chapter Ten
While Jane reclined against a bank of pillows and sleepily watched her baby taking its first, tentative feed, Susannah summoned Bessie to help clear up, then she went to tell Violet and Lizzie that all was well. The hour was advanced by the time she made her way downstairs once more and there was no sign of the viscount in the parlour. She followed the rumble of voices through to the kitchen, where she stopped in the doorway, staring in amazement.
A black range had been installed in the huge fireplace and the viscount was standing before it, stirring the contents of a saucepan. He had removed his jacket, rolled back his voluminous shirt sleeves and tied an apron over his pristine white waistcoat. He glanced round.
‘Ah, you are come down at last. Do come in and shut the door. Bessie told me the news. How are your patients?’
Susannah smiled at the term.
‘They are not my patients. I did very little, and we still need the midwife or a doctor to visit them as soon as the weather improves. But for now mother and baby are both well and resting.’ She looked towards the scullery, where Bessie was cleaning dishes. ‘You have had dinner, then. I am glad.’
‘There was a leg of mutton in the meat safe, so I have made collops for everyone.’ He reached for a frying pan and settled it over the fire. ‘Bessie and the ladies above stairs have already dined, but I was waiting for you to come down so that I could cook yours fresh for you.’
‘Oh, but there is no need, I am so tired, a little soup will do...’
‘Nonsense, you need to eat.’ He came across and took her arm, guiding her to the cook’s armchair at the head of the table. ‘Sit down there and do not move, save to drink the glass of wine I have poured for you.’
She gave a shaky laugh. ‘I do not think I could move if I wanted to, I am quite worn out.’
Outside the wind was buffeting the house and hurling icy pellets against the windows, but the kitchen was warm and comfortable, and Susannah was content to sit back and relax. She watched, entranced, as the viscount moved around the kitchen with all the assurance of an accomplished chef. Bessie, too, was completely at home, pottering between the kitchen and the scullery, responding to his instructions as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be directed by a peer of the realm.
‘I did not realise how hungry I had become,’ murmured Susannah as the viscount slid a plate in front of her.
‘No, you have been far too busy.’ He brought his own plate to the table, along with his glass and the decanter of wine. Before he sat down he went to the scullery.
‘If you have finished those dishes you may go to bed, Bessie. The rest can wait until the morning.’
‘Very good, m’lud. Goodnight, ma’am.’ The scullery maid bobbed an awkward curtsy and hurried away. Susannah stared after her, shaking her head.
‘I am amazed. You have fed everyone, with only Bessie to help you?’
‘I have indeed. Her understanding is not great, but knowing everyone else was occupied upstairs, she was only too willing to help where she could. She showed me where to find everything, including Mrs Gifford’s secret store of wine and cider, something I understand she did not share with Mrs Jennings! I hope you don’t mind, but I used almost a whole bottle of claret to make the sauce for the collops.’
‘Violet told me Bessie had brought them dinner, but she did not say... that is, I thought she had served them up a little bread and ham.’
‘Oh, I think we did better than that.’ Meeting her wondering gaze, he laughed. ‘I had an eccentric uncle. When we were younger, my twin and I used to stay with him at his hunting lodge in Leicester, where we would fend for ourselves. We would hunt and fish and cook whatever we could find. My uncle was firmly of the opinion that a man should never be wholly dependent upon his servants, neither his valet nor his cook.’
‘Then I am greatly indebted to your eccentric uncle,’ she replied, savouring the delightful combination of flavours on her plate.
He grinned as he refilled their glasses. ‘You were otherwise engaged and it soon became clear to me that if I did not do something we would be obliged to call in old Daniel to feed everyone.’
‘You did very well. I am impressed by your abilities, my lord.’
‘As I am with yours. Not many ladies of my acquaintance could have taken on the role of midwife.’
‘And I am convinced no other gentleman of my acquaintance could have taken on the role of cook,’ she replied, smiling.
He lifted his glass.
‘Perhaps we should congratulate ourselves, then.’
She raised her own, meeting his eyes with a shy smile. All the old enmities were forgotten, for now.
The meal was delicious and she could not help comparing it with the elaborate dinner he had given her the previous evening. Then he had been aiming to impress and she had been far too anxious to enjoy it but now, this simple meal served in such lowly surroundings was by far the best thing she had ever tasted.
Better a dinner of herbs...
The old proverb came to mind but she banished it quickly lest it spoil the comfortable atmosphere they were sharing.
* * *
By the time they had finished their meal the kitchen fire was dying and the cold was beginning to creep back into the high-ceilinged room. Susannah pushed her plate away and gave a little shiver.
‘Let us move to the parlour,’ suggested Jasper, putting on his coat. ‘I left the fire banked up in there. Unless, that is, you would like to retire to your room?’
