Chapter 8 Not One to Sleep In #2
Again, she studied the steaming liquid in her cup. When Lilly and the duke had returned from their private walk around the lake that day, Lilly had had leaves in her hair.
And the duke’s shirttail had been partially untucked from his breeches.
“You are wiser than your years, my dear.” Aunt Eleanor shook her head.
“As to your astute observation regarding the duke and Lilly, I am impressed. I spent a great deal of time with both of them and was certain they were over past affections.” The older lady crossed her utensils on her plate and sat up straight.
“Anyhow, I am glad you realized the truth and found the courage to do something about it. And how are you faring now? Trapped in the country with a bunch of folks twice, three times your age?”
Natalie didn’t have the opportunity to answer, for just then her mother entered the room.
Seeing Natalie, Lady Ravensdale smiled affectionately.
“I see you have finally decided to join us today. You haven’t slept this late since we left London.
You’re not ill, are you, dear?” The countess rested her hands on the back of an empty chair and regarded her daughter with concern.
“Oh, I’m fine, Mother.” Natalie couldn’t truthfully explain why she’d been unable to fall asleep.
Kisses like she’d experienced the night before, long, hot, and wet, did something to a girl’s ability to sleep.
Kisses…and touches…and the feel of his hot breath on her neck…
“The nights are turning warm already, and I”—she shrugged—“just couldn’t fall asleep.
” Even to herself she sounded breathless.
Lady Ravensdale blinked a moment as she looked at her daughter.
Natalie could almost read her mother’s mind.
In actuality, the night had been cool. “Well, then. Be that as it might, I wanted to inform you that Lady Riverton received a missive from her daughter, Penelope—Miss Crone—do you remember her? Well, she was planning on spending several weeks at her aunt’s home near Bristol—she has a cousin of like age who is still living with her parents.
Both the girls are on the shelf, so to speak.
Anyhow, Penelope’s aunt has injured an ankle or something…
I cannot remember exactly. But that’s of no matter.
Lady Riverton asked if the two young women could join us here instead of returning to Helmsley Manor.
I agreed, of course. I thought it would be nice for you to have some ladies here closer to your own age. ”
Natalie had met Penelope Crone during her first season and found her a stimulating companion. Miss Crone entertained quite scandalous notions as to how females ought to behave and be treated in society. She provoked intriguing conversations, indeed.
Natalie could not recall having met the cousin, however. “Who is this cousin, Mother?”
Her mother paused as though counting the years.
“Miss Abigail Wright. I believe she is similar in age to Miss Crone. I am not certain. From what I hear, she is something of a bluestocking. In any case, I thought it would be nice for you. You haven’t been yourself, and I thought that perhaps…
” Tilting her head, she regarded her daughter. “Does that sound agreeable, then?”
Natalie sighed. It would be diverting to have some younger ladies about.
And Penelope could prove to be entertaining.
Her ideas about how a woman ought to manage her own life were revolutionary.
Natalie wondered what her mother would think if she realized this.
“I’d like that, Mother.” Summoning more enthusiasm, she smiled warmly.
“You look lovely today, by the way. Did you arise early to send off the expedition?”
When Natalie came out in society two years earlier, she’d realized how lucky she was to have such a youthful-looking mother.
Today her mother appeared bright and cheerful in a peach cotton morning gown with a crisp white apron.
She’d styled her hair in her usual simple knot, pulled up prettily, with tendrils escaping about her nape.
Lady Ravensdale fluffed her skirts and then smoothed them again. “That’s sweet of you, darling. And yes, I woke early to see your father off with all the gentlemen. They are touring the estate’s irrigation systems, I believe. I don’t expect we’ll see them before supper.”
Oh. Natalie fought her disappointment. She hadn’t thought the expedition would last all day. Had all the gentlemen ridden out?
“Did Stone go as well?” she asked.
“Yes, as well as Darly and Peter. Most of the gentlemen, I believe.”
Well then. Not that she needed to see the estate, but it was vexing not to have been invited.
