The Marquess Move Read online

  Justin had done his best to listen to Father and make him proud, but truthfully, he was wary of the man. Wary and not a little…disgusted. Father had a habit of coming home and making Mama cry. It had happened time and again since Justin’s earliest memories. At some point he and Veronica had come to expect it. Mama and Father would shut themselves in the room down the hall from the nursery. Mama would beg her husband not to return to London and his mistress, and Father would apologize and agree. Only to leave months later to Mama’s sobbing.

  At first, neither Justin nor Veronica had even known what a mistress was, but as they’d grown, they’d worked it out. While Veronica had turned angry at their father, Justin had resigned himself to disgust. Justin loved his mama so fiercely, he hated to see her cry. He couldn’t understand why Father would ever make her weep.

  Justin had followed his father all the way to the far end of the pond that graced the middle of the property when Father stopped, dismounted, and tied his horse to a nearby tree. He waited for Justin to do the same before clapping him on the back and guiding him down toward the water’s edge.

  Justin sucked in his breath. He’d been waiting for a moment like this for months, years even. He was so rarely alone with his father. Today he intended to confront the older man about his abominable treatment of his wife.

  “I’m glad we’ve had the chance to spend the day together,” Father began, staring out across the still water. “I daresay it’s long past time I should have begun teaching you how to go about being the marquess.”

  “Indeed,” Justin replied, his tone sharp. He straightened his shoulders and folded his arms behind his back, summoning the nerve to say what he must. “We could spend more time together if you weren’t so often in London.”

  Father’s bellowing laughter rang across the pond. “Ah, now, you cannot blame me for that, my boy. London holds much more excitement than the country. You’ll see soon enough. I intend to take you back with me.”

  “Pardon?” Justin’s head snapped to the side to face his father.

  “That’s right,” Father said, a wide smile on his face. “You’re nearly fourteen years of age, Justin. Your birthday is next week. It’s high time I show you the pleasures London has to offer a young man of your station.”

  Justin swallowed hard. He wasn’t at all certain he was ready for whatever pleasures his father was speaking of, but spending more time with his father and getting to see more of London—he’d only visited a time or two—was intriguing.

  “I’ll take you around, introduce you to some of the girls,” Father continued.

  “The girls?” Justin replied, his throat going dry.

  “Oh, they’ll love you. Especially the younger ones.” Father waggled his brows.

  Justin swallowed again. “Yes, well, I wanted to speak with you about something…else.”

  Father frowned. “What is it?”

  “It’s mother. She’s terribly upset about your m-mistress.” There. The word had nearly lodged in his throat, but he’d managed to get it out.

  Father’s face turned to a mask of stone. “Your mother shouldn’t speak of such things to you.”

  Justin cleared his throat. He’d gone this far, he had to see it through. “On the contrary, she hasn’t. It’s just that I…I’ve overheard your arguments and Veronica and I—”

  “You and Veronica have no business listening to my private conversations,” Father snapped.

  Justin forced himself to lift his chin. He refused to back down. “I don’t like to see Mama cry.”

  Father’s countenance softened, and he moved closer and clapped Justin on the shoulder. “Neither do I, believe me. It’s hardly my choice that she gets so emotional. But men…we have…needs…and those needs are often best fulfilled by, well, the types of ladies one encounters in London. You’ll see.”

  “I don’t want—”

  “Of course you don’t. Not now. You’re young yet. But I wouldn’t be doing my duty to you if I didn’t introduce you to the pleasures of London Society. Out here, I’ve taught you to sit a horse, meet with tenants, command servants, and keep the books, but in London, well, you’ll see.” His father gave him a leering wink.

  Justin recoiled and forced himself to clear his throat and try again. “But Mama—”

  “Your mother has always been far too emotional. And Veronica is just like her, I’m afraid. But you, you my dear boy,” he clapped Justin on the back again, “you’re just like me and you always have been.”

  Justin had swallowed hard, fear spreading through his chest like fire. Dear God. Was that true? Was he just like his father?

