Thank you for your continued support. I appreciate it.
Standard disclaimer.
Madam,
My sincere thanks for your offer to speak to the tenants, regarding the drainage issues. However, since you are already burdened with many demands, I have sent my brother, William, to handle the problem. He will arrive at Hampshire Priory on Wednesday, and stay for a fortnight. I have lectured him at length about gentlemanly conduct. If he causes you a moment's distress, wire me and it will be resolved immediately.
My brother will arrive at the Alton rail station at noon on Wednesday. I do hope you'll send someone to collect him, since I feel certain, no one else will want him.
A. Pendragon.
P.S. Did you really dye the shawl black?
My Lord,
Amid the daily tumult of construction, which is louder than an army corps of drums, your brother's presence will likely go unnoticed.
We will fetch him on Wednesday.
Lady Pendragon.
In response to Gwen's letter, a telegram was delivered from the village post office, on the morning of Will's scheduled arrival.
Madam,
You won't be in mourning forever.
A. Pendragon.
Smiling absently, Gwen set down the letter.
She caught herself wishing, just for a moment, that Arthur was coming to Hampshire, instead of his brother. Then, she scolded herself for the ridiculous thought.
Sternly, she reminded herself of how he had distressed and unnerved her. Not to mention, the cacophony of plumbing installation that plagued her daily, at his insistence.
And she would not overlook the way he had forced her, to take down the mourning curtains...although privately, she had to admit, that everyone in the household, including the servants, took pleasure in the brightened rooms and unencumbered windows.
No, she didn't want to see Arthur. Not in the least.
She was far too busy to spare a thought for him, or to ponder what the clear, blue shade of his eyes reminded her of.
'Bristol glass, perhaps...' she thought.
Once again, she berated herself, then reminded herself, she had already forgotten the feel of his hard arms around her, that shiver-inducing scrape, of his shaven bristle against her skin, and the rasp of his whisper in her ear, when he said, I have you.
Bringing her focus back to the latest development, Gwen had to wonder at Arthur' reasons, for sending his brother to deal with the tenants.
She had seen little of Will during their previous visit, but what she had learned, had not been promising.
Will was a drunkard, and would probably be more of a hindrance, than a help.
However, it was not her place to object. And since he was the next in line for the Earldom, he might as well become familiar with the estate.
The twins and Cassandra were delighted by the prospect of Will's visit and had made a list of planned outings and activities.
"I doubt he will have much time, if any, for amusements," Gwen warned them, as they all sat in the family parlor with needlework. "Mr. Pendragon is here on a business matter, and the tenants need his attention, far more than we do."
"But Gwen," Athena said in concern, "We mustn't let him work himself into exhaustion."
Gwen burst out laughing.
"Darling, I doubt he's ever worked a day in his life. Let's not distract him on his first attempt."
"Gentlemen aren't supposed to work, are they?" Athena asked.
"Not really," Gwen admitted. "Men of nobility, usually concern themselves with the management of their lands, or sometimes they dabble in politics."
She paused.
"However, I think, even a common working-man, could be called a gentleman, if he is honorable and kind."
"I agree," Cassandra said.
"I wouldn't mind working," Bia announced. "I could be a telegraph girl, or own a bookshop."
"You could make hats," Athena suggested sweetly, arranging her features in a horrid cross-eyed grimace, "And go mad."
Bia grinned and said,
"People will watch me running in circles and flapping my arms, and they'll say, 'Oh, dear, Bia's a chicken today.'"
"And then I'll remind them, that you behaved that way, before you ever started making hats," Cassandra said serenely, her eyes twinkling.
Chuckling, Bia plied her needle to mend a loose seam.
"I shouldn't like to work, if it ever prevented me from doing exactly what I wished."
"When you're the lady of a great household," Gwen said in amusement, "You'll have responsibilities that will occupy most of your time."
"Then I won't be the lady of a great household. I'll live with Athena after she marries. Unless her husband forbids it, of course."
"Silly girl," Athena told her twin. "I would never marry a man who would keep us apart."
Finishing the seam of a detachable white cuff, Bia began to set it aside, and huffed, as her skirt was tugged.
