A Proper Companion

Chapter Five

Edmond awoke to the midday sun streaming through the double glass doors leading to his balcony. He had slept long and well for the first time in years. No narrow army cots in tents that failed to keep out wind and rain. No ships’ berths on rolling seas. No lumpy mattresses in wayside inns. Amazing what one night of good rest could do for a man.

Across the room Matthews dozed in a chair, his uniform in surprisingly tidy condition. Had he risen early and made himself presentable in anticipation of Edmond’s needs?

As if his thoughts had sent out a signal, Matthews jerked awake and rubbed his eyes. “’Morning, sir.” He stood, tugged at his red jacket and lifted his eyebrows expectantly. “Good sleep?”

“Good, indeed.” Edmond stretched and yawned. “I suppose Greystone’s already had his morning ride.” He still was not certain he could ride, but he would attempt it to spend time with his brother away from the house.

Matthews chuckled. “Aye, sir. Twice.”

“Huh?” Edmond threw his legs over the side of the bed and snatched up his dressing gown. “What do you mean?” A few odd aches reminded him of his injuries, but not nearly as painfully as on the long trip home.

“You’ve slept since we arrived evening before last, sir.”

“What?” Edmond surrendered to the news by plopping back on the bed with a hearty laugh. Just as quickly, he shot to his feet, swaying a bit as he regained his balance. “What news of Miss Newfield?” More precisely, how had Mother treated her?

“Not much, sir. Below stairs says Lady Greystone hasn’t summoned her yet, so she’s kept to her room.”

“Uh-oh. Not good.” Edmond ran his hands over his face. “Let’s get me presentable so I can go find out what’s what.”

While Matthews called for water and laid out fresh clothing, Edmond opened the doors and stepped out onto the narrow balcony. The familiar meadows and distant woods dappled with autumn colors sent a vague pang of longing through him. He inhaled a deep breath of the crisp October air to bring his thoughts more into focus. Despite Mother’s sternness, she was not a beast. Nor was she forgetful. So why would she leave Miss Newfield in her room all this time? Old Miss Peel had been permitted to wander the house and grounds at will when Mother had no need of her companionship. Perhaps the young lady did not understand her privileges. Edmond slapped his forehead. He had indeed failed her by not informing her of what would be expected.

His gaze strayed toward the east wing of the L-shaped manor house, and something jolted in his chest. There stood Miss Newfield on her balcony, her black mourning weeds blowing about her in the mild wind. Across the distance he could not quite make out the expression on her fair face, but her straight posture gave no indication of misery. Considering what he had witnessed of her character so far, he should have had more faith in her ability to cope, no matter what the circumstances.

She turned his way and lifted a hand to wave at him. Now he could make out a smile, and he waved back. Admiration and satisfaction filled him. She was faring well in spite of her solitude. He could ask for nothing more.

* * *

Anna wondered whether she had erred by waving first, but in her happiness at seeing Major Grenville, her hand seemed to lift of its own accord. Apparently he did not find her greeting inappropriate, for his broad smile reflected her own. Then, noticing that his dark red clothing was not his uniform but a dressing gown, heat rushed to her cheeks. Perhaps aristocrats had different customs regarding what was appropriate to wear out of doors. She offered a tentative parting wave and returned to her bedchamber.

Her foolishness struck her immediately, for her balcony seemed an extension of this room. No doubt the major felt the same way about his childhood quarters, so of course he would step outside upon waking. Had she not done the same thing these two mornings? She prayed his smile was an indicator that his health was already improving.

Taking a seat in the upholstered wingchair beside the bed, she picked up Papá’s Bible and resumed a search she had begun the day before. Surely some scriptural example could help her discover how to be useful in this household, but until she understood her employer, she could not be certain her actions would be appropriate. Lady Greystone had not sent for her, and Mrs. Dobbins had made it clear she was not to leave until summoned. Thus she had remained in the room, reading her Bible and praying for Lady Greystone, Lord Greystone, kind Major Grenville and all of the dear people she had left behind. And of course Peter, healing somewhere in the vast wilderness called America.

