Regency Surrender: Scandal And Deception. Marguerite Kaye

for it. Fanworth likes to pretend that he is gruff and imposing. But he is not usually moved to violence. And Arthur?’ Louisa sighed. ‘Arthur frequently deserves to be hit. At one time or another, we are all disappointed in him. Yet, Father seems to like him best of all. There is no pleasing some people and that is that.’

      ‘You seem to have a most unusual family,’ Margot said, as politely as possible.

      ‘Perhaps that is true. Some say the upper classes are prone to eccentricity. If so, there are few houses that can compete with Larchmont.’

      ‘If your father is so set on perfection, I suspect it makes your brother’s choice of wife all the more unacceptable,’ Margot said, resigned to her role.

      ‘Perhaps you did not understand my meaning,’ Louisa said with another little sigh. ‘There is no woman likely to find acceptance in a family led by my father. The fact that she was chosen by Stephen would be reason enough for him to find fault.’ Then she smiled. ‘For my part, I love my brother very much. If he loves you, that is reason enough for me to love you, as well.’

      Now Margot should explain that it was not a love match at all. Despite what Louisa had told her of their conversation, she suspected her husband barely tolerated her when she was not in his bed. But when she was? Her skin grew hot at the thought of the previous night’s sport.

      Perhaps that was a solid basis for a marriage and the rest did not matter. And to see this lovely young woman smiling before her and holding out the family olive branch was too tempting. ‘If you welcome me, of course we will be friends,’ Margot said cautiously.

      ‘Or sisters, if you wish,’ Louisa said, with a hopeful smile.

      ‘I already have a sister,’ Margot responded, then noticed the other woman’s smile falter. ‘But that is no reason that I cannot have another one.’

      Louisa smiled again. ‘I have never had one. And few friends because...Father,’ she said as if that explained it all. ‘Mother is a dear, of course. But there are times it would be nice to have someone nearer my own age.’ She glanced around her. ‘Even if you are so often here.’

      ‘I work here,’ Margot said, testing her reaction to the word. ‘But since I am the owner, I could be a bit more free with my time.’ Hadn’t Jasper suggested such a thing just yesterday? Perhaps the world would not end if she was not here from dawn to dusk. ‘When your brother used to visit here, I spent many happy hours talking with him.’

      ‘Talking. With. Fanworth.’ Louisa’s first expression was one of incredulity. Then it settled into a warm smile. ‘Of course. I think this makes everything much clearer. When Mother heard how beautiful you were, she was rather worried.’ She stood, ready to take her leave. ‘But I will tell Mother that you have talked with Fanworth, for hours at a time. It will set her mind at rest.’

      Margot stood as well and returned a smile to this rather cryptic remark, not wanting to think too hard on what the duchess had assumed about her character. ‘Thank you for your visit. And your kind words.’

      ‘And thank you, for the sake of my brother.’ Louisa smiled again. ‘I will come again, soon. If that is all right.’

      ‘Of course.’ Margot escorted her to the door. As she waved goodbye and watched Louisa and her maid stroll down the street, she felt more hopeful about her future than before, but no less confused.

       Chapter Fifteen

      Stephen spread the afternoon mail out on the writing desk in the salon and sighed. The packet of letters was not as large as he would have hoped. After his recent marriage, there should be invitations to balls, routs, or at least a dinner or two. Most importantly, there should be something addressed to Lady Fanworth.

      Hopefully, Margot would not notice the degree to which she’d been snubbed. So far, the only event they would be attending was the hastily arranged reception Justine was hosting to celebrate the wedding and to welcome her brother-in-law, the Duke of Bellston, to Bath.

      His parents would be in town by then. If they attended, it would give him a chance to introduce the family on neutral ground. Mother would be charming wherever they met her. But Larchmont was more likely to be civil if another peer was present. Much to his father’s annoyance, the Bellston title was the older and respect for tradition would force him to be on his best behaviour.

      If the rest of the town did not see this party as a reason to welcome them, then they could all be damned. Since the majority of the ton followed the Regent to Brighton, it hardly mattered what people thought here. They would manage well enough until it was time to retire to Derbyshire and by the London Season, it would be old news.

      But while he could ignore the snubs of strangers, he would not abide dissension in the staff. When he had come on holiday, he’d brought Mrs Simms, and the cook along with him. He liked his comforts and, in Derbyshire, those two women fussed over him like two hens with a single chick.

      But it appeared that his marrying a woman of a lower class did not meet with their approval. Worse yet, he had entertained her in his home before marriage and they knew for a fact that she was not as virginal as her snowy-white gowns.

      The insults to his wife were subtle, but frequent. Mrs Sims had been able to keep her own counsel while he’d entertained Margot as a mistress in the house she managed. But her patience had come to an end the moment he announced he would be marrying her. At any mention of the wedding or the bride, Mrs Simms had taken to sniffing in disapproval. She had done it so often that he had enquired of her whether she had a cold, or some chronic condition that affected her breathing.

      Cook was little better. Lady Fanworth’s portion of last night’s wedding supper had been practically inedible, as if she thought that it might be possible to starve the interloper out of the house. It was only Margot’s kind-heartedness that had saved the pair of them from a dressing down worthy of Larchmont at his most temperamental.

      As it sometimes was with servants, the lady’s compassion was greeted with more contempt than obedience. And now they were growing so careless as to be gossiping in the front hall, oblivious to the fact that the master of the house was listening to every word.

      ‘I suppose it will be dinner in the bedroom, again,’ said Cook in a disgusted voice, ‘while a perfectly good dining room stands empty.’

      ‘Herself is too busy to use it,’ Mrs Sims responded, equally annoyed. ‘Down to that shop, dawn until dusk.’

      ‘Perhaps I should ask her to stop at the grocer’s on her way home,’ Cook said with an evil chuckle.

      ‘It makes more sense than that we be waiting on her,’ Mrs Sims agreed. ‘A tradesman’s daughter. No better than us, really. The duke will never approve. Of course, her Grace’s blood is as blue as the Princess Charlotte’s.’

      Stephen rose, throwing down the letter he had been holding. By God, he had heard more than enough. They had served in the family since before his birth. But he would sack the pair of them if this was how they behaved when he was not in the room.

      ‘Ladies.’ Margot had heard as well. She had come home hours earlier than usual, totally unprepared for a household contretemps. If he’d handled the problem last night, as he should have, he might have saved her from this embarrassing encounter.

      ‘Your ladyship,’ both women responded in unison and there was a moment of silence to cover what must have been the most hypocritical curtsies ever performed.

      Stephen waited for his wife’s response. Had his mother ever been in such a situation? He doubted it. She held the staff in check as Lord Nelson held the Navy. But then, she was past fifty and had been the daughter of an earl before becoming a duchess. If his sister had been presented with such a problem, it would have reduced her to tears.

      And Margot was barely older than Louise.

      ‘Despite the concerns you voiced a moment ago, dinner