Summer Folly Page 6

  Giles stopped beside her and touched his finger between her eyes, making her draw back in surprise. “What?” she said.

  “You’re frowning.” He smiled a bit as he took her arm. “Is there something wrong?”

  “No. Oh, no. I suppose I am a trifle fatigued after the journey.”

  “You? Are you turning into a proper lady then, Anne?”

  She laughed. “Of course not. But there is something, Giles, we haven’t discussed,” she said, as he escorted her up the stairs and into the house. “Oh. Isn’t this lovely.”

  Giles glanced perfunctorily at the wide hall, tiled in black and white marble. A gracefully-curved staircase floated upwards, while a small, but exquisite, crystal chandelier sparkled in the sunlight, scattering rainbows on the cream plaster walls and the molded ceiling. “Yes. What is troubling you?”

  “What? Oh. Have you had a chance to speak with Obadiah?”

  “With all that’s been happening? Hardly. Thank you.” The last to Benson, who took Giles’s hat. “My life has been rather topsy-turvy recently.”

  Anne gathered her skirts as she prepared to ascend to the next floor, and the drawing room. “For which you blame me, I gather.”

  “You and Prinny.”

  That surprised a laugh from her, and she turned on the stairs to answer. Her eyes caught his, and the words died, unsaid. Giles returned her gaze, his lips slightly parted. Something crackled between them, something almost tangible, and then Benson stepped forward.

  “Ahem. Your Grace,” he said, breaking the spell. Anne drew in what felt like her first full breath in hours, so stunned was she by what had happened. But what had happened? Preoccupied, frowning a bit, she turned and made her way upstairs, hardly aware of Giles or Benson. A moment of shared humor, and a glance. Nothing more. That, and an attraction so potent she could still feel it as a palpable thing, making her skin tingle with awareness. Never before had she felt like this. Never.

  “Your Grace,” Benson said again, and this time, Giles turned. Good God, what had just happened? Anne was lovely, surely, and he was no more immune than any other man to a beautiful woman, but this was something beyond his experience. an attraction such as he had never felt. His nerve endings still sizzled with the fire of it, so that nothing else mattered. Never before had he felt like this. Never.

  Without a word to Benson, Giles turned on his heel and stalked off to the book-room, which he had already decided would be his study. No. He wasn’t going to let it happen again. He had been hurt once, and he had learned his lesson. This time in Brighton was an interlude, a break from the realities of life. When summer was over and James’s future had been settled, Anne would return to Jamaica. That was beyond doubt. In the meantime, Giles had no intention of letting himself fall into a romance with her. It would only be a summer folly.

  By evening it had begun to rain, exacerbating nerves already strained by two long days of traveling. Anne, sitting in the drawing room after dinner, looked at the morose faces of her companions and rose. She had had quite enough of the Tremonts for one day. Doubtless things would look better in the morning.

  Carrying her candle, she went upstairs. Because this house was much smaller than Tremont Castle, there was no nursery suite. At Anne’s insistence Jamie had been placed in the room next to hers, something which Julia no doubt disapproved, but which Anne found comforting. She had hated having Jamie so far away from her at Tremont.

  Quietly she eased open the door of Jamie’s room and tiptoed in, instinctively listening for the sound of his breathing. She needn’t have been so quiet; he was sitting up in bed, his hair tousled and his eyes wide and solemn. Anne’s heart sank. She didn’t have the energy to deal with a fractious child tonight.

  “Can’t you sleep, Jamie?” she whispered, crossing the room to him.

  “There’s a monster under my bed, Mommy.”

  “Oh, there is, is there?” Anne set down her candle and knelt down, peering under the bed. “All I see are dust kittens. The maids aren’t very thorough.” She rose, dusting her hands together. “Do you remember the charm Obadiah taught you? ‘Monster, monster, go away, I’ll play with you another day?’”

  “I don’t think it works on English monsters, Mommy. When I said it, he laughed.”

  Anne paused in the act of tucking him into bed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a monster laughing before.”

  “He did, Mommy. Then he sang, and he left.”