  A month later, Justin arrived back at the estate after his trip the London. He rushed inside to greet Veronica, Mama, and the little twins. Veronica was out riding her horse. The twins were napping. But Mama was there. Dear, sweet Mama hugged Justin fiercely the moment he launched himself into her arms.

  “How was your time in London?” she asked, a bright smile on her face.

  Justin cleared his throat, not wanting to share any of the details with his mother. They were not appropriate, and Father had warned him to keep such things to himself.

  “I had a fine time,” he said solemnly. The truth was, he’d taken to the London scene like a duck to water. His father had been right. He was just like him. Justin had drunk too much, kissed beautiful young women, played card games, learned curse words, smoked several delightful things, none of which were good for him, and when he’d finished all that, he drank some more. He’d never had a better time.

  But now that he was with his mother, guilt tugged at his conscience. He knew well the things Father did in London were the things that made Mama cry.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Mama said, wistfully staring out the front window at the drive. “Did your father…stay in town?”

  “Yes,” Justin admitted, pushing the tip of his boot along the carpet.

  Mama tried to fake a smile for him.

  “Are you sad again, Mama?” he managed to ask, regardless of the lump in his throat.

  She shook her head. “I’m just glad to have you back, dear.”

  “But you miss Father?” he prompted.

  Mama stared wistfully off into the distance. “It’s my own fault. I never should have married for love. It’s absolute hell to give your heart into another’s keeping.”

  Justin shook his head to clear it of the uncomfortable memory. For some reason, the image of the mysterious Madeline flashed through his mind. Last night he’d been prepared to rip the town—or at least Hazelton’s house—apart to find her, but after a good night’s rest, he’d realized he’d been foolish to think he should continue to look for her. Even if he found her, what would he say? It wasn’t as though he intended to court her, nor as though she were the type of lady looking for an arrangement.

  She was almost certainly a debutante, and he was not looking for a wife. When he did look for one, he would be looking for a lady who wanted no more than his title and her place in Society. Not one with romantic notions and the desire to dance at balls. That was the same sort of young lady who was looking to fall in love, and Justin wasn’t the sort to fall in love. Just like his father, he would not make a good husband. And while he was just like his father in every other way, Justin would not repeat his father’s mistakes. Father had married a woman who loved him and wanted him to be faithful. Justin knew better. He had no intention of putting a loving wife through hell.

  It was much better that Lady Henrietta had taken the earbob and disappeared. Justin had already decided that he would not question her further on the subject. There was no sort of future for him with Madeline, no matter how captivating his two brief interactions with her had been. He was better off concentrating upon launching his sisters into Society. To that end, stubborn Eliza needed a lady’s maid. Mama had discussed the matter with him in his study just this morning. She’d asked him to speak to his sister on the subject. Now was as good a time as any.

  “Eliza,” he said, folding down the edge of his newspaper to look at her. “I intend to call upon the employment agency tomorrow to find a proper maid for you. You may come with me if you wish, but either way, I plan to leave the appointment with a good prospect to hire.”

  Eliza didn’t so much as lift her eyes from her book. “Oh, there’s no need, brother. I already found someone.”

  He blinked and frowned. “You did?”

  “You did?” Mama stopped her perusal of the cards. She met Justin’s gaze with a mixture of amazement and disbelief on her face.

  “You did?” Jessica echoed, the pianoforte falling silent.

  “Yes,” Eliza replied. “In fact, she’s upstairs getting settled now.”

  “I’m happy to hear it,” Mama replied. She exchanged an impressed look with Justin. If Mama wondered how Eliza had managed to locate and hire a maid so quietly, she didn’t mention it.

  “That’s right,” Eliza continued. “I received a recommendation from a…friend and settled it all yesterday.”

  Justin eyed his sister carefully. He didn’t miss the funny little smile on her face even while her attention remained focused on her book. She was up to something, but regardless, if she’d found a maid, it was one less thing to worry about, and that suited Justin. “That’s sorted then,” he said, settling back in his seat and snapping open the paper once again.

