Page 7 of Waiting for Love

Probably because they were wealthy enough. Moreover, they were gentlemen. Status was worth more than mere money.

“You’ll come around tomorrow then?” Reg said, withdrawing a step. “Most everyone will leave in the morning. No point waiting for the rest of us to depart. Georgiana and I will be here for the next few months. She wants Alice to stay. And Crispin is leaving tonight.”

“Tonight! To go where?”

“He says London.”

“But he won’t get there until dawn!”

Reg shrugged. “I’ve given up trying to keep track of Crispin. Apparently he believes the war effort would collapse without his unceasing efforts.”

“Would it?”

With a laugh, Reg said, “Probably.”

Benjamin had no further justification for staying away from Chaumbers. If Reg pressed him again, what on earth could he say? That he was afraid of Olivia?

Oh, good God. Enough was enough. He’d been skulking around London for three months hiding from the memory of her tear-stained face. He should never have let it come to that. He should have absented himself from the Taverston home as soon as he realized her puppy-like devotion had turned to a fourteen-year-old’s infatuation. Selfishly, he hadn’t wanted to distance himself from the Taverstons. Pathetically, he was probably pretending he was another brother.

But the one thing he was not guilty of was trying to weasel his way into the family by way of securing the affections of their underage sister! The fear of being accused of such a thing could still raise a cold sweat. He should never have gotten himself into such a stupid situation.

He was not going to make the same mistake twice. He knew his place. Caretaker of Chaumbers. There were a few adaptations he’d picked up in his travels, workarounds to some of the stultifying traditions of English lords and their tenants…if Jasper allowed him enough latitude…

He wanted this job as much as he needed it.

“Yes, I will be around tomorrow. But I don’t want to start off with account books and piles of paper shoved into cabinets. I’d like to ride about the estate. See what, if anything, has changed from what I remember of it. That is, if I might borrow a horse.”

Reg grinned. “We’ll borrow two.”

Chapter Four

Olivia was cross. She woke with a headache whenever she drank a little champagne, and last night, she drank more than a little.

There was only one thing for it.

“Tansy? My riding habit. The dark blue.”

Her maid glanced with dismay toward the bed. On it lay a gray frock—enlivened with a few white stripes—that had clearly just been pressed. Olivia had told Tansy she would be wearing it today.

“I’ll change into that after my ride,” she said apologetically. She didn’t want to be one of those imperious mistresses who could not make up her mind and kept her maids scurrying. “I need to blow cobwebs from my head.”

“Yes, my lady.”

She rushed off to the dressing room to fetch Olivia’s riding clothes. Newly promoted from chambermaid to lady’s maid, Tansy really was a dear. Mama had taken Anna, her own maid, down to the dower house, which made it impossible to borrow her any longer. Olivia had chosen to have Anna train Tansy instead of hiring someone hoity-toity, which would have been Mama’s preference. The poor girl had a lazy eye and some of the other servants made fun of her. They wouldn’t dare tease her now!

Tansy was handy with a needle and thread, and strangely enough, had a good sense for fashion. Olivia had never needed much fuss, but accepted the fact that she soon would. In a few months, she would throw off mourning and leave Chaumbers for London. To attract a husband, she would have to change clothes a hundred times a day, start perfuming herself with rosewater or lavender, both of which made her sneeze, and wear her hair up in ridiculous ringlets. And everyone imagined she was dying to go!

Fleetingly, she wondered if Benjamin found all the feminine enticements alluring. But what could it possibly matter? Look at the previous steward’s wife. Mrs. Bradwell had been a plain woman who dressed starkly. Moreover, the poor woman seemed overawed whenever her path crossed that of one of the Taverstons. Given that she and Mr. Bradwell had lived in a small apartment in the south wing at Chaumbers, that should not have been an infrequent occurrence, but Mrs. Bradwell preferred to use the servants’ stairs and back entrance. They rarely ever saw her.

Olivia shook away the image. Mrs. Bradwell died several years ago and Bradwell went into a decline. They’d had no children. She felt a twinge, picturing such a lonely future for Benjamin, should he marry someone like that.

But then, there was Hannah. The thought cheered her. Benjamin would not be alone.

Tansy returned, arms laden. She dressed Olivia with the quick efficiency she must have perfected while undertaking the many onerous duties of a chambermaid. Then she twisted Olivia’s hair into a tidy chignon that would tuck easily under her bonnet.

“Very good,” Olivia announced after a quick glance in the mirror. “If anyone asks, I’ve gone down to the stables.”

She descended the wide, swooping main staircase and hurried to the entryway, avoiding the breakfast parlor in case any of the guests had risen early, though that was doubtful. Being London men, they would not keep country hours. They were mostly older gentlemen, her father’s friends rather than Jasper’s. Inviting them had been a courtesy and a political expediency, since Jasper, new to the House of Lords, was courting favor. That one younger man, the Marquess of Ebersom—Alice had reminded her of the name—was an up-and-coming Tory. So, Olivia surmised, he was a potential ally of Jasper’s own generation, but not a close friend.