Page 24 of Lady, Behave
Addy nodded. She would work to make it so, whatever the cost.
*
“My lord?” Theestate agent hurried toward Gyles and his two friends, who stood grinning at each other like fools in the front parlor.
After moving out of the Pavilion at dawn this morning, Gyles had collected his friends Viscount Grey and Captain Fitzroy at Grey’s house on the Steine, then roused the rental agent from his office on the Marine Parade at nine o’clock this morning. The man had shown him two other houses today, but this one was no dreary Dutch clinker. With a white stucco exterior complemented by two bays of tall Venetian windows, the manse had precisely the flair of the architect Robert Adams.
The expansive first floor sported two salons—one for receiving, one for family—a dining room with table and chairs to seat twelve, ample kitchen below with alcoves for staff to sleep nearby, servants’ dining room, larders, plate room, a wine cellar, kitchen garden, and privy. Three family bedrooms lay above with a master suite that pleased a man of Gyles’s stature and marital ambitions. On the topmost floor, five servants’ rooms, three for one person each, two for two. Enough to run a small household for an indefinite period of time. Plus, a skeleton staff of butler and footman were always on duty at payment by the owner, the Earl of Penderyn. That the house also came with fashionable furniture, linens, silver, and china solved Gyles need for quick occupancy.
What sold it for him, more so, was the tiny Italianate garden to the rear, where a profusion of flowering bushes and plants gave a fragrance to the sea breeze. Addy would adore the place.
“Lord Heath? You approve, sir?”
“I do. I’ll take it for the Season until at least October, perhaps longer. I will notify you. I have no valet here. He remained at my house in London. I’ll bring him later. But I’d appreciate it if you provided Penderyn’s regular staff for me. If they are not at call, then hire from the local servants’ registry.”
“I can, sir.”
“Excellent. A fine cook, too, mind you.” Addy enjoyed a fine meal.
“Absolutely.”
Gyles nodded, pleased with his success. “To start as soon as possible. When might that be?”
“Three to four days, sir.” The agent fairly floated in the air with Gyles’s consent.
Gyles swung toward two gentlemen who stood, surveying the blue and gold salon with as much glee as if they were renting it for themselves. “What do you think, my friends?”
Hadley Sherborne, Viscount Grey, uncrossed his arms and chuckled. “Fast work.”
“Fine work,” said Captain Fitzroy, who, like Grey, had attended Eton with Gyles long ago. “You’ll impress the lady with your choices.”
“Necessary.” He concluded, so pleased with himself.
*
The very ideaof attending church that Sunday morning stole Addy’s appetite. She’d spent the night punching her pillows, gutted by Gyles’s loss and the news that she and her sisters were about to pay a horrid price for the notoriety of their grandfather’s pastime. She’d find no comfort in hearing any pious prelate preach about forgiveness. All that pontificating only made her cry. And she hated to cry.
So it was that all the others went out, leaving her to sit alone in the little yellow dining room. There, as she stewed about Gyles’s absence and his cockish reputation, she bemoaned the pile of art their Grandpapa had stashed in his long false gallery. All that to say nothing about her fear that rumors of Cass’s liaison with that colonel might explode.
Richards, their jolly butler, puttered around her. “Might I remove the servers from the sideboard, Miss?”
“Indeed, you may, Richards. I’ll have just my tea.”
He cocked a bushy eyebrow. “Cook worries that you did not partake of her biscuits and eggs this morning, Miss Adelaide. She asks if she can tempt you with a bit, say, of yesterday’s strawberry pie?” He gazed at her with a toothy grin. “You have such a robust appetite.”
She brightened at that offer. Pie of any type always filled her head with pleasures of summer. “I do, that’s true. Thank her, Richards. I’ll enjoy a small piece.”
“Excellent!” He rushed off.
She drummed her fingers on the tablecloth. She probably should have gone to church. The quiet house encouraged brooding—and she rejected that. She liked a spirited household, full of her sisters, her grandfather, and his old butler who reminded her of Richards. She also missed the dogs of the family. Big hairy bouncing Irish hounds with long snouts, slobbering into her hands and giving as good as they got in affection.
Richards arrived with her pie, and she made quick work of it.
Licking her lips, she inhaled, then stood and resolved to do what must be done.
Build a life for herself that had nothing to do with Grandpapa or his past. If Gyles no longer found her suitable because of her family, she would not accept any other man. Her heart ached at that, but she would not attempt to make him love her if her bloodline was more important to him than her character.
She had an interest in herbs and such, and as long as she learned enough not to kill anyone, she’d save a few people from illness. No time like the present to pursue her goal.
