Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
The ten long days since Sebastian had left Little Benning dragged. The big house seemed empty without Isabel and the increasingly difficult task of avoiding Freddy and Fanny, with their plans for the ball, had made Sebastian feel like a hostage in his own home.
He took to immuring himself in the study with the door firmly closed or going for long tours of his estate.
In his spare time he devoured books and journals on farming.
He now knew all his tenants and their families by name and had discussed plans for improving their holdings, renovating their cottages, and revolutionising the ancient farm practices.
Not all of his ideas would be greeted with universal enthusiasm, and, while he would rather bring them along of their own volition, for some of the older tenants, the power of position may be the only way he could ensure compliance.
He understood that power. He was the lord and they would do as he ordered.
It was a feeling not dissimilar to standing on a battlefield and giving an order to launch his troops into the thick of the fray, an exhilarating blend of fear and power. A heady mix to be used sparingly.
But now the long wait for his siblings to arrive was over.
Young Peter Thompson had been stationed at the gate to keep a watch for the coach.
From the window of the study, Sebastian could see the boy running up the drive towards the house, and his heart lurched with anticipation.
Connie and Matt were here at last—his family.
‘The coach’ll be here any minute,’ the boy announced, meeting his lordship in the front hall.
Sebastian gave Peter a shilling and, adjusting his neckcloth, which seemed to have come loose, he strode out of the front door to wait for his brother and sister.
As the coach turned on to the forecourt, Matt leaned out of the window, waving his hat, a grin from ear to ear.
‘Bas!’ he shouted.
A glimpse of Connie’s best bonnet also appeared at the window as she pulled her brother back inside the coach. Sebastian smiled as he heard her scolding him.
‘Matt, stop making such a fool of yourself.’
Lordly decorum quite forgotten, Sebastian bounded down the stone stairs to greet his siblings, lifting Connie from the coach before the footman had set down the steps and clasping Matt to him.
He turned back to the coach to lend his hand to Isabel.
Her gloved fingers clasped his hand, and she smiled down at him.
He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, hoping the simple gesture conveyed a range of emotions, from how very pleased he was to see her to his thanks for everything she had done for his family.
‘Welcome home, Lady Somerton.’
She rewarded him with a smile and a barely perceptible acknowledging pressure on his own fingers.
‘It is good to be… home.’
‘You look very well,’ he heard himself saying, thinking as he spoke that a few weeks of homely cooking and bucolic living had given Isabel some colour in her pale cheeks and life in her eyes.
In the hallway, Connie spun on her heel, looking upwards at the mural of Diana and Actaeon sporting around the dome.
‘Oh, Bas, this is beautiful. Is it all really yours?’
‘Every stone and associated debt,’ Sebastian said with a laugh in his voice.
‘I am going to wake soon in my own bedroom in Little Benning and find this is all a dream,’ Connie said. spreading her arms wide.
Sebastian put an arm around his sister’s shoulders, delighted to have her by his side at last. He wanted to show it all to her, share his good fortune with his brother and sister.
‘Wait until I show you the gallery and the stables. Did Lady Somerton tell you about her foal? Ah, Mrs. Fletcher.’ He gestured for the housekeeper who hovered in the shadows of the stairs.
She came forward and bobbed a curtsey. ‘Miss Alder, Mister Alder, welcome to Brantstone. You must be tired after your journey.’ She gestured towards the stairs. ‘Your rooms are ready.’
‘Oh, I’m not tired at all,’ Connie said and looked up at her brother. ‘Bas, I’ve never known anything like it! The best room at the inn last night, and the inn keeper treated Matt and me like we were royalty.’
Sebastian beamed and turned to Isabel. ‘I must apologise for my siblings. I hope you are not too worn out by their company.’
Isabel met his eyes. ‘Not at all. I have thoroughly enjoyed every minute of the last fortnight.’
Impulsively, he took her hand, now free of the gloves, and bent and kissed her fingers.
