To Love Again E-Book

Philippa Carey

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 187

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

After the death of his wife, James, the Earl of Benfield, struggles with his war injuries and raising his two young daughters. On a weary journey, he meets Emma, Lady Collins, a widow herself, who is equally weary from her travels. Their chance encounter leads to a shared tea in a crowded inn, sparking a friendship. As they navigate societal expectations and personal grief, they find solace and understanding in each other’s company, leading to the possibility of new love and healing.

Leseprobe

To Love Again

by Philippa Carey

Come In To My Parlour

James, Earl Benfield, walked slowly and painfully down the road, leaning heavily on his two walking sticks. There was a cold wind whistling through the bare branches of the roadside trees.

He shivered, despite having his coat collar turned up high and his beaver hat pulled down as far as it would go. He had been desperate for some quiet and some fresh air, after sharing a crowded carriage all day with his two young daughters, their nurse and their governess.

It had been tempting to travel in the second carriage with his valet and their mountain of baggage, but he didn’t feel he could. He always felt guilty about how little time he spent with his daughters after their mother had died, but still, it had been an exhausting day.

Both girls had soon got bored, fidgety and tired of watching the scenery go by. Their governess had tried to keep them occupied, but they were not in the mood, so she quickly got frustrated, too, and irritable in her attempts.

Perhaps he should have put the girl’s nursemaid in the other carriage to make a little more space. She was good-natured and hard-working, but a bit empty-headed and unable to entertain the girls, either.

He had originally intended to travel a little further today as well, but enough was enough. They had all finished the day tired, bad-tempered and grumpy.

If only he had been able to ride beside the carriage, he thought, but it was equally impossible. The girls needed his company and in any case, he couldn’t ride a horse all day now. Curse the French, curse Napoleon and curse the army surgeon who had set his broken bones so poorly.

He noticed a carriage coming down the road and wasted no time in moving slowly to the side. Moving out of the way quickly was no longer an option. He watched the carriage as it passed and caught a brief glimpse of a lady who glanced at him as she went by.

James turned to watch the carriage as it entered the inn yard. He should go back to the inn. It had been a short walk, and welcome, but his legs were already too painful to go further. Besides, now he was in the open air, the chill of the November wind was very noticeable and he was happy to turn his back to it. The fresh air was just a bit too fresh.

His daughters would be eating their tea in the private parlour and while they did, he could rest his legs and try some of the local brew in the undoubtedly warm public bar.

* * * *

Emma was glad to reach the inn. She was tired of sitting in a carriage all day. Her maid Molly had a lot of common sense and was very competent, but not what Emma would consider scintillating company. Emma was always revived by a good strong cup of tea and now she was more than ready for one and a piece of cake to go with it. As she entered the inn, the landlord bustled forward, wiping his hands on his apron.

“Good evening. Lady Collins, I presume?” he said.

“Yes. You have a reserved room and private parlour for me, I believe?”

He grimaced and sucked air through his teeth.

“I have the room, but I am afraid the parlour is at present occupied. A titled gentleman arrived and he insisted very strongly upon taking the parlour for his daughters, the nursemaid and their governess.

“They are all taking afternoon tea at the moment, but will surely be finished soon. I shall get the maid to take you up some hot water so that you can refresh yourself in the meantime.”

“There seems little point in sending ahead a reservation if you then give the room away,” Emma said peevishly. For the last ten miles, she had had her heart set upon the tea and cake before doing anything else.

“I do beg your pardon, madam, the fault is entirely mine,” a deep masculine voice behind her said.

She whirled to see who else might be ready to annoy her. It was the man in the road she had glimpsed from her carriage.

Surprise caught her tongue. He was not a decrepit old man on walking sticks as she had at first thought, but a decrepit young man on walking sticks.

His face was slightly shadowed by the upright collar of his coat, but his features were arresting. Except for the tired and dejected expression on his face and a slight stoop, he was definitely rather handsome and probably in his early thirties or late twenties, most likely little older than she was.

Even resting on his walking sticks, he was still a shade taller than Emma. A strand of brown hair poked out from under his hat and across his forehead.

As the lady had turned to face him, James could see past the brim of her bonnet. She was a young and unhappy vision of loveliness. She had a heart-shaped face, marred only by an angry frown and pursed rosy lips. She had a trim but shapely figure and was well dressed in a dark green gown, with a fur-lined cloak which had been opened at the front.

An aristocratic voice had only emphasised that this was a lady of quality who expected to be made comfortable.

