Sarah Mallory

His Countess For A Week


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and fifty miles from here and I wager the roads will be shocking.’

      ‘But I am not going by road,’ Ran replied. ‘I have my sea legs now, you know.’ He grinned. ‘Joseph and I have booked a passage with a local vessel sailing to Plymouth on the morning tide!’

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      The weather proved fair for Randolph and Joseph’s journey to Plymouth, where they hired a coach to take them to Beaumount Hall. Ran looked about him with interest.

      ‘I had forgotten how it is here in autumn,’ he murmured, ‘the blaze of colour before the trees lose their leaves in winter. And it is greener, too.’

      A contentment settled over him. A feeling that he had come home.

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      As the Viscount had predicted, away from the towns the roads were not good and they were relieved when, after an hour’s bumpy travel, the carriage turned to pass between open gates and into a small park.

      ‘The drive appears to be in good order for a property that has been vacant for at least a year,’ remarked Ran. ‘Let us hope the house is similarly up together. Chislett said there were a handful of staff in residence. Now, what did he say was the name of the butler? Meavy. And his wife is housekeeper.’

      ‘I still think we should have sent word we were coming,’ muttered Joseph.

      ‘Devil a bit,’ replied the new Earl cheerfully.

      ‘You will look no-how if they can’t accommodate us and we have to find lodgings in Tavistock!’

      ‘Oh, I doubt it will come to that. We have slept under the stars before now.’

      ‘Aye, but that was on the other side of the world!’

      Ran merely laughed at his companion’s retort and leaned forward, eager for a glimpse of Beaumount Hall. He was not disappointed. It had been a fine day and the sun was setting in a blaze of golden light as the carriage swung around a bend and the house came into view.

      It was an impressive building over three floors. There was more than a hint of the baroque in the redbrick exterior with its creamy pilasters reaching to the roof line on the corners of the house. More pilasters flanked the door, which was topped by a stone hood, richly carved like a shell. Randolph grinned at his companion.

      ‘You may be easy, Joseph! The roof looks sound, so at the very worst we may sleep on the floor here tonight.’ The carriage stopped at the shallow steps and Ran jammed his hat on his head. ‘Come along, then. Let us see how Meavy reacts to our arrival.’

      However, when they were admitted to the house the butler looked surprised to see the new Earl, but not as shocked as Randolph had expected. Joseph had the letter of introduction from Chislett ready to wave before any suspicious custodians, but the butler scarcely glanced at it.

      ‘Welcome, my lord,’ he said, bowing. ‘It is unfortunate we had no notice of your coming today.’

      ‘There was no time,’ replied Ran, handing over his hat and coat. ‘If there is anything to eat in the house, then bring it to the drawing room, if you please.’

      ‘Very good, my lord. And what will you drink?’

      ‘I doubt you have any coffee.’

      ‘Lord love you, of course we have coffee, my lord. And tea.’

      ‘A pot of coffee, then.’ He glanced at Joseph. ‘You will come with me.’

      His valet maintained his silence only until Meavy had shown them into the drawing room and closed the door.

      ‘They will think it a pretty rum do, my lord, you taking refreshment with a servant.’

      ‘They will grow accustomed to it! And you are not a servant. You are my aide-de-camp. I have promoted you!’ He threw himself down into a chair beside the marble fireplace, where cheerful flames blazed. ‘Later I shall demand to know what the devil they are doing keeping fires burning here when there is no one in residence, but for now I am damned glad of it.’

      ‘Aye,’ said Joseph, sitting down. ‘Seems a strange set-up to me, however. Servants in livery and fires burning when they did not know the master was coming.’

      ‘Mayhap they light a fire occasionally to drive off the damp—’ Ran broke off as the door opened and Meavy came in with a tray of glasses and a decanter. He was followed by a plump woman in a white apron and with a snowy lace cap over her grey curls. She introduced herself as Mrs Meavy, the housekeeper.

      ‘The coffee will be ready in a trice, my lord, but I thought, in the meantime, you might like to take a glass of wine.’ She put a tray of cakes and biscuits down on a side table and turned back to the Earl. ‘Well, my lord, this is a to-do,’ she said cheerfully. ‘If I’d known you was coming, I’d have prepared a dinner for you, but with Her Ladyship being out for the day, all I have ready is an egg-and-bacon pie—’

      ‘Wait a moment.’ Ran raised one hand to stop the garrulous flow. ‘Her Ladyship?’

      The old lady blinked at him. ‘Why, yes, my lord. The Countess.’

      It was Ran’s turn to blink. ‘Countess? You mean the old Earl’s widow is in residence here?’

      He swore silently. He had not considered that possibility. Damn Chislett for not warning him!

      The housekeeper gave a fat chuckle. ‘Why, no, my lord. I means your Countess, o’ course!’

      Randolph ignored the choking sound coming from Joseph and concentrated on concealing his own astonishment.

      ‘Ah, yes. Lady Westray,’ he said, not betraying himself by the flicker of an eyelid. ‘She is gone out, you say?’

      ‘Aye, my lord. She went off to Meon House this morning to ride out with Lady Meon and then she is to dine there and stay the night.’

      ‘Is she indeed?’ He felt a laugh bubbling up and grinned at Joseph, who was still red in the face from coughing. ‘Then we shall join her there, once we have eaten something. Please bring us some of that pie, Mrs Meavy, and after we have dined, Joseph, you had best unpack and brush my evening coat!’

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      Ran gazed at himself in the long mirror, taking in the black coat with its gold buttons bearing the Westray crest. He had looked at it askance when he had pulled it out of the trunk of clothes the Gilmortons had procured for him, but now he gave a nod of approval.

      ‘Deb and Gil have surpassed my expectations,’ he declared. ‘Coat, knee breeches, the finest linen shirt, even footwear! Everything that is needed to convince doubters that I am indeed the new Earl.’

      He was in the master bedroom, where a fire had been hastily cobbled together. Joseph was tenderly brushing the new chapeau-bras that would complete his ensemble, but he threw his master a frowning look.

      ‘Aye, my lord, but who is this mysterious lady masquerading as your wife?’ He kept his voice low even though they were alone in the room. ‘I’ve asked a few questions, discreetly, of course, but all the servants can tell me is that she arrived two weeks ago along with her maid and took up residence. Gave some taradiddle about your being on business at t’other end of the country.’

      ‘And they believed it?’ Randolph fixed a diamond pin into the folds of his snowy cravat.

      ‘Why should they not?’ Joseph spread his hands. ‘They’d heard the new Earl had been found and summoned to come home and claim his inheritance. Nothing more.’

      ‘I suppose I had ordered Chislett not to blab,’ said Ran, fairly. ‘And the lady’s maid, the one person who might be able to tell us