Chapter Seven
It was late afternoon when Tessa woke again, much refreshed. Her mind was clearer and the headache had gone—though she still ached at how her brother had betrayed her. Again.
She lay there, brooding about how both her father and her brother had used her—repeatedly—and how in her ignorance and her pathetic, needy belief that they loved her and wanted the best for her, she’d allowed it. The realization simmered like acid in her belly.
Never again. It was time to take control of her life.
She rang for Sutton to order a bath, but when the maid came in she was not alone. A small nut-brown dog with a white flag of a tail bounced in ahead of her, and perceiving Tessa, gave a happy yap and a mighty leap and scrambled onto her bed.
“Billy!” she exclaimed delightedly, laughing as the little dog wriggled and capered in an ecstatic reunion.
“So, he really is your dog,” Sutton commented, laughing at the little dog’s antics. “We did wonder.”
“Yes, but how did you know? And how did he come to be here?” She’d assumed he would have run off, back to his old life on the streets. Edgar wouldn’t have tolerated a dog in the house.
“The boy brought him, on Lord Alverleigh’s orders.”
“What boy?”
Sutton shrugged. “Joey, his name is. A street boy, I think, but his lordship’s taken him in for some reason.
Oh, and his lordship said to tell you to keep the dog away from his aunt.
She don’t like dogs.” She smiled. “Now, m’lady, what about that bath?
You’ll want to prepare for meeting Lady Gosforth.
His lordship’s had all your things brought here, so let me know what you’d like to wear.
I’ll just have the bath and hot water brought up. ”
Tessa cuddled her dog, so happy to see the little fellow again. Marcus had arranged it? And returned her belongings to her? How he had persuaded Edgar to let them go was a mystery, but she was grateful for it.
She slipped out of bed and looked into the wardrobe. Everything had been pressed and was tidily packed away: Sutton had been busy while she slept.
She recalled his comment as he left: You will wish to be properly attired when you meet my aunt. Something about the way he’d said it made her suspect his aunt might be somewhat of a high stickler. Most society ladies were, in her experience. Still, she wouldn’t be staying long.
After a long hot bath, she felt a lot better—almost ready for anything. She considered which of her dresses to wear to meet the aunt—Marcus had brought everything, even her favorite books and some of the little knick-knacks she’d had in her bedroom. So thoughtful of him—she wasn’t used to that.
Recalling that she was hoping for a recommendation from his aunt or one of her friends, she chose one of the dresses she’d altered to look plainer and more in keeping for a companion.
At half past six, with Billy left snoozing on a rug in her bedroom, Sutton conducted Tessa to a large, tastefully appointed sitting room.
A fire blazed brightly. Marcus stood in front of it.
Seeing him there, so solid and tall, caused a small ripple of relief to pass though her. She wasn’t quite so alone.
An elderly lady rose to greet her—his aunt, Tessa assumed.
Tall and thin—apart from a generous bosom—she was dressed in the first stare of fashion, not showy, but the kind of elegance that money alone couldn’t buy.
Her hair was silver and pulled back severely, highlighting both her elegant cheekbones and her proud Roman nose.
Marcus—she’d better start thinking of him as Lord Alverleigh: now that she’d recalled his title, it wouldn’t do to address him familiarly, especially in front of this grim-looking aunt—introduced them.
She regarded Tessa through a lorgnette, her eyes gimlet hard, her demeanor stony.
He’d told her his aunt was a little intimidating. A little intimidating? More like Attila the Hen. She raised her chin and held the old woman’s gaze.
Lady Gosforth scanned Tessa’s outfit from top to bottom, and raised one elegantly plucked eyebrow in a disdainful, sardonic arch, as if to say, What is that you’re wearing?
Tessa stiffened her spine. She would not be intimidated.
The old lady watched Tessa’s curtsy with a critical eye and then bade them both to be seated. “Will you have tea or sherry?”
Spotting the small glass at Lady Gosforth’s elbow, Tessa opted for sherry. She didn’t much care for sherry but when in Rome. . .
Lady Gosforth glanced at the butler, who looked at Lord Alverleigh but before he could say anything she said. “My nephew does not require refreshments. He’s leaving.”
“Aunt Maude,” he began in a warning voice.
“Marcus you know very well that while this . . . lady continues to sleep under this roof you must sleep elsewhere. For the sake of her . . . reputation,” she added with a faintly malicious smile.
It was clear to Tessa that those pauses were deliberate, to throw doubt on what followed.
The old witch thought Tessa had no reputation to lose.
