Chapter 8
Normanton House, later that same day
Footsteps sounded on the stairs as Dee entered the Normanton House foyer.
“Ah, it is Lady Deoiridh Aitken.” Lady Somerville said. “Permit me to introduce you.”
To avoid a collision, Dee halted and looked up.
“No.” She breathed the word. One hand went protectively to her chest. Looking at her was an all too familiar face. However, instead of formal court attire he wore a light brown wig and excessively simple brown clothing. Wide with feigned curiosity, his brown eyes, sparkled.
What is Barbeau up to?
Lady Somerville performed the introductions, adding that, “Lady Deoiridh’s mother is visiting us also, I will introduce you after luncheon.
“I gather she is a French woman and has spent time in the Bourbon court.” His English was perfect, bearing no sign of years in France. “I look forward to meeting her.”
Luncheon was announced.
“Ladies,” Barbeau said. “May I escort you in?”
Dee must think of him as Froppin until she could tell Fontus and the Somervilles the truth.
Common courtesy forced her to accept the unwanted escort. Unlike Lady Somerville, who had grasped the offered elbow, Dee placed her hand very lightly on his arm.
He had the audacity to move her hand himself from his arm to the crook of his elbow compelling a more intimate contact.
She wanted to toss his arm back at him, rush to her rooms, and scrub clean the skin beneath the sleeve of her dress. She might even burn the dress.
As soon as they entered the Grand Salon, Lady Somerville aimed for her husband, pulling Froppin with her. “Sir Peter asked me to seat you at his left, so you might discuss political matters easily.”
“Of course, Lady Somerville. I am delighted to assist him.”
Dee excused herself and joined her mother speaking with several other guests.
Mother and daughter exchanged warm greetings.
“We were discussing the local highwayman…” Robin said.
“The man who just entered the room with you and Lady Somerville, is he the Quaker gentleman?” her mother asked. A puzzled frown crossed her face. “He seems vaguely familiar.”
“You’ve met him.”
“Really, I do not recall knowing any members of the Society of Friends.”
Dee looked at Robin, uncertain how to proceed.
“If you will excuse me…” he said.
“No, please. It is important that you know who Mr. Froppin really is. We must also inform Sir Peter and Lady Somerville.”
Robin tilted his head. “Froppin is not who he claims?”
“No,” Dee replied. “He is Monsieur Aristide Barbeau. He trades in lies and deception.”
“I believe Fontus mentioned him to me, though I cannot recall the details. Why do you think he has come here?”
“He is here because he wishes to marry my fortune,” Dee stated.
“But…” Robin halted. “I will certainly warn my brother and his wife that the man is a threat and not to be trusted.”
“Thank you,” Lady Aitken said.
“I am safe enough when I am not alone.” Dee explained. “He has always done his dirty work in the shadows, far from prying eyes and listening ears.”
“No doubt you are correct, Lady Deoiridh,” Robin said. “However, I prefer to take precautions rather than regret not doing so.”
“I agree and established my own safeguards at the cottage.”
“That may not be good enough, daughter. I shall feel more comfortable if you moved to Normanton House while Barbeau is here.”
“I don’t think that is…”
“A capital idea,” Robin enthused.
“I’d rather not inconvenience Lady Somerville,” Dee said. She had no wish to live so close to her mother, not until the marriage to Fontus was resolved.
“No inconvenience. In fact, it may solve a problem,” Robin admitted.
“How so?” Dee inquired.
“With Froppin’s arrival, some of the guests may be forced to share quarters. If Lord Fontus and I remove to the cottage, that will free up two bed chambers.”
Dee bit her lower lip but remained silent.
“What of my daughter’s safety? Your absence will give Barbeau greater opportunity to accost her.”
Dee agreed.
“Not if she is always in company,” Robin stated. “You did suggest he acts in secret. In addition, we will alert the staff and keep a footman on watch near your rooms.”
“Very well,” Dee nodded. “Let us speak with Sir Peter Somerville together. Can you arrange that?”
“Certainly. We value friends highly. I am certain my brother will wish to ensure your safety.”
