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  For the rest, tenants’ cottages had been allowed to fall into even greater disrepair than the main house, some fields had remained uncultivated for more than three years and the entire estate was teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. Inevitably, the land was entailed and nothing in the house – neither paintings nor furniture – was in remotely marketable condition. So with the need for money being critical, Julian had sold the contents of the stables; a fine black gelding, a pair of chestnuts and a smart carriage.

  This had helped but didn’t solve the problem. Julian had been on the point of turning his back on the whole sorry mess and taking sufficient money to get him back to Vienna when he’d found out about the children. Three of them; two boys and a girl, ranging in age from six to twelve – and all the result of the previous earl’s indiscriminate couplings with tavern-wenches and village girls. And though Julian could have walked away from the title and the estate in a heartbeat, he found he couldn’t turn his back on the children.

  No-one seemed to know where their mothers were and they had been fostered by a village woman until, no longer being paid for their keep, she’d turned them out of doors. Since then, they had apparently been sleeping in one of Chalfont’s empty barns and foraging for food as best they could – mostly, if the villagers were to be believed, by stealing it. When Julian had first come across them, gaunt, filthy and ragged, the two boys had faced him with mistrustful, challenging stares while their small sister peeped out from behind them. Then all three had fled.

  It had taken days to find them again and when he’d done so and tried telling them they could live in the house, they hadn’t believed him. He eventually persuaded them by having Mistress Phelps leave the kitchen door open and food waiting just inside it. Now they inhabited the suite of rooms that had once been the nursery and schoolroom and ignored Julian more or less completely. This, since children were an alien species, suited him perfectly well … but left him aware that he probably ought to be doing more if only he’d known how. And that was why he had listened when Paul and Janet Featherstone had said he must employ a female to do what he could not.

  He supposed he ought to tell the children about that. He thought the little girl might like having a lady looking after them. But all the boys would see was that their days of doing pretty much as they pleased were numbered.

  * * *

  From the upper floor windows, three young faces watched him walking towards the house. Tom, the eldest of them, said, ‘Why is he coming from the village not the farm?'

  Rob merely shrugged. Six-year-old Ellie said, ‘He looks different. Happy.’

  ‘Happy?’ Rob nudged her teasingly. ‘How do you work that out?’

  ‘Don’t know. He just does.’ She stood on tiptoe on the stool that enabled her to see over the high windowsill. ‘I think he’s whistling.’

  ‘Whistling?’ scoffed Tom. ‘Him? Nah.’

  Rob lifted the catch and opened the window a few inches. They all listened.

  ‘See?’ said Ellie, smugly. ‘He is whistling. Told you.’

  Tom grunted. ‘He usually looks like he’s lost a shilling and found sixpence.’

  ‘I think he’s lonely,’ offered Ellie. ‘We’ve got each other. He’s got nobody.’

  His lordship having disappeared inside the house, the three of them abandoned the look-out post and wandered back to sit on the hearth-rug.

  ‘He’s friends with the doctor,’ said Rob. ‘But something’s cheered him up, so p’raps this’d be a good time to talk to him.’

  ‘About what?’ asked Tom. ‘And he don’t want to talk to us. Makes that clear enough.’

  Rob shook his head. ‘Maybe he thinks we don’t want to talk to him.’

  ‘And we don’t.’

  ‘You mean you don’t. I wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘Nor me,’ said Ellie. ‘It’s better here. There’s something to eat every day and proper beds and nobody chasing us off and --’

  ‘All right – so it’s better. But why is he doing it? Why is he letting us live here when he don’t have to? He’s not kin … he ain’t got money. He could chuck us out just like that!’

  ‘He wouldn’t,’ said Ellie uncertainly.

  ‘But he could,’ snapped Tom. ‘And then where would we be? Back where we was before – that’s where! And that’s why we can’t trust him or rely on always living here. There’s no saying how long it’ll last.’