After a tiring and stressful day, he did not need more aggravation from this assertive lady.

“I must apologise. My daughters were fractious after a day cooped up in a carriage and I didn’t know what else to do with them.

“I am afraid I browbeat the landlord here into letting us have the room for a while. If you give me a few minutes I shall eject them so that you may have your parlour.” He turned to the stairs, put both walking sticks in one hand and reached for the banister with the other.

“Oh, wait,” Emma said, feeling contrite. There was no need for her to inflict her discontent on other people when they had been perfectly sensible and reasonable, especially if they were merely trying to care for their children.

“Perhaps we might share, if the room is not too small?” She looked at the landlord, who nodded gratefully.

“Thank you,” James said. He paused, then held out a hand, as it was obviously difficult for him to bow. “Benfield, at your service, ma’am.”

She shook his hand.

“Lady Collins. I am so sorry to inconvenience you, but I too am weary from sitting in a carriage all day and desperate for some tea.”

“Not at all, it is we who have inconvenienced you. If you would follow me I will ensure that they make space for you and then leave you in peace to drink your tea.”

He started up the stairs, step by slow step. Emma resisted the temptation to help him. He would probably be offended, and besides, they had only just met.

Instead, she turned to the landlord and told him to send tea and cake up to the parlour, have someone show her maid to their room and to get someone to take her bags up.

By then, James had progressed sufficiently up the stairs so that Emma could follow but would not seem to be crowding him impatiently.

Sad Revelations

As they entered the parlour, four sets of eyes looked up and then over James’s shoulder to see Emma behind him.

“Girls, Miss Trellis, make your bow to Lady Collins, if you please,” James said. “We have stolen her private parlour and she has graciously agreed to share it with us.”

The two young girls, nursemaid and their governess rose to their feet and curtseyed to Emma who nodded in return.

“Lady Collins, my daughters, Lady Sarah,” he said, indicating the elder, “and Lady Helen, and their governess Miss Trellis – and their nursemaid Amy.” He pulled out a chair at the empty end of the table for Emma.

Emma sat and smiled at the girls, who smiled tremulously back, before clambering back up into their seats again.

“If you will excuse me,” James said, “I shall go back downstairs and see that tea is sent up without delay.” He headed for the door.

He still needed some time to himself, aided by a pint of the landlord’s best, to restore his good humour. Besides, he did not want to be obliged to make small talk with a stranger, even if she was a very attractive stranger.

Miss Trellis was perfectly capable of taking charge in the parlour and making sure Lady Collins was not troubled.

Emma looked at the girls who had glanced at each other, but had not spoken. They were obviously sisters and both had dark red hair, presumably like their mother, as they didn’t resemble their father very much at all.

Their hair fell in ringlets down to their shoulders and they wore white dresses sprinkled with embroidery. Sarah’s was fastened with a wide green satin sash and Helen’s with a similar blue.

They were both pretty girls and very properly sitting up straight at the table. As they were both fairly small, Emma supposed they were sitting on cushions. They were quite young, perhaps eight and six years old, and seemed worn out.

Their governess, in a dark grey gown buttoned to the neck, looked severe and Emma suspected they had been told not to speak unless they were spoken to. This was easily solved.

“Your father said you were tired from spending all day travelling. Have you come far?”

“From Oakham, my lady,” Lady Sarah said.

“And it was very long and very tedious,” her younger sister Lady Helen grumbled.

Miss Trellis frowned at her but said nothing.

“Oh, I know what you mean,” Emma replied.“I’ve come all the way from Spalding and there was hardly anything to see along the way. The countryside in that direction is quite flat and not at all exciting.”

“It’s better in the summer when the trees are in leaf and there are flowers to see,” Sarah agreed, “but at this time of year it all looks very bleak.”

“And when you have seen one sheep, you have seen them all,” Helen said, with an accusing glance at Miss Trellis.

Just then, a maid entered the room with a tray full of tea things and a plate of small cakes. The girls addressed themselves to the food on their plates while Emma poured herself a cup of tea. After savouring her tea and sighing with relief, she glanced at the cakes.

“Do you recommend any of these?” she asked, waving a hand at the cakes and glancing up at the girls.

Both girls paused and peered over the table to see what Emma had on the cake dish.

“I liked the Banbury cakes best,” Sarah said in a considered fashion.

“I liked the jam tarts better,” Helen said.

“And I didn’t like the Marchpane,” Sarah added.

“No, our cook makes it much nicer than they do here,” Helen said.

