Chapter Two
"It’s so kind of you to come," Grandmamma said when Constance entered the parlour of her Northumberland home.
It was called a cottage, but it was certainly far grander than most cottages.
After all, Grandmamma was a dowager countess, and although she had chosen to live rurally, she was not short of money.
"But I really didn’t mean for you to miss the entire Season," she added.
"I’m happy to do it," Constance said, sitting down and removing her hat. "I hate thinking of you lonely, Grandmamma – and especially in a part of the country I love so much. I assure you, it will be no hardship to spend the Season here."
"Well, I’m very glad to have you here, but you shouldn’t shun all society, not at your age."
"I’d be very happy to live in Northumberland and not have to spend the Season in London, I can assure you."
Her grandmother tutted and rang a little bell to call for the butler.
"You are young, my dear. You may not love society, but you want to find a husband. And that’s not likely, hidden away up here.
Ah, James – could we have some tea, please, and could you see that Lady Constance is made aware of where her room is, so that she might unpack? "
"Of course, my lady," the butler said with a bow of his head.
"I am an old lady," her grandmother said, as though she had not been interrupted. "I’ve been married, had children, and grandchildren – and so a little solitude is not going to cause me any problems. But you mustn’t hide away all your life, my dear."
"Yes, Grandmamma," Constance said, not wanting an argument. "But for now, I’m here – and I’m keen to do whatever it is that you wish for us to do."
"It will be a joy to have you sitting across from me at the dinner table, my dear. And there are one or two social calls it might be nice to pay. Of course, I know you love your castles – you’ll have plenty of time to go exploring, too."
Constance beamed. "Thank you, Grandmamma. When we last came up here, I was lucky enough to see a few – but there are some I didn’t get to visit, and I have always regretted it."
"Blackthorne is supposed to be beautiful," Grandmamma said. "But you went there, didn’t you?"
"We did – and made friends with the duchess there, so I intend to go and visit her. And not just to see the castle," she added with a laugh.
"There are some others I’ve heard of that you might like to visit.
Amblewood – I’ve met the lord and lady who live there, so I can get you an introduction.
Their daughter married a duke over the border in Scotland, but she comes back regularly.
You might get to meet her – she’s probably your age.
And then there’s Gracewood – it’s a little further out, but I heard that it was abandoned.
The old earl who lived in it left, according to a friend of mine, and the place is falling into ruin. "
"That’s sad."
"It is. And he left after the death of his wife, apparently – so it seems a sad place all round."
"Well, I daresay I will find time to go and see it. I don’t believe I’ve read about that one. But first, how are you finding Northumberland? Is it everything you hoped it would be?"
"I know everyone thinks I’m a fool, to have moved so far away at my age.
But I used to visit here as a girl, you know, and I love it.
It’s everything I’d imagined it would be – beautiful, tranquil, quiet.
I regret that it’s so far from you and Charity, of course, and that son of mine.
But other than that, it feels like the perfect place to spend my final years. "
◆◆◆
Ezra declined the invitation to Lady Portbury’s ball, but he did promise his mother he would attend one later in the month, if she truly wished him to. And it seemed she did – as long as he shaved off that wretched beard.
So he had agreed that the beard would go – but there was no need for that until closer to the ball, certainly.
He knew his mother only had his best interests at heart, but he couldn’t help feeling irritated.
He had done everything he was supposed to – married at a fairly young age, to an appropriate woman who everyone was sure would make the perfect countess.
And then she had become pregnant quickly, with what they all hoped would be a son and heir.
And then everything had gone so terribly wrong. The child had been a boy, but he had not survived – and neither had Laura.
And so now he didn’t much feel like doing things the way one was supposed to. He didn’t think he would get any joy from going to a ball, so he had not done so in years.
But when he had finally agreed to go, his mother had looked so pleased that he felt a little guilty for having refused for so many years. It wouldn’t hurt him to attend, he supposed – and it would be nice to make her happy.
He sat at his desk and caught up on his correspondence, occasionally looking out over the fields which went on for miles.
They were farmed by a fairly competent man, but he knew more could be done, if he only had the interest to push forward change.
But since Laura had died, he had just let things be – ticking along; not a problem, but never changing, never moving forward.
He paused for a moment, thinking he heard the front door creaking, but then returned to his letter. He supposed it would be Soames answering the door to a passing salesman, or simply airing the castle. Or maybe it was just the wind. They didn’t really get visitors here.
Then he jumped as he definitely heard a door banging – and this time an internal one.
With only him in the house, the servants were normally done with their cleaning well before this hour, and so the only sound above stairs was usually when it was time to serve dinner – which was still another two hours off.
Curious, he opened the door and stood in the hallway, looking up and down to see if he could determine where the noise was coming from.
The place was draughty, but the doors were heavy, and unless they were in a storm – which they most certainly were not – he would not have expected to hear so much noise.
At the sound of a cough, he turned his head, and was startled to see a woman dressed in a blue travelling cloak, her hair pinned haphazardly out of her face, her skirt hem trailing along the floor.
"Oh!" she exclaimed at the sight of him. "I’m sorry, I thought—"
"Who are you?" he growled, when the surprise had worn off enough to let him speak. "What are you doing here?"
She was a plain-looking woman, not poor enough to be a vagrant, certainly, and she had no business being in his castle. Uninvited. And no one was ever invited here.
"I’m sorry," she said again. "I was told the place was abandoned. I didn’t mean to—"
"Get out," Ezra ordered, taking a step towards her. "Get out of my house and don’t ever come back!"