  ‘Maybe there would be if we got to know him a bit,’ Rob suggested. ‘It’s right what you said, Tom. He didn’t have to take us in – but he did, didn’t he? And the only thing he said we gotta do is go to lessons at the parsonage which ain’t so bad.’

  ‘And he don’t shout at us,’ said Ellie. ‘Not ever.’

  ‘What’s wrong with the pair of you?’ demanded Tom angrily. ‘So he’s put a roof over our heads and he don’t shout. So what? It don’t mean it’ll always be that way. And what does he do at night in that room downstairs? It’s the only locked door in the whole house. He don’t even lock his bedchamber … I know ’cos I went through it. But that room is locked whether he’s in it or not. Why? What’s he up to in there? He could be doing anything.’

  ‘Cutting up dead animals or boiling down children to make glue.’ A voice from behind the partly-open door caused the three of them to nearly jump out of their skins and stare, half-petrified, as the earl strolled in and looked down on them.

  Tom turned scarlet and said nothing. Ellie looked as if she was about to burst into tears. And Rob stood up, saying shakily, ‘G-Glue?’

  Julian nodded. He felt awkward and stupid but he knew better than to walk away from what he’d overheard. ‘Lucky I don’t need any, isn’t it?’

  Deciding that he didn’t look angry, Rob said hopefully, ‘You was joking, right?’

  ‘Right,’ agreed Julian. ‘But if what I’m doing in the library is bothering you, I had better put your minds at rest. Come along.’

  ‘I don’t want to,’ quavered Ellie. ‘Not if there’s dead animals.’

  ‘There aren’t. Not one.’ Julian held out his hand to her. ‘Come and see.’

  ‘You promise?’

  ‘I promise. No dead animals and no glue-pots. Nothing at all scary.’

  ‘All right.’ Ellie scrambled up, put her small hand in his and said shyly, ‘I don’t care what you was doing. It was Tom, mostly.’

  ‘Shut up,’ hissed Tom, getting to his feet. ‘No tale-telling. We stick together.’

  ‘And so you should,’ agreed Julian mildly, leading them from the room and down the stairs. ‘I don’t blame you for wondering, Tom. I don’t even mind you going through my things – though I’d rather you didn’t.’ Having reduced all three children to silence, he continued to the library door and inserted the key in the lock. ‘What’s in here, however, is a different matter and means a great deal to me … though I think you’ll find it disappointing.’

  And he opened the door. The children stared. Sofas, chairs and tables had all been pushed against the walls, leaving just one item standing in solitary splendour in the centre of the room amidst a litter of strange tools, pieces of wood and lengths of wire.

  ‘What is it?’ breathed Ellie, still clinging to his hand.

  It occurred to Julian that it had been idiotic to expect them to recognise something they could never have seen before. He said, ‘It’s a musical instrument – a bit like the organ in the church. It’s called a harpsichord.’

  There was a long silence and then Rob said, ‘Can you play it?’

  ‘Yes – though not at present because it’s broken. I’m trying to mend it … and the room is kept locked because I don’t want anyone else to touch it.’

  Half under his breath and half not, Tom uttered the worst curse he knew and walked out. Ellie’s fingers tightened on Julian’s hand and Rob said, ‘He don’t mean it, sir. He --’

  ‘I know. It’s all right.’ Julian summoned a smile. ‘Now … any other questions?’

  ‘Yes.’ It was Elli
e who spoke. ‘When it’s all mended, will you show us how it works?’

  ~ * * ~ * * ~

  CHAPTER THREE

  The response to Elizabeth’s letter arrived four days after she had sent it and answered all the questions she had asked. Since she had no reason to be suspicious, she didn’t notice the careful wording. She merely gained her parents’ agreement that it all sounded very suitable, wrote a brief reply and then sent a note to her cousin. Two hours later, having been given no chance to say more than that she would be taking up the position in three weeks’ time, she found herself listening to Arabella’s notion of a brilliant idea.

  ‘Stop!’ said Elizabeth, pressing her hands against her face. ‘Just stop for a moment. Are you seriously suggesting that we change places and impersonate each other?’