It was at that point Susannah realised that in all the confusion she had made no provision for herself, or the viscount. With so much of the house uninhabitable due to the leaking roof and the unsafe chimney stack, it would not be easy to find two free bedchambers. She decided she would think about that later. For now the lure of a warm fire was much more seductive.
* * *
After the cavernous kitchen the parlour was snug and welcoming. The viscount used a taper to light a single branched candlestick while Susannah went to the window.
‘The snow is still falling,’ she said. ‘I do not think I can ask Lucas to make another attempt to reach Priston until the morning.’
The viscount was bending over the fire, stirring the coals into a blaze.
‘I agree. As soon as it is light we can send them out again.’
‘We? I should have thought you would be anxious to return to Bath, my lord.’
‘Not until I know all is well here.’
‘That is not necessary...’
She trailed off as he regarded her, one dark brow raised.
‘You cannot be nurse, housekeeper and cook, Miss Prentess, and from what I have seen of the other inhabitants of this property they are all incapable of helping you, for one reason or another.’
‘It grieves me, but I have to agree with you.’ She sank down on to a chair, trying not to sound too disheartened. ‘Both Lizzie and Jane have young babies to look after, and Violet is quite unused to nursing or domestic work of any kind.’
‘And your scullery maid, willing as she is, can only work under instruction.’ The viscount pulled the spindle-legged sofa closer to the fire and sat down. ‘Tomorrow we will send Morton and your footman to Priston with instructions to fetch the midwife and try if they can to find a good woman who is prepared to live here and run the house until your own housekeeper returns.’ He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to speak. ‘Please do not argue. If that fails, as soon as the road is clear, Morton shall drive into Bath and find a suitable female through the registry office.’
‘You seem to have thought of everything, my lord.’
‘I know very well that you will not leave here until you know your guests are provided for.’
‘True.’
‘Then if we have settled that point, perhaps it is time we retired.’
‘Ah. That might be a slight problem.’ Susannah stared at her hands clasped in her lap. ‘I did not think to have Bessie prepare rooms for us. I imagine Mrs Gifford’s room will be usable, but the other three bedrooms in this part of the house are already occupied by the young ladies. If I had thought of it earlier I would have had a truckle bed made up in Violet’s room for myself—’
‘Out of the question. I shall sleep here on the sofa.’
She sighed with relief.
‘That is very good of you. I will go and find you some blankets.’
‘Not necessary,’ he said. ‘The fire and my driving coat will suffice to keep me warm.’
With a chuckle she rose and went to the door.
‘Oh, no, I must show some respect for your position, Lord Markham.’
The corners of his mouth lifted.
‘Why change now, Miss Prentess? So far in our acquaintance you have shown no regard for my position at all!’
With a laugh gurgling in her throat she whisked herself out of the room, returning a few minutes later with blankets and a pillow.
‘Brrr, it is cold once you step outside this room,’ she said, putting the bedding down on a chair. ‘I looked in on the others while I was upstairs; everyone is sleeping peacefully, even the new mother and baby.’ Jasper was kneeling by the hearth, stirring the contents of a large pewter jug. ‘Cooking again, my lord?’
‘Mulled cider,’ he said. ‘Watch.’
He pulled the poker out of the fire and carefully lowered the red-hot tip into the jug where it sizzled and hissed, sending a spicy aroma into the air. Susannah breathed it in, appreciating the scent of apples and spices. He filled two rummers with the fragrant, steaming liquid and held one out to her.
‘Perhaps you would join me?’
Susannah knew she should retire, but she had peeped into Mrs Gifford’s bedchamber. It was cold and unwelcoming, with no cheerful fire burning. She was loath to return to it, so she accepted the glass and sat down beside him on the sofa. They were enveloped in the warm glow from the fire and Susannah found the dancing flames strangely soothing
‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked him suddenly.
‘I told you, my eccentric uncle...’
‘No, I mean, why did you stay here today, why are you showing such kindness to me? After last night...’
He waved one hand, the heavy gold signet ring glinting as it caught the firelight.
‘Last night I thought you were leading Gerald astray. I did not know he was a party to all this. Silly cawker, why did he not tell me?’
‘Pray do not blame Gerald, I made him swear to tell no one.’
He said quietly, ‘That was almost your undoing.’
She felt the colour stealing into her cheeks, and it had little to do with the cider. She thought it best to keep silent and after a moment he continued.
‘This place must be very important to you, to risk coming out on such a day.’
‘It is.’
‘More than just charitable goodwill, I think. I noticed the new sign as we came in. Have you changed the house name? Was that your idea, or Mrs Logan’s?’
The cider was dispelling the chill inside, just as the fire was warming her skin. She felt very mellow, and comfortable enough for confidences.
‘Mine.’
‘Will you not tell me?’ His voice was gentle. ‘Who was Florence?’
‘She was my sister.’