"Fiddlesticks. Who has the scissors? I've sewed the mending to my dress again."
Will arrived in the afternoon, accompanied by an unwieldy assortment of luggage, including a massive steamer trunk, that two footmen struggled to carry upstairs.
Somewhat, to Gwen's dismay, all three Pendragon sisters greeted him, as if he were a returning war hero.
Reaching into a leather Gladstone bag, Will began to hand out parcels, wrapped in delicate layers of paper and tied with matching ribbon, as narrow as twine.
Noticing the little tags, each stamped with an ornate letter H, Athena asked,
"What does this mean?"
Will smiled indulgently.
"That shows that it's from Harcourt's department store, where I shopped yesterday afternoon...I couldn't visit my little cousins empty-handed, could I?"
To Gwen's dismay, any semblance of ladylike decorum fled.
The twins erupted in screams of delight and began to dance around him, right there in the entrance hall. Even Cassandra was pink-cheeked and breathless.
"That will do, girls," Gwen finally said, struggling to keep her expression neutral. "There's no need to hop about like demented rabbits."
Bia had already begun to rip one of the parcels open.
"Save the paper!" Cassandra cried. She brought one of the parcels to Gwen, lifting one of the layers of paper. "Just see, Gwen, how thin and fine it is."
"Gloves!" Bia shouted, having unwrapped a parcel. "Oh, look, they're so stylish, I want to die."
She held the wrist-length kid gloves, tinted a soft pink against her chest, with a dreamy expression on her face.
"Colored gloves are all the rage this year," Will said. "Or so the girl at the department store counter said. There's a pair for each of you."
He grinned at Gwen's obvious disapproval, his gray eyes glinting with mischief.
"Cousins," he said, as if that could explain such unseemly gifts.
Gwen narrowed her eyes.
"My dears," she said calmly, "Why don't you open your parcels in the receiving room?"
Chattering and squealing, the sisters hurried into the receiving room and piled the gifts on a satinwood table.
They opened each parcel with scrupulous care, unfolding the gift tissue and smoothing each piece, before placing it on an accumulating stack, that resembled the froth of freshly poured milk.
There were more gloves, dyed in delicate shades of violet and aqua, tins of sweets, pleated paper fans with gold and silver embossing, novels, a book of poetry, and bottles of flower water, to be used for the complexion or the bath, or sprinkled on the bed pillows.
Although none of it was appropriate, except perhaps the books, Gwen couldn't find it in her heart to object. The girls had long been deprived of small luxuries.
She knew that Liam would never have thought of bringing gifts home for his sisters.
And despite the family's relative proximity to London, the girls had never been to Harcourt's. Neither had she, since Lady Gemswick had disliked the notion of rubbing elbows in a large store, crowded with people from all walks of life.
She had insisted instead, on frequenting tiny, exclusive shops, where merchandise was kept discreetly out of sight, rather than spread willy-nilly over the counters.
Stealing glances at Will, Gwen was disconcerted by the flashes of resemblance, he bore to his older brother...the same blonde hair and assertive bone structure.
Though, Arthur's striking good looks were marred in his brother, whose features were ruddy and soft with dissipation.
But Will was nothing, if not well-groomed...in fact, he dressed too lavishly for Gwen's taste...wearing an embroidered silk waistcoat and jaunty patterned necktie, paired with gold cuff links, with what were either garnets or rubies.
His only drawback, was, even now at midday, he smelled strongly of liquor.
"You may not want to glare at me quite so fiercely," Will murmured to Gwen sotto voce, as the sisters gathered up their gifts and carried them from the room. "It would distress the girls, if they were to realize, how much you dislike me."
"I disapprove of you," she replied gravely, walking out to the grand staircase with him. "That's not the same as dislike."
"Countess Pendragon, I disapprove of me." He grinned at her. "So we have something in common."
"Mr. Pendragon, if you..."
"Mightn't we call each other cousin?"
"No. Mr. Pendragon, if you are to spend a fortnight here, you will conduct yourself like a gentleman, or I will have you forcibly taken to Alton and tossed onto the first railway car, that stops at the station."
Will blinked and looked at her, clearly wondering if she was serious.
