Page 96 of Yielding to Love

Chapter Thirty

Crispin expected his brothers to arrive separately since they were coming from two different places. But Reg and Georgiana must have gone first to Chaumbers because the whole family appeared en masse. Nervous and irritated to be so, he threw on his greatcoat then stepped into the muddy drive to welcome them to his refurbished home.

He directed the coachmen to take the vehicles around back to the carriage house as soon as the footmen finished unloading the baggage. Jasper’s footmen. Two of his own stood watching, unsure what to do. Crispin had hired extra servants to round out his household for the next three weeks, through Christmas and into the New Year. He’d asked Gerald to serve as butler until after the holidays when he would find a replacement for old Badge. He had enough people, good people, but Jasper would, naturally, assume otherwise.

“No, Crispin,” Jasper said, turning up his nose. “I’ll send them into the town and stable the horses at the inn. The carriage house is falling down.”

“It was.” Crispin tempered his annoyance by reminding himself that his neglect of the property had been unconscionable. And since each of his siblings had honeymooned here, they all were aware of its flaws. But Jasper should look first. “I had it torn down and rebuilt.” Now was not the time to explain why he’d significantly expanded the stables. Not while Jasper was frowning as if doubting the veracity of his words. “I’m keeping Mercury here, so it should be fine enough for your nags.”

Vanessa came up beside him and took his arm. “Crispin, the façade is lovely! The new door. The steps. And Jasper, look at the windows!” Her smile lit her whole face. “Did you have them all reglazed?”

“No, just washed.” Vanessa had seen the house at its worst. That was all she had to compare it to. But his mother and siblings would be remembering how it was back in their younger days. He hoped the changes would not disappoint. “Come along.” He circled his arms to beckon them all. “I’ll give you the tour.”

Georgiana and Reg each carried a babe, while their cheery young nursemaid followed, an overstuffed traveling bag in her hands. Benjamin carried Christopher. Olivia walked alongside them chattering and gesturing. Their nursemaid was a grandmotherly woman named Miss Jamison, who held Hannah’s hand until the energetic chit broke away and darted for Crispin.

“Uncle Major! Is this your house?”

“It is.” He wondered if Olivia had been coaching her to call him uncle. A sweet gesture.

She took hold of his hand. “Mama says be careful inside. Hold hands.” Less sweet.

Straight-faced, he said, “Child, your mother is a hypocrite. She was never careful in her life.”

“Crispin!” Olivia cried out, laughing. “Watch what you say. She is a parrot.”

“Wipe the trepidation from your faces, Taverstons. I’ve had the whole house stripped, sanded, cleaned, aired out, repainted…and much of the furniture is new.”

He led them inside, with Hannah still clinging to his hand. The entryway was little changed except that it was dust-free, and the floor had been redone.

“Have a peek into the dining room,” he said, throwing open the double doors. The walls were covered with a peacock-themed paper that Mrs. Peele had recommended. He’d worried it would be gaudy, but with the mahogany table and chairs in place, he thought it looked fine. He glanced at his mother to see her reaction. She would have chosen the décor he’d had to discard. Thankfully, she was smiling.

He took them through the downstairs sitting room, his study, the music room with his new Broadwood pianoforte, and the morning room. He was gratified by the approving ah’s.

They went up the main staircase to the first floor. Here was the library. He’d had to throw away a large number of moldy books, which he regretted, but they’d had uninteresting titles, and he was looking forward to filling the shelves with ones he would actually read. Poetry and novels. Perhaps he’d slip in a few French political philosophers to alarm Jasper.

“The library is a work in progress,” he said, and steered them toward the bedrooms. “Mother, if you don’t mind, I’ve put you in Olivia’s old bedchamber. Olivia and Benjamin will be in mine, upstairs, to be nearer the nursery.”

“Of course, I don’t mind. Are you usually in your old chamber or your father’s?”

“Father’s.” He cleared his throat. The adjoining bedchamber belonged to the wife he could never have. Every time he looked at the door between the rooms, he felt Camellia’s absence. No, not just then. She was absent from every room in the house. The shakiest wall here was the one he’d attempted to put up around his heart. “But I’m down the hall in one of the guest chambers for now. I thought I would let Haz and Alice have the connecting rooms.” He had no idea what their sleeping arrangements might be. This way, they could work it out between themselves, privately.

“Yes, that makes sense,” Mother said. “Alice is in her last month, and I’m sure she prefers her own bed.”

“Hazard must, too,” Reg said. Georgiana made a face at him, and he smiled at her. A private joke.

Crispin swung Hannah’s hand. “Shall we go see the nursery?”

Hannah nodded solemnly. They all climbed another flight of stairs. He gestured to the right. “Jasp, you and Reg still have your old rooms. If your snoring rattles the windows, Vanessa and Georgiana can have guestrooms on the first floor.” He was fairly certain his siblings, unlike most aristocratic couples, shared bedrooms with their spouses.

“We’ll make do,” Vanessa said.

“And here is the nursery.” He flung open the door. “The nursemaids’ room is adjacent.” They all crowded in. There were four cribs and two small beds, everything bright and new. For the finishing touch, Crispin had found several delightfully silly drawings that must have been made by Olivia when she was little. He’d had them framed and hung on the freshly painted walls.

“Charming,” Olivia said, grinning. “Where did you find them?”

“Stuffed inside Father’s desk drawer.” For a moment, his sister’s smile dimmed. She had been their father’s pet. This moment, the family all together without him, deserved a pause for reflection. Father had not had the chance to know his grandchildren. Then again, they didn’t have to worry about how he would have taken his daughter’s marriage to a steward.

“Are you hungry?” he asked Hannah. When she nodded vehemently, he grinned and said, “Mrs. Clay is eager to show off her peach cake.” He hoped the meal was up to standards. His need to impress his family was somewhat pathetic, and yet, there it was. There it always had been.