Jasper caught his breath. At last she was prepared to tell him the truth.
‘Was?’
He waited while she sipped at her drink. She was staring into the fire, a faraway look in her eyes.
‘She died five years ago.’
‘I am very sorry.’ Instinctively he reached out and covered her hand. She did not draw it away. ‘Will you tell me about it?’
She sat up a little straighter but she kept her eyes on the fire, as if reading her words in the flames.
‘When my father died in Gibraltar we—my mother, sister and I—went to live with his sister in London. My aunt was a strict Evangelical and when my mother died of the fever a year later we were left to her care. Our family was not rich, but respectable enough, and very soon after my mother’s death my sister Florence was courted by a young man who promised to marry her.
‘He was very dashing and handsome, a very fashionable beau and Florence believed his promises enough to...’ He felt the little hand tremble in his. ‘He disappeared, leaving her pregnant. When my aunt learned that Florence was with child she threw her out of the house. I was forbidden ever to see her again. I smuggled money and food to Florence, who managed to find lodgings nearby. My aunt discovered what was happening and she stopped my pin-money and kept me locked in my room. I think she must also have spoken to the landlady, too, because Florence left her lodgings and I heard nothing more of her.
‘After six months my aunt thought it would be safe for me to go out alone again, and at the market one day a woman approached and told me Florence had died in childbirth a few weeks earlier. This woman was a milliner, earning appallingly little and living in the same house as Florence, close to Drury Lane. She said her landlady had a kind heart and had taken my sister in when she found her on the street. Florence would not say how she had got there, or what she had gone through, but she was very near her time so they gave her a bed and did what they could, although there was no money to pay for a midwife.
‘I went to the house where Florence died, I had to see it for myself. It was very squalid, but the landlady was a kindly soul, and it was a comfort to know Florence had not been quite alone at the end. The landlady told me there were hundreds of women like my sister, gently bred girls who were pursued and courted by fashionable men who took their virtue and then abandoned them. It is the way of the world. Neither she nor the milliner would take any money for their trouble, but they said Florence had begged them to get a message to me, to let me know what had become of her.’ Her mouth twisted and she added bitterly, ‘By that kindness they showed more mercy to my sister than her family had ever done.’
She pulled her hand free and wiped a tear from her cheek.
‘The letter from my Uncle Middlemass came soon after. If only he had come back to England a year earlier! As it is I left my aunt’s house very willingly. It was too late to help Florence, but I vowed then that I would do something to atone for her death. That is why I set up Florence House, and using the money from those arrogant rich men goes some way towards making them pay for their cruelty.’
‘Cruelty is a very strong word.’
She lifted her head.
‘Not strong enough, I think.’
‘But not all young men are cruel, Susannah. Some may be wild, yes, and thoughtless—this young man who courted Florence, you say he disappeared. Surely it is possible that he did not know of your sister’s condition, or mayhap circumstance prevented him from coming back to her.’
‘Believe me, my lord,’ she said slowly, ‘I know that man was an out-and-out scoundrel.’
* * *
In the dim light he saw a strange look flicker across her face—revulsion, horror, anger. Jasper’s brows drew together. What was it she was not telling him? Before he could frame another question she gave a tiny shake of her head.
‘This is a drear conversation when we should be celebrating having come safely through a most trying day. Is there any more of the mulled cider?’
She held out her glass
‘I do not think I should give you any more. You will accuse me of trying to befuddle you with drink.’
She laughed. ‘No, that was last night, when you were trying to seduce me. Today you have been a true friend, my lord.’
A friend. He smiled ruefully. No woman had ever called him friend before.
‘If we are friends then surely you should not be calling me my lord.’
She turned her head to give him an appraising glance from those clear hazel eyes. They twinkled now with mischief.
‘What should it be, then—viscount? Or perhaps Markham?’
His smile grew.
‘Try Jasper.’
‘Jasper.’ He liked the sound of it on her lips, the slight hesitation in her voice as she tried it out. She nodded, apparently satisfied. ‘And you must call me Susannah.’
‘Thank you.’
She leaned back on the sofa and sipped at her drink, comfortable in his company, not worrying when her shoulder brushed his.
‘No, you have been most gentlemanly—’ A giggle escaped her. ‘Perhaps that is the wrong word—I have never known a gentleman prepare a meal before. And it was delicious. The baby is safely delivered and peacefully sleeping with her mother, the other girls are resting. Did I tell you the meal was delicious, sir? All is right with the world.’
‘A good day’s work, Miss Prentess.’
‘Yes indeed.’ She smiled, and as he watched her eyelids began to close. Deftly he reached across and took the rummer from her fingers as she dropped into a deep sleep.
* * *
Susannah opened her eyes. She was lying on the sofa, her head cradled on a pillow, and she was tucked around with blankets. She shifted her head and saw the viscount stretched out in the chair opposite, his feet resting on a footstool and his many-caped driving coat thrown over him. He stirred in his chair.
