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Chapter Nineteen
Despite Bea’s own surprise and horror at the Dowager Marchioness’s unexpected arrival, she noted the reactions rippling through everyone else. Her children froze before exchanging looks of worry. William and Augustus radiated displeasure and anger.
“Make no preparations for her to stay. She’ll be leaving soon,” William said firmly. “Where is she now?”
The housekeeper looked nervously toward the mansion. “In the drawing room, my lord.”
“Very well. I’ll go speak with her. Take the children directly to the nursery, please.”
Bea smiled to be reassuring, and though Edmund had been counting on spending more time outside hunting for worms after the rain, even he listened straight away. As soon as they left, Bea stroked a reassuring hand along William’s tense arm.
He took her hand but looked at his brother. “Will you accompany Lady Candleton on a walk around the gardens while I dispatch our mother?”
Struggling visibly, Augustus glowered. “Leaving you to face her alone?”
“Augustus is right, William. We shan’t leave you—“
“I don’t want you around such a distasteful person! You know she isn’t here to mend things or enjoy the country. I’ll send her away at once. I warned her the last time I saw her.”
It seemed so cold to turn someone around after a day of travel, but Bea couldn’t disagree. Knowing Lady Sabrina awaited inside…it was like knowing her home had been invaded by a malevolent form of vermin.
“Your wife is your business,” Augustus said with an apologetic look toward her, “but not even your authority as marquess will keep me away. You’ve always been too forgiving with her, William, and if you require any reminders of our mother’s perfidy, so be it. I’ll—”
“I’m going in as well,” Bea interjected. “As Marchioness, I am hostess in this home.Ishall decide whether the Dowager is to be invited to remain.”
Both men turned to her, dumbfounded. “I beg your pardon?” William asked in clipped tones.
She straightened her spine. “Come, Lord Candleton. Captain Dalfour. The sooner we face this, the sooner we may resume the rest of our day’s plans.” With a slight flare of her eyes, she silently reminded William of the delectable plans they had after everyone was retired for the evening.
“As you see fit, my lady,” he said eventually, offering his arm.
After executing a rapid bow of respect, Augustus straightened. Gone was the affable uncle and charming dinner companion. Before her stood a soldier. “Some counsel, my lady, as I’m afraid battlefield tactics are more apt for what we face now than the rules of social engagement. Watch your flank. This vicious enemy does not attack openly unless cornered.”
Bea thanked him, and though she was grateful for his and William’s concern, she was more worried for their sake. For all their righteous anger, it was easy for her to see the deep well of pain their mother’s visit had reopened.
Entering the drawing room on her husband’s arm, Bea offered the first greeting. “Good afternoon, Lady Sabrina. Sally, Eliza, you’re needed below stairs.”
The two maids, standing above the Dowager Marchioness to fan her, had the good sense to stifle their relief at being sent away.
Her annoyance unhidden, Lady Sabrina sat up fully. The sight of her sons brought a gleam into her eye, and not even their cool greetings diminished it. “When I heard both my children were in residence at the Hall, of course I couldn’t stay away.”
Lady Sabrina stood but didn’t approach very closely, and her cunning gaze swept them, lingering on Bea’s wrinkled walking gown. Despite the heat and time in a carriage, the Dowager’s peacock-blue traveling gown looked pristine.
Bea dipped her head. “I wish you had waited for an invitation, Lady Sabrina, for there have been some changes to our household you should know about. We—”
“You needn’t explain on my account, dear, I am aware of the difficulties”—the woman’s eyes moved from Bea to William and back—“in the household. I expect you and the children will remain in residence out here in the country when William returns to London. It’s as it should be. I believe—”
“You’re mistaken, my lady,” Bea interjected in a pleasant but firm tone. She squeezed William’s tense arm, having heard his intake of breath. She had spoken before he could. “Since you’re here now, I shall explain our new arrangements. I’m afraid they may not suit you and you’ll be more comfortable elsewhere.”
A flash of outrage and disbelief crossed Lady Sabrina’s face before she lowered herself with slow elegance—and determination—until she sat on the settee. “I doubt that.”
Bea took a step forward, and William joined her on one side, Augustus on the other.
“I declare!” The Dowager placed a delicate hand to her throat. “Something very odd is going on, and I’m certain it’s this terrible heat. Let us all rest and assemble later for supper later. Beatrice, I suggest you have your maid improve your hair. It’s positively—”
“The new arrangements to which I referred?” Bea continued as if the woman hadn’t spoken. “They’re more like rules. A family edict, if you will, and it applies to everyone, from the Marquess to every guest.”
Lady Sabrina bristled. “Edict!”