  A chill briefly skittered down Anne’s spine. Jamie’s monster was acting out of character but, with all the changes in Jamie’s life lately, perhaps that wasn’t surprising. “Try to go to sleep, lovey,” she said, stroking his curls. “If he comes back, I’m right next door. All you have to do is call.”

  Jamie yawned. “And you’ll come?”

  “I’ll come. Word of a Templeton.” She smiled down at him as his eyelids drooped closed. Thank heavens, he was going to sleep at last. She’d feared that the long day might have over-tired him, making him restless, but the resilience of youth had won out. Kissing him lightly on the forehead, she rose. After what had happened today between her and Giles, likely she’d be the one tossing and turning all night.

  By morning the storm had blown itself out, and the family awoke to a glorious summer day. Anne sang as she dressed, irrationally happy. That there was an attraction between her and Giles was probably only to be expected; likely it would always be there. Acting on it was another matter altogether. This morning there seemed no reason why she couldn’t enjoy the attentions of a handsome man, especially since there would never be more between them. When summer ended, she and Jamie would go home.

  “This is the most amazing house,” she said, sitting down to breakfast with the others. “Jamie was up early and he and I went exploring. Did you know it has a heating system, with a furnace in the cellar? That’s why there are grates in the floor.”

  Giles, crumbling a piece of toast, smiled. “Yes, I did, and I’m glad it’s summer so we don’t have to use it. I don’t trust it.”

  “You don’t trust anything new.” For answer Giles only smiled, and she went on. “The kitchen is marvelous, with a new stove, and there’s even running water.”

  “Hmph.” Julia set down her teacup. “Why should we care about such things? Let the servants deal with them.”

  “Well, they make our lives more pleasant, too. And have you noticed the furniture? The piano in the music room is inlay work, and the tables in the drawing room are solid mahogany. It’s all lovely.”

  “Must you burble on so early in the morning?” Julia grumbled.

  “My apologies, ma’am,” Anne said, her voice suspiciously meek. Even for her, the duchess was grumpy today. “I was wondering, though, why we were able to lease such a marvelous house so late in the year. I would think someone else would have had it.”

  “Someone did.” Giles touched his lips with a napkin. “The family that had it had to leave because of illness, and so it became available at just the right time.”

  Anne cast an approving eye around the breakfast room, flooded with sun. “We were lucky.”

  “Indeed we were.”

  “Your Grace.” Benson appeared in the doorway. “There are visitors, sir.”

  “So early in the morning? Who the devil is it, Benson?”

  “Lord and Lady Whitehead, sir, and Miss Whitehead.”

  “Felicity!” Beth exclaimed. “Oh, ‘twill be so nice to see her again!”

  Giles nodded. “Show them into the drawing room, Benson.”

  “I already have, Your Grace,” Benson said, and, bowing, left the room.

  “Benson is getting pert,” Anne murmured.

  “You’ll like the Whiteheads,” Giles said, ignoring Anne’s levity as he rose. “Whitehead is rather dull, but Felicity makes up for it.”

  “And it’s nice to know someone here,” Beth chatted, more animated than Anne had ever seen her, as they left the breakfast room. “Oh, I’m so glad we came.”

 
; Anne smiled, politely. She vaguely remembered Lord Whitehead, though she hadn’t the slightest idea who his wife could be. For the first time, she was about to meet someone who might remember her from the past. Was she also about to be snubbed?

  “Felicity. This is a surprise,” Giles said, smiling, as they walked into the drawing room. “Isn’t this early in the morning for you?”

  “Giles, my dear boy.” Felicity held out her hand and raised her cheek for his kiss. “But this is the fashionable time in Brighton, or did you not know? At least you decided to come.” She gave Anne a quick smile, and Anne’s fears melted, at least for the moment.

  “It was in the nature of a royal command.” Giles sat across from her, smiling, and looked at the girl sitting next to her on the sofa. “Never tell me this is little Susan.”

