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Chapter 13
With the invaluable help of Messrs. Watson and Goldman, Savage’s gold was deposited, a male secretary by the name of Sloane was engaged, and an offer made for the town house in Half-Moon Street.
When the post was delivered there was the promised invitation for the dinner party at Devonshire House and also a reply from Stoke. Savage tore it open, then scanned the page of beautiful writing from Lord Lamb.
Dear Mr. Savage:
Thank you for your note informing me of your arrival in England. I extend the hospitality of Curzon Street for as long as you may need it. I regret to inform you that Lamb Hall is in mourning and we are not receiving at the moment. Should the need arise to contact me, you may do so through Watson and Goldman, attorneys at law.
Anthony Lamb.
Savage realized Russell’s children would be in mourning because of their father’s death, but it was months past and no fit reason for refusing to receive him at Lamb Hall. The curt note told him plainly that his wards wanted him to keep his distance. What were they up to? The note only served to precipitate a visit to Stoke sooner than Savage had planned.
He spoke with John Bull. “I have to leave London immediately for a few days, but that creates a dilemma. I know you have no desire to remain in this house without me, so the only alternative seems to be to take you both to the house at Gravesend. I planned on letting you choose the servants you will need to staff Edenwood, but at the moment there is no time for that.”
He explained further. “The house is unfurnished and without servants, but perhaps you can make do for a few days.”
John Bull, eager to occupy his own domain, replied, “Once we arrive, Excellency, it will not be without servants. A mat upon the floor will suffice.”
Savage knew that John Bull meant exactly what he said. “I don’t believe we’ll have to resort to such Spartan measures, but thank you.” As an afterthought he decided to take along his new secretary. The things he would have to deal with would be unorthodox, but it would be a damned good test to see how he coped.
Savage decided to drive his own carriage and the team of bays. Kirinda sat inside with most of the luggage, while John Bull rode one of the Arabs that Savage had brought from Ceylon. Jeffrey Sloane sat next to his new employer as they bowled along the new turnpike, admiring his skill with the horses. He also made notes as Savage gave him instructions. “I’ve never seen the house, other than in my mind’s eye,” Savage told him, “so if the place is not yet habitable, we’ll put up at an inn. As I see it, the most pressing things you’ll have to acquire are fodder for the horses, food for yourselves, and utensils to cook it in. Then, of course, you’ll need beds and linen. Everything else can wait. Let John Bull select whatever he wants. He has an unerring eye for choosing the best. You will be in charge of the purse strings, however. John Bull tends to haggle for everything and I don’t wish to offend the merchants of Gravesend before they’ve even seen me.”
As Adam Savage approached Edenwood, he experienced a strange sense of coming home. As the carriage emerged from a stand of oaks, the magnificent house rose up before him in all its splendor. It was the culmination of his every hope and dream. He pulled the horses to a halt outside the stables and strode up the drive that led to the front entranceway. He needed to be alone while he viewed the house for the first time. As he moved from room to room, drinking in as many details as he could, he fell hopelessly in love. He took the circular staircase two steps at once and by the time he had stepped out on his bedchamber balcony atop the west portico he had surrendered up his heart.
Wyatt was a master, a genius. It would be a labor of love to furnish Edenwood. Though it would take time, he vowed to select each and every piece to beautify and enhance this perfect setting. Savage wanted to linger, to look and touch and breathe in every last detail, but duty called him. He knew he must carry on the other twelve miles to Stoke to meet the twins he had begun to think of as his son and daughter. That he had Edenwood to return to was a comforting thought.
Leaving his people to cope, as he knew they could, Savage mounted the Arab that John Bull had ridden and made his way to Stoke. He was struck by the remoteness of Lamb Hall. It was a lovely, warm country hall with a couple of tenant farms, but Stoke itself was just a rustic village. The Hall sat isolated on the edge of the Medway, just before it opened into the sea. It was a lovely place to bring up young children, but rather removed from the world for a youth of Anthony Lamb’s age, thought Savage.
Antonia saw the dark, powerful man astride the black horse as she glanced through the front window. She knew without being told who it was. Panic arose in her. “Roz! He’s here!” she cried, taking the stairs two at a time in hasty retreat. “Get rid of him!”
She now occupied Anthony’s chamber and she flung herself into a chair by the window where she would be able to see the unwanted visitor take his leave. She picked up her book, then set it unread upon her knee as her mercurial thoughts flashed about and her heart beat wildly with trepidation.
“Oh, God, Tony, why did you have to leave me to face him on my own?” she whispered accusingly. It had been almost two months since he had been lost. In her mind she was always careful to think of Tony as “lost” rather than “drowned.” She recalled how her brother had resented having a guardian to answer to, while she herself had had an insatiable curiosity about the man in Ceylon and the stately home he was having built.
Good God, what had possessed her to make all those extravagant and extremely costly suggestions to improve Edenwood? She’d done it from rancor. Since she had been deprived of money to spend, she had spent his, and with a lavish hand. Of course that had all happened before the boating accident while she thought their guardian in far-off Ceylon. Now she was masquerading as her twin brother and Adam Savage was a very real, flesh-and-blood authority figure who must be faced.
One glimpse of the powerful, dark-visaged man told her she had behaved idiotically. Only a fool would deliberately anger the man who had control of her life and finances until she became of age, and he did not look like a man who suffered fools gladly. Her heart sank as she realized she had no choice but to face him, but, oh, please God, not today.
Mr. Burke opened the door and took the man’s measure. Savage had no calling card, but in a deep voice he introduced himself to the majordomo and told him he was come to see Lord Anthony Lamb.
Roz came forward to greet him. “Good day, Mr. Savage, I am Rosalind Randolph, Anthony’s grandmother. Won’t you come in?” She exchanged a surprised look with Mr. Burke that told him Savage was nothing like she had expected. As she led the tall, dark man into the sitting room her heart did an erratic little dance at the impact of his dramatic looks. His face told her he probably had a sinister past and that his reputation with women would be scandalous. He was a man to be reckoned with. A devilishly attractive scoundrel.
Adam Savage’s penetrating blue gaze noticed every detail of the attractive older woman. This was where Eve had gotten her elegance, yet he could see Rosalind had been far more beautiful than her daughter. He waited until she sat down then took a seat opposite her. Without preamable he said, “Lady Randolph, I came to bring you words of comfort on my first visit. Your daughter is recovering well from the shock of Lord Russell’s death. She is a practical woman and knows it is better this way than having Russell linger for years as an invalid.”
“Thank you for news of my daughter, Mr. Savage. Eve has a resilience others would envy.”
Savage knew immediately that Rosalind was a shrewd woman. “From the moment I knew I was returning to England, I looked forward to meeting Antonia and Anthony.”
Suddenly a wedge of grief choked Rosalind’s throat and she had to fight back the tears. The man before her looked as strong as the Rock of Gibraltar and she had an overwhelming urge to tell him of their great loss. “Mr. Savage, we have had another bereavement. I’m afraid you will never be able to meet my granddaughter, Antonia.”
Savage was shocked. The note he’d received said they were in mourning, but he’d had no idea there had been another death. Dear God, when Eve learned she had lost her daughter, she would be distraught. His heart went out to the brave lady before him. “I am saddened by the loss, but when I think of your loss, madam, I am humbled. However did it happen, if you can bring yourself to speak of it?”
The note of compassion in his voice almost undid her, but she recounted the storm and the sailing accident with touching composure.
“You never found her body?” he asked.
Roz shook her head. “It was almost two months ago, so all hope is gone, I’m afraid. I have accepted it; I had no alternative,” she said sadly.