“Miss Newfield?” The call through her door was followed by a scratch, and she set aside her Bible to cross the chamber and open the door.

“Good morning, Johnson.” Anna gave the butler a welcoming smile. Other than the little chambermaid who brought hot water each morning, he was the only person she had seen, and only when he brought her meals. But this time he brought no tray, and Anna’s stomach rumbled a quiet protest.

“Lady Greystone requires your presence in the breakfast room.” The man’s formal facade never wavered. “If you would follow me, please.”

“Oh, yes.” Excitement, gratitude…and a hint of fear…swept through Anna. At last she would learn about her duties. “Thank you.” She felt a mad impulse to ask the butler whether her appearance was acceptable, but refrained.

Johnson started down the hallway, but uncertainty drew Anna to the long mirror on her wardrobe door for a quick inspection. She touched the high collar of her black bombazine gown and checked the tidiness of her hair, which was pulled into a soft bun a little less severe than Mrs. Dobbins’s. Mamá’s silver and sapphire pin was her only adornment, but at the last moment she removed it and stored it in the drawer of her dressing table, lest it be considered improper for mourning.

She hurried out of her room, but the butler had vanished. Walking in the direction he had gone, she hoped memory served correctly and she would find the front stairway around the corner. Her weariness two nights ago had prevented her from making sufficient mental notes about her surroundings, which would be humorous under other circumstances. But she certainly did not wish to get lost in this great house.

She turned the corner and entered a broad space that indeed led to the stairs. Relieved, she strode across the patterned runner, hoping to see the butler descending the staircase.

“Miss Newfield.”

The call came from her left. She turned to see Major Grenville walking slowly toward her, cane in hand and Matthews at his side. The major’s color had greatly improved, as had his posture. His uniform of a red jacket and white breeches appeared spotless. Morning light shone through tall windows across from the landing and glinted off his black boots, which were polished to a brilliant sheen. As he came near, she was reminded of his height, and her awe increased. What a fine-looking soldier. With some difficulty, she tamped down the giddiness stirring within her as he approached.

“Major Grenville, how well you look.”

“As do you.” His smile gladdened her heart. “What do you think of the Lodge? Has anyone taken you out to see the gardens and the park yet?”

“I, um…” As they walked side by side to the wide staircase and began their descent, Anna searched for a response that would not cast aspersions on his mother. “Lady Greystone has just now sent for me and—”

“So it’s true?” He stopped suddenly and seemed about to pitch forward.

“Easy, sir.” Matthews was beside him, ready to assist.

Anna stopped, too, and heat rushed to her cheeks. But what else could she have said?

The major leaned toward her, frowning. “I heard you haven’t been summoned from your room since we arrived.” Standing two steps above her, he seemed even more formidable. “That’s outrageous.”

Under his scrutiny, Anna drew in a bracing breath and somehow managed a light laugh. “I am certain Lady Greystone understood my need to recover from the journey. You cannot imagine how I appreciated the opportunity to rest.”

He relaxed a bit and his frown slowly faded, replaced by a sad smile. “You would say that, wouldn’t you?” He resumed his descent and she fell in beside him. “In fact, I’ve slept these two days myself.”

“Ah. Then you do feel better?”

By the time they reached the ground floor, their conversation had shifted to the safe topic of weather and hopes of spending time outside in the sunshine before winter closed in.

“Perhaps you can begin your riding lessons.” The major’s firm, well-formed lips quirked up on one side, and one eyebrow lifted. He was teasing her, just as Peter used to do, and her heart skipped.

In response, she shuddered comically. “And perhaps not.”

His laughter echoed throughout the hall just as they reached a door a footman held open for them. Anna surmised it was the breakfast room, for the aromas of coffee, sausages, eggs and freshly baked bread greeted her senses in the most pleasant way. Her stomach registered its request for satisfaction, and she hoped no one could hear. As she, the major and Matthews entered, the inhabitants seated at the dining table turned as one. Two gentlemen stood and offered enthusiastic greetings to the major.