Dee spent the afternoon discussing Pliny with Lady Beatrix. The meeting with the Somervilles followed. She was pleased to see Fontus there. Silence reigned for a few moments after she finished explaining, and Robin proposed his plans.
“I think my brother’s ideas are good,” Sir Peter said.
“We should waste no time removing Lady Deoiridh to another location,” Fontus insisted.
“No. The man will simply believe he is found out. He will go to ground, and we may not be able to prevent an attack.” Robin pointed out.
“Could you not arrest him now and put him in jail?” Lady Somerville asked.
“On what grounds, my dear,” her husband replied. “This is England. People are not imprisoned without cause.”
“Lady Deoiridh’s safety is sufficient cause, as I see it.”
“An excellent point, Sister,” Robin soothed. “However, the need for caution is not evidence of a crime. The law prevents imprisonment simply on the basis of threat or suspicion.”
“I agree with Sir Peter and Robin,” Deoiridh said. “Barbeau’s arrest and imprisonment must be accomplished with legal means, to be permanent. However, until we achieve that, I shall never go anywhere alone.”
“Not sufficient,” Fontus muttered.
“It must do,” Somerville said. “For now.”
As they left Sir Peter’s study to dress for dinner, Fontus pulled Dee aside. “We can leave immediately if you like?”
“No, not only would it be discourteous, but I want Barbeau to be removed from my life before I go anywhere. Staying here is my best chance of that.”
“Very well, all shall be as you wish,” Fontus agreed.
She could tell he wasn’t happy, but this was her life and her problem.
She needed to be the one to resolve it. To do that she required some idea of what Barbeau might do.
She could speak with him directly, though she doubted he would tell her much.
Perhaps Greta could question his servants under a guise of friendship.
* * *
The house party continued for the next week or so, with no response from Lovis. It wasn’t like the duke to remain silent, especially where his plans were involved.
“Looking forward to making a special announcement at the ball,” Sandrow had said, one afternoon when he and Fontus happened to be observing the activities. “M’daughter’s not said a word about your proposal. You asked her?” His stare stabbed Fontus in his conscience.
“We are still becoming comfortable with one another.”
“Comfort can come after the bedding,” the man snapped. “I won’t wait much longer. Get to it.” Sandrow walked away.
Fontus wished Lovis would act. However, his concern over Barbeau’s intentions toward Dee bothered him more. When would the man make his move?
One unusually warm day, Lady Somerville informed her guests they would be having a picnic on the ridge where he and Dee had taken their ride.
Most of the men rode, along with Dee and her mother. Froppin had chosen to drive his own curricle. Rather pretentious for a member of the Society of Friends. Barbeau must not know as much as he imagined about that group.
What other mistakes might he make?
Once they arrived at the picnic site, luncheon was served immediately.
In between bites of chicken and glasses of wine, Sandrow made pronouncements disagreeing loudly with current political and economic policies. Few of the diners replied. Those to either side of him made polite murmurs, but no one would give the man the argument he appeared to wish for.
As to Froppin, Barbeau paid court to the Danvers ladies, letting them rattle on about the latest on dits while he surveyed the rest of the party.
What is he looking for?
After the meal, they dispersed, some to sit on blankets under shady trees, others to wander, admiring the various views. Still others simply stood about talking.
Fontus settled his ladies on a blanket.
“Are you certain you do not wish to marry?” His wife was asking Lady Beatrix.
“Most definitely. I’ve no need of a husband, who will do little but forbid me my small pleasures, and most likely take on a mistress while he gambles away my fortune.
My father will leave me in very comfortable circumstances when he passes.
He is not a person to leave money to charities or distant relatives. ”
“Meanwhile, you are forced to live with him, cater to his preferences, and submit to his restrictions,” Fontus commented.
“I know little different. My mother died before I had my come out. For the most part Father ignored me until after….” The lady looked stricken.
Fontus had been glad when she forgave his part in her brother’s death. Now, she was blaming him, inadvertently, for the misery of her life since then.
“You and Lord Sandrow must join Fontus and myself at Leigh Chase,” Dee said.
“However, my stay there will be short. Why don’t you come with me when I leave?
