teller? She said I was going to marry and have three children. I think she knew about Mary. And I won the sack race.”
“Did you?”
“You are mad about Mary, are you not?”
“No, William. It’s just that what you did with Mary might have consequences. You know that what you did might result in her having a baby, do you not?”
“I suppose but I didn’t think. We were kissing and it was lovely then
that
grew hard and it felt so right and Harry, have you ever done it?”
“William, we are not discussing me.”
“Oh. Well it feels so good. And if you had done it you would know and you wouldn’t scold me. Though it must be different for girls because you do not have a rod.”
“A rod?”
“Mmm, that’s what the stable hands call it.”
“It is?” Now she understood why some families just sent people like William off to institutions and washed their hands of them. She loved her brother completely but he was such hard work at times and now she had no close relatives left, she had no one left to lean on.
“Yes, and when I put it into Mary it was…”
“ENOUGH!
“What? See, I knew you were mad.”
“I am not mad, William but it is not polite to discuss… bed sport in public and it is certainly not the done thing to discuss it with one’s siblings.”
“Oh I see.”
“I hope so. And I also hope Mary is not increasing because if she is, well, I’m damned if I know how we’re going to get out of that mess without a huge scandal on our heads.”
If truth be told, an earl leaving a simple kitchen maid with his bastard child in her belly was hardly scandalous. It happened the length and breadth of Britain on a monthly basis Harriet would wager. But the earl in question was an imbecile and in love with the aforementioned maid. Harriet’s conscience would not allow her to pay Mary off—not for Mary’s sake nor for William’s sake. And not only that, but Harriet was beginning to suspect that she could not handle William or the estate on her own. She was going to need reinforcements and the reinforcements would have to be male. It looked as if she was going to have to marry.