When It Rained at Hembry Castle Chapter 24

Lady Daphne Meriwether

E

veryone in Hembry, castle and village, were back in full mourning—crepe for the women and armbands for the men. What would happen next? Two earls dead before the end of a year, the newest with a life in another country and only a daughter to show for it. What if he went back to America? What if he neglected his duties as his brother before him had? Even the household servants walked about on tiptoe, afraid that one wrong move would plunge them all into chaos.

Frederick, without being told, sensed the awkwardness as servants averted their eyes and villagers spoke to their feet when he was near. After a long discussion with Daphne about what to do, Frederick decided, as was his way, to address the problem directly. He gathered together the servants, indoor and outdoor staff, the villagers, the tradespeople, the farmers, and the vicar near the front entrance of the castle. He greeted them generously, shaking hands, listening to concerns, introducing his daughter to those who had not had the pleasure. When everyone quieted, he spoke with candor.

“Welcome, everyone. I’m glad you were able to join me here this beautiful summer afternoon. I know these past weeks have been a shock for you, as they have been for my family, and myself. Whilst we mourned the loss of my father only a year ago, it never occurred to me that we would be dealt such another tragedy in so short a time. Yet here we are, once again mourning the loss of someone we hold dear.

“I know you are all concerned about the future. You’re concerned about Hembry Castle and if it will weather this new storm. You’re concerned about the village, and you’re concerned about your places and your livelihoods. You have every right to be concerned, and if I were in your shoes I would be as well. The reason I gathered you all together is because I want you to know that Hembry Castle will continue as strongly as it ever has. With the loss of my eldest brother, the title, as well as the responsibilities, of the Earl of Staton are now mine. I assure you I intend to keep Hembry on course, to continue its current prosperity and to grow that prosperity into the coming years.” He reached out his hand to Daphne and pulled her closer to him. “My daughter, Lady Daphne, will be with me every step of the way, as will the Countess, my mother, who has helped to keep Hembry Castle moving forward for 50 years. I would like to say that nothing will change, but that can never be correct. Things change, circumstances alter, and it’s up to each of us to navigate through the unexpected with all the resilience we can muster. Though I never expected to become Earl, being the second son, I promise each and every one of you that I will work tirelessly day and night to rise to my new challenge with all the fortitude God has seen fit to give me. Thank you, good people of Hembry. God bless you.”

The crowd, stunned at first at being addressed so honestly by their lord and master, burst into applause. Frederick and Daphne walked through the crowd to mingle, and the people, one-by-one, like synchronized dancers at the London theaters, showed their respect as the men removed their hats and the women curtsied.

“My lord.”

“My lord.”

“My lady.”

“My lord.”

Overwhelmed, yet unable to show it, Frederick held out his hand to those closest to him, and the good people of Hembry grasped it willingly.

For Daphne,

little changed. Her father had taken control of Hembry some months before her uncle’s death, and whether she was referred to as Miss Daphne or Lady Daphne made little difference to her. She wasn’t a different person with an honorary title. After the rush of her presentation and her ball had passed, after the shock of her uncle’s death and her father inheriting the title settled, everything in the world became about Edward.

When her father was able to steal some time from Hembry to go to London to see to Daily Observer business (he was getting everything in order so he could officially hand over the editorship to Edward) she went with him. Her grandmother was thrilled, thinking Daphne had gone to participate in the goings-on of Society, perhaps to mingle more with Lord Darges at balls or operas or other soirées. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Daphne kept up with London Society through her father, who gave her the gossip he picked up at the club, tasty tidbits about the fine young ladies and gentlemen who had been guests at Daphne’s ball—who was pairing up with whom, who would never pair up with whom. There were already a few engagements, and lo and behold, the ravishing Lady Violet had indeed captured her man, the future earl. Otherwise, all was Edward. A month after her ball his collection of stories, now known as Tales from Southwark, was published by Fergusonandwately. The collection sold well from the day it was released. With the brisk sales, the publishers had already commissioned a new collection, and Edward wasted no time getting to work. It would be hard going for a while, editing the Daily Observer while writing his own stories, but he was used to the long hours, he told Daphne.

