A Lord In Disguise Page 2

  'I agree, Miss Bradshaw, your sisters must be introduced to local society. I have no inkling how to set about this arduous task. I am not accustomed to moving in the highest circles, I was a clerk in a London office when I heard about my inheritance.'

  She resumed her seat and waited politely for him to continue. He hated to lie to her, but had no choice. His old life was gone, there was nothing he could do to restore his fortune but he could help this family. Doing so would give him a practical purpose and prevent him from dwelling on what was lost.

  'Therefore, I suggest that you and your family move in with me as soon as the house is habitable. If Mrs Bradshaw…'

  'I beg your pardon, sir, but it is Lady Bradshaw. My father was Sir Bernard Bradshaw, of Bradshaw Manor.'

  She said this as if he was supposed to know of whom she spoke. He tried to look intelligent but from her expression had failed dismally.

  'It is I who must apologise for miscalling her. Lady Bradshaw will be sufficient chaperone to make it acceptable for the three of you to be there. Then you can take over running the house, act as my hostess, but you will not be labelled as the housekeeper.'

  'That is a most generous offer, Mr Trevelyan. I think you had better meet the other members of my family before you make a firm decision. I fear you will be getting the worst of the bargain.'

  She smiled and turned from ordinary to quite beautiful. He was shocked that he could react in this way so soon after losing the woman he loved. He was a red-blooded male and as such could hardly be castigated for noticing a desirable woman.

  He pushed such unsuitable thoughts from his head. He must find himself a mistress as soon as may be. He had given up the ladybird he had kept in luxury in London on his betrothal to Jemima. He had remained celibate since then and this must be the reason he was having lustful thoughts about this young lady.

  'If you would care to come with me I will introduce you formally to Mattie, Matilda, who is seventeen years of age and Elizabeth, known as Beth, who is a year her junior. They are both wild, behave most indecorously, but are the dearest girls, kind and intelligent and funny. My mama considers herself to be ailing, but is as hearty as I am. She has, however, a sweet nature and has never a cross word to say about anyone or anything.'

  He was amused by her summation of her family and was eager to make their acquaintance. The older of the two sisters, Matilda, he had briefly glanced and from what he had noticed she was shorter and rounder than Miss Bradshaw. She also had abundant blonde curls – again quite different from her older sister.

  Lady Bradshaw raised a languid hand from her position on the chaise longue. He saw at once where the younger girls got their looks as they were the image of their parent. She was an attractive woman for her age with not a grey hair in sight. The younger girl curtsied politely and he nodded in return.

  He cursed inwardly. He was supposed to be unfamiliar with the behaviour of society and should have offered to shake hands. Too late to repine.

  'I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, my lady, and hope I will find you in better health very soon.'

  'I thank you, Mr Trevelyan, but I am a martyr to several ailments and rarely able to get about.'

  Miss Bradshaw was unimpressed by this statement. 'Mama, Mr Trevelyan has suggested that we all move into Ravenswood when he has finished the reparations. He is unfamiliar with the ways of our world and is hoping to learn how to go on from us.'

  Her ladyship swung her legs to the floor and looked remarkably well for someone who had been ailing a moment before.

  Miss Bradshaw continued. 'Obviously, we cannot do so if you are not well enough to take your part. I am to organise the household and he will expect you to act as his hostess and be chaperone to my sisters otherwise we cannot go.'

  This was a masterly stroke and had the desired effect.

  'How long will it take to complete the repairs, Mr Trevelyan?'

  'A month, possibly a little longer, my lady.'

  'In which case, sir, I can guarantee I will be fully recovered by then. Your suggestion is acceptable to me and you will not regret it.'

  There was nothing else to say. He bowed several times and he heard the younger girl snigger. Satisfied he had made himself appear an idiot and in need of instruction in the ways of the world, he backed out as if leaving royalty.

  The sound of girlish laughter followed him and he was smiling himself when he reached the front door which had been left open.

  'That was doing it too brown, sir. You are as familiar with how to behave as I am.'

  All desire to laugh left him and he turned to face the girl who was far too observant.

  'No, do not poker up at me. I shall not ask why you are pretending to be someone you are not. As far as I'm concerned you are a godsend and I will not do anything to jeopardise our good fortune. I give you my word that I'll not reveal your secret to anyone.'

  He could do one of two things. Act the buffoon or admit she was right. He decided on the latter – it would be a relief to be himself with one person at least.

  'Thank you, Miss Bradshaw, for your discretion. I cannot tell you why I am living here or reveal my true name, but suffice it to say, to do so might well prove fatal.'

  Her eyes widened and he wished the words unspoken. She was a country girl, gently born but not versed in London society. She recovered immediately and looked over her shoulder to ensure they were private.

  'A duel in which your opponent died perhaps?'

  He did not agree nor disagree. How could she possibly have worked it out so quickly? 'We cannot discuss this here, could I prevail upon you to visit me tomorrow under the pretence of selecting fabric and such nonsense for the house?'