‘Good morning, Miss Prentess.’
She sat up and immediately put one hand to her head as it began to pound in the most unpleasant manner.
‘I did not sleep in Mrs Gifford’s bed, then.’
‘I did not like to disturb you.’
‘I brought this bedding downstairs for you...’
‘There was plenty for two.’ He rose, throwing off the coat and the blanket beneath it. His hair was a little tousled and stubble shadowed his cheeks, but she thought he looked remarkably well after spending the night in an armchair. ‘I shall see if Bessie has built up the fire in the kitchen. I think we should have some coffee.’
Susannah said nothing as he went out. She remembered sitting here last night, talking to him. She remembered drinking the cider but then...nothing. She looked down. She was still fully dressed, neither she nor anyone else had made any attempt to disrobe her. Her hand crept to her neck. She had been alone, asleep and in the company of a strange man—a nobleman, moreover, with a reputation for breaking hearts—and he had made no attempt upon her honour. In fact, he had given her his own pillow and wrapped her in the blankets she had brought down for his comfort.
She stood up and was relieved to find her head did not feel any worse for the effort. Walking to the window, she drew back the curtains to let in the morning light. It was still early and the sun had not yet risen but its effects could be seen in the clear blue sky with its scattering of blush-pink clouds. A movement caught her eye and she saw Jasper step out on to the drive.
When had she begun to think of him as Jasper? A memory surfaced. She recalled declaring that they were friends now. With a groan she put her head in her hands. Had she been drunk last night? What else had she said to him? She raised her head to watch him striding towards the stables. He was hatless, his thick black hair gleaming and he moved with an easy grace that made her pulse stir. Quickly she turned away from the window. It was madness to think of a man in that way. It was frightening.
She bundled up the bedding and carried it upstairs, taking the time to wash her face and hands and re-pin her hair before returning to the parlour, where she busied herself relighting the fire. She wanted the coffee Jasper had promised and he did not disappoint her. He entered with a tray balanced on one hand and looking so assured that she laughed.
‘You add the accomplishments of a waiter to your many skills, my lord.’
‘Obviously a misspent youth.’ He put the tray down on the small dining table and held out a chair for her. ‘I’m afraid there are no fresh-baked muffins but there is some toast, if you would care for it.’
She joined him at the table and helped herself to a piece of toast while Jasper poured coffee for them both.
‘I suggested Morton and your menservants should take the shovels and try to force a path to drive the carriage to the village. I think you would like the midwife to come here as soon as possible?’
‘Yes, thank you. I did check on Jane. She and the baby are well but I shall be happier once the midwife has seen them.’
‘Of course. I have given instruction that if the midwife is not available then they must bring the doctor.’
She murmured her thanks, once more shaken by his kindness.
* * *
Susannah was relieved to feel a little better once she had broken her fast and the rest of the morning passed quickly. She coaxed Violet Anstruther down to the kitchen and showed her how to prepare breakfast for the others, then she busied herself with household duties until the noise and bustle at the front door heralded the arrival of the midwife. She was accompanied by a cheerful-looking woman who introduced herself as Mrs Ibbotson and said she had come about the position of housekeeper.
‘I am a widow, you see, Miss Prentess,’ she explained, when Susannah took her aside to interview her. ‘All my children have flown the nest, so there is nothing I would enjoy more than to be looking after the young ladies until Mrs Gifford returns. The viscount’s man told me what is expected and a few extra shillings is always welcome. I took the liberty of bringing a bag with me in the hope that you would agree to me starting immediately, which I am free to do.’
With a recommendation from the midwife and Bessie’s statement that she had known Mrs Ibbotson for many years and knew her to keep an excellent house, Susannah felt it safe to think of returning to Bath.
‘The men say the main road is passable,’ Jasper informed her. ‘I will follow you in my curricle, to make sure you come to no harm.’
‘Pho, I have my coachman and footman to look after me, I shall be safe enough,’ she declared, but she was pleased to know he would be there, all the same.
Suddenly it was time to go. Susannah said goodbye to the girls, forbade any of them to come outside to see her off and found herself being handed into her waiting carriage by the viscount.
‘I will take another route once we reach Bath,’ he announced. ‘There may be talk.’
‘I suspect the weather is providing the Bath residents with plenty to discuss for the moment.’
‘Nevertheless, we should avoid giving them fuel for gossip.’ He stood back as the servant put up the steps and closed the door. ‘It may be best if we do not meet for a few days, just to be on the safe side. You may rely upon me to say nothing of Florence House, or of our being here together.’
‘Thank you.’ It was too soon, there was more she wanted to say, but she had to content herself with a small wave. Jasper raised his hand in salute and was lost to sight as the carriage pulled away.