Page 13 of The Undaunted
Lady Easton and Lord Bertridge did not know her history here. And, in any case, she came from a family that did not like to stand on ceremony and that was hardly a crime. In fact, she found it a far better habit than the standoffishness those two seemed to prefer.
When it appeared they must run out of criticisms they did not. Lord Bertridge apparently frowned upon her waving to him from her window the night before, and Lady Easton had fairly shuddered over the idea. Why? It was not as if he were a passing stranger!
As if the lecture at luncheon had not been sufficient, they went over the same ground at dinner. Was she a dunce that could not recall a conversation from only hours before?
She felt herself bristle at each new condemnation. Who did these people think they were? They downright implied that her father had not done right by her. They hinted that the kindest, most wonderful man alive had not done right by her.
Was it Baron Dunn’s fault that these two were wound tighter than a pair of clocks?
Oh, how she had wished to say something about their habits with clocks! And their habits in general. When Lady Easton was not correcting her, she was explaining that on Tuesdays they had fish. The lady had originally thought Fridays might be fish day but had decided it might appear papist.
Why must there be any particular day for any particular type of dinner? Was it too hard to manage consulting with the housekeeper each morning to compose a menu, as Lady Dunn always did? Was nobody to have their favorite dinner on their birthday, as was the case at Dunn Hall? Was nothing new to ever be tried?
There was something small about how they went on. At Dunn Hall, hadn’t they experimented with spices? The first try, a pepper soup, they found the cook had gone too far and everybody required copious amounts of milk to tamp down the flames in their mouths. They’d kept going, though, each new dish an adventure until they’d got it as they liked it—less cayenne and more ginger.
Hadn’t they laughed when the ill-advised aubergine casserole came out so wretched? Did they not still talk about Cook’s disastrous mushroom picking and thank the heavens they were all still alive? At Dunn Hall, there was life and adventure, fun and laughter.
She did not, of course, deliver any of the putdowns that occurred to her. Though there had been no end of things she had liked to say.
Now, and very loud, she said, “The two stickiest of the sticks!”
Prudence looked around the room and said, “What sticks, miss?”
“Oh never mind, Pru,” Caroline said. “Everything will seem brighter in the morning. At least, that’s what my father always says, and I am very sure he is right! He can quite be counted on to be right, thank you very much.”
*
Bramley darted aboutthe house as if he were a bird searching for an open window. He’d barely slept, trying to get the house in order, but it was nigh impossible! For one thing, where were the clocks? How was anybody supposed to know the time without clocks? Were they supposed to run outside and try to judge by the angle of the sun? Perhaps they might invest in a sundial!
Of course, he had his own fob watch to depend on. It was an elegant, enameled piece given him as a Christmas gift from Lady Easton. It had come on a black silk ribbon but the very next year the good lady had given him a silver chain for it. That was all well and good, but he was very much in the habit of checking his watch against multiple clocks. He supposed he’d have to listen for church bells like a medieval serf.
And where was the third dining room? There was only a breakfast room and a large dining room for guests. Lady Easton insisted on a small family dining room and there were none to be had at this location. What had Lord Easton been thinking, to rent a house with no third dining room?
The footmen were at sixes and sevens as they hardly knew where to be or what to do with themselves. Mrs. Wooton was doing her best with the maids, but a whole new routine must be established and how were they to do it when there were no clocks to tell them where they ought to be at any given moment?
Then, outside the front doors was not the comfortingly wide avenue of Portland Place nor the quiet countryside of Glenborough Hall, but a large expanse of a public green with people wandering around it at all hours! In the distance, across from this irritating patch of grass, was the Marine Pavilion. A den of iniquity, Lady Easton had called it. He believed it too. He supposed Mrs. Fitzherbert haunted its halls like a scandalous phantom.
One might have thought, with all these hurdles to be cleared, that Lord Easton would be on the scene and directing the preparations. But no, now that the gentleman had decided to have thoughts, he was having quite a lot of them. One of them seemed to be that he ought to be out and about very constantly and coming back a little worse for drink.
What was wrong with the man? Did he not comprehend that his wife was about to descend upon the house while nothing was in order? After all their years of marriage, did he not know how little Lady Easton cared for disorder?Hewas only the butler andheknew it! In truth, he entirely agreed with it.
Jonathan, the junior footman, fairly flew into the drawing room where Bramley was just now circling and fretting.
“They are here,” Jonathan said breathlessly, “Charles has just gone out to the carriage.”
My God. They were here. The dreaded moment had arrived.
Chapter Four
Bramley hurried towardthe front doors, which had been thrown open to receive Lady Easton to Brighton. The situation, as deplorable as it was, must be faced head-on.
Lady Easton sailed into the front hall, followed by the lady he presumed to be Miss Upton. Lord Bertridge soon followed after handing off his horse.
“Bramley,” his mistress said, “how have you got on?”
Before he could compose a calm and reflective answer, he cried, “My lady, there are no clocks! Not one clock in the whole place!”
He had expected Lady Easton to be staggered by this news. He was rather surprised when she said, “Fear not, Bramley, I have packed six of our own.”