“Here comes the hero.” The man at the head of the table, surely the viscount, strode toward them. As tall as the major and equally well-proportioned, he might have been a twin save for his sky-blue eyes.

“Brother.” The second man, almost a triplet except for his lighter brown hair, also approached him. “Welcome home.” Anna assumed this gentleman was the cleric Major Grenville had spoke of during their journey.

Lady Greystone, seated at the foot of the table, regarded them through her quizzing glass. “It is past time you put in an appearance, Edmond.” Her stare landed briefly on Anna, and her lips curled up with distaste before she turned back to her youngest son. “What, pray tell, did you find so humorous before you entered the room?”

* * *

Edmond ignored Mother’s question, choosing instead to plunge into the embrace of his two older brothers. “Greystone. Richard.” Much backslapping and many endearing insults ensued while the brothers reestablished the bond that had been their lifeline since they were boys. Separated by mere fourteen-month intervals, they now appeared very near the same age, or so it seemed to Edmond.

“So, Greystone, what news from Parliament? Have you saved the country from the French yet?”

The viscount waved away the question. “You first. You must tell us about the war in America.”

“Only after I congratulate Richard for his ordination.” With the hope that no one would ask him about the war again, at least not in Miss Newfield’s company, Edmond clapped a hand on his middle brother’s shoulder. “Do you have a living yet?”

Richard glanced in Mother’s direction. “Um, well—”

“Never mind,” Edmond murmured. No doubt Mother was directing Richard’s appointments as she did his own. “You can tell me later.”

“Yes, well.” Greystone gripped Edmond’s arm. “Richard, you must present our baby brother to our new sister.”

“Ah, I’d heard that you married.” Edmond followed Richard to the table, where a pretty and very expectant young lady stood, a light blush coloring her pale cheeks. “Mary, may I present my brother Edmond of His Majesty’s Royal Dragoons.”

“Mrs. Grenville.” Edmond bent over her offered hand, while she dipped an unsteady curtsey and then leaned against Richard. The tender look that passed between them sent a strange longing through Edmond, even as he rejoiced in his brother’s happiness. “What a lovely addition to our family. Welcome.”

“Thank you, Major. You must call me Mary.”

“And I am Edmond.” He glanced at Mother, who sat observing the melee with her usual imperious facade. Was she pleased at the prospect of her first grandchild? He walked around the table and kissed her cheek. “Good morning, madam.”

“Humph.” While she did not rebuff him, she also did not return his kiss. “Sit down and eat. The sooner you regain your strength, the sooner you can return to duty.”

Not if he could sell his commission and resume his study of law. “Yes, madam.” As he moved toward his assigned seat where he had eaten many a meal while growing up, he noticed Miss Newfield still standing by the door. Remembering Mother’s neglect, he started to invite the young lady to the table.

“Come, come, Newfield.” Mother whipped her hand in the air, summoning her and indicating her place adjacent to the foot of the table in one gesture. “Here beside me.”

“Yes, my lady.” Miss Newfield’s voice was strong and confident. With a grace worthy of an aristocrat, she sat in the chair pulled out by the footman. Once again Edmond experienced no shame for bringing the lady to his mother, for she had not cowered in the midst of the family chaos. Seated beside her, he offered a smile, to which she responded in kind.

When a footman brought serving dishes, Edmond saw the hesitation in the lady’s eyes. Directing the man with a tilt of his head, he demonstrated how to serve his own plate. She followed suit, smiling her appreciation of the silent lesson. During their journey he had learned of her limited experience with servants, so he must look for opportunities to inform her of how to accept their service.

“This is my new companion,” Mother said amidst the flurry of breakfast being distributed around the table. “Her name is Newfield.” She took a sip of coffee. “Now, today I should like—”

The door opened and Johnson brought in the mail on a silver tray. He paused and glanced between Mother and Greystone, then carried the tray to the viscount. Edmond guessed the senior servants were often confused when Greystone was in residence, for Mother had ruled the house since Father had died some twenty-three years ago. When Greystone reached his majority six years ago, other than his entering Parliament, nothing changed. But then, Edmond’s eldest brother had always been an agreeable fellow, taking Mother’s dominance in stride.