"Those girls are the most important thing in the world to me," Gwen said. "I will not allow them to be harmed."
"I have no intention of harming anyone," Will said, offended. "I'm here at the Earl's behest, to talk to a set of clodhoppers about their turnip planting. As soon as that's concluded, I can promise you, I'll return to London with all possible haste."
'Clodhoppers?'
Gwen drew in a sharp breath, thinking of the tenant families and the way they worked and persevered and endured the hardships of farming...all to put food on the table, of men such as this, who looked down his nose at them.
"The families who live here," she managed to say, "Are worthy of your respect. Generations of tenant farmers built this estate and precious little reward, they've received in return. Go into their cottages, and see the conditions in which they live, and contrast it with your own circumstances. And then, perhaps, you might ask yourself, if you're worthy of their respect."
"Good God," Will muttered, "My brother was right. You do have the temperament of a baited badger."
They exchanged glances of mutual loathing and walked away from each other.
Fortunately, the girls kept the conversation cheerful at dinner. Only Cassandra seemed to notice, the bitter tension between Gwen and Will, sending her discreet glances of concern.
With each course, Will asked for new wine, obliging the under-butler, to fetch bottle after bottle from the cellar.
Fuming at his wastefulness, Gwen bit her tongue to keep from commenting, as he became increasingly soused.
At the conclusion of the meal, she ushered the girls upstairs, leaving him alone at the table with a bottle of port.
In the morning Gwen rose early, dressed in her riding habit, and went out to the stable as usual.
With the assistance of Mr. Bloom, the stable master, she would start training Ahmad, to resist shying at objects that frightened him.
Bloom accompanied her out to the paddock, as she led Ahmad with a special training halter.
She had quickly come to value Bloom's advice. He did not believe, that physically restraining a horse, especially an Arabian, was the right way to help him overcome his fear.
"Tha would only break his spirit, binding him up like a fly in a spider's web. He'll take his reassurance from thee, milady. He'll trust tha to keep him safe and know what's best for him."
At Bloom's direction, Gwen grasped the lead rope under Ahmad's chin and guided him to take a step forward and then a step back.
"Again," Bloom said approvingly. "Back'ard and for'ard, and again."
Ahmad was perplexed but willing, moving back and forth easily, almost as if, he was learning to dance.
"Well done, lass," Bloom praised Gwen. He was so involved in the training, he forgot to address her by her title. "Now tha's taking up all his thoughts and leaving no room for fear."
He placed a crop in her left hand.
"This is for tha to tap his side, if need be."
Standing by Ahmad's side, he began to unfold a black umbrella. The horse started and nickered, instinctively cringing away from the unfamiliar object.
"This umbrolly scares tha a bit, lad, doesn't it?" He closed and opened the umbrella repeatedly, while telling Gwen, "Make the task tha's given him, more important than the thing that scares him."
Gwen continued to move Ahmad in the back-and-forth step, distracting him from the threatening movement, of the billowing black object.
When he tried to swing his hindquarters away, she tapped him back into place, with a touch of the crop, not allowing him to put distance between himself and the umbrella.
Although the horse was clearly uneasy, his ears swiveling in every direction, he did exactly as she commanded.
His hide twitched nervously at the umbrella's proximity...but he didn't shy away.
When Bloom finally closed the umbrella, Gwen smiled and patted Ahmad's neck with affectionate pride.
"Good boy," she exclaimed. "You're a fast learner, aren't you?"
She took a carrot stub from the pocket of her skirt and gave it to him. The horse accepted the treat, crunching noisily.
"Next, we'll try it as tha rides him..." Bloom began.
He was interrupted by a stable boy, Fred, who hadn't yet reached his teenage years.
"Mr. Bloom," the boy said breathlessly, hurrying up to the paddock railing, "The head groom bade me tell you, that Mr. Pendragon has come to the stables for his mount."
"Aye, I told the lads to saddle Royalty."
Fred's small face was pinched with anxiety.
"There's a problem, sir. Mr. Pendragon is the worse for drink and isn't fit to ride, but he ordered them to bring the horse to him. The head groom tried to refuse, but the land agent, Mr. Carleon, is there as well, and he said to give Royalty to Mr. Pendragon, because, they're supposed to ride out to a tenant farm."