  'I will come alone at ten o'clock.' She flashed another of her amazing smiles. 'I fear you will be obliged to allow me to actually interfere with your refurbishment. I have excellent taste, unlike my mama, who is a slavish follower of whatever is fashionable in the ton. I promise I shall not insist on either a Chinese or Egyptian theme.'

  'I'm relieved to hear you say so, Miss Bradshaw, for I cannot abide furniture with the feet of an animal.'

  They were now on the front step. 'Please will you address me by my given name? I am Penelope, Penny to my family and close acquaintances.'

  'I should be delighted to. I am Edward, but Teddy to my family and close acquaintances.'

  To his astonishment she giggled, a most unlikely sound from someone who looked so serious. 'I shall call you Edward, sir, I cannot possibly call you Teddy as it does not suit you one jot.'

  Her eyes were sparkling and he believed he might come to like her very well when they were better acquainted. He walked back to his new abode with a spring in his step. Not only was he to have companions in his banishment but he now had someone he could be himself with.

  *

  Penny closed the door and almost skipped back to the drawing room. She had promised not to reveal what she knew to anyone but she had not agreed not to try and discover who he was. Mr Trevelyan was a gentleman, born to lead, if he had been an articled clerk then she was the Queen of Sheba.

  They could not afford a daily paper, but her bosom bow, Charlotte, was allowed to read her father's newspaper when he had done with it. If someone important had been killed in the duel then it would have been reported in the paper. Edward had been in residence a week or more so the event must have taken place a while before then.

  Mama was in high alt at the thought of moving from this draughty, damp and dismal house to somewhere almost as grand as Bradshaw Manor.

  'To think that I almost forbade you to apply for the position of housekeeper. My darling girl, you are the saviour of this family. We shall be able to live in comfort once again and it is all down to you.'

  'I must speak to all of you seriously about this. We will be living with a stranger for the sole purpose of introducing him to local society and teaching him how to behave appropriately. At any time he could send us packing, so we must all be on our best beha
viour and make ourselves indispensable.'

  'I understand perfectly, my love. From this moment on I shall make more effort to be useful. I give you my word I will not lie about all day eating sweetmeats once we are there.' Mama looked directly at the girls.

  'You two will curb your wild behaviour and behave as you should in future. You will mind what your sister says to you and practice your watercolours and playing on the pianoforte.'

  Mattie and Beth exchanged glances. 'We promise, we might be silly but we are not stupid. An opportunity like this will never come along again and we have no intention of wasting it. We will be the epitome of good behaviour from this moment on.'

  Penny laughed. 'Do not promise something none of you can fulfil. All I ask is that you do your best and do not give Mr Trevelyan cause to send us away. I am going to see Charlotte and give her the good news.'

  They didn't question this as she often walked across the fields to visit the rectory when she had finished her daily tasks.

  As she strolled through the fields listening to the birdsong she considered in more detail how their lives were going to change. In future they would be dressed appropriately, the pretty gowns in her closet could come out once more. She loved to ride – was it possible she would be able to take up this enjoyable pastime again?

  Mrs Rushton was on her way out to do good works in the neighbourhood when she arrived. 'Charlotte is helping Mr Rushton with his correspondence, but I'm sure she will be happy to see you and escape from that onerous duty.'

  'I have so much to tell her, but I won't keep her long.'

  Her friend must have seen her coming down the path and was already on the stairs waiting for them both to retire to her bedchamber where they could have some privacy.

  'Charlotte, I cannot wait to tell you what has transpired. You will not believe it.'

  Indeed, the news that they were to move to the grandest house in the neighbourhood quite silenced her normally talkative companion. When she had recovered her wits, however, she had plenty to say on the subject.

  'How serendipitous, Penny, for you and your family. I believe you will be too grand to keep up our friendship once you are installed there.'

  Although she had only known Charlotte since they had moved into the village, they had seen each other every day of the past eighteen months. 'That's fustian, and you know it. I shall be living a deal nearer to you so it will be even easier to meet.'

  For the next half an hour she was grilled about the appearance, demeanour and eligibility of Mr Trevelyan and she thought she was able to answer the questions without arousing any suspicions. It would not have done to have asked for the newspapers directly, she must not do anything out of the ordinary. A ruse had occurred to her on her walk to the rectory and she now put this into action.

  'It is so long since I have mixed in the upper echelons of local society, indeed of any society, that I am sadly out of date with what is going on. He will expect me to be au fait with all the on dits and I was wondering if your father would allow me to borrow his old newspapers?'

  'Of course he will. I shall collect them from the study when you leave.'

  Penny was already on her feet, her mission accomplished satisfactorily. 'I fear I must leave now, you have your father's correspondence to complete and I have a deal of organising to put in hand before we can transfer to our new home. I am to go there tomorrow and advise him on furnishings, fabric and paint – and I am not knowledgeable on the subject.'

  'Then I have exactly what you need. Mama has just recently been sent half a dozen copies of Ackermann's Repository. They are fairly recent publications and will have everything you need to bring you up-to-date with current fashion.'

