Tuesday's Child (Heroines Born on Each Day of the Week Book 3) (9 page)

She regarded him with a heart-breaking expression in her speedwell blue eyes. “Yes, it is, and when my dear papa-” She broke off and blew her nose. “Forgive me, I don’t care to recall the time in my life when Arthur and I were almost destitute, because the bank my husband invested his money in crashed before I could claim it.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, although I know my father left his money to me, but after the battle in which he lost his life, his papers were lost in the confusion. So far, I have been unable to find out where he had a bank account.”

Her ladyship sniffed. “Of course, it is common for women widowed in the war to remarry, often within an extraordinarily short time of their husbands’ deaths.  My father took care of me, so I refused several proposals of marriage. Besides, I could not bring myself to replace Edgar.”

Lady Castleton’s rosy lips trembled. Dominic stifled an urge to kiss them. Shocked by the sudden, unbidden surge of passion, he castigated himself. He was no better than those gentlemen who sought her hand in marriage soon after her husband died. He gathered his wits. “Have you not placed an advertisement in the broad sheets to discover where your father’s account might be?”

Her eyes shone. “Thank you, I did not think of doing so. I shall take your advice without delay. An income however small would free me from the earl.” Like a schoolgirl, who had made a faux pas, she pressed her hand over her mouth. “Please forget that I confided it you.”

“If you wish. You don’t need to be nervous. I promise not to repeat a word of our conversation.” He hesitated before he continued. “I hope you will not consider me impertinent for asking if your situation is very disagreeable?”

“My father-in-law has been all that is kind, so I should not complain.”

“Sometimes it is good to voice one’s concerns,” Dominic reassured her.

“Yes, Mister Markham, I daresay.”

He gazed at her, entranced by the delicate colour advancing and retreating in Lady Castleton’s rounded cheeks. Surely it was not sinful for even a rector to appreciate her.

“My lady, if you are not at ease with the earl, perhaps you are ready to consider remarriage. You might meet a gentleman whose affection you could reciprocate.”

Her lips parted, the tip of her tongue emerged. Tenderness appeared in her eyes fringed by incredibly long, thick lashes. His sixth sense told him she was remembering her late husband. He hoped the past would not dominate her future and ‘her heart was not buried in the grave’. “I beg your pardon if I have offended you.”

“No need to apologise.” She opened her expressive eyes wide, “I am not affronted, only I don’t think I could ever again give my heart to any gentleman.”

“Perhaps you could not, at first, on the other hand successful marriages can be built on mutual liking and respect, after which sincere fondness follows.”

“I am sure you are right, for you have more experience than I do.”

“I beg your pardon! I am a bachelor.”

The lady’s eyelashes fluttered. She peeped at him through them. “I meant you must be accustomed to advising your parishioners.”

He cleared his throat. “You are right, sometimes, I am asked to give guidance.”

“I am sure it is helpful. By the way, my father-in-law would agree with you on the subject of remarriage. The earl says I am too young to remain a widow for the rest of my life. He also says sincere regard often grows after marriage.”

Dominic frowned. Had the earl spoken to Lady Castleton of his wish for him to marry her? Regardless of how much he wanted to know, to ask would be beyond the bounds of propriety. Besides, if she knew, there would probably be some awkwardness between himself and Lady Castleton. He cleared his throat.

“Please call on me if you ever think I can be of assistance. I should be delighted to be of service to you.” He frowned. “Are you completely dependent on your father-in-law? Have you no blood relatives who might be of assistance?”

Lady Castleton’s forehead creased. “I doubt it, Mister Markham. My parents were estranged from their families. I only know Mamma was born in Devonshire, to Henry Yates, a naval officer, the younger son of a baronet, and Jane, a squire’s daughter.”

“Your father’s family?”

“Papa was the second son of Sir Sidney, Baronet Loxbeare. “ She sighed. “Mama told me the Yates refused their permission for her to marry a younger son, a mere lieutenant, who could not afford to support a wife.”  Lady Castleton blushed. “The Yates and the Loxbeares ranted when my parents eloped.” A few seconds passed before she spoke again. “To make matters worse the Loxbeares considered my father made a mésalliance and disowned him. Even if any of my grandparents are still alive, I am sure they would want nothing to do with me.” More colour flooded Lady Castleton’s cheeks. “I daresay you are shocked.”

