Louise Allen - Regency Surrender - Passion And Rebellion

‘I would never,’ cried Mary, ‘ever use such a thing. Not on an animal, let alone a person!’

* * *

‘I know,’ he snapped.

There was no need for her to say it. She was such a gentle creature—too gentle for her own good, sometimes.

He’d heard Lady Peverell’s tirade well before he’d reached the room, her voice was so strident. And though she’d spoken venomously, he couldn’t deny there was an element of truth to what he’d overheard. Julia could be...a bit of a handful. She was a Durant, after all, with the Durant will and the Durant temper.

And he could just see her running rings round Mary, given half a chance.

Well, he’d just have to make sure she didn’t get a chance.

He stilled as it struck him that Mary’s happiness was now just as important to him as Julia’s had ever been. Which was ironic, considering he’d only married her so he could provide a home for Julia. Yet now this had become Mary’s home, too. She loved it here. He’d watched her blossom in it. Delight in it.

And he didn’t want Julia’s moods to ruin it all for her. It would be totally unfair to expect her to deal with Julia—in this frame of mind, anyway. Not even Lady Peverell could exert any sort of control over his sister, so how could he expect Mary to take her in hand? Why, she couldn’t even keep Mrs Brownlow in her place. The dratted woman had promoted herself to the position of housekeeper and was running Mayfield just as she pleased.

‘You needn’t be afraid of Mary,’ he said to Julia. ‘She has the kindest heart imaginable. Honestly,’ he said when she continued to cling to him, whilst looking at Mary as though she was some kind of ogre. ‘I made sure of it before I married her.’

Mary flinched. Made sure of it? How? They’d only known each other a few days before he proposed.

And yet he’d made that list, hadn’t he? A list that ensured the woman he picked would provide a home for his beloved, treasured sister. The girl he was holding in his arms. The girl who’d flown to him. Who called him by his given name without thinking, when so far Mary had never dared be so familiar....

She always had to call him my lord, or husband, or occasionally, when she felt very daring, Havelock. Because he’d never invited her to share the intimacy his sister naturally took for granted.

Though she was sure Julia hadn’t meant to, the girl had given her a very brutal reminder of what her place in his life really was.

A means to an end.

‘She’s been very busy,’ said her husband to his sister, ‘putting this old place to rights, so you could come home.’

‘C-can I have my old room back?’

He shook his head. ‘Sorry, Ju. The family wing hasn’t been used in such a long time it’s still a bit of a mess. But there are any number of rooms in what used to be the guest wing you can choose from.’

When she didn’t stop pouting, Lord Havelock chucked her under her chin. ‘How about coming and having a look? A couple have good views over the stables.’

‘The stables?’ Julia stopped crying abruptly. ‘I...I suppose that would be...’ She sniffed and wiped her tear-stained face with the back of one hand.

‘And even better,’ he went on, before she had the chance to form her thoughts into words, ‘I’ve got something inside the stables that will put a smile back on your face.’

‘A new horse? For m-me?’

‘Welcome-home present,’ he grinned. ‘Saw Panther at Tatt’s and knew he’d be just the thing to put the roses back in your cheeks. Want to come and meet him?’

Julia shook off her angry, tearful demeanour the way a dog shakes off water after a dunking.

‘Oh, yes, please.’

All smiles and arm in arm, brother and sister left the room without a backward glance. As though Mary didn’t exist.

And then Mrs Brownlow came in, with a tea tray. Behind her came Susan, who was the chief housemaid, with another tray, laden with cakes and other dainties.

‘Where has everyone gone?’ Mrs Brownlow looked most put out to find that her efforts to whip up a tray of refreshments for their unexpected visitors had all been for nought.

‘Lady Peverell has gone home. And Miss Durant and his lordship have gone to the stables.’

‘And what are we to do with miss’s luggage?’ said Mrs Brownlow, plonking her tray down on the nearest table with a clatter. ‘There’s boxes and trunks all over the hall. I can’t just leave them there. One of my girls will be tripping over them and breaking her leg, I shouldn’t wonder. What room shall I have them taken to?’

‘You could have them taken up to the guest wing and placed in...oh, I don’t know. How about the room that has all that crimson brocaded wallpaper?’

‘It’s not really suitable for a young girl, my lady. Far better to put her—’

‘Well, one of the rooms that overlook the stables, if you please,’ she said more firmly. ‘And if she doesn’t like it, she can pick another one. You needn’t unpack anything. Just move her luggage up there, so it is out of your way.’

‘Hmmph,’ said Mrs Brownlow, before bustling out with Susan in tow.

Leaving Mary in sole charge of an enormous pot of tea, half a dozen cups and more cakes than she could eat in a fortnight.

Chapter Twelve

‘Julia, I think you have something to say to Lady Havelock, do you not?’

Julia hunched her shoulders and lowered her head. ‘I’m sorry I was rude to you when I got here,’ she muttered.

Good grief. Lady Peverell had said Julia was completely unmanageable, but at only a hint from her brother, she’d apologised for her behaviour. Grudgingly, it was true, but it was far more than she’d expected.

And she was very grateful. She hadn’t been looking forward to enduring many more dinners like the one they’d just sat through. It had been bad enough getting used to the formality of the immense dining room anyway, and letting footmen wait on her, but having to try to make conversation with a girl who clearly wanted nothing to do with her, whilst grappling with the reminder of her unimportance to her own husband, had been downright demoralising.

‘Think no more of it,’ she said. ‘It sounds as though you’ve had a perfectly horrid time with Lady Peverell. Frankly, I was appalled at the way she spoke about you as though you weren’t even in the room. If it had been me in your shoes...’

She frowned at the recollection that it had been all too easy to picture herself in Julia’s place. Though she’d never had the courage to make a fuss, the way Julia had done, or demand her own way. She’d just meekly allowed people to dispose of her as they liked. She’d let them parcel her off like...like a bundle of dirty washing for someone else to launder.

How she wished she had a tithe of Julia’s spirit.

‘Well, anyway, I just want you to be happy here. It is your home, after all.’

‘I don’t remember much about when I lived here before,’ Julia retorted. ‘I was still quite young when Mama married again and we had to move away.’

And yet she’d requested her old room back, reflected Mary.

‘We can soon rectify that,’ put in Lord Havelock. ‘There are some splendid rides to be had in the area. And now you’ve made the acquaintance of Panther I’m sure you’d like to put him through his paces. Tomorrow I’ll start taking you about and introducing you to people.’

Julia’s face lit up.

Mary’s hackles rose. He’d never offered to take her about and introduce her to anyone. He’d never bought her a horse, either. Not that she had any use for one. But that was beside the point. He simply hadn’t bothered.

* * *

Lord Havelock smiled back at his sister, then turned to Mary with a troubled frown. It was just as well he’d already reined himself in, in an attempt to spare Mary’s blushes after that time Brownlow had nearly caught them out. He certainly wouldn’t want Julia catching him chasing his wife through the house and tumbling her on sofas. It wasn’t the kind of behaviour he wanted his sister to think was acceptable. And, dammit, it wasn’t.