The Lady In Question (11 page)

“Do you have family, Gordon?” she asked idly.

“I am alone in the world, ma’am,” he murmured, his attention firmly on the game.

“Oh, dear, I am sorry.” Even now, she couldn’t imagine being without any family at all.

“It is simply a fact of my life.”

“Did you always wish to be a butler?”

“My father was a butler, as was his father before him.” He studied the board. “I never considered anything else.”

“Do you like it?”

“I find great satisfaction in service, my lady. My years with Lord Marchant were quite fulfilling.” His manner was offhand, his voice had the cadence of a recitation, no doubt because he was intent upon the game. “I am quite content with my life.”

“But if you could have done something else, what would it have been?” she pressed.

“I should have liked to sail the seas and explore undiscovered parts of the world,” he said without pause.

She stared in surprise. “Really?”

He looked up, startled, as if he weren’t aware he had said it aloud.

“Why didn’t you, then?”

“I…” For a moment he seemed befuddled, as if searching for memories so old he could no longer recall them. “It was merely a boyhood desire for adventure, my lady, with no more substance to it than that.”

“But you didn’t pursue it?”

“I grew out of it,” he said firmly, as if to put an end to the subject.

“My sister and I used to long for adventure. We thought it quite unfair that only boys have such opportunities.” She paused. “Why didn’t you do what you wanted with your life?”

He stared at her as if she were at least slightly insane. “One has responsibilities. To one’s family and employers particularly. I feel I
have
done as I wanted with my life.” His gaze returned to the board. “It is your turn.”

She rolled the dice and moved her piece.

“And what shall I do with my life, Gordon?” she said under her breath.

“I thought you were refurbishing the house.” His tone was mild.

“I shall have a few good years remaining when the house is completed. I am not in my dotage yet.”

The man was being nothing less than obstinate. From what she knew of her butler thus far, he had definite opinions. The trick was in getting him to state them. “It’s not an especially large house and won’t take more than a few months to finish. What shall I do after that?”

“It is not for me to say, ma’am.”

“Surely you have some thoughts on the matter?” She huffed in exasperation. “I should very much like to hear them.”

“Your roll.”

She shook the cup rather more violently than necessary and threw the dice on the table, then moved a marker.

“Are you certain you wish to do that?”

“Yes,” she snapped.

He glanced at her and raised a brow. “Is something amiss?

She glared silently.

“If I may say so, my lady, you are a stubborn sort. Very well.” He sat back in his chair, folded his hands together and rested them on the table. “I admit your pronouncement this morning that you will live a grand adventure from this moment forth strikes me as being fraught with all manner of dangers you have yet to consider. Setting that aside, I have always believed one should live one’s life in the manner that nature and tradition intended. I was intended to follow in the footsteps of my father and his father.”

“And what I am intended for?”

“To be a good wife and, God willing, mother. It’s what your family, your heritage and nature has prepared you for. If indeed you wish to know what I think you should do with the rest of your life, I would advise you to marry again. A lady should not live her life alone. She needs a husband’s council and guidance.”

At once, Delia had an overwhelming urge to shake this dear old man until his teeth rattled. She would never do that, of course, yet the annoyingly sanctimonious tone in his voice set her own teeth on edge. “I suspected you were opinionated, but I had no idea you were stuffy and narrow-minded as well.”

“I commend you on your astute assessment of my character, my lady.”

She stared at him, then laughed. “I am exceedingly glad I have encouraged you to speak freely.”

“And I am glad I have said nothing to offend you.”

“Not at all. I quite enjoy a good debate.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “What if I do not wish to marry again? What if I wish to follow the course you desired as a boy?”

“Balderdash. Utter nonsense.” He snorted in disdain. “You said it yourself: Adventure is not for women. Far too dangerous and uncertain for the fairer sex. No, marriage is the only true purpose in life for women.”

She studied him for a long moment. “Have you ever been married, Gordon?”

“No indeed.”

