Scandalous Miss Brightwells [Book 1-4]

Bertram waylaid him, almost barrelling into him as he rushed to put his hand on the door knob first. “Very minor, but he can’t turn about in this weather and churned-up mud, can he, now?” He sent Derry a meaningful look. “You just see to Miss Worthington and I’ll bring back a report. I was off to the stables myself, in fact, as we need to ensure we’re set to continue our journey with no delays. Antoinette!”

She sprang to attention, relieved that Bertram had come up with this interim plan. It was obviously up to her now to smooth the way. “Odette, I see you’ve finished your tea. Perhaps we should continue onwards to Patmore Farm.” A sudden thought assailed her. “Lord Derry, your estate is very close, is it not? And the rain is not so very bad. I’m sure Miss Worthington would love nothing more than to view Derry House. After all, her in-laws will be your neighbours within an hour’s carriage ride.”

Lord Derry hesitated and scratched his head, thinking. There was a slightly harried look about him, as if the condition of his horse had blinded him to the immediate social niceties required. Still, he managed to turn to Miss Worthington and say with commendable charm, “Would you indeed like to pay a call to Derry House along the way, Miss Worthington? It would be but a ten-minute detour.”

“What a splendid idea!” Antoinette clapped her hands together. “Odin may well only need just a little more rest, but of course you can procure a mount from your own stables and then choose to return to London in the morning. Lord Derry, you will, of course, come with us in our carriage. I’ll see that Mrs Monks is informed.”

The plan was considered an excellent one to suit the circumstances, and within the hour, the party was drawing up in front of the portico of Derry House.

As the double doors were thrown open by the stately butler, Antoinette slid Odette a surreptitious look and was rewarded by the awe on her face. Derry House was indeed colossal, and although the girl was to inherit a fortune when her papa died, the family’s money came from trade. A landed estate would be her dream, Antoinette imagined. And her father’s dream, too.

“Such a sweet place you have, Derry,” Antoinette said as her host helped her out of the carriage, then reached in an arm to draw Odette out into the increasingly heavy rain, holding up an umbrella to shield her from the weather.

They hurried up the stairs and into the lofty hallway where the ladies were relieved of their mantles and the men of their coats and hats.

“Do tell Odette the history of your home, Derry,” Antoinette pressed him as they were shown into the drawing room where a crackling fire was a welcome contrast to the deteriorating weather. “The original part is more than three hundred years old, is that not so?”

With obvious pride, Lord Derry expanded on the role his family had played during the Civil War, losing their home in the middle of the seventeenth century when the Roundheads were victorious, but having it returned and being awarded additional lands when a new king was returned to the throne some ten years later.

“But of course, Odette, you also will be mistress of a fine home which Jack has purchased with the fortune he has made,” said Antoinette as they were served Madeira once they’d settled themselves. “He has made his money just like your father, and although there are those who spurn trade, you have a great deal to thank him for, namely his business acumen.” She took a sip and smiled at Derry, adding, “Everything simply landed in your lap, eh, Derry? And now you’re looking for a wife, and if my hunch is correct, my niece will become mistress of all this.” She waved an expansive arm about her, conscious of the scandalised look Odette sent her, and the rather startled expression on Lord Derry’s face. Still, he didn’t seem to take offence, and in fact appeared relieved when Antoinette suggested he take Odette on a tour of the lofty building.

“Lordy, I don’t know how that went,” muttered Bertram when they’d gone. “But at least they’re alone.”

“And at least I’ve sown the seed.” Antoinette, who was more than ready for an aperitif, searched for the bell pull. “This is just the kind of estate Odette would aspire to. And don’t you think Odette is just the kind of wife Derry needs? One with a great fortune—regardless of where it comes from. Katherine, by contrast, brings nothing.”

Betram nodded gloomily and Antoinette exhaled gustily before adding, “We know Jack and Katherine are perfect for one another, but will they discover it in time?”

While Antoinette was determined not to lose hope in her plan to achieve her niece’s happiness through throwing Derry and Odette together, her sister was fast losing hope as she stared through the Quamby House’s rain-flecked drawing room window and took in the expressions of her daughter and the handsome young gentleman she’d hoped would be her husband.

With a sigh she turned to her husband who was reading the newspaper in his favourite wing back armchair before the fire. “I’d so hoped sending them to the apple tree would rekindle memories that couldn’t be denied. But Katherine and Jack look as if they’re carrying the woes of the entire world upon their shoulders. Oh Fenton, darling, I can’t bear it!”

At the first hint of genuine distress, Fenton was always Fanny’s greatest stalwart. Now he was at her side in an instant, his arm about her shoulders as he followed her gaze. He sighed and when he spoke his tone as bleak as Fanny’s. “Honourable fellow’s just ended anything there might have been between them,” he muttered. “I can see it on his face.”

Fanny turned into her husband’s embrace. Fenton was her rock. He teased her when she took things too seriously but he was always the first to understand the gravity of something like this. “Oh Fenton, darling! Katherine has been miserable for seven years! She deserves to be loved as she loves. To see her last opportunity snatched away is just

too terrible. Oh, George!” She stopped abruptly, uncomfortable to discover her sister’s son hovering in the doorway. It wasn’t often George looked ill at ease. He had the kind of bravado that meant he brazened anything out, and walking in to see his aunt looking distressed was likely to do the opposite of tugging at his heartstrings, she thought.

He took a few steps forward as he followed the trajectory of their vision through the window. “Jack didn’t tell me he was coming back,” he said.

“I’m sure Jack doesn’t have to inform you of his movements,” Fanny said tartly. She disliked George intensely and was sure he would revel in Katherine’s unhappiness if he knew.

“No, of course not.” George frowned as he took up position at the next window and Fanny wondered what he thought of the scene. It seemed suddenly prurient to be observing Katherine and Jack when they had no idea they were being watched. They were walking side by side, heads lowered, expressions glum. There was none of the joyful luminosity Fanny had hoped to see wash over her daughter’s face.

George cleared his throat. “I thought I should mention that Lady Hale is back again. She’s in the hall asking after Diana.”

Fanny shot George a sharp look. “We could well do without that meddlesome creature at such a time, couldn’t we?”

Fenton was more ameliorating. “Come now, Fanny, she’s the girl’s grandmother. Of course Lady Hale would want to learn news of Diana. And here she is,” he added in a lowered tone before saying expansively, “Good afternoon, Lady Hale. Yes, what good news Diana has been found, isn’t it? And you look as up to the mark as ever.”

Katherine didn’t think she could bear it. No sooner had she and Jack parted, Jack to go to the stables in preparation for leaving, and she to return to the house, than she was hailed by the unwelcome tones of her mother-in-law.

The black bombazine-clad figure with her black spotted net veil was like a harbinger of doom

“You’ll be pleased to know, Lady Hale, that Diana has been found, safe and sound,” Katherine pre-empted the old lady who was advancing towards her on the gravel path. She forced a smile even though her heart was breaking. Jack was about to leave and he was never coming back.

“I heard the naughty child climbed into a stranger’s carriage and was whisked miles away!” Lady Hale cried, her voice shrill. She looked like a formidable galleon in swathes of grey and black silk bearing down on her. “What is she being taught of common sense and how to make wise decisions, I ask? That girl needs a firmer hand.” Lady Hale drew level as she continued to berate Katherine.

“Diana is only six, and she knew the carriage belonged to someone visiting.” Katherine tried to keep her tone mild. “It was unfortunate that we had the worry of it, but she was never in any danger.”