Chapter Fifteen
Louisa stared out of her bedroom window at the garden below, assuring herself that it was still as she remembered it.
A day or two without tending it was not going to make a difference.
Even a week was not likely to matter, especially if she took a few minutes during her morning walk to pinch off the dead buds of flowers as she was passing them.
But much more time than that and it would begin the downward slide her grandfather was hoping for. She was not sure if she could stand watching that. It had been the only thing to make her life bearable here. What would she do if it was gone?
She still hoped it would not come to that.
She’d sent Webb to the inn to find Thomas and Percy, but several days had passed with no sign of them arriving to rescue her.
She’d assumed it had been Thomas who had tried to interrupt breakfast, on the first day, but had not actually seen him.
She could not blame the servants for keeping him out.
They were only obeying Grandfather, just as she’d done when she’d fired Webb.
But it was maddening to be here alone, with no idea what he might be thinking, after what they had done and the way they’d parted.
If there was a new plan in place to help her get away, no one had given her any clue what it might be. The original idea seemed even more mad in retrospect, and she was not surprised it had failed. If she was as clever as Thomas seemed to think, she’d have been better off finding her own way out.
She turned away from the window and glanced in the mirror, making sure that her dress was immaculate and no hair was out of place before she went downstairs to breakfast. Grandfather would criticise her, in any case.
But there was no reason to give him additional cause, nor did she want him to think his abuse was affecting her.
She walked down to the ground floor via the main stairs, head held high and an impassive expression on her face. She entered the dining room and took her place without acknowledging her grandfather, who was at the table head going through the morning’s post.
As she helped herself to a full plate with eggs and ham, and toast with marmalade, the rattling of letters became louder, as if the man holding them was growing increasingly annoyed.
‘You eat too much,’ he said finally.
‘I will get fat,’ she said, placidly.
She took a second slice of toast knowing it would irritate him even more.
This was the way Percy had been responding to Grandfather’s taunts for years. Why had she never tried it before? It was surprisingly satisfying to fight him in these little ways. It also meant she left the meal satisfied. His other insults were easier to take when she was not constantly hungry.
‘I think I shall tell the cook to forego the morning meal,’ he said, still watching her. ‘It really is a gluttony to have so many full meals prepared when we can subsist on much less.’
‘As you wish,’ she said, finishing her eggs. ‘If I require more than tea, I am perfectly capable of going below stairs and eating with the servants.’
This was met with silence, as he tried to decide if the satisfaction of depriving her of food was worth the embarrassment of her joining the staff in the kitchen. ‘Perhaps not,’ he said at last.
She resisted the urge to smile. It would not do to take too much pleasure in these small victories. If she was truly alone, the battle would be long and hard. She would save her celebration until the end.
There was a knock at the door.
She ignored it. Let the person on the other side take all the disappointment. She could not spare the energy to shoulder it herself.
She hadn’t expected the butler to appear in the doorway a moment later, looking as nervous as she’d ever seen him. ‘My lord, there is a visitor.’ He paused, as if not sure how to proceed.
‘I told you we are not receiving,’ her grandfather snapped, prepared to take his irritation out on the servant.
‘It is the Duke of Bonham, my lord.’ He held out a salver with a business card in the centre.
Louisa looked up from her food.
‘I did not know what to do. He was accompanied by his own footmen.’
‘Put him in the sitting room.’
‘I have already done so. He wishes to speak to you…’
‘Of course he does.’ Her grandfather rose.
‘…and Miss Louisa,’ the butler finished.
Grandfather froze. For a moment he almost looked worried. Then, his composure returned. ‘You are acquainted with him through your brother, I suppose.’
‘Of course,’ she said, giving him her old, serene smile and letting him guess at what she was hiding beneath it.
‘Let us go, then.’
She got up and followed him to the sitting room, walking past him when they got to the door and going straight to her usual chair. As she turned to sit, she paused for a moment to savour the sight of the man she’d been longing for.
He did not disappoint her. The person who had come to her today was not Tom Smith the farmer, or the man she’d known in London as her brother’s friend. He was not even the romantic rescuer who’d kissed her just a few days ago.
