Three mothers and two military officers kept an eye on the noisy chaos. Isabella was watching from the gallery above, looking as if she wished she wasn’t too old to join in, especially given the involvement of the officers.
Kitty and Braydon had delayed their departure from Town to take the news to Edgware, and then set in train the legal processes to do with Johnie’s claim to the title. They’d ceased using the title and sent notices to the papers to that effect, and then worked hard to convince the world that they were at peace with the situation. Sir Stephen Ball had called to learn more details, promising to help in any legal matters, and to write to friends around the country about the matter.
Dorothy’s first reaction had been dismay and, Kitty suspected, fear, but her son’s situation ruled. He was a viscount and must have his due. Wisely, she made no attempt to have either Johnie or herself referred to by a title until all was formally settled, but she did agree to move to Beauchamp Abbey. The children were less positive, for the prospect of wealth and a title meant nothing to them, whereas leaving their friends and familiar area did.
Again wisely, Dorothy invited her friend Mary Pickering to come with them, along with Harry and Bella, her children and the best friends of Johnie and Alice. Then it all became a huge adventure, especially when Braydon mentioned the probability of ponies. Mary was also a widow, but less well provided for than Dorothy. She was now Dorothy’s official companion and treated like one of the family. She was blossoming day by day.
Kitty had been impressed by the ease with which Braydon had arranged the transportation of two families and much of their worldly goods to Gloucestershire, undaunted by a blast of wintry weather that had put inches of snow on the ground.
At first the Abbey had daunted the new residents, and the Abbey servants had been thrown into confusion. They’d wanted to call Braydon “my lord,” and if not he, who? Braydon had made the situation as clear as it could be, and Kitty had worked with Dorothy to hand over the management of the house.
Braydon and Kitty had taken on the task of informing the dowager of the situation.
“My son married without a word to me? Nonsense.”
“I have the documents with me,” Braydon said, “if you care to see them.”
“I do not. I don’t believe a word of it. It’s part of your plot to evict me from my home.”
“You have two new grandchildren,” Kitty said. “One a son.”
“You are trying to foist guttersnipes on me for your amusement.”
Kitty recognized that she’d become so accustomed to being aggrieved and difficult that she was chained by it. She left to get Dorothy and the children.
As soon as the dowager saw Johnie, she’d melted, tears welling in her eyes. “My boy. It’s as if my boy is returned to me! Come to me!”
Not surprising if the child held back from the mound of black on the thronelike chair, but Dorothy gently steered him forward. “Make your bow to your grandmother, dear.”
At which, miraculously, he’d smiled. “Grandmother?” He’d bowed and said, “I’ve always wanted a grandparent.”
And the dowager had smiled. If her eyes hadn’t been so pouched, a twinkle might have shown. She didn’t insist on an embrace, but said, “I will try to be the best grandmother possible, dearest boy.”
The sweet mood hadn’t held, and once the children and their mother had left, the dowager had settled, perhaps with relief, into bitter complaint about her son hiding his marriage and her grandson, the hope of her line, from her. They’d decided not to tell her he hadn’t known he was free. The fewer who knew about that, the better.
Over the next weeks she had mellowed, and she’d certainly become careful not to create too much trouble. She’d been indulgent, perhaps overindulgent, to Johnie, but he—perhaps instructed by his mother—had refused any treat that didn’t include the other children.
As Kitty had said to Ruth on her first visit to the parsonage, “I thought the old beldame would turn vicious at that, but she’s not stupid, and she has Dorothy’s measure.There’ll be no visits from the children except on Dorothy’s terms, and if the dowager’s not careful, she’ll end up in the Dower House or worse.”
“She deserves to be evicted. Are you sure it’s wise to allow her to continue at the Abbey?”
“Where’s the quality of mercy and all that?” Kitty asked. “She is thawing, especially as Dorothy has agreed that they’ll be Godyson-Braydons.”
“That odd obsession.”
“Bloodlines mean a great deal to some people. It helps that the dowager was instantly besotted with Johnie. He does quite resemble her son, but he has the bright spark the fifth viscount always lacked.”
“She was disappointed in him?” Ruth said. “Poor man.”
“Mothers and sons,” Kitty said, tempted to tell Ruth about the queen, but she overcame that. “As Dorothy says, the addition of a name is a small adjustment in order to win peace. There couldn’t be a better woman for this situation, Ruth. She’s so steady and calm. Exactly, in fact, the sort of woman Braydon wanted for a wife.”
Ruth looked alarmed for a moment, but then she smiled. “No longer, I assume.”
“No longer. We get along very well.”
“More than well, I suspect.”
Kitty just smiled. For some reason, confessing to a madness of love seemed impossible, but she was sure Ruth understood.