“I see. So you have denied some poor woman from fulfilling her
true
purpose in life,” she said innocently.

“Perhaps.” He raised a brow. “Or I have saved her from a long life with an opinionated, stuffy and narrow-minded husband.”

She laughed. “Have you never wished to marry at all?”

He shook his head. “Never.”

“You have never been in love then either?”

“No, my lady.”

“Surely there was a comely parlormaid in your past?”

“There have been several, ma’am,” he said coolly. “But none that have captured by heart.”

She grinned. “To their regret, no doubt.”

“No doubt.”

“I can scarce believe you have not succumbed to some woman’s charms. An entrancing housekeeper, perhaps? Or a buxom cook?”

“We could certainly use a cook of any form or figure at this point,” he muttered. She laughed, any annoyance with him now gone; he was far too much fun to tease. “I think you protest too much, Gordon. I cannot believe there is not a lost love somewhere in your past.” She leaned her elbows on the table and propped her chin in her hands. “Possibly a farmer’s daughter?”

“No.”

“I know.” She grinned wickedly. “A vicar’s sister?”

He paused and the corners of his mouth twitched as if he were fighting a smile. “Not that I recall.

“A governess, then?”

“Not one.”

“A merchant’s widow?”

“No.”

“A shepherdess?”

“No.”

“A lady of the house?”

His gaze shot to hers. For a moment, his controlled butler facade disappeared and the years seemed to drop away. For a moment, his gaze locked with hers and there was an intensity in his eyes that stole her breath. For a moment, she glimpsed the man he might once have been. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

“No.” His gaze dropped to the table. He rolled the dice and played as if nothing of consequence had passed between them.

But it had.

She had overstepped the barrier between mistress and servant. No, she had bounded over it. The poor man had inadvertently revealed his soul to her. Thanks to her prying, his most private secret was exposed.

From the look in his eye she knew full well he had once lost his heart to a woman above his station. A woman who had obviously broken his heart. Anger on his behalf surged through her. She rolled the dice and forced a casual note to her voice. “Did she care for you as well?”

His tone was clipped. “Her affections were otherwise engaged.”

“I see.” She moved a marker seven spaces. She was in an excellent position, but it scarcely mattered. Her attention was firmly on the man across from her. “She was in love with someone else, then?”

“Lady Wilmont.” Gordon flattened his hands on the table and met her gaze firmly. “This was a very, very long time ago and I can scarce remember the details. My life is in the past where it belongs and I prefer it that way.”

“Of course,” she murmured and fell silent. She should let it rest. Gordon did not wish to discuss this. Still…

“So she
was
in love with someone else, then?”

He moved his men without looking up at her. “She was a widow still in love with her deceased husband.”

“I see.” She tried to hold her tongue and failed. “And you gave up on any possibility that with time —

”

“The circumstances were unusual. I did not give up, I accepted the situation for what it was. There is a difference.” He set the dice cup firmly in front of her. “If we are quite done examining the foibles of my past, I feel I should tell you I have always enjoyed the playing of backgammon in a certain amount of peace. And silence.”

“How very interesting.” She picked up the cup and rolled, her tone light. “As I have always found conversation to be as stimulating as the game.”

“Imagine my surprise, my lady,” he murmured.

She bit back a grin. Whether he realized it or not, he was most amusing. What a strange turn her life had taken. Her butler was fast becoming her dearest friend.

Perhaps it was the lateness of the hour or the intimacy of the cozy library or the banter that accompanied their play, but it struck her that the candid relationship she and the elderly man had forged was very much the kind of relaxed comradeship she’d hoped to have with a man someday, albeit a much younger man. In her mind’s eye, she could see herself playing backgammon late into the night, talking and laughing and teasing this as-yet-unknown gentleman. There was no face, as he did not, in truth, exist in her life at this time, but she could see his hands: strong and sure and confident. Very much like Gordon’s hands, except, of course, these would belong to the man she loved.