  ‘Just the changing places part. I don’t think impersonation need come into it.’

  ‘How can it not? Heavens, Belle – are you completely mad? It is the most ridiculous idea I ever heard. It will never work.’

  ‘Yes it will. And it isn’t nearly as difficult as it sounds. Think about it.’

  ‘I don’t need to think about it. It’s you who needs to do that. How you can possibly suppose we’d get away with it? We’d be found out. You know we would.’

  ‘Eventually,’ grinned Arabella. ‘We’d be found out eventually. But by then, you would have had a few weeks in London and I’d have had some time away from everybody who knows about David and the rest of it – and a bit of an adventure as well. It’s perfect.’

  Elizabeth shut her eyes for a moment and then, opening them again, said, ‘Don’t think for one moment that I’m agreeing to this. But if you want to explain exactly how this marvellous scheme of yours is supposed to work, I’ll listen.’

  ‘Well, obviously I haven’t got all the details worked out yet --’

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘-- but we’ve got three weeks in which to plan it properly. Basically, however, it’s quite simple. We begin our journeys together; me, to London and you, to – to wherever it is. Don’t interrupt – we can find a map later. At the last stopping point before we go our separate ways, we change places. You travel on to London and I go to the place you were going that I can’t remember the name of,’ said Arabella triumphantly. ‘Easy!’

  ‘Easy,’ echoed Elizabeth in hollow accents. ‘And what happens when we get there – or haven’t you considered that yet?’

  ‘Nothing happens. That’s the beauty of it. Neither the duke and duchess nor your gentleman-employer have ever seen either of us so they won’t know the difference, will they?’

  ‘I suppose not. But --’

  ‘They’d have no reason to suspect we’re not who we say we are. And since we’re almost exactly the same size, clothes won’t be a problem --’

  ‘I suppose your maid won’t be a problem either,’ cut in Elizabeth dryly. ‘Or did you imagine that Aunt Louisa would permit you to travel without her?’

  ‘Annie will do as I say … and if the worst comes to the worst, I’ll bribe her.’

  ‘Brilliant. And when she makes a mistake? When she calls me Miss Lizzie in front of one of the duke’s servants or, worse still, the duchess? What then?’

  ‘We’ll have to rehearse her so she doesn’t.’ Flushed with enthusiasm and excitement, Arabella looked her cousin in the eye and said, ‘We can do this. I know we can. And it isn’t as though we’d be doing anything so very terrible. Uncle Josiah wouldn’t have agreed to you accepting this position if he wasn’t convinced of its respectability so I’ll be perfectly safe. As for London … the duchess invited both of us, so you’re as entitled to go as me.’

  It occurred to Elizabeth that it had been a long time since she’d seen her cousin so full of bubbling animation; not, in fact, since before David had set sail for the colonies. But though it seemed a pity to dampen her spirits, Arabella really must be made to think. So she said, ‘None of this alters the fact that what you’re suggesting means deceiving both of our families – not to mention the duke and duchess and goodness knows how many others along the way. You may be comfortable with that but I’m not.’

  ‘Well, perhaps I’m not entirely comfortable with it … but there’s no actual harm in it. If Uncle wasn’t so stubborn, there’d be no need for any of this because we’d be going to London together. I wouldn’t mind that so much. But as things are, I’d really rather not go at all just at present and I’m certainly not ready to go husband-hunting – which is what the duchess will expect. She’s probably already lining up potential suitors.’

  ‘How would my being there change that?’

  Arabella gave a laughing shrug. ‘By dividing her attention. You’re prettier than me – no, don’t argue. My mouth is too wide, my chin is too pointed and my nose is what polite people call retroussé. As for my hair … the less said, the better. The duchess would see all that right away. Then she’d notice that you are the graceful, ladylike, impeccably mannered one and I’m the hoyden … so she’d concentrate her efforts on you instead of me.’

  ‘And there I was thinking it was my company you wanted,’ sighed Elizabeth. ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Of course it would be that, too. But it’s not going to happen, is it? And since only one of us can go, I think it ought to be you rather than me.’