'Once again,' Gwen thought in panicked fury, 'A drunken Pendragon is going to try to ride a horse from the stables.'
Wordlessly, she climbed through the paddock rails, in too much of a hurry to bother with the gate.
She grabbed handfuls of her riding skirt and ran to the stables, ignoring the sound of Bloom calling after her.
As soon as she entered the building, she saw Will gesturing angrily at the head groom, Johnathan, whose face was averted.
The land agent, Carleon, stood by, looking impatient and embarrassed. He was a portly middle-aged man who resided in town, and had been employed by Liam's family, for more than a decade.
It would be his job to escort Will to the tenant farms.
One glance, was all Gwen needed, to take stock of the situation.
Will was red-faced and sweating, his eyes bloodshot, and he was swaying on his feet.
"I'm the one to judge my capabilities," he was saying belligerently. "I've ridden in far worse conditions than this and I'll be damned if..."
"Good morning, gentlemen," Gwen interrupted, her heart hammering.
Without warning, the image of Liam's stricken face, appeared in her mind...the way he had looked at her, his eyes like cooling embers, as the last seconds of his life ticked away.
She blinked hard, the memory vanishing and the reek of alcohol drifted to her nostrils, provoking a touch of nausea.
"Lady Pendragon" the land agent exclaimed with relief. "Perhaps, you would be able to talk sense into this half-wit."
"Indeed." Without expression, she took hold of Will's arm, digging her fingers in, as she felt him resist. "Come outside with me, Mr. Pendragon."
"My lady," the land agent said uncomfortably, "I was referring to the head groom..."
"Johnathan is not the half-wit," she said curtly. "As for you, Mr. Carleon...you may attend to your other responsibilities. Mr. Pendragon will be indisposed for the rest of the day."
"Yes, my lady."
"What the devil is going on?" Will spluttered, as Gwen towed him outside and around to the side of the stables. "I dressed and came to the stables at the crack of dawn..."
"The crack of dawn was four hours ago."
When they had reached a relatively secluded place, behind an equipment shed, Will shook his arm free of her grip and glared at her.
"What is the matter?"
"You stink of spirits."
"I always begin the day with brandied coffee."
"How do you expect to ride, when you're not steady on your feet?" she asked.
"The same way I always ride...badly. Your concern for my welfare is misplaced."
"My concern is not for your welfare. It's for the horse you intended to ride, and the tenants you're supposed to visit. They have enough hardship to contend with, they don't need to be subjected to the company of a drunken fool."
He gave her a baleful glance.
"I'm leaving."
"Don't you dare take one step away." Discovering that she was still clutching the riding crop, Gwen brandished it meaningfully. "Or I'll thrash you."
Will's incredulous gaze went to the crop.
With startling speed, he reached out and wrenched the crop from her, and tossed it to the ground. The effect was ruined, however, as he staggered to regain his balance.
"Go on and say your piece," he snapped.
Gwen folded her arms across her chest.
"Why did you bother coming to Hampshire?"
"I'm here to help my brother."
"You aren't helping anyone," she cried with incredulous disgust. "Do you understand anything about the burden that the Earl has taken on? About how high the stakes are? If he fails and the estate is divided and sold, what do you think will happen to these people? Two hundred families cut, adrift with no means of supporting themselves. And fifty servants, most of whom have spent their entire lives, serving the Pendragons."
As she saw that he wasn't even looking at her, she took a quivering breath, trying to contain her fury.
"Everyone on this estate is struggling to survive and we're all depending on your brother, who's trying to solve problems, that he had no hand in creating. But instead of doing something to help, you've chosen to drink yourself silly and totter around like a selfish lumping idiot..."
Her throat worked around an angry sob, and she swallowed it down, before continuing quietly.
"Go back to London. You're of no use to anyone here. Blame me if you like. Tell the Earl that I was too much of a bitch to tolerate. He'll have no difficulty accepting that."
Turning, she walked away from him, throwing a few last words over her shoulder.
"Perhaps, someday, you'll find someone who can save you from your excesses. Personally, I don't believe you're worth the effort."
Stay safe!