“In that case I shall avoid the Marchpane and try the Banbury cakes and jam tarts instead,” Emma said, putting one of each on her plate. “Are you going far tomorrow?” she continued.

“We are going to Baldock to visit Grandmother,” Sarah said.

“It’s her sixtieth birthday,” Helen added, “and Father said the whole family is going, so we’ll see our uncle, aunt and cousins. Father said we must be on our best behaviour and a credit to him.”

“Is your mother already there?”

“No, our mother died of a fever two years ago,” Helen said, looking mournful. “I can hardly remember her.”

Sarah poked her sister in the ribs with her elbow and frowned at her.

“Oh, I see,” Emma said, realising her question had been tactless. She should probably have guessed as much if they were travelling with their father only. “I’m so sorry to hear that, it’s very sad.”

Miss Trellis looked embarrassed.

“Come along, girls, finish what you have on your plates before we go upstairs to bed.”

Sarah looked rebellious, as if she thought it was too early for bed.

“Lady Collins, are you going far?” she asked.

“I am going to London, to Stratton Street, to stay with my brother and his family until the New Year.”

“Father says we will going to London after Grandmother’s birthday to see some of the sights, but I would rather be at home.

“The snow in London always seems grey and dirty and it’s very cold to be driving around looking at old uninteresting buildings. It would be better to be at home and play in the nice clean snow around our house.”

Emma blinked. She was a little surprised at such plain speaking by a very young girl. She had the impression that this Lady Sarah was clever, and old for her years, being obviously thoughtful and well spoken.

“Old buildings? Are you not going to see the menagerie at the Tower of London or Astley’s Amphitheatre for instance?”

“No, Father can’t manage the walking and Miss Trellis is visiting her family for Christmas.” Sarah looked resentfully at her governess.

“Oh. That is unfortunate,” Emma said, “but couldn’t your maid take you?” She looked at Amy who looked startled at the prospect.

“No, there’s nobody,” a glum Sarah said, shaking her head. “Amy would get lost.”

Amy nodded agreement to this blunt appraisal.

“That is quite enough now, Sarah, it is time both of you went to bed. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow. Say goodnight to Lady Collins,” Miss Trellis said.

Both Sarah and Helen looked sad. Emma wasn’t sure if it was the prospect of going to bed when they would prefer to talk or the prospect of a dreary time in London.

The four of them rose, said goodnight and filed out of the room, leaving Emma with her thoughts and the remaining cakes.

Emma’s thoughts were sad, too. She hadn’t been married to Peter very long before he went off to war three years ago and never came back. If they had been married longer, she might have had a daughter or son to care for, to talk to, and to remind her of Peter as well.

How she wished she had two daughters just like Sarah and Helen. Her brother had three sons, but nephews simply weren’t the same and she hardly ever saw them anyway.

* * * *

Emma woke up to the noise of shouting men and horses whinnying, snorting and stamping their feet. She opened her eyes to realise it was still dark but there were flickering lights showing through the curtains.

Fire, she realised immediately, and clambered out of bed to see what was going on. As she went to the window and pulled the curtains back, her maid Molly joined her and they both looked out to see the stables at the back of the inn were on fire.

“Quickly, Molly, we must get dressed in case the fire spreads,” Emma urged.

“Yes, my lady, but I think we should be safe. Look, the wind is blowing the flames away from us and the stables have a tiled roof. It must be just the straw and wood inside that’s burning.”

Emma hesitated as she surveyed the scene outside. Molly was no fool and almost certainly right. The stable yard was full of men rushing around and frightened horses looking for a way to escape the flames.

A group of men were pushing the carriages away from the burning building.

“You may be right, but we must get dressed anyway, in case the wind changes direction.”

Minutes later they went downstairs to the public bar with Molly clutching her mistress’s jewel box to her chest. In the bar they found Lord Benfield with his family group.

“Ah, good, I was about to send Miss Trellis upstairs to find you,” he said. “My valet and the grooms are helping outside, but obviously a cripple like me has to keep out of the way.”

Emma was surprised by the bitterness in his voice, but could see his point. Presumably he was frustrated he couldn’t help in the emergency like the other men and humiliated that he had to stay with the women.

“I suggest we stay here for the time being. We are right by the front door should we need to leave in a hurry, but there is no point in standing in the cold and catching a chill,” he continued.

“Lady Collins, we’re scared,” Sarah said in a voice that trembled. “If the fire comes this way, we’ll have to go outside, where all the horses will be frightened and rushing about.”

