Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
The sun shone brightly, making it seem as if it were warmer than it was in actually. But it was not raining, so the tour of Tweed would carry on. Ben had told Mia as much when she’d sent a note first thing that morning inquiring about his thoughts on the matter.
Ben pushed his plate away, looking at his friends. “The carriages from Hedlund will be here soon. Are you to join us? There is little of the castle you’ve not already seen.”
Lady Stoke nodded. “I wish to go. I have not seen all the castle, and I’m certain I’ve not heard even a tenth of the stories that surround it.”
Lady Heatherton nodded. “I wish to participate as well.”
The men all nodded. “Why not? While we’ve all been here many times, I’m certain we’ve not heard all the stories. Besides, what else would we do?”
“Read a book.” The growl came from the doorway.
Ben grinned. “Rags, I did not think you’d be joining us.”
He shrugged. “Strictly speaking, I’m out of mourning, but I had planned to use the excuse as long as possible. However, my father’s widow is making me unhinged. I could not leave Maple Grove fast enough.”
“How is Her Grace bearing up?” Ben stood up and motioned to an empty seat. “Have you had breakfast?”
“She is near hysterics every moment. She seems to think I will toss her from the house any day. Which if she does not cease her ridiculousness, it may become a self-fulling prophecy.” Rags pulled out the chair and dropped into it. “I had a bit of cheese before I set out at dawn. But an egg or two would not go amiss.” He eyed the plates of food on the sideboard. “I may send her to the dower house, but I’m not so heartless as to send her away completely.”
“Your father would have,” Charlie leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps that is where her fear stems from.”
“I’m not my father,” Rags’ voice rose sharply before he sucked in a breath and pinched his lips shut.
“Then have at it.” Ben motioned to the sideboard. “And as you thought reading a book preferable to a tour of Tweed, we will not wait on you to finish eating before we start.”
He glared at Ben. “I did not say I should prefer it. I simply gave an alternative.” He loaded up his plate with bacon, eggs, cheese, and rolls. “I will hurry and eat. You need not wait for me.” He took a large bite of bread. “Where is everyone meeting?” He said around chewing. It was baffling to think that Rags was now a duke.
“In the entryway. We are just waiting for the carriages to arrive from Hedlund Hall.”
Rags stopped with his fork midway to his mouth. “It is not just to be us?” He said it in the same tone he would surely use in announcing the plague.
“It is part of the house party you were invited to but declined because you were in mourning.” Ben said dryly. “That is the reason you are all here. Or do you not remember that?”
Rags shrugged. “I had thought once we arrived and were staying here that we would not be subjected to the house party.”
Lady Heatherton folded her arms across her chest. “Hedlund is a very nice home, and Lady Amelia is a dear. I’ll not have your grumpiness spoil our time there.” She put her hands through her husband’s arm, as if implying she were speaking for them both.
Colin grinned. “Yes, Rags. I’ll not have your grumpiness ruining our stay.”
Ben sighed. “Are you to stay behind or not?”
Rags waved his fork in the air as he swallowed. “No, I’ll come along.” He said it like he was doing them a favor. A big, churlish favor.
“Lucky us,” Ponsy muttered.
Charlie clapped Rags on the shoulder as he walked past. “I, for one, am glad for your arrival. It does not feel the same when you’re not with us.”
“You mean it feels too cheerful and happy?” Stokes said wryly.
Charlie grinned. “Something like that.”
Rags rolled his eyes. “You’re all ridiculous.” He pushed his plate to the center of the table. “You see? I said you would not need to wait, and you aren’t. If only everyone in society was so punctual.”
“If only…” Colin looked at the rest of them, his head shaking.
Everybody congregated in the entryway of Tweed. As far as entries went, it was not large, but it was more spacious than Hedlund’s. Still, it was not a place everyone was eager to stand about. The Meecham sisters, who had been invited the previous evening at supper, were excitedly chatting with Miss Newsome and Lady Charlotte. Unfortunately, their mother had also joined them.
Ben sighed. Not ideal, but one could hardly uninvite the woman.
He glanced around. Perhaps Charlie had been right. It was good to see Rags. It allowed a person for everyone to dislike...gave people a common enemy. And with his new title, he was appropriately more superior than he’d been before.
Ben grinned. He was certain the dislike from most everyone would come. But from Mrs. Meecham? It would be fast and furious. A giddy flutter swirled inside Ben as his anticipation grew.