When Johnson delivered the tray to Greystone, Edmond experienced a hint of satisfaction. Then a hint of shame. Scripture instructed a man to honor his parents, but it was rarely an easy task with Mother.

“Ah, good news.” Greystone held up a letter. “Uncle Grenville is coming for a visit. Should arrive the first week in November.”

“What?” Mother set down her coffee cup with a clink. “How dare he invite himself—”

“Not at all.” Greystone raised a hand to stop her. “I invited him.”

“You invited him?” Mother breathed out an angry sigh. “Well, then, I suppose I have no say in the matter.”

Edmond seized a bite of bread to keep from cheering. Perhaps Greystone was at last taking his rightful place as head of the family.

Greystone did not respond, but Richard, ever the peacemaker, leaned toward Mother. “You began to tell us your plans for the day. Is there any way Mary and I may help?”

Mother answered with one of her impatient “harrumphs,” and everyone fell to eating with no further comments.

Edmond’s thoughts darted here and there with unreasoning emotion not far behind. Perhaps Uncle Grenville’s visit was an answered prayer, if one could call a man’s fervent hopes a prayer. Father’s younger brother was a London barrister, Edmond’s desired profession. He had begun his law studies at Oxford until Mother insisted upon his joining the dragoons. How little she knew about her youngest son, for he would far rather face courtroom battles than the military sort. But the prospect of gaining his uncle’s patronage sent hope bubbling up in Edmond’s chest, and he coughed to clear his throat rather than choke on a bite of sausage.

Eyebrows lifted, Miss Newfield glanced his way as if trying to discern his distress. He returned a small shrug to dismiss her concern, adding a slight grin to show his appreciation. In every way this young woman exuded kindness, and he prayed Mother would not destroy her gentle spirit.

* * *

“Newfield.” Lady Greystone’s sharp tone cut into the silence that had descended upon the breakfast table. “Your mourning attire is incomplete.”

Anna glanced down at her dull black bombazine gown, but resisted touching her hair to see if any strands had escaped their pins. “Forgive me, my lady. I will be happy to—”

“Your black bonnet will do for out of doors, but when you are indoors you must wear a black lace or crepe scarf.” Lady Greystone eyed her briefly before returning to her eggs. “I shall have Hudson find something for you.”

Anna had yet to meet Hudson, but she knew her to be Lady Greystone’s lady’s maid. “I thank you—”

“This afternoon we will make our rounds of the village. Wear your walking shoes.” Her perpetual frown deepened. “You do have walking shoes?”

“Yes, my lady.” Anna’s heart lifted. Perhaps she would find people to whom she could minister in the village, as she had in Blandon.

“Edmond, you will accompany us.” The viscountess eyed her son as if daring him to decline.

The major did not respond immediately, but at last said, “It will be my pleasure.”

Relief and concern vied to dominate Anna’s thoughts. How good it would be to have the major along, but only if he could manage the walk. A quick glance in his direction revealed a clenched jaw, thinned lips and eyes focused on his nearly empty plate. In her short acquaintance with him, she had noticed this response when a situation met his disapproval. Surely his mother would be sympathetic to his pain, should the outing prove too arduous.

“If you please, madam.” Seated across the table from Anna, Mary Grenville gave Lady Greystone a hopeful smile. “May I accompany you as well?”

Anna could see the longing in the young woman’s eyes. Was she a kindred spirit with a desire to minister to the less fortunate?

“Nonsense.” Lady Greystone spread a thin layer of strawberry preserves on a piece of bread. “Over that rocky terrain in your condition? I’ll not lose my grandson to your whimsy.”

Disappointment clouded Mary’s face. Richard reached over to squeeze his wife’s hand. “Never mind, my darling. We’ll take a turn or two around the gallery after breakfast.”