Three weeks after Tales from Southwark was released, Frederick hosted a dinner party for Edward at Staton House. True, the family was still in black for the Earl’s brother, but Frederick shared the same sentiment about mourning as his father and eldest brother, and he knew Richard would not want them hiding away at Hembry Castle when there was work to be done and lives to live. Fergusonandwately were at the dinner party, drinking the expensive wine and boasting about the many orders Edward’s book had already received, as though they alone were responsible for the success. Mr. Ellis stood behind Edward, his butler’s guard down enough to beam proudly at anyone who had a nice word to say about his grandson, which was everyone in the room. Mrs. Ellis had come from Hembry as well, and Daphne watched Edward’s grandmother loitering near the dining room, close enough to hear the praises heaped upon her Neddie. Once, after Frederick had offered a toast to “an extraordinary young literary talent who very well may be the next Mr. Dickens” she dabbed tears from her eyes with her apron.

The party was well attended. Frederick’s friends from the literary world—London editors, authors, and journalists—were there for an introduction to the young writer who had the backing of the Earl of Staton. Everyone wanted a piece of Edward, to shake his hand, to talk to him, to know more about him, to learn about his plans for the future now that he was both an author and the editor of the Daily Observer. Such drive, such talent for such a young man, they said. Five-and-twenty years old, and look at what he’s accomplished. Daphne made polite conversation with the wives of the editors while she waited for her turn to speak to Edward. The guests didn’t begin to dwindle away until after midnight. After they were alone, Daphne watched Edward slump onto the settee.

“Did you like your party?” she asked.

“I did. It was very generous of your father, and you, to do this for me. Many wonderful things have happened to me since you and your father arrived in England. I can hardly find the words to express my gratitude.”

“Papa and I are happy to help you however we can, Edward. You know that.”

Edward leaned his head against the back of the settee and closed his eyes. Some chocolate-colored hair fell into his face, and Daphne had to fight the urge to brush it back. She watched his breathing slow, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he had dozed off with the long hours he was working. Again, she wondered how Edward felt about her. It was the same confusion she had been having for months. There were still times when he acted as if he couldn’t see her enough. He would arrive at Staton House at any time, day or night, with news about how his stories were coming along, or perhaps he just needed to get out of his bachelor’s flat for a while, wanting some company to break up the long hours of solitude. In those moments he would talk to her as though she were the only one in the world who understood him, and Daphne thought he must feel more than friendship for her. But there were still times when he would keep his distance, and during those times when he spoke to her it was only in the most superficial manner. They hadn’t kissed again since their day in the rain at Hembry Castle. Yes, he had kissed her hand a number of times, but it wasn’t the same, was it? I should ask him once and for all, Daphne thought. I should find out how he feels about me.

Mr. Ellis cleared this throat. “Would you care for some tea, Lady Daphne?”

“No thank you, Ellis. I think your grandson is worn out by the festivities.”

“I apologize for his inconsiderateness. He’s been working very hard, my lady.” The butler prodded his grandson’s arm. “Edward?”

Edward sat up. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

Mr. Ellis peered at his grandson over the top of his spectacles. “Shall I get your hat and coat?”

“You needn’t be so formal, Grandfather, but yes, I should be leaving.” He held his arm out to Daphne as they stood. “I wasn’t sleeping, was I?”

“You were, but don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

Mr. Ellis returned with Edward’s hat and coat. Edward put on his hat and allowed his grandfather to help him with his coat. Daphne walked Edward through the foyer to the front door.

“I wanted to ask you,” she said.

“You can ask me anything.”

This was the time. She was going to ask him once and for all if she was imagining the warmth she felt from him sometimes. Then Mr. Ellis opened the door, and with the proximity of the butler so near, especially since he was Edward’s grandfather, she didn’t have the courage.

“What did you want to know?” Edward asked.