  Charlotte also lent her a basket to put the journals and newspapers in. With this over her arm, she returned at a brisk pace eager to begin her research. She returned home expecting the house to be busy, with her sisters and mother eagerly writing lists and thinking about the benefits of this new arrangement.

  The house was silent and her heart sunk to her boots. What disaster had befallen the family now when things were finally improving?

  She put the basket down and looked in the drawing room, music room and dining room but all were empty. Gathering up her skirts she ran upstairs and immediately heard the murmur of voices coming from her mama's bedchamber.

  On pushing open the door she was shocked to find her parent in bed and actually looking extremely unwell. Her two sisters were hovering anxiously at the bedside. 'What is wrong?'

  'Mama had a bilious attack, Penny, she is much better now,' Mattie said.

  Their mother opened her eyes. 'I am sorry to alarm you, girls, it was the shock and excitement that caused my nausea. I used to have these attacks in my youth, but I thought myself immune to such unpleasantness now I am old.'

  'You are in your prime, Mama, two and forty is no great age. Mrs Rushton is older than you and has three young children in the nursery.'

  This made them all smile. 'Good heavens! You should not mention such things, my love. I shall be well tomorrow but need to sleep now. Run along, my loves, and let me rest.'

  They had no personal attendants nowadays when once they had servants aplenty. Mama had been the youngest daughter of a wealthy lord and had lived a luxurious life until they had moved here. She had never complained about being obliged to look after herself but it must have been hard for her to adjust.

  Tomorrow she would discuss such matters with Edward and suggest he should employ a personal maid for Mama as well as a valet for himself. His neckcloth had been untidy, his topcoat in need of a brush and a damp cloth. No doubt he was also unused to dressing himself.

  There was no opportunity to peruse the journals and newspapers until the house was quiet that night. As a rule they went to bed at dark to save candles, but as this was no longer essential she could stay up and read them now.

  She put the magazines to one side – she would look at them first thing in the morning before she set out. She was far more interested in discovering the identity of Mr Trevelyan. She selected the oldest copy and assiduously read through each page. There was no mention of a duel or of anybody dying from their injuries.

  The third paper she opened had what she was looking for. There was an announcement of the untimely death of one Lord Jasper Bentley. The use of this word made her scour the rest of the paper and she was rewarded by a brief article saying that one Lord Edward Stonham had been seen to flee the country after killing Lord Bentley in a duel. Could this be him? Surely it should have been more difficult to discover his identity? If she had done so, then surely the authorities would be able to find him?

  Then she considered the problem in more depth. There would hardly be a plethora of men involved in duels on any given day so it had been easy for her. However, as the paper stated that Lord Edward had fled the country presumably they would not be looking for him elsewhere. It would be far more difficult if you started at the other end of the conundrum.

  Although he acted as if he was an easy-going sort of person she rather thought he was the opposite. Would her curiosity make him retract his offer?

  Chapter Three

  Edward was sleeping in the drawing room as this was the only chamber with sound windows and no holes in the ceiling. When he had blindly said the house would be ready for habitation in a month he had been grossly underestimating the amount of work that would be needed to restore it to its former magnificence.

  He had half a dozen men repairing the roof, another half a dozen working on the grounds, but if things were to be done in so short a space of time he would need to employ several dozen and he had no notion where to find them.

  Miss Bradshaw, no, she would be Penny to him now, could possibly find him the labourers he needed. It was in her interest to get things done speedily. When he had visited the bank on his way here he had been gratified to find he had sufficient funds to restore a dozen properties.

  Tomorrow was time enough to worry about such things, to
night he would ride down to the local hostelry and see what was on offer. So far he had been living on short commons indeed, there were only two servants employed and neither of them were particularly efficient.

  The carriage and team he had purchased was adequate for his needs but if he was to ride around his properties he would need a decent nag. Somehow he rather thought that Penny would be able to help him with that as well.

  For the first time today he thought about his lost love. Jemima would not have the first notion about any of these matters and he had always loved this about her, loved the fact that he would be her protector, guide her in everything she did. It had not occurred to him there might be a young lady of similar status to himself who was so self-sufficient she appeared to have no need for any gentleman in her life.

  One thing he had discovered was that the wine cellar was well-stocked and he had drunk himself to a stupor with excellent claret most nights. Tonight he had only a couple of glasses. He wanted to have his wits about him tomorrow morning if he was to somehow mislead that perspicacious young lady.

  It had taken him several botched attempts before he could shave himself without endangering his life. Today he would make an effort with his appearance, tie his neckcloth in a waterfall, and give his breeches and topcoat some attention too. He must find himself a competent valet and set about replacing his wardrobe. There must be a tailor in Ipswich who could make him something respectable. He had no intention of having his topcoat made to hug his every contour, in future he would have them a comfortable size, one that did not require any assistance to put on or off.

  He had had plenty of time to read the documents his father had given him before he'd left. Not only did he have this house and its fifty acres of parkland, there were also several farms and a smaller estate in the adjoining county, Norfolk. From what he could ascertain from the figures the income from these properties was substantial, more than enough to live in style. The tenant who had lived here had let the place become derelict – but why should he spend his own money to repair a house that did not belong to him?