So… was he going to do this? Was he a man or a mouse? He stepped down onto the drive, and strode forward, his boots crunching on the gravel, and took the steps two at a time.
His hand reached for the knocker, and fell back, nonplussed. It was draped in black crêpe. His arrival was inopportune if there had been a death in the house. One of the aunts, he supposed, or perhaps one of the children… Andrew’s, maybe. That would occasion a certain amount of grief, even from his unfeeling father, but clearly not a great deal, for it was a very small amount of crêpe, barely enough to silence the knocker. A girl, then. He had never cared about the girls.
While he stood, irresolute, on the step, one side of the great double doors opened and a footman in black appeared.
“This way, sir, if you please.”
An invitation to enter could not be refused, however unexpected. Simon followed him into the familiar hall, a good fire blazing in the massive hearth. His father had always kept the place warm, that at least could be said for him. He never stinted on coal or wood, or candles, either, he recalled, his eyes almost dazzled by the giant chandelier.
“You may wait in here, sir,” the footman said, holding open the door to the Ante Chamber.
That was puzzling. It was almost as if he was expected.
“I am here to see the earl,” Simon said, just in case there had been a misunderstanding.
“Yes, sir. I will notify him of your arrival.”
“But…” Simon said, but the man had gone before he could point out that he had not yet given his name.
Had the footman recognised him? No, he thought not, for he was too young to remember the gangly fifteen-year-old who had left Edlesborough so long ago. Besides, if he had known him, he would either have refused him entry altogether, or else shown him into the more commodious Blue Room. The Ante Chamber was where the lower orders, lawyers, bailiffs and messengers, were placed before being admitted to the Presence.
Still, there was a good fire burning, an array of drinks and pastries laid out, as if someone was expected, so he poured himself a glass of something to fortify his spirits while he waited.
After a few minutes, the door opened again, and an older man walked in, the well-remembered shape of the butler.
“Good morning, sir. You are here to see his lordship, I understand.”
“I am, yes, but—”
“He will be pleased to receive you shortly.”
“Will he?” Simon said, startled. “Then he has changed a great deal.”
The butler looked startled for a moment, before he permitted himself a wintry smile. “I believe he is much as he ever was, sir.”
Something caused him to look more carefully at Simon, and his expression slowly passed through bewilderment, then surprise and finally, a pleased excitement. “Master Simon? Is it you?”
“It is, Spearman. Why are you still here? Surely it is past time for that little cottage in the village, and days spent at the Plough playing cribbage.”
The smile broadened. “Soon, Master Simon, very soon now. I have just been waiting— Well, not long now. Wait a moment, sir, if you please.”
He opened the door, and gave some hurried orders to the footman manning the hall, who loped off into the interior of the house.
“Well, my goodness, sir, you got here so quickly. We never expected you so soon. We thought you were the attorney or we should never have put you in here. Heavens, but his lordship will be so pleased to see you! He has spoken of you constantly these last few days, but of course we knew it could be a while. Yet here you are! And so well grown! My goodness, sir, how you have filled out and a good head taller than when you left us, Iswear! And looking so well. Such a fine thing to have you back at Edlesborough after all these years. I am so pleased that the Good Lord spared me this long, to see you again.”
Simon made no attempt to interrupt these effusions. No doubt when he saw his father, he would find out just why he was so keen to see him.
The door burst open and a great crowd of people poured in, and on their faces, too, he saw nothing but smiles of welcome. How strange! How very unlike the Edlesborough he remembered, as a subdued place, with nary a smile to be seen, except in company.
His father was not one of those beaming at him. Three of his brothers, the wife of his eldest brother, several people he did not recognise and an older woman… Oh, he knewher.Yet there was a difference. That dreadful haunted look had gone from her eyes.
“Mama?”
“Simon! Oh, Simon!” She fell into his arms and burst into tears.
Simon laughed, and over his mother’s head, buried on his chest, he said to his eldest brother, Andrew, “This is not the reception I expected, but I am very pleased to see you all, naturally. I even recognise some of you. Lady Kendle. John. Matthew.”
“Do you not recognise me, brother?” said one of the ladies. “I am Rachel, and this is Elizabeth, and… where are you, Martha? Ah, there you are, and this scamp is Mark, and that is Ruth, who should not even be here. Have you slipped away from Miss Towers again, young lady?”