Today, Thomas Carew looked as he did in her dreams, so elegant that it almost hurt to gaze on him.
He was clean shaven, for one thing. There were no nicks or rough patches where he’d done a less than perfect job while staring at his reflection in a clouded inn mirror.
His hair was freshly trimmed as well. Clearly, he had summoned his valet.
His coat was the colour of rich claret, the superfine wool fitting like a second skin over his broad shoulders.
His shirt was a blinding white and his cravat tied in a deceptively simple knot that was held in place by a pigeon’s blood ruby the size of a penny.
The buttons on his coat and breeches were silver.
His watchchain was thick and gold, ending in another ruby.
The ducal signet ring was back, heavy and freshly polished.
When she had seen him in London, she’d known he was a duke and been dazzled, though he’d smiled and tried to put her at ease. But today, he had come prepared to intimidate and held back none of his power.
He had come to claim her, with all the splendour he could muster.
‘Hello, Your Grace,’ she said with a deep curtsey to tell him he’d impressed her.
‘Miss Skeffington,’ he said with a bow and smile. Then, he turned to her grandfather. ‘Lord Skeffington, I presume.’
‘Welcome, Your Grace,’ he said with an obsequious bow. ‘I assume you have come at the behest of your cousin.’
When Thomas did not immediately respond, he added, ‘Tom Smith.’
Thomas blinked.
It took barely a second, but it seemed to take for ever.
He must have assumed, as had she, that her grandfather would understand the minute they met that he’d been tricked by Thomas and the siblings.
Since he had not, the matter would have to be explained before the conversation could come round to the proposal she assumed was coming.
‘Of course,’ Thomas replied smoothly. ‘And for Miss Skeffington’s benefit, as well. I understand they wish to marry and you feel there is an impediment.’
‘He is natural born,’ her grandfather said, as if this explained everything.
That is the least of our problems.
Louisa wanted to scream it out and put a stop to this ridiculous charade. But there was still a slight chance that it could end in her favour. She reclaimed her old, false smile, pasted it on her face and waited to see what would happen.
‘A natural son from my family,’ Thomas said with a look that would have made a sensible man rush to apologise.
Her grandfather ignored it. But if he had not realised he was talking to the same man he’d thrown out of his house a few days ago, he had proved that he was not the brightest penny in the purse. It would be fun to watch Thomas destroy him. She settled into her chair to wait.
Thomas continued. ‘Mr Smith has written to request my help in obtaining your blessing for a union with Miss Skeffington.’
Grandfather laughed, a short bark of scorn that would have left Louisa shaking in her shoes a week ago. ‘I fail to see what business it is of yours.’
‘I am the head of my family, as you are of yours,’ Thomas said in a reasonable tone.
‘I am concerned for the reputation of my family and the happiness of the parties involved. From my acquaintance with her brother, I know Miss Skeffington to be a virtuous and sensible young lady. I can assure you of Mr Smith’s good character, his good intentions, his ability to provide for her future and his eagerness to make her happy.
’ He waited for her grandfather to agree.
He grunted in response.
‘Their marriage would make me happy as well,’ Thomas said, with a tone that warned them they would not want to be around him when he was unhappy. ‘I am here to see that their little story will reach a satisfying conclusion.’ He stared at Lord Skeffington, waiting.
‘Then you needn’t bother yourself, further,’ her grandfather said, and threw a sour smile in her direction. ‘I told them I have no problem with them marrying. They can do it as soon as they wish.’
‘And you will be arranging the dispersal of Miss Skeffington’s inheritance?’ Thomas queried.
‘The money will remain in the family,’ her grandfather contradicted with a scowl. ‘They did not seek my permission for the match before making it. Therefore, they do not have my approval.’
‘You were charged by her parents to give it to her, on her marriage.’
‘Her acceptable marriage,’ her grandfather countered.
‘And what did her parents deem acceptable?’ Thomas asked.
‘There were no criteria. It was left to me.’
‘Show me the will that says so,’ Thomas demanded with a cold smile.
Perhaps, if power did not work, the law might. Louisa felt a flicker of hope.
‘Do you doubt my word?’ her grandfather said, equally frostily.
‘Is there a reason to?’ Thomas did not move.