  “She made her come-out this past spring, Giles. As you would know if you’d come to any of my parties. She took quite well.” Susan, conventionally pretty and as sweet and placid as her mother, preened at this. “We’ve had several offers for her, but Whitehead declined them. None were to your liking, were they, puss?” She smiled at her daughter. “We’ll not force her to marry someone uncongenial.”

  “You’d want to arrange a suitable match, of course,” Julia said. “It is exactly what I would do for my children.”

  “Are you here for the summer, Felicity?” Giles asked.

  “Yes, we’ve taken a house on the Marine Parade. I must say, I was surprised when I heard you’d leased this one.”

  “We were glad it came available when it did. Felicity, Whitehead, I trust you remember Mrs. Templeton.”

  Felicity smiled warmly at Anne. “Of course. You are Viscount Pendleton’s daughter, are you not? What an exciting life you’ve led, traveling so far away. I don’t know if I could bear to leave home.”

  “It is a pleasure to see you again, ma’am.” Anne smiled. She did remember Lady Whitehead, who was older than she and had belonged to a different set when Anne had made her come-out. A set, Anne thought ruefully, that she had disdained as being hopelessly slow and dull. It was disconcerting now to meet the other woman’s kind smile and unexpectedly shrewd eyes.

  “I imagine you miss your home,” Felicity went on, causing Anne to look at her in some surprise. “Does society seem strange to you? I know it did to me when I returned to London. I stayed away for a few years, you know, to raise my children.”

  “No, did you?” A slow smile spread across Anne’s face. Try though she might to find other motives, she could see only friendliness in the other woman’s words. “I haven’t gone out in society yet, but I do remember what it is like.”

  “I daresay you do. Of course, there is all that business that happened between you and Giles, and you do know how people adore a scandal. But I am persuaded that once you get past that, you will be all right.”

  For a moment, there was blank silence. “Felicity believes in plain speaking,” Giles said after a moment, making Anne smile at the understatement.

  “Why, yes, I do believe it is the only way to go on. Now do you not worry about gossip.” Felicity reached over and laid her hand on Anne’s. “There’ll be something else soon enough for the scandal mongers to talk about. Prinny himself causes enough talk for everybody. When you see the Pavilion—Giles, you’ve been there, haven’t you?”

  Giles, one arm propped up on the mantle, smiled. “I’ve never had that honor, Felicity.”

  “Said so nicely in that ironic voice. Anyone less like Prinny I cannot imagine.”

  “That is what I said, too,” Anne said. “I’ve a hard time imagining them together. Is the Pavilion really so bad?”

  “Oh, no, but it is different. Quite exotic, and of course so warm. Prinny keeps the fires going all the time. I fear he does feel the cold, poor man, and Brighton’s air is so bracing. But people like him here, which is more than you can say for Londoners. Of course Mrs. Fitzherbert is no longer here.”

  “I’d heard she was out of favor,” Anne said, striving for a detachment she did not really feel. The Prince of Wales’s marriage to Mrs. Fitzherbert had long been a topic of discussion and argument; he had married her when he was young, in a ceremony sanctioned by the Catholic Church, but not by the king or government. His second, legal marriage to Caroline of Brunswick had stirred a great deal of sympathy for Mrs. Fitzherbert. “Is she still received?”

  “My dear, of course. She decided to break with him, you know, and not the other way around, and she’s left Brighton, I hope not for long. She is well-liked here. They call her the Queen of Brighton. That is why I think this was a wise choice for you to make your return into society.”

  Anne’s smile was wry. “It wasn’t exactly choice, ma’am.”

  “Oh, I know. I’ve heard about Giles’s service to Prinny.” The look she sent him was decidedly impish and made her look like a young girl. “Currying favor, Giles?”

  “No such thing,” he protested.

  “The Templetons have always served their country,” Julia said, and for a moment there was silence.

  “Of course, Your Grace,” Felicity said, finally, her tone sober, but the look she sent Anne and Giles was brimming with mirth and complicity. Anne had to look away, lest she burst into giggles. “I do hope your rheumatism is well.”

