“At least they fit at the wrist now. You wore those lovely Regency gowns that fit up high and fell straight to the ground.”
“Aye, they were lovely, all that light muslin, no corsets or petticoats to weigh you down, but so many ladies caught dreadful colds because they wore so little. At least today you won’t catch an inflammation of the lung. Hmm. I find it unusual that you know how to dress since you don’t appear to have a husband to select your gowns for you, like these two.”
“I have a fine sense of style, ma’am. Thank you for remarking upon it.”
Alex was utterly baffled, as were the rest of the people in the room. There was utter silence save for Hallie and the dowager’s low voices. The door opened and Douglas came striding in, evidently on a mission to save Miss Carrick. Alex grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t move,” she whispered. “I can’t believe this, but you’re not needed.” Douglas looked at Miss Carrick, and saw his mother’s hand lightly caressing her green sleeve. He froze as had everyone else in the drawing room, his jaw dropped.
Lady Lydia looked over and smiled at her eldest son. “My darling boy, have the red-haired girl pour the tea. At least she’s learned how I take it now.”
“And you appreciate that, don’t you, Mother?”
What was going on here? Hallie wondered. Lady Lydia ’s mouth was a tight seam. At the earl’s continued silence, she nodded. “Yes, I am most appreciative.” She turned back to Hallie. “Are you here to marry Jason? My poor precious boy is in need of a good steady girl, a strong girl with nerves of oak. Yes, that is probably the most important requirement of his wife.”
“Why, ma’am? Is he of such a delicate disposition?”
“Oh no, it’s entirely something else. Well, are your nerves strong as a carriage wheel?”
“Yes, ma’am. But why?”
“Both my beautiful grandsons are gentlemen to their quite well-shaped feet, more’s the pity. Jason’s wife must be able to protect him from all the hussies who continually hunt him down with the intent of taking advantage of him.” She shot a look over at Corrie, who was staring fixedly at her, her mouth open. “What is the matter with you, Coriander? You look like a landed trout. It is not attractive. It will give your husband a disgust of you.”
Corrie shut her mouth.
Lady Lydia said to Hallie, “My James’s wife is many things, Miss Carrick, but I will say this for her, she’s strong as the stoutest oak branch. James rarely goes about without her. He knows she will protect him. She has learned to throw herself in front of him when ladies hurl themselves in his path to gain his attention. Coriander tells him his attention is all he will ever bestow, and then only if the female in question has gained her fiftieth summer.”
Jason said, “Grandmother, Miss Carrick is not here to marry me. We barely know each other.”
“I believe the best marriages begin with the exchange of names, nothing more,” said the dowager. “Look at you, my dearest boy, no female with eyes in her head would not try to hunt you down. Poor James now-”
The earl cleared his throat loudly.
“Humph,” said the dowager.
Jason didn’t understand why she hadn’t yet blasted Hallie, but since no one had drunk any tea as of yet there was time for her to change her mind and decide Hallie was an encroaching hussy, like his mother.
“Then why are you so dirty, my boy, if you weren’t chasing her all about the grounds?”
“And she caught me several times and dirtied me up?”
“That’s it, yes.”
“Sorry, Grandmother. You know I bought Lyon ’s Gate. I was working there today. I had no time to change my clothes. Forgive me.”
“You were working like a common laborer?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Lady Lydia accepted a cup of tea from her daughter-in-law. Douglas watched her shake it around in the cup for a moment, saw that she wanted desperately to complain about it, but she knew if she did, she would not be invited back until the hussy herself invited her back, and she could be dead by that time. Hollis passed a lovely large tray filled with scones, lemon tarts, tiny seed cakes, and small cucumber and ham sandwiches, sliced into myriad shapes.
Jason saw Miss Carrick place her tea and plate containing two lemon tarts on the floor beside her. She looked perfectly content to remain at his grandmother’s feet. Just you wait, he wanted to tell her, just you wait until she decides your hair is brassy, or those lovely eyes of yours are sly, or God knew what else.
The dowager sipped her tea, grimaced only a little bit, then announced, “No matter Coriander’s faults, and they are multitudinous, she has presented James with two lovely boys, the very image of his beautiful aunt Melissande, who should have been wedded to-”
Douglas cleared his throat, watched his mother poke a tart into her mouth and chew it vigorously, and said, “Jason, you have the look of a contented man. Tell me how everything is going at Lyon ’s Gate.”
Jason sat forward, clasped his hands between his knees, forgot that he was dirty and smelled of dried sweat, forgot that Hallie would be living with him and that she was half owner of Lyon’s Gate, and said, “Oh yes. I want you to come over soon, Grandmother, and tell me what you think of my home. The stables are a perfect size, and once we got them all cleared out and cleaned up, we could see the excellent workmanship.” He continued to speak, and everyone smiled at him, nodded, asked questions. It was as if no one else in the room existed except Jason, Hallie thought, eyeing him. Not a word about her, but she’d quickly realized that no one wanted to shock the dowager. And, of course, he’d just gotten home after being away for a very long time. Were they all afraid he would leave again? This time for good? So no one said anything to bruise his tender feelings?
When Jason wound down, a silly grin on his face, Hallie said in a quiet voice to the dowager, “Perhaps you and I could visit Lyon ’s Gate together.”
The old lady chewed slowly on her ham sandwich, which had been shaped by Cook to look like one of the full oak trees outside the drawing room window. Slowly, she nodded. “Yes,” she said, patting Hallie’s sleeve, “I should like that very much.”
Hallie finished a lemon tart. “We will visit early next week.” She grinned. “Do you know when I first saw Hollis only a while ago, I asked him if he was Moses?”
“Moses? That crickety old man? Hmm. He does look rather like some ancient prophet, doesn’t he? I can remember the days when he chased down James and Jason, tucked them under his arms, and delivered them to their tutor, he was that strong. They were ten years old, I remember. What did Hollis tell you?”
Hallie’s lip quivered. “He said no, he wasn’t Moses, he was God.”
The old lady laughed, a cackle really, but it was full-bodied, even though it sounded like rusty nails grinding together. “Did you really, old man?”
Hollis, who was serving some cream onto Corrie’s scone, finished what he was doing, then raised his head and smiled at the dowager. “Certainly, madam.”
CHAPTER 15
Five mornings later at the breakfast table, Alex said, “The messenger you sent to Mrs. Tewksbury returned today with her reply.” She handed Hallie a pristine white envelope, for the messenger had carefully wrapped the letter in a white cloth. She wanted to tell Miss Carrick it was her responsibility to pay the messenger, but that might be a bit heavy-handed.
“Jason, listen. Angela is arriving at the end of the week!”
Douglas said, “You know, Jason, you cannot move into Lyon ’s Gate until it’s habitable enough for the ladies.”
“I agree. However, I can.”
Hallie said without missing a beat, “You’re going nowhere near Lyon ’s Gate with a pillow and a bed unless I’m with you.”