“I wanted to ask you about one of your stories. The one about the boy who was raised by his grandparents because his father was a spendthrift and his mother was so angry about the fact that his father was a spendthrift she couldn’t stop yelling. Was that about your family? I thought I recognized your grandparents from the way you described them.”

“There are pieces of me in all my stories, I reckon. And I owe more to my grandparents than I could ever repay.”

Edward nodded at his grandfather, then looked out into the London midnight. The sky was dark and flat, as though there had never been any stars, they were figments of the imagination, and only the moon was real. Edward exhaled and turned his full attention onto Daphne. He stared at her with such intensity she felt heavy under the weight of his scrutiny.

“I know I can make a success of the Daily Observer, even more so than it already is. And I know that if I work hard, very hard, then I can make a success of my books as well.”

“I know you can do whatever you set your mind to.”

“Then you believe in me?”

“Do you need to ask?”

Edward leaned close to her then, and Daphne was certain he would have kissed her if his grandfather hadn’t cleared his throat. Edward nodded at his grandfather, and as he left Daphne wished she had the courage to ask her real question.

Frederick officially handed

the running of the Daily Observer to Edward, though he still had business in London tending to his duties with the House of Lords. Daphne returned to Hembry Castle only to be overrun once again with her grandmother’s demands. The day after Daphne returned to the country, Lady Staton joined Daphne in her birdcage bedroom. The Countess stepped close to the wall with the brown tree and ran her hand across the mauve roses.

“The flowers are starting to fade, I’m afraid. Your grandfather had this room painted when we were expecting your father. Your grandfather hoped for a girl since he already had his son and heir, but your father was a boy, and then Jerrold was a boy. After you were born, your grandfather wanted so much for you to live here. He even added little accents he thought a little girl would enjoy.”

“I’m here now, and I believe Grandpa knows that.”

“It would make him very happy if he did, Daphne.” The Countess sat in the Queen Anne chair near the window and held her ear trumpet to her ear. “We have a matter to deal with and I need your help.”

“What is it?”

“You have been much asked after since your ball.”

“Have I?”

“Lord Darges has been particularly keen. I understand he plans to propose soon.”

“To who?”

“To you, silly girl. He’s infatuated with you.”

“I think he’s more infatuated with Papa’s fortune, and now I’m sure he’s fascinated with the estate.”

“He’ll be a duke one day, Daphne. He doesn’t need your father’s estate.”

“Whether the future Duke of Norley has his own money or not, he’s not for me, Grandma. Even Uncle Richard saw that. The night before he…” Daphne could hardly bring herself to say the words. “The last time I saw him he told me to run in the opposite direction of Lord Darges.”

“Obviously, he didn’t understand that a match with Lord Darges would be ideal for this family. You do realize that your father is getting on in years.”

“At all of 46.”

“He’s no spring chicken, Daphne, that’s all I’m saying. You must see that now your father is in the same predicament your uncle was…he needs an heir. There has been talk concerning our family among some unkind people about the circumstances of your uncle’s death, so we must work quickly before irreparable damage to our reputation has been done. Your grandfather would roll over in his grave if he could hear the talk about your Uncle Richard.”

“Like what?”

“Some are saying he was murdered. Others are saying he deliberately jumped. Your Uncle Richard would never jump into the river. He couldn’t swim. And as difficult as he was finding his new position, he would never disgrace the family by taking his own life. Then on top of everything else there’s an intruder loitering about the grounds. What if people find out? How would that look?”

“I think Society people would like having a loiterer about. It makes the house seem even more exclusive, like Hembry Castle is so important someone can’t leave it alone.”

Lady Staton tapped her ear trumpet as she considered. “There may be something to that. For now, we need to find a wife for your father and a husband for you, and we need to do so very soon. We need to make certain you’re both settled before the gossip grows vicious. You, young lady, need to be perfectly turned out at every moment. Escott has been formally named your lady’s maid. You’re not married yet, but I think it’s time you had your own maid. You and Escott get along well, I understand?”