‘Thank you for your care, Lady Somerton. I am forever in your debt.’
‘Well, well, who do we have here?’
Freddy and Fanny appeared, standing side by side at the door to the library, and the cheerful mood seemed to dissipate.
Sebastian silently cursed the Lynchs. Their continued presence felt like a blight on the house, and it took a monumental effort to keep the ice from his voice as he effected the introductions.
Only a fool would have missed the fawning attention Freddy paid to Constance. Unused to the attentions of men of the world, Connie coloured prettily at his overblown compliments. The gorge rose in Sebastian’s throat and he wondered how best to educate his sister in such matters.
‘I am sure,’ Fanny said, seizing Connie by the arm, ‘that we shall be the very best of friends. Now, has Cousin Sebastian told you of the ball that is to be held here?’
Sebastian’s teeth ground at the familiar use of Cousin Sebastian.
‘Oh yes, Lady Somerton told me about it.’ Connie looked at her brother. ‘Bas, I have nothing to wear!’
Sebastian looked up at the ceiling. ‘And so it begins...’ he said with no malice.
He had already briefed Mrs. Fletcher to organise a modiste and a tailor to attend on Connie and Matt the next day.
Connie pulled a face at him. ‘You know I wouldn’t ask for a new dress unless I really meant it.’
Fanny patted her arm. ‘If nothing can be arranged, we are much of a size and I am sure I will have something in my wardrobe that you will like. Come, let me show you to your room. It will be the yellow bedchamber, just near me. I can’t wait to show you the house.’
As Fanny began to lead Connie up the stairs with a proprietorial air, the chill of disappointment settled on Sebastian’s shoulders.
He had been looking forward to showing Connie the house, anticipating her pleasure at the sight of her bedroom, which he had filled with yellow and white roses from the garden.
Isabel touched his arm and she looked up at him.
‘Let me,’ she whispered.
Walking to the bottom of the stairs, she called up at the two girls.
‘Fanny, the tour of the house can wait. Constance needs a little rest after her recent illness and the stress of the journey. Allow Lord Somerton to show his sister to her chamber. Can you and Mrs. Fletcher arrange for some tea in the blue parlour?’
Fanny, masking the fleeting moue of disappointment that curled her lips, relinquished her hold on Connie. She smiled at Sebastian and fluttered her eyelashes.
‘Of course, Lord Somerton.’
Sebastian put his arm around Connie’s shoulders and led her up the stairs, pointing out various sour-faced Somerton ancestors on the way.
‘Close your eyes,’ he said as he threw the door open.
‘I can smell roses,’ she said.
He had personally chosen the room for Connie, knowing she liked sunshine and light. The huge vase of the best of the summer roses stood on the chest, filling the room with their perfume.
She opened her eyes and, seeing the room, she squealed with delight, pressing her hands to her chest. At the sight of her incredulous face, love for his sister swelled Sebastian’s heart.
He wanted to fold her in his arms and keep her safe from all the evil of the world.
He could not rest easily knowing a murderer lurked in the shadows of Brantstone.
‘Oh, Bas ...’ she turned to him, tears glinting on her eyelashes. She ran at him, throwing her arms around him. ‘I have missed you so much.’
He held her to him. ‘And I you, Connie.’
She looked up at him. ‘We can be a proper family now.’
He nodded and dropped a brotherly kiss on her forehead. ‘We can. Now I have one small welcome present for you.’
He fished in his jacket and pulled out a long, flat box and handed it to her. She took the box, turning it over in her hands.
‘Open it,’ he urged.
She unclasped the lid, revealing a delicate string of pearls with a diamond clasp and matching pearl earrings. A simple bit of jewellery, but, for a girl who had only her mother’s wedding ring, it meant the world.
She kissed him again. ‘You are the best of brothers,’ she said.
He held out his arm. ‘Come and take tea in the blue parlour and then I will show you the rest of the house.’