“Father says we have to keep away from nervous horses,” Helen added, “otherwise one might fall on us and break our legs as happened to him.”

Emma looked in surprise at them telling her these things, as she was essentially a stranger. She could see the girls really were afraid and shaking, despite the presence of their father, nurse and governess. Her heart went out to them, so she joined them on the settle and put an arm around each of them.

“Now there’s no need to be afraid,” she said, “my maid Molly is clever and says the wind is blowing the fire away from us.”

Everybody glanced at Molly, who looked self-conscious, but nodded vigorously anyway.

“Even if the fire did come this way, we could simply go out of the front door over there and there aren’t any horses at the front. All the horses are in the yard at the back, so we will be quite safe.”

Emma hoped this was the case, because she suspected that horses were leaving the yard at the back to get away from the fire and it was unlikely anybody would try to stop them, whichever way the horses went. They could be anywhere.

However, this was a detail that two small girls didn’t need to consider. Both looked somewhat reassured, so she cuddled them closer.

She looked up to see their father looking blankly at the tableau they presented. He closed his mouth which had been hanging open. She frowned slightly at him, daring him to object, but he merely gave a slight nod as if he had understood the message.

“Yes, quite so,” was all he said to confirm the opinion, before pulling out a chair to sit down.

Emma wondered how to divert the girls from worrying about the situation.

“Well,” she said to them, “why don’t I tell you a story while we wait?”

“A story?” Sarah asked. “What kind of story?”

Emma looked down at Sarah, wondering what would be most distracting or appropriate. She noticed again, the dark red hair of Sarah and her sister. Red hair was unfashionable, not that it mattered much to small girls.

However, it might not stop some people making disparaging remarks, so there was merit in making it into something positive. Thus, not Goldilocks, who was a selfish girl and then ran off when confronted. Instead a confident Rubylocks, who would stand her ground with the three bears. But bears were brown, so not bears, either, but . . . foxes.

“Let me see,” Emma said, putting a theatrical finger to her bottom lip. “How about the story of Rubylocks and the three foxes?”

“Don’t you mean Goldilocks and the three bears?” Helen asked.

“Oh, no, Goldilocks was a quite different girl. Rubylocks was a much nicer girl who had lovely red hair just like yours.”

Emma proceeded to tell them the story which was vaguely similar to the one about the three bears.

Rubylocks was someone who politely asked the foxes for help when she got lost in their woods. The foxes gave her food and let her rest before guiding her home, so it was much more positive story. She quickly had everybody’s rapt attention, even their father, especially when she made noises like the foxes barking.

As she finished the tale, the back door opened and a man with a sooty face entered.

“It’s all under control now, my lord. A lamp had fallen on to some straw. The grooms are making sure all the embers are damped and the horses are safely out in the meadow. You may go back to bed now if you wish, but we will all have a late start in the morning. It’s too dark until then to clear out all the ash and retrieve the horses.”

“Thank you, Norton,” James said to his valet. “When you’ve finished helping them outside, just clean yourself up and go to back to bed. Don’t worry about me, I can get myself upstairs and to bed.”

“Lady Collins, may we have another story, please?” Sarah asked with a pleading face.

“No, no, Sarah,” her father said, “you must let Lady Collins go back to bed now, as the rest of us should as well. Say your thanks, and back upstairs the pair of you.”

Sarah pouted a little and sagged with disappointment.

“Thank you, Lady Collins, that was a wonderful story. I do wish we had time for another.”

“I’m afraid not. It’s time we all went back to sleep after all this excitement. We will all have another long day tomorrow,” Emma said. “Perhaps your father, or Miss Trellis, or Amy could tell you one on your journey tomorrow.”

Sarah glanced at her father, then her governess and then Amy with a look of resignation before taking her sister’s hand.

“Good night, Lady Collins,” both girls said before they went off upstairs with the servants.

James waited until they had all gone before turning to Emma.

“I am much obliged to you, Lady Collins, for so effectively taking their minds off the fire and calming them. It is at times like this that we all regret the loss of their mother two years ago. A father, governess and nurse are no real substitute.

“Good night and thank you. I hope we will see you before we depart tomorrow.” He stood and made his way slowly upstairs.

Emma watched him go. Poor girls. It was clear why they had befriended Emma so readily. Their governess seemed to be dry, humourless, without imagination and not the sort to mother two lonely little girls.

The nurse didn’t appear to be very bright and their father had his own problems. Thank goodness the girls had each other.