  “Where is the new maid?” Jessica asked, obviously pleased that her sister had given in and done the proper thing.

  Elizabeth pointed a finger skyward. “I believe she’s upstairs unpacking her things. I intend to go up in a few moments and show her about. I’ll send her down to meet you later, Justin.”

  Justin didn’t look up. “No need. If you like her and Mrs. Sherman approves, I’m certain I shan’t find fault.” His housekeeper was as discerning as they come, and he trusted her implicitly.

  “Oh, I’m certain you’ll like her,” came Eliza’s confident reply.

  Chapter Twelve

  Maddie turned in a wide circle to survey her new bedchamber. It was larger than the one at the Hazeltons’ residence and she’d been informed by Mrs. Sherman that she was to have this room all to herself. What a luxury! In addition to a bed that was much grander than the one she’d left, with a newly filled fluffy clean mattress and half a score of thick, freshly laundered blankets and down pillows, the room also contained a bedside table, a wardrobe, and a small writing desk. At the Hazeltons’, she and Anna had been forced to share a small, rickety dresser and there hadn’t been wardrobe or desk in sight.

  Besides the improved facilities, when Mrs. Sherman told Maddie what her wages would be, Maddie was convinced it was a mistake. Only, she’d been too cowardly to ask in case she’d be pointing out an error that would be quickly rectified. The amount was nearly double what she’d made working for Lady Henrietta, and Maddie desperately needed it. Just this morning, she’d received a letter from Molly telling her that things were getting worse in Devon. Her sister had written to say that Mrs. Halifax had been encouraging Cousin Leopold’s visits. Apparently, the dastardly man was coming by twice a week to pay a call on Molly, which meant Maddie had even less time than she’d thought. She intended to write back to Molly posthaste, provide her sister with her new address, and ask Molly to wait before making any rash decisions. The more time Maddie had, the better. The increase in wages here was certainly a step in the right direction. She only hoped Molly would listen.

  Lady Elizabeth Whitmoreland. That was the name of the young lady Maddie was to serve now. She was certain she’d never met her or her mother, which was odd, and the way Maddie received notice of the new position was odder still. After being summarily sacked by Lady Henrietta two nights ago in the middle of the Twelfth Night Ball, she’d packed her things. The Hazeltons’ housekeeper had taken pity on her and allowed her to sleep on the floor in the kitchens as long as she promised to be gone by dawn. She’d woken up with the sun, gathered her small bag with the few items she owned, and taken off into the cold, foggy morning to wait outside the employment agency.

  Looking back, the only good thing that had happened the night of the ball—besides her first kiss—was the fact that Lady Henrietta had somehow found the diamond earbob. She’d also found Maddie in her room with Anna, still frantically searching. Lady Henrietta had also found her borrowed gown, slippers, fur stole, and the other earbob. Of course, it looked as if Maddie had stolen the items. There might have been a reason for her to have the slippers and gown in her room if she were mending them or cleaning them, but there was no good explanation for Maddie to have the earbobs. The earbobs had been her biggest mistake. They’d been so lovely and sparkly and elegant. She’d had every intention of giving them back the moment she was finished pretending.

  Embarrassed and deeply ashamed, she had foolishly attempted to explain herself, which had only made the situation worse. Lady Henrietta had looked as if she might have an apoplectic fit when she’d heard that Maddie had sneaked downstairs in her ballgown and earbobs. In the end, Lady Henrietta had been convinced Maddie was both a thief and a liar, and Maddie couldn’t blame her. She’d made a horrible mistake. One that she’d been certain would cost her life in London and her sister’s entire future.

  Maddie spent the next day at the employment agency, waiting in a long line for a chance to see Mrs. Hestrom, the proprietress, and explain herself. Mrs. Hestrom had been entirely unsympathetic and had explained that without a reference from Lady Hazelton, which she was certain to never receive, Maddie would not be able to procure another position as a lady’s maid. Not in London, at least.