“Elopements are not to be recommended, particularly by a clergyman. Yet they are not entirely uncommon and may be forgiven.” Dominic hoped his smile would reassure her. “I hope your parents did not regret theirs.”

A radiant smile illuminated Lady Castleton’s face. “No, indeed they did not. Their mutual love was obvious to everyone. There was nothing they would not have done for each other, and no sacrifice was too great.” She frowned. “However, in my opinion, Mamma’s was greater. When she spoke of her family I think she still hoped they would forgive her for running away from home.”

Lady Castleton’s tiny hands clutched a fold of her pale pink, muslin morning gown. “Perhaps she gave up more than Papa, for I think he cared less for his family than she did for hers. Of course, he did not endure all the same hardships as Mamma after she insisted on following the drum. Oh!” she exclaimed, a comical look of dismay on her face, “how can I explain? Often, we put up in flea-ridden quarters in small villages. At other times snow weighed down our tents. If those conditions were not bad enough, Mamma was often hard-put to feed us. Not the life for a gently reared lady.”

Dominic regarded her thoughtfully. “Nor for you.”

Lady Castleton laughed. “Unlike my mother, I am not gently reared.” She held out her hands. “I can scrub floors as well or better than any maidservant, bargain for food like a loud-mouthed fishwife, be ready to march within an hour and –”

“March?”

“An exaggeration. Mamma and I either rode or travelled in a carriage. What must you be thinking of me. Despite the circumstances, my parents did not entirely neglect my education. Mamma taught me to read, write, figure and sew. My embroidery has been admired, and I can make clothes. In winter quarters, or on the rare occasions when Papa insisted we could not follow him, I learned to play the pianoforte and had singing lessons. I also learned to speak and write French and Spanish.”

“I am in awe of your accomplishments, my lady.” Dominic suspected there might be a twinkle in his eye. “Particularly your ability to scrub floors on your hands and knees and … er … bargain like a fishwife. f I may say so you appear too delicate to-”

“Don’t be under any misapprehensions, Mister Markham. Although I am small, I am strong -. Oh, you are laughing at me.”  She pouted but did not seem annoyed when she continued. “I assure you I needed those skills as much I needed to be a good horsewoman from an early age. Of course, my father made certain of that. When we crossed the Pyrenees my life depended on it.” Lady Castleton stared into the distance. “I will never forget the journey through snow-covered mountain passes. Indeed, Mister Markham, I thank God for my survival.” A shadow appeared to cross her beautiful face. “Why should I speak of such matters? I am safe here on a glorious summer day. For this, at least, I am grateful to the earl, who has been generous since we met fifteen months ago. Although-. No I must not say it.”

“I have already said, you may say anything to me in confidence. Also, as a clergyman and one who wishes you well I want to help you in any way I can. If you do not completely unburden yourself to me, I cannot.”

“You are kind, but I am hesitant for fear you might think badly of me.”

Think badly of her! He could not imagine doing so. “Unless you have murdered someone, and I assume you have not, I cannot imagine why I should think ill of you.”

For a moment, Lady Castleton’s well-modulated laughter rang out, presumably at the thought of having committed a murder. The expression on her face sobered. She scrutinised him, maybe weighing him up, while trying to decide whether or not be frank. Her deep breath that caused her breasts to rise and fall. “I mistrust my father-in-law. He wishes to supplant me in my son’s affections, to buy his love by granting his every wish.” At first she spoke slowly. “Under his grandfather’s influence Arthur has changed. He is no longer the well-mannered child, who first arrived at my father-in-law’s London house.” Her words came faster. “I am sorry to say he is wilful, which is why he would have died if you had not rescued him from the lake. I would like to leave Clarencieux with Arthur; regrettably, I have not the means to do so.” Tears traced their way down her cheeks. Her handkerchief neglected, like a small girl, she brushed them away with the back of her hands. “Forgive me, although life has thrown so much at me, I rarely cry.”