  “Tolerable, tolerable. It was a long journey here. But I shan’t complain.”

  “No, of course not,” Anne murmured.

  “And I must admit that this house is quite tolerable. Not at all like Tremont, of course, but it’s well enough.”

  “I think it is an attractive house, and quite new, you know. That is what makes the rumors so puzzling.”

  “Excuse me?” Giles said.

  “I don’t believe them, of course, but it does make you wonder. I don’t know why the Fergusons would give up such a delightful location, with five daughters to marry off.”

  “I understand there was illness in the family.”

  “So they said, but—” Felicity looked around the room. “You really don’t know?”

  “What?”

  “Why, that the house is said to be haunted, of course.”

  Chapter Six

  Anne broke the startled silence by laughing. “Oh, surely not, ma’am! How could such an attractive house be haunted?”

  “I don’t know if I credit the rumors myself,” Felicity confided. “But there must be some reason why the Fergusons left so quickly. Yes, I know they claimed illness, but I have it on the very best authority that the only thing wrong with Mrs. Ferguson is that her daughters are irredeemably plain.”

  Giles and Anne exchanged a quick glance of shared amusement. “I know you enjoy a good story, Felicity, but this is a bit much, don’t you think?” Giles said.

  “‘Tis no story. Oh, I know you’re thinking me the most awful gossip, but one does hear things, you know. Not that anything very wrong has happened. Except for some strange moaning sounds that supposedly sound like singing.”

  A chill shivered down Anne’s spine. “Oh.”

  Giles looked at her. “What?”

  “Nothing. Except Jamie—my son—is at the age where he imagines there are monsters under his bed, and last night he said his monster sang.”

  There was a brief silence. “Nonsense,” Julia proclaimed. “You cosset the boy too much. It does not do to cater to such fancies.”

  Giles smiled. “Then what about Charlie, Mother?”

  “Oh, nonsense.”

  “Who is Charlie?” Anne asked, intrigued both by Giles’s smile and Julia’s rare discomfiture.

  “Charlie was a friend I pretended I had when I was Jamie’s age,” Giles said. “We’d all have tea in the nursery, wouldn’t we, Mother?”

  “Oh, and there was Nancy,” Beth chimed in. “I haven’t thought of her for years. Remember, Mama, you made her a rag doll?”

  “I never did such a thing,” Julia fumed. “Felicity, you were never a light-minded miss. I am shocked to hear you spreading such tales.”

>   “My apologies, ma’am.” Felicity’s head was lowered, but her eyes gleamed. “I think, though, that it does you great credit as a mother.”

  “Jamie’s imaginary playmate stayed in Jamaica,” Anne said, moved by some unfathomable impulse to draw attention away from Julia. Poor woman, she looked so uncomfortable that Anne actually felt pity for her. “That still surprises me.”

  “But he said the monster sang?” Felicity said.

  “I wouldn’t refine on that overmuch. Jamie has an excellent imagination.”

  “Still...”

  “The house is not haunted,” Giles said. “We were merely fortunate that it came available when it did.”

  “Of course.” Felicity rose. “We really must be going. Will you be at the ball at the Old Ship on Wednesday?”

  Giles rose, too. “I doubt it. We haven’t settled in.”

  “Oh, you should, Giles. You’ll be vastly popular. You’re a great prize, you know.”

  “I? A prize?” Giles said, startled.

  “Of course. Did you not know? Young, unmarried, titled, and rich. And no one knows anything about you, because you keep to yourself. Of course you’re a prize. I suspect you’ll be besieged by ladies when you do appear.” She twinkled at Anne. “Hold onto him, my dear.”

  Giles and Anne spoke at once. “I’m not—”

  “We’re not—”

  “We will not be going Wednesday,” Julia said firmly. “We haven’t the appropriate clothes.”

  “That’s easily remedied,” Felicity said. “Come shopping with us.”

  “Oh, yes,” Susan spoke up. “Please do come.”

  “I’d like that,” Anne said. “I need so much. If you don’t mind, Lady Whitehead, I think I will come along.”