He’d feel bad for Rags if the dislike wasn’t certain to be mutual. Indeed, Ben could hardly wait for the good duke and Mrs. Meecham to be introduced. The disdain was a forgone conclusion.
Ben could not help but grin.
Mia sidled up next to him. “What are you smiling about?”
“Did you not notice Rags is here? He just arrived.”
Mia’s smile dropped. “I had not noticed.” There was anxiousness in her voice. But why should she be anxious over Rags? He was unpleasant, to be sure. But that was part of his charm.
“I was just imagining him interacting with Mrs. Meecham.”
Mia’s eyes widened. “He will not take kindly to her.”
“Nor she him.” Ben grinned even more. “Will it not be diverting? They will make each other thoroughly peevish. I can hardly stand the anticipation.”
Mia smiled, but it was not as large as Ben would have supposed. What was not to find humor in this situation?
“Everybody scoot forward. We still have a few people to bring in from the portico.” Mia waved her hands over her head, motioning people toward her.
There were more people? But who?
Lady Cornfeld, Lord Rayburton, Mr. Lymington, and Mr. Lamb squeezed in through the front door.
“When did they arrive?” he murmured to Mia.
“Mr. Lamb and Lord Rayburton arrived last night. Lady Cornfeld and Mr. Lymington arrived just after breakfast. That is why we are a little late. We waited for them to eat before we left.”
Ben nodded. Apparently, they did not eat as fast as Rags.
The only people missing from the party were Lord Grenville—the cad—and Sir Andrew and Lady Fairchild.
“I’m so excited, my lord.” Lady Charlotte sidled up to him and laced her hands around his arm. Ben glanced over to Mia, his eyes wide.
“Shags, shags,” he mouthed.
She just grinned and turned toward Miss Meecham.
Ben glared at her back. A lot of good their secret word had done him.
Lady Charlotte’s hands tightened around his bicep. It appeared he was to escort her. That was…not what he had envisioned for this outing.
Rags caught his eye and raised a brow, his mouth set in a firm line.
Ben shrugged. What was he to say? He cleared his throat loudly, trying to quiet the talking. “We will start the tour outside. If the weather takes a turn, we will take refuge inside the castle.”
He eyed the group present. It seemed he was to be escorting Lady Charlotte, but he would need to escort another lady as there were so many present. Several gentlemen would need to accompany two.
Ben reached for Mia. He was not about to let Cort have that opportunity. But he was too late. Cort already had his arm raised for her to take. Fiend seize him! What was he doing?
Vexing Ben, that’s what. But was it unintentional or on purpose? He could not understand what would be Cort’s purpose in vexing him.
He offered his arm to Lady Cornfeld. She tittered and batted her lashes at him. Ugh, she was no more desirable as a partner than Mrs. Meecham. Except Mrs. Meecham was not trying to leg-shackle her third husband as Lady Cornfeld was.
He was stuck with Lady Charlotte, who was showing too much interest in him—or at the very least Tweed. And Lady Cornfeld, a notorious flirt. It was appalling the things a widow could do that a single lady could not. At least not with her reputation intact.
Ben looked to the ceiling. If he didn’t know better, he would think this was Mia’s way of repaying him for forcing this house party on her. At least he had Lady Charlotte’s quiet voice to counter that of Lady Cornfeld.
Was he actually grateful for Lady Charlotte? Lud, this was going to be a long morning.
They started out the doors and around the side of the house.
“It’s colder than I imagined. The sun gives the impression it’s warm out today.” Lady Charlotte had to raise her voice—it was surely close to a yell for her—over the wind, gulls, and waves in the distance.
“If it’s too cold, I can return you to the house and you may rejoin us for the tour of the castle.” Has his tone been too hopeful?
She shook her head fiercely.
“I hardly feel a chill when I’m with you, my lord.” Lady Chatley purred in his ear, giving a pointed look at Lady Charlotte.
Ben rolled his eyes. Was she serious? His skin crawled at the huskiness in her voice.
He looked over his shoulder at Cort and Mia. He could land Cort a facer for putting him in this position.
Ben noted that Charlie only escorted his sister. How was he so fortunate? She was one of the most amiable ladies there. She was too timid for Ben’s liking, but he could tolerate her well enough.