Her mother went on talking. “Perhaps we ladies might make a trip into Bath to do some shopping. Just as you suggested, Eleanor.” She smiled at her longtime friend. “The weather is gorgeous, and the days have already gotten longer. Would you care to join us, Natalie?”
“I suppose. Have I time to change?” At the very least she could leave the estate. And shopping? Always a satisfying pastime!
Her mother glanced at the clock. “The carriages will be brought around at one, so you have barely an hour. Meanwhile, I must locate Lady Riverton to reassure her again of the girls’ welcome.”
“When will they be arriving?”
“Oh, they don’t have far to travel, sometime tomorrow, I imagine.” Her mother headed for the door but then turned around quickly. “One hour, Natalie,” she reminded. And with that, the countess disappeared as quickly as she arrived.
Setting down her cup, Lady Sheffield spoke first. “Miss Penelope Crone is an…interesting young lady. She is a good friend of Lilly’s.”
Natalie smiled. “Yes, I know. I don’t think Mother knows of her liberal tendencies, nor of her political ideas. She will likely liven things up. Are you acquainted with the cousin?”
Squinting slightly, as though doing so might jog her memory, Aunt Eleanor took a moment to answer.
“I do believe I’ve met her on a few occasions.
Miss Abigail something or other. She made her come out the year before Lilly.
She was cheerful, but slightly plump. I don’t think she took very well.
I suppose that would be likely as she is as yet unmarried.
Seems to me she was entangled in some sort of scandal… it has been a while…”
“Or she has been spending too much time with Penelope,” Natalie suggested.
Lady Sheffield nodded. “Yes, or that.” In a change of subject, she tilted her head and surprised Natalie with her candidness by asking, “Your parents aren’t setting their sights on Monfort for you, are they?” Lady Sheffield’s observational skills were obviously not diminished by age.
Natalie groaned. “Dear God, I hope not. But it does appear they are pushing me in that direction.”
The duke’s attentions, or lack thereof, suggested to Natalie that she need not be concerned.
No woman alive could bring that emotionless man up to scratch.
If only her father would desist with his manipulation regarding her personal affairs.
Natalie found it disconcerting that she had more faith in her father’s ability to bring the man up to scratch than she had in her own.
Lady Sheffield’s voice interrupted her absurd train of thought. “A more likely husband, I should think, would be that darned handsome rascal, the new Earl of Hawthorne. He’d be a fine catch.” The woman looked pleased with herself. Were all women of the ton matchmakers?
Natalie choked on her coffee. Aunt Eleanor was very astute. Keeping her eyes fixed firmly upon her food, Natalie tried not to imagine what it would be like to wake up with Lord Hawthorne beside her. It would not do for her godmother to catch wind of Natalie’s inclinations toward…that man!
“You know what they say about reformed rakes…They—”
“Make the best husbands,” Natalie finished for her.
And then, to curtail the direction of Lady Eleanor’s conversation, she continued more seriously, “He is here to collect some belongings Stone has stored for him. From the look and size of the containers, I believe they are paintings or something—large crates and a few trunks.” Lowering her voice confidentially, she added, “Didn’t trust them with his father, from what I gather. ”
Lady Eleanor’s face broke into a delighted smile. “Oh, I do hope he has preserved some of his mother’s paintings! Such a talented lady, she was.” She looked as though she wished to say more but took another sip of her coffee instead. Her hand shook ever so slightly.
“You knew his mother?”
Almost as though she were blinking away a tear or two, Aunt Eleanor looked out the window for a moment before answering.
“Lady Cordelia was a dear friend of mine, that is, before her marriage.” Regaining her composure, she clucked her tongue in disapproval.
“That husband of hers took her off to the country, and we never saw her again.” She reached for the nearby coffee pot and poured herself another half cup.
“Her parents once held a private exhibition in their London home in lieu of a musicale. Most of the paintings were landscapes. I still remember one I wished I could have taken home with me, an oil painting with all the colors of autumn—not traditionally done. Such an untamed result.” She seemed lost in thought.