  ‘I see.’ There was a very long, thoughtful pause; and then, ‘Why are you so desperate to avoid London, Belle? Is there something you’re not saying?’

  ‘No! And I’m not desperate. I just don’t want to do it yet.’ Aware of a need to hide her expression before something in it gave her away, Arabella rose and walked to the window, saying, ‘I’m not ready, Lizzie. Next year, perhaps – but not now.’

  ‘If we do what you suggest, the duchess won’t be inviting you next year.’

  ‘Then I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.’ Hauling in a deep breath, Arabella turned back to face her cousin. ‘Can you stop raising objections long enough to admit that you’re tempted? That, unlike me, you’d love a taste of society and all that goes with it.’

  ‘Of course I’m tempted. Aside from you, I can’t think of any girl who wouldn’t be. But none of this is as straightforward as you’re making it sound.’

  ‘I know that. But --’

  ‘I’m not sure you do. For example, let us consider what you’ll be doing while I’m going to balls and parties and driving in the park. You may think you want to get away from everyone but you can’t possibly want to spend weeks acting the part of a housekeeper and managing somebody’s children. Could you even do it?’

  ‘Of course. How difficult can it be? I know about household management – not as much as you do perhaps, but enough. And a housekeeper doesn’t dust and sweep and cook herself, does she? She oversees the other servants. As for children … ha!’ She gave a snap of her fingers. ‘I have three brothers, remember.’

  ‘All of them older than you.’

  ‘That’s immaterial,’ retorted Arabella breezily. ‘Leo and Adam aren’t so much older than me that I can’t remember all the things they got up to when they were home for the holidays from Eton. Young children ought to be easy compared to them. How many did you say there were?’

  There was a long, resigned silence. Finally, Elizabeth said, ‘I didn’t – because you didn’t give me the chance. But there are two boys and a girl, aged twelve, nine and six respectively.’

  ‘Well, that doesn’t sound too bad. What about their father?’

  ‘Oh – you’ll like that bit. Their father is an earl. Lord Chalfont of Chalfont Hall, if you please.’ And with a swift, mischievous smile, ‘He might be young and gorgeous … but from the little we know so far, I wouldn’t care to rely on it. He’s probably some middle-aged distant relation who never expected to inherit and is therefore now over-doing his attempts to live up to the title.’

  ‘Who are you telling, Lizzie? Me or yourself?’ retorted Arabella. And then, ‘You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?
Despite everything you’ve said, you are actually considering falling in with my utterly splendid plan.’

  * * *

  Julian learned that Mistress Marsden had accepted the position within his household over supper with Paul and Janet Featherstone. He liked Janet. He’d never had a sister but somehow she felt like one. Consequently, she was one of only three women with whom he was comfortable – the other two being the Misses Caldercott. Younger ladies, with their lingering, speculative glances, scared him to death.

  Taking Mistress Marsden’s letter from Julian, Paul said, ‘I’ll write back arranging to collect her from the Woolpack in Newark – unless you’d rather go yourself?’

  ‘No! That is … not really.’ He thought for a minute and then said, ‘Now it’s definite, I suppose I should tell the children.’

  ‘That should be interesting. How do you think they will take it?’

  ‘Tom will probably swear and walk off. Rob and Ellie … I don’t know.’ Setting down his knife, he gave a brief account of his visit to the nursery floor and its aftermath, adding, ‘I haven’t laid eyes on Tom since then. But Rob sometimes comes to the fields and waves to me from the fence. And Ellie … Ellie waits for me on the drive and walks back chattering about her lessons.’ He stopped and took a gulp of wine. ‘She holds my hand.’

  There was a brief silence as Paul and his wife exchanged glances.

  ‘Well, that’s a start,’ said Janet, putting a bowl of potatoes at his elbow. ‘At least you know their names now. But, aside from explaining matters to the children, there are a few other things you should do prior to the advent of Mistress Marsden.’