Lord Alverleigh leaned back in his chair, crossed one leg over the other and said, “I’ll have a brandy, Peverill.” He turned to Tessa. “Don’t let my aunt alarm you, Lady Hewitt—I have already made arrangements to sleep at my club.”
“I’m not alarmed in the slightest,” Tessa said coolly. It wasn’t quite true but she was determined not to let this steely old woman rattle her.
There was a short silence, broken only by the clinking of crystal as the butler filled glasses, and set a small dish of almond wafers at Tessa’s elbow.
“That will do, Peverill,” the old lady said when the butler had finished serving.
Once the butler had left, she turned to Tessa. “Tell me, Lady Hewitt, what is it you want of my nephew? You clearly have a plan.”
“Aunt Maude—”
“Pish tush, let the gel speak for herself. Or are you worried about what she might reveal?”
“Not in the least.”
Tessa set down her untouched glass. “What do I want of your nephew? Introductions, that is all. It was his idea to bring me here, for which I’m very grateful, but—”
“Introductions? To whom? His friends? I’ll tell you now, not one of them has a superior fortune.”
Tessa glared at the old woman. “I want no introductions to his friends—or to any men. I have no wish to marry again, if that’s what you’re thinking. The introductions I sought were to elderly ladies like yourself—only perhaps to ones more open-minded.”
Lord Alverleigh gave a muffled crack of laughter.
Lady Gosforth raised her lorgnette again. “Elderly ladies? Oh hush, Marcus. This is important. Why do you want to meet elderly ladies, gel?”
“Didn’t your nephew explain? I am seeking a position as a lady’s companion.”
The old lady frowned. “A lady’s companion. To what end?”
Tessa rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? To earn a living, of course.”
Lady Gosforth stared at her for a long moment, then said in an incredulous voice, “You would choose to become a lady’s companion, to run endless errands and be at somebody’s beck and call, in preference to marriage?”
Tessa sent an apologetic glance to Lord Alverleigh. “Yes.”
“Why?”
Tessa lifted her chin. “That’s my business.”
Lady Gosforth considered that for a moment then shook her head. “If I’m to house you and introduce you to my friends, I’d say that it’s my business too. I don’t know you, after all, and what I do know of you is far from—”
Lord Alverleigh rose to his feet. “Aunt Maude, that’s quite enough! I told Lady Hewitt that she would find safe haven here, not be obliged to endure impertinent questions.”
His aunt bristled. “Impertinent?”
“Grossly.”
Tessa also had had enough. She rose and walked to the door.
“Where do you think you’re going, missy?” Lady Gosforth snapped.
Tessa turned to face her. “It’s no concern of yours. I did not ask to come here, and I will not stay to sow discord between you and your nephew.”
To her amazement, the old lady stared at her a moment then laughed. “Sow discord? What nonsense! There’s no discord here, gel, just a . . . a robust family discussion. Nothing to get upset about. Now sit down.”
Tessa didn’t move. Her hand was still on the door handle.
The old woman stamped her foot. “Are you deaf, gel? I said, Sit. Down.”
Tessa glanced at Lord Alverleigh. To her surprise, he looked amused.
“That, Lady Hewitt, is what my brothers Gabe and Harry call the voice of General Gosforth. A great loss to Wellington it was, not admitting ladies to the army. But please, do sit down. I know it doesn’t seem like the welcome I hoped you would have, but let us see where a civilized”—he gave his aunt a stern look—“discussion might lead.”
Tessa hesitated. “I don’t want charity.” Ironic, because that’s exactly what she was existing on at the moment.
“And you won’t get it here,” the old lady snapped.
Tessa glared back at her. Lord Alverleigh who had followed her to the door, cupped her elbow with his palm and said softly, “I never offered you charity and I’m not offering it now.
But can’t one old friend help another without being accused of charity?
” She sighed, and let him lead her back to her seat. It was all quite confusing.
He turned to his aunt. “Now, Aunt Maude, behave yourself.”
His aunt sniffed. “She’s got a backbone, I’ll say that for her. And too much pride for her own good.”
Tessa stiffened. “Too much pride? How? I am looking for a position as a paid companion.”
“Why a companion? Why not something else? No don’t look at me like that, gel—I’m curious, that’s all.”
Tessa said wearily. “I have little education and few accomplishments, so I could never be a governess. And I was rejected by no fewer than forty-seven shop owners when I applied for a position as a shop girl.”
The finely plucked eyebrows rose. “You applied to become a shop gel? At forty-seven shops?”
“Unsuccessfully. And it appears that you also consider me unsuitable as a lady’s companion.”
“Quite right. You do not have the temperament for it.”
“With the right employer—”