You can tell your father you are visiting a friend to help her settle into a new home.
You may stay as long as you like. Indefinitely, in fact.
I shall live quietly, but if you want to travel, you may do so and always return to me rather than your father. ”
She assumed Fontus’s claim that Lovis would help was the truth. He could not know for sure. However, Lovis did not tolerate cruelty, and any marriage between Fontus and Lady Beatrix promised multiple miseries.
“That’s a splendid idea,” Fontus said. If he and Dee dissolved their marriage—and he prayed that would never happen—having someone stay with her would ease his mind considerably.
“I don’t know.” Lady Beatrix dithered.
“You need not decide right now. We’ve several days before the party ends,” Dee said. “I will ask your father for your company while we travel to Leigh Chase, so we can come to know each other better.”
Lady Beatrix smiled. “I should be able to decide by the time we arrive there.”
“Wonderful. I want to go for a walk. Would you care to join me, Lady Beatrix?” Dee invited.
“Yes, indeed.”
Fontus leapt to his feet and helped the ladies stand.
“Lord Fontus,” Dee’s eyes sparkled. “You need not accompany us.”
“What if I wish to?”
“I… ah…”
A ruckus on the far side of the picnic area interrupted her reply.
“I tell you, that woman should be burnt at the stake.” Sandrow shouted at the top of his lungs.
Red-faced with fury, he pointed at Lady Aitken.
“She’s worse than that Wollstonecraft woman. Flaunting her affair with the French King and saying that the Bourbon court is better than Prinny’s. Worse, she’s French and married a cursed Scot.”
About two feet away, Dee’s mother stood between their hosts and laughed.
Most of the other guests simply stared.
“Excuse me,” their host intervened.
Fontus ran to help Sir Peter Somerville.
“Monsieur Sandrow,” Lady Aitken drawled. “You act the fool, speaking of things you know nothing about.”
“Fool! Fool! You dare to call me a fool.” He rushed at Lady Aitken, arms outstretched, hands curved like talons ready to choke the life from her.
Sir Peter stepped between the two.
Lady Somerville pulled Lady Aitken away.
Somerville seized one of Sandrow’s arms, slowing him.
The earl snarled and swung at his host.
Fontus arrived in time to grab the earl’s arm before the fist could land.
Still struggling to gain control of his limbs, Sandrow turned on Fontus. “You! You are just like all the rest of them. Taking your pleasure wherever, how, and when you wish without a thought to the grief you cause.”
“Calm yourself, your lordship,” Somerville soothed. “You are overwrought. Let us help you to one of the carriages. You will be far more comfortable out of the heat.”
Sandrow stared at his host as if surprised to see him. Then he looked across to where Beatrix stood beside Dee.
His daughter’s head hung in shame for her father’s behavior.
His brow furrowed, and doubt filled his eyes.
“Overwrought? I’m not…ah…yes. Yes. Thank you, Somerville, I believe the sun has been too much for me.”
Together, Fontus and Somerville walked with Sandrow to a coach.
Robin appeared at Somerville’s side. “Peter, your wife said you needed me.”
“Yes, go find one of the coachmen. Lord Sandrow is ill and needs to return to the house.”
“Certainly.”
The coachman was fetched.
“Perhaps I should go with the earl,” Robin suggested after Sandrow had been loaded into the coach. That man sat slumped on the forward-facing seat. His cheek pressed against the coach wall, he snored. “I can see to his comfort in your stead, brother. You are needed here.”
Somerville hesitated only a moment. “Thank you, Robin.”
“I’ll see you later then, my friend,” Fontus said to the younger Somerville.
Back in the picnic area, Fontus found Ladies Deoiridh and Beatrix returning from their stroll.
“Did you enjoy your walk?” he asked.
“Very much so,” Lady Beatrix enthused.
When everyone was ready to return to the house, the sun was low in the sky.
“Have you seen my mother?” Dee asked of Lady Somerville as coaches were being brought round along with mounts for those who rode.
“No, although I received a note from her saying she wished to return to the house early. Her horse and one of the grooms are gone.”
“She’s probably soaking in a hot bath. The out of doors is not her favorite venue.”