He slowed his steps and allowed Chalie to come even with them. “Bancroft, I may need to escort Lady Charlotte back to the house. She is cold and I do not wish her to take ill. Would you mind escorting Lady Cornfeld?” Charlie, the most unruffled of all Ben’s friends, narrowed his eyes slightly but nodded. “Of course. Lady Cornfeld and I are old friends. Are we not, my lady?”
She let out a huff of irritation but dropped her hand from Ben’s arm, trading it for Chalie’s. “Indeed, we are.”
Ben grinned at her. “I am sure Mr. Bancroft will provide ample entertainment. And I dare not risk Lady Charlotte’s health.”
Lady Charlotte was quiet, but Ben could feel a small tremor shaking the arm she held. The lady obviously thought she had the upper hand over Lady Cornfeld. Perhaps she did, Ben conceded. He would much prefer her whispered tones to the inappropriate flirtations of Lady Cornfeld. “I do not need to return to the castle,” she whispered.
Ben sighed. “Yes, I assumed as much. But if you find the weather too unbearable, please tell me. I’ll gladly see you back.” Had he emphasized the gladly too much? Would she think him rude?
He raked a hand along the back of his neck. He was being rude. Lady Charlotte was not being improper. She was letting him know of her interest. But it was not his wish. Would it hurt her less to tell her such? Perhaps he would ask Lady Heatherton and Lady Stoke. They were ladies and might give him better information than the gents could.
Even so, he was half tempted to tell Lady Charlotte that if he had his choice, Mia would be the one on his arm right now. But he didn’t. What good would that do? It would only start rumors and make Mia furious with him.
He led Lady Charlotte over to Ponsy and the Meecham sisters. He did not know them very well. Their family had lived in the village for years before they had removed to London. But the daughters had not been among Ben’s associates. If memory served, he’d met Miss Meecham in Town during the last Season. But Miss Lucy had been a stranger until they’d been introduced the evening before.
“Miss Meecham, do you mind if we join you?” He directed his gaze to Miss Lucy.
Miss Meecham nodded to her sister, whose eyes were entirely too big for her face. Perhaps it was because she had them open so wide. “Of course, my lord.”
Ben smiled. “Good day, Miss Lucy. Are you enjoying your stay in Northumberland?”
The girl’s brow furrowed as she reached for her skirt and then seemed to realize she could not curtsy and walk at the same time. She looked up at her sister and her eyes got even bigger, though how that could be, Ben was not sure.
Miss Meecham looked pointedly at her sister and dipped her head.
Miss Lucy dipped her head and giggled.
Her sister closed her eyes momentarily. If Ben had not been watching her, he would have missed it. Miss Lucy was very young.
Ben smiled. “Have you had a Season yet?”
Miss Lucy shook her head. “The upcoming Season will be my first, my lord.” Her voice wobbled, as did her smile. She reminded him of a timid little sand martin.
“Miss Meecham, are you for London this Season also?” Ponsy asked. It took him long enough. Ben wondered if his friend needed a formal invitation to join in.
Miss Meecham nodded, her hands twisting together in front of her. It seemed she was no more at ease than her sister. “Yes, although I’m not expecting much. All of Mama’s efforts will be focused on Lucy this year.”
Ben nodded sympathetically. That was all too clear from her mother’s words last evening.
“What are you most looking forward to, Miss Lucy?” Ponsy asked.
“I, uh, I think I am most excited to have an ice at Gunther’s. I have heard they are delicious.”
Ponsy chuckled. “Indeed, they are. Although, I confess you took me by surprise. Do not most ladies anticipate the balls and Theatre?”
Miss Lucy giggled. Lud, she seemed too young for a Season. “I suppose I am not like most ladies, my lord.”
A slow smile curved Ponsy’s lips. Was that a seed of interest? Was he seriously considering the child? Ben shook it off. It was Ponsy. He was no more interested in marriage than was Ben. He was simply being attentive as any proper gentleman should.
Ben watched the girl from the corner of his eyes. Maybe Miss Lucy was not so young as she appeared. Maybe it was all a performance. If it was, then she played her part well. Maybe even too well. But her mother was likely right. She was sure to make her mark this Season.
“What about you, Miss Meecham? What does one who knows London look forward to?” Ben held her gaze.
“I, unlike my sister, am predictable because I do look forward to the Theatre.”
Ponsy nodded. “I quite agree with you. I love the country, but the society is rather limited.” He looked at Ben. “Except when one attends a party such as this.”