“Yes, Grandma, I like her very much. But I don’t need as much help…”

“I know, dear, you’ve told me a hundred times. You’re used to doing these things for yourself. I could allow you to slide by a little when your uncle was Earl, but now…” Lady Staton closed her eyes, and when she opened them she couldn’t hide her sorrow. “Now things are different. Your father is Earl, and you are an Earl’s daughter. I simply cannot allow you to make your own clothing any more.” Lady Staton looked sympathetic, or as close to as she could manage. “I can see this bothers you, Daphne. But you cannot let your emotions get the better of you. True, you are half-American, and that is a weakness, but you are as much your father’s daughter as you are your mother’s, and I know you have it in you to be strong.”

Lady Staton rang the servants’ bell and Mr. Ellis appeared.

“Ellis, tell Escott to come at once.”

The butler returned a moment later with Pamela by his side. Lady Staton studied Pamela Escott as though she had never seen the young woman before.

“Pamela has been a big help to me,” said Daphne.

“She’s Escott to you now. Escott, you understand that your new role is maid to Lady Daphne?”

“I do, my lady.”

“I’d like you to have Lady Daphne try on the Worth dresses she brought with her from America. I know we’re still in mourning for my son,” the Countess drew in a breath, “but Lady Daphne will be out of black soon and we need to see that her dresses are ready when she is. They have never fit properly. You can mend them to fit Lady Daphne’s form?”

“I can, your ladyship. Miss Rowland taught me.”

“All right then. I want Lady Daphne to be the most beautiful woman in the room, whichever room she happens to be in. She has the face for it, the figure for it, and now her clothes must be impeccable and her hair must always be dressed in the latest fashion.” Lady Staton held her hands together like a picture frame as though she were a painter studying a form. “Do you understand?”

“I understand, my lady.”

“How long do you think it will take?”

“Today and tomorrow for the fittings, and depending on how many dresses there are, the rest of the week to mend.”

Lady Staton lowered her ear trumpet. She grunted, which Daphne took as her grandmother being pleased with Pamela Escott. Lady Staton waved her hand to dismiss them. Pamela followed Daphne to her bedroom and they spent the rest of the afternoon fitting the Worth dresses that Daphne thought had already been tailored to perfection.

Daphne couldn’t sleep that night. The ghosts are out, murmuring and stomping on the stairs, she thought. She had never noticed the sounds before her uncle’s death, though she would hardly be surprised if the old house were haunted. Ten generations of her family had lived there, their essences captured by the portraits on the walls. Since her uncle’s death she had seen his silhouette in the shadows, and she heard his laughter in the whispers of the wind. Sometimes the shadows seemed friendly, but that night Daphne was frightened. She heard the opening and closing of windows, and she heard stairs creaking when there should be silence. She heard the clipped conversation—between two ghouls? She didn’t know. After hours of restlessness, she drifted to sleep dreaming of her Uncle Richard.

Lady Staton had her way,

and the parade of suitors around Hembry Castle had begun. There were eligible young men over to dine, to ride, to shoot, or to simply be in Daphne’s way. She didn’t know what to make of the young men, especially since she was more unsure of Edward than ever before. He hadn’t written lately and he hardly had time to leave London with his work at the Observer and his new collection of stories demanded by Fergusonandwately in half the time he had to write Tales from Southwark. Daphne was dispirited, thinking she would never understand what Edward felt for her. The proximity of the young men didn’t help her feel better. She had never been a coquette, like so many of the young women at her ball with their girlish giggles, their fluttering eyelashes, their talking fans, and their coy smiles. She wasn’t interested in cultivating the attention of any of the young bachelors. They were nice enough, she was sure, but she didn’t want to ride out with them, despite her grandmother’s insistence, and she certainly didn’t want to marry any of them. When Lord Trevor’s eldest son cornered her after luncheon while she was rereading Edward’s stories in the rose garden, she slid away as gracefully as possible. When Caspar Bentham followed her into the library she showed him the book she was reading and then left him, and the book, behind.