  Maddie had been convinced her only option would be to return to the country and attempt to secure some sort of work there. It would pay far less, but what option did she have? She had been about to leave the employment office and trudge to the mail hack to secure a spot on the next coach to Devon when Anna had appeared quite unexpectedly and given her the card of a lady who had come to the back stoop of the Hazeltons’ house looking for her.

  The card had been from one Lady Elizabeth Whitmoreland and a note scribbled upon it asked her to come round the next morning to the servants’ entrance of the Marquess of Whitmore’s town house and ask for Mrs. Sherman. Maddie had barely believed her good fortune.

  She’d managed to beg one more night sleeping on the floor of the Hazeltons’ kitchens and then she’d arrived promptly this morning with Lady Elizabeth’s card in hand. She’d been hired on the spot (no references required—thank heavens) and shown to this lovely room.

  It was possible, neigh probable, that Lady Elizabeth would be an even more demanding and curmudgeonly employer than Lady Henrietta had been. Why else would a young lady hire a maid without an interview, or requiring a reference? No doubt, the woman had gone through maid after maid and was desperate. But that was fine with Maddie. She was desperate too. And for whatever reason, whether it was divine intervention or strange fortune, she was not about to question her blessings.

  A knock on the bedchamber door startled Maddie from her thoughts. She rushed over to swing it open. There, standing in front of her, was a beautiful young lady. She had dark hair, dark eyes, lovely high cheekbones and a friendly smile on her face. She was wearing a simple but expensive-looking green gown, and her hair was down, and it looked as if it could use a good brushing.

  “Good morning,” the young lady said. “I am Eliza, and you must be Madeline. Thank you so much for accepting the position.”

  Maddie’s mouth nearly gaped open. This beautiful young lady, her new mistress, was thanking her. And she’d introduced herself as Eliza, not Lady Elizabeth? “No, no, my lady,” Maddie hastened to say. “It’s I who should thank you.”

  “Nonsense,” Lady Elizabeth replied, still smiling. “You’ve no idea how desperately my mother has been nagging me to find a maid. I do hope I’m not too much trouble. I shall endeavor to cause you the least amount of it possible. But apparently, when one has one’s debut, one must do things like change into new gowns every time one turns around and have one’s hair set atop one’s head. A lot of nonsense if you ask me, but I suppose I cannot avoid it. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

  Maddie’s smile widened. Apparently, Lady Elizabeth was unconventional. Maddie liked her at once and had to bite back several hundred questions. Such as how exactly the lady had come by Maddie’s name. Best to hold her tongue for now until she had a better sense of Lady Elizabeth’s character. And why court trouble by bringing up the dreadful Hazeltons?

  “Come with me,” Lady Elizabeth said, gesturing for Maddie to follow. “I’ll show you my rooms and my things. Some gowns and bonnets are still on order at the modiste, of course, but there’s already a dreadful lot of it.”

  Maddie smiled again at her new mistress’s disgusted tone. Lady Elizabeth was not anticipating her upcoming Season with enthusiasm, to put it mildly.

  Shutting the door to her bedchamber behind her, Maddie gladly followed the young woman to the servants’ staircase, where they began their descent.

  “I’ll introduce you to Mama and Jessa, my twin sister. She’s also making her debut, and she’s much more interested in it than I am.”

  “Oh, how lovely it must be to have a twin sister,” Maddie exclaimed.

  “It is lovely,” Lady Elizabeth replied. “Only, I haven’t quite worked out how I can convince Jessa to pretend she is me half the time so I may skip all those dreadful parties for the Season.”

  Maddie couldn’t help the laugh that flew from her lips. “I’m terribly sorry,” she immediately exclaimed.

  “No need to apologize,” Lady Elizabeth replied, pushing open the door to the second floor and marching through it. “If you have any ideas, please do let me know.”

  They made their way down a corridor lined with an expensive runner, its walls graced with gorgeous oil paintings. If her own bedchamber hadn’t already informed her, Maddie would have realized immediately that this family was much wealthier than the Hazeltons.