Despite many people who confided their woes to him whom he tried to assist, he wanted to be of help Lady Castleton more than any of them. She was too young and too vulnerable to have suffered so much, and to be at the mercy of a man such of Pennington’s type.

Dominic wished he could comfort her with a hug. Confound the proprieties which forbade it. Moreover, he wanted to solve her problems and protect her. “My lady, I appreciate your difficulties. With your permission I shall place an advertisement in the newspapers to find out who your father banked with. And, if you have no objection, I will search for members of your family. Please write down whatever you know about them – your parents, siblings and other relatives – anything which would be useful. I am sure some of them would be delighted to meet you.”

“You are so kind. How can I thank you?”

The door opened. Arthur ran across the room and flung himself into his mother’s arms. “Grandfather and I rode to a farm. The farmer’s wife curtsied to me and gave me gingerbread. Grandfather says one day the farm and everything else he has will be mine.”

Pennington followed the child into the room.

Dominic stood and bowed to the earl, who nodded his head at him, before he turned his attention to his grandson. “Your manners, Lord Arthur. Make your bow instead of clinging to Lady Castleton like a common boy. If you want to own the abbey in the future, you must behave like a gentleman.”

Arthur pulled himself free of his mother’s embrace, made a creditable bow, looking at the earl for approval.

Pennington gestured to the door. “You may go to the nursery.”

In spite of his pout, Arthur obeyed his grandfather.

“Papa,” Lady Castleton began after the doors closed, “Arthur is pale after his recent ordeal. He is also terrified of water. Last night he had a nightmare about the lake. I would like to take him to Brighton. Sea-bathing is considered beneficial and it might cure Arthur of his fears.”

“Brighton? I think not. The Prince Regent’s pavilion is vulgar is it not?”

His daughter-in-law cleared her throat. “Another seaside town?”

Pennington shook his head. “No, I have not planned for Arthur to visit one. However, I fear country life is too quiet for you, so I have decided to hold a ball. It will give you confidence before you go to London for the season and be presented at court.” He looked down his nose at her. “I don’t wish you to be tied to the nursery like a drudge instead of taking your place in society. To help you do so, I have hired your dance master, and also arranged for young ladies and gentlemen from neighbouring families to join your lessons.”

Dominic admired and sympathised with Lady Castleton. When the earl refused his permission to take Arthur to Brighton, although her cheeks flamed red as a raging fire, she kept a tight rein on her temper.

The expression in his eyes cold, Pennington looked from his daughter-in-law to Dominic. “I see you have been furthering your acquaintance with Lady Castleton. Would you care to partake of nuncheon with us?

“No, thank you, I have an appointment.” Dominic bowed. “My lord, my lady, good day to both of you.”

Not until he mounted his horse, did he remember, yet again he forgot to ask for Bessie Cooper’s reference. Why did Lady Castleton’s society make him so forgetful? Magic, he decided. Unashamed of his whimsy, he chuckled.

Chapter Eight

Dominic sat in his sun-filled library on the morning after the Earl of Pennington announced he would hold a ball. Head bent over a sheet of paper, he penned a letter to Lady Castleton, in which he requested her to write a reference for Bessie Cooper. Satisfied with the composition, he sprinkled sand to onto the ink. When it had dried, folded the letter into three, and then sealed it with his signet ring, which bore his family’s insignia, a fierce falcon, with outstretched wings, beneath a coronet.

In the hope of finding out where Lady Castleton’s deceased father banked, Dominic drafted an advertisement to be placed in newspapers on her behalf. He read the draft, and made two amendments before he copied it in elegant copperplate handwriting, which had won his tutor’s praise in the schoolroom.

The clock struck ten. Outside, the pleasant summer day tempted him to go riding. Perhaps Gwenifer would like to accompany him. No, he should write his sermon, for which he chose Text Eight from Proverbs: Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall. In the unlikely event of Pennington attending ¬morning service at Saint Michaels and All Saints the topic would benefit him.