Chapter 6

Delia stepped into the entry at Effington Hall and drew a deep breath. The scents of childhood memories surrounded her. The odd, comforting aromas of ancient houses, vague hints of cinnamon and clove, of lemon oils and waxes, of days gone by and affection lingering always. As good as it was to be here again, she could not dismiss a nagging sense of trepidation. It was to be expected, of course; this would be the first time she had seen most of the members of her family since her marriage and she had no idea how she would be received. Certainly her grandmother wished her presence here, but what of the others?

It would be something of a test, she supposed. As appealing as the whole idea of flouting convention and defying the rules of mourning was, Delia wasn’t entirely sure she had the courage to go through with it.

“I cannot believe it took you so long to get here.” Cassie sailed into the entry and threw her arms around her sister. “I’ve been watching for you for two days now and I very much feared you would not come at all.”

“Grandmother requested my presence and I could scarce ignore that. Regardless of my other crimes, that would be unforgivable.” Delia untangled herself from her sister’s embrace and stepped back. “I assume Mother is here as well?”

“Of course.” Cassie’s gaze skimmed over her sister and her brows drew together. “Gad, you look awful in black. I noticed the other day, but I hated to say anything.”

“Thank you for your restraint.”

“Now, now, you needn’t take that tone.” Cassie grinned. “I’m simply surprised, as I look rather nice in black.”

Delia returned the smile sweetly. “Then
you
can be the widow.”

“Precisely what I had in mind,” Cassie murmured with a wicked look in her eye.

“Exactly what do you mean by that?” Delia had seen that look before and didn’t like it one bit.

“Time enough for explanations later.” Cassie hooked her arm through her sister’s and steered her toward the stairs. “Your room is ready, the one connected to mine so that we may catch up on everything that has happened.”

“That should take all of a moment or two.” Delia sighed and started up the stairs beside her sister.

“Nothing at all has happened in my life since we last spoke. Other than that, I have decided to spend Charles’s money on the refurbishing of the house and I should like your help.”

“What fun. I should be delighted. From the little I’ve seen of your house, it certainly needs something. It is far too dark and heavy for my taste. Yours too, I would imagine. Besides, it is your house now and you have every right to make it your own.”

“I do feel a touch guilty about it, though.”

Cassie stopped and stared. “Why on earth would you feel guilty? Charles ruined you and then had the nerve to get himself killed. I should think spending his fortune in whatever way you please is the very least you should get out of all this.”

“Cassie!”

“Oh, dear, that did sound rather mercenary and quite unsympathetic, didn’t it?”

“Indeed it did.”

“I am sorry, dearest, but that’s how I feel about it all. You were ill-treated by this man —”

“He
did
marry me.”

“And by doing so, enabled you to inherit his fortune. Damnably decent of him and, being quite blunt, the only favor he did you.” Cassie continued up the stairs. “You do want me to be honest, don’t you?”

“Not really,” Delia muttered.

Her sister laughed. “We shall get you settled and refreshed from the journey and, oh, before I forget”

— her tone was deceptively casual — “Grandmother is waiting to see you.”

“What?” Delia stopped and stared in disbelief. “Now?”

“Well, not this very minute, but” — Cassie wrinkled her nose — “as soon as possible. The moment your carriage was seen in the distance, Grandmother sent me to watch for you and gathered everyone else —”

“Everyone else?” Delia’s voice rose. “What do you mean, everyone else?”

“Not really everyone. Not Father or the duke or any of the other uncles or Cousin Thomas or —”

“Who, then?” Delia asked, even though she already knew the answer.

“Aunt Katherine, of course; she is the current duchess, after all. And Aunt Abigail and Aunt Grace and —”

“Mother?”

Cassie nodded.

“Good heavens.” A heavy weight settled in the pit of Delia’s stomach. She should have known this was coming. Should have suspected the moment she learned the dowager duchess had insisted on her presence at Effington Hall, where the entire family would be in residence. Most notably its female members.