They walked across the inner bailey, the keep casting a shadow over the drive. As they walked toward the gatehouse, an idea struck Ben. He disentangled Lady Charlotte’s hands from his arms. “I need to move to the front to explain where we are.”
Her face fell, but Ben pushed it aside. It was not a lie. What was a tour without a guide? And he could hardly walk backward and talk with a lady on his arm.
Ponsy looked over his shoulder at the keep looming behind them. “I had nearly forgotten how imposing it is. I had thought looking on it with the eyes of an adult rather than a child, it would feel less significant.” His eyes ran up to the top of the keep and back down. “But I was wrong.”
Ben chuckled and patted him on the shoulder as he hurried to get in front of the group. “This area is called the inner bailey.” He pointed over his shoulder at the gatehouse. “And that is Maynard’s Gatehouse. Once through it, we will be in the outer bailey. In the early days of the castle, the outer bailey housed many of the tradesmen that the castle relied on. The crucial trades—those needed if the castle was under siege—would have been in the inner bailey.”
“Which trades would have been in the inner bailey?” Lady Charlotte asked.
“For example, the smithy was vital in a battle. He would be inside where he was protected from the enemy so he could continue to mend armor and swords.” Ben turned and started to walk, but he kept his stride short so he could walk next to Mia and Cort.
Mia smiled over at him when they came even. “Do you remember playing swords up on the wall-walk?” She pointed to a section of the rampart between two towers.
Ben grinned. He could not look there and not remember. Mia was almost as much a part of Tweed as he was.
Lady Cornfeld wiggled her way in between them, grasping hold of Ben’s arm. “I want to hear all the particulars of this magnificent place.” Could the woman not speak without flirtation in her tone?
Ben wished he could squirm out of her grasp, but propriety would not allow it. And then Lady Charlotte took her place on his other side. He was trapped...again.
Mia quirked a brow.
He looked at her in exasperation. “Shags, please?” He mouthed.
“Later,” she mouthed back and moved closer to Cort. “You’ve been here several times, have you not, my lord?”
Later? She had not told him of that rule when they made up their secret word. He scowled at her. Just wait until she needed rescue. He might not be inclined to offer it either.
“Oh, yes. I came home with Berwick several times when we were at Harrow and then Cambridge. I spent several Christmases here, did I not, Ben?”
Mia’s brow furrowed. “You came for Christmas? How do I not remember that? I believe we shared Christmas traditions with Tweed nearly every year.” She looked over her shoulder at Ben.
He grinned. It had taken her longer than he’d thought to make the connection. But would she be able to remember the particulars of her previous time with Cort?
Ben lengthened his stride slightly—forcing the ladies to do the same—wanting to see her expression when she figured it out. He knew Mia and knew it would not be long before she did.
She stared at Cort for a moment, then her mouth dropped open as recognition dawned. “Pray, were you not the scrawny boy who put a frog in my teacup?”
Cort’s face pinked. “Indeed, it was me. I’d rather hoped you would not remember that.”
Mia’s brows drew down. “But it was not just that. You also filled my coat pocket with slugs.” She drew herself up to her full height and quirked a brow. “It was why I stayed away from Tweed whenever I learned Ben’s friends were coming to visit.”
Ben laughed at the face she pulled at Cort.
The Ormond gate swung open, and two footmen bowed as they walked through.
“Oh, you do have an efficient staff.” Lady Cornfeld purred. “I’m rather surprised with no mistress in residence.” She squeezed his arm. Was the woman hoping to fill the position? It wouldn’t happen. He could assure her of that.
Ben shook his head. “There is a mistress of Tweed. My mother is still alive and very much involved with running the house. At present, there is no need for me to change the situation.” He spoke louder, hoping both the ladies on his arms would hear him. Was it not kinder to phrase it as such?
They stepped out onto a cobblestone path that led down toward the seashore.
Ben loved showing people Tweed. It gave him the chance to look at his home and grounds through the eyes of newcomers. It reminded him how truly fortunate he was to live in such a place—to have grown up here.
He disentangled himself from Lady Cornfeld—Lady Charlotte dropped her hand voluntarily. He turned and walked backward as he began his speech about the estate.
As he passed by Bancroft, he leaned in and whispered. “I am sorry about that with Lady Cornfeld, Charlie.”
Charlie shrugged it off.
“Tweed Castle has played an important role in this area throughout history.” He rubbed his hands together. Now the fun would begin.