“I do hope young Hawthorne has been able to save them. That would be a great treasure indeed.”
After hearing this, Natalie wished she’d not told her mother she would go into Bath for the day after all, for it would have been the perfect time for her to see if she could take a peek at what Lord Hawthorne had stored on the third floor.
She ought to feel guilty for even thinking of invading his privacy, but curiosity often got the best of her. Oh, blast.
“Perhaps you could ask him,” she said to her aunt instead. Auntie could very well be a valuable source of information.
But her godmother was on to her. “Hmmm…you are as curious as I am.” She looked at Natalie suspiciously.
“We shall both be forced to wait, however, as he is out with the other gentlemen.” She pushed back her chair and stood, looking around.
“What happened to that footman? I suppose we’ve dallied too late to expect them to wait around for us late risers to finish up in here.
” Heading for the door, she paused before turning back to Natalie one last time.
“Do consider my suggestion, dear. I think Garrett Castleton would be the catch of the year.” Her eyes twinkled merrily.
“Take the word of an old widowed lady who has seen both the best and the worst of them. I can spot a good man from a mile away.” She then laughed and exited the room, not waiting for a reply.
The ladies cut a considerable swath through Bath that afternoon.
Although not the fashionable scene it had once been, the charming town offered plenty of shopping and walking and taking of tea for the countess’s guests to experience.
Natalie enjoyed herself more than she’d imagined.
She’d done no shopping since breaking her engagement, and that seemed ages ago!
She happily seized the opportunity to make up for lost time and did her fair share to keep the Bath merchants flush.
In carriages loaded down with brightly colored packages, they returned to Raven’s Park just as the heat of the day burned hottest.
Carriage doors flew open, and liveried footman pulled down steps. Grooms handily unloaded packages, while ladies’ maids awaited their mistresses with lavender-scented baths to wash away the grime of the day. Ravensdale and his gentlemen had not yet returned.
The matronly guests took their time bathing, napping, and then dressing again.
As the sun set, they at last gathered in the drawing room, still with no sign of the gentlemen.
Upon consuming a second glass of wine, Lady Ravensdale suggested they abandon hope of the gentlemen returning in a timely fashion and take supper without them.
Tea had been consumed hours ago, and it would be a shame if the efforts in the kitchen were to grow cold.
There were a few token protests that the men might feel slighted, but Lady Ravensdale dismissed them.
She knew her husband well, she explained to them.
It might be well after dark before they returned.
With no assigned seating tonight, the women congregated toward the foot of the table where Lady Ravensdale presided. Being the youngest, Natalie found herself closer to the opposite end, flanked by an empty chair.
Naturally, before the footmen could serve the first course, the sounds of boots and masculine joviality echoed upstairs from the foyer.
Barely one minute passed before the earl himself swaggered in and leaned down to whisper something into his wife’s ear.
By the expression on her mother’s face, Natalie guessed he smelled of horses and spirits.
The earl and his scotch, although not bosom buddies, were, at times, good friends.
The countess rolled her eyes and then spoke to the table in general. “The gentlemen, it seems, will be joining us after all.” Some cavalier and others quite sheepish, the fellows wandered in one by one. Apparently, the meal was to be further delayed.
In one moment Natalie anticipated seeing Lord Hawthorne, only to dread his company in the next.
She’d never before acted so crudely with a gentleman!
What would she say to him? Would he ignore her?
She kept her eyes fixed upon her empty plate as various gentlemen found their seats near her father’s end of the long table.
Lord Hawthorne drifted into the dining room with the second wave of gentlemen.
Taking the empty chair beside Natalie, he sat down and greeted those around her.
As more and more of the gentlemen arrived, it could not help but be noticed that not one of them had declined to partake of the earl’s scotch.
Voices were louder than usual and some slurred their words.
Many of them forgot their manners, placing elbows upon the table and ignoring the carefully folded napkins completely.
Natalie sat still as a statue. Lord Hawthorne had chosen to sit beside her!