Edward arrived at Hembry at the beginning of July. Frederick had returned to the country from London, and Edward was coming to seek Frederick’s opinion about some difficulties he was having at the Observer. Daphne didn’t care why he had come. Maybe she would finally pluck up the courage and ask him about his true feelings once and for all. The morning Edward arrived, Frederick suggested that young Mr. Ellis accompany Daphne on her walk to the Countess’ Garden.

“Unchaperoned?” Daphne asked.

“I believe I can trust this young man to do right by my daughter, can I not, Mr. Ellis?”

Edward bowed. “You certainly can, your lordship.”

Standing alone with Edward, Daphne felt as though she were near a stranger, one of the young men her grandmother had enticed to Hembry with promises of the hand of the Earl of Staton’s daughter. Mr. Ellis opened the door for them, and Daphne led Edward outside where the cloudless sky covered them like a blue smile. They continued in silence down the Countess’ Walk, a shady path lined by 100-foot-tall oak trees, and then they arrived in the Countess’ Garden. Daphne leaned over the dainty blue forget-me-nots, the lavender asters, the yellow honeysuckles. Edward stood under an oak tree watching her from the distance. His face, usually bursting with expression, was blank. He bent over the purple aubretias, plucked a cluster, and handed them to Daphne.

“Beautiful flowers for a beautiful young lady.”

Daphne held the purple petals to her nose to savor the sweet fragrance. They continued down the lane admiring the nasturtiums and the flower sage. After another moment of silence, Edward said, “You’ve had your hands full, I see. You’re like Penelope in The Odyssey fighting off the suitors eager to marry Odysseus’ widow. To the victor the spoils.”

“There will be no victors here, at least not the kind my grandmother wants.”

“Are you certain? I’m sure we can arrange an archery tournament to determine the lucky winner of your hand.”

“And who will play the role of my strong, dashing husband who swoops in to save the day?” Daphne stopped near the guelder roses and studied the white blooms. “Do you know Lord Havenham is 71 and has a granddaughter my age?”

“Perhaps he’s interested in you as a playmate for his granddaughter.”

“Lord Havenham told my grandmother he needs a young wife to keep him young.” Daphne shuddered. “As Penelope made herself scarce so she didn’t have to see the suitors, so have I.”

“I’m not dropping the idea of an archery contest so easily. You’ll discover the right man after he strings a bow and arrow.”

“Very well. The archery contest is a week from Saturday.”

They continued walking, their shoulders nearly touching. Several times they opened their mouths to speak but didn’t, so they returned to the Countess’ Walk in the same silence that enveloped them during most of their time in the garden. Finally, Daphne said, “Do you have to return to London soon?”

“I leave tomorrow, but I do wish I had more time here. I love it at Hembry. But duty awaits.” Edward stepped close to Daphne, close enough that their noses nearly touched. “Will I see you in London?”

“Papa is a peer now and has duties in the House of Lords, so yes, I’ll be in London when the Lords are in session. Between us, I don’t think I can take much more of my grandmother’s meddling. She’s frustrated with me because I’m avoiding the young men she’s parading around Hembry.”

“Whatever happened to the future Duke of Norley? He seemed rather intent at your ball.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have the need to turn him down.”

Edward stopped walking. “He proposed?”

“He will. At least that’s what my grandmother thinks. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to say no. I can’t see myself as the future Duchess of Norley. My Uncle Richard warned me to stay away from Lord Darges.”

“What did your uncle say?”

“That Lord Darges would never make any woman happy.”

“Interesting.” Edward looked like his grandfather, his hands clasped behind his back, hunched forward as though searching for something. “I wonder how your uncle knew that.”

“They had become friends, my uncle and Lord Darges. I think my Uncle Richard knew that in my heart of hearts, as much as I’ve come to appreciate Hembry and the people in it, it isn’t the life I want.”

Edward gazed into Daphne’s eyes. Her knees felt weak with the closeness of him.

“What kind of life do you want, Lady Daphne?”

“I want a warm life, a comfortable life surrounded by my friends and family. I want to love my husband with all my heart, and I want him to love me as much in return.”

Edward said nothing. He offered his arm, and they returned to the castle in a troubled bubble of silence.