11
James had no wish to burden his sister with the reason he'd sent for her until she was less frail. His household now had no housekeeper or butler but one wouldn't know that from the way things were running so smoothly.
'Pray excuse me, I must speak to my secretary. I'll be back a few moments.'
Somehow Sofia guessed why he was leaving the table and after nodding to the others she followed him to the door. 'I took the liberty of having rooms made ready for Lady Charlotte and her children. They are on the same corridor as us.
'Rupert and Jonathan are to share a bedchamber and a sitting room. I thought that Eloise would prefer to be in with her mother initially, so they have the larger suite of rooms adjacent to yours. I hope that's acceptable.'
'Your arrangements seem to be ideal. I take it that my sister's staff are taking care of their unpacking?'
'They are. She brought seven with her, her dresser, her cook, two maids and three male staff. That doesn't include the six coachmen. From the little that she told me these were staff that are loyal and only too eager to accompany her.'
'My life is as unruly as a weather vane at present. We seem to stumble from success to disaster and back again before I have time to adjust. This house needs three footmen and I need a cook. Also, a new butler and whatever staff you and your sisters require.'
'In the circumstances I hope you understand if I say that I don't wish to have any of the existing female staff taking care of us. I briefly explained the circumstances to Lady Charlotte, and she was happy for those she brought with her to help us as well.'
She was about to return when Billy, who'd returned to his position in the hall, coughed to draw his attention.
'Excuse me, my lord, but there's another carriage coming down the drive. It will be here in ten minutes.'
For a moment James couldn't think who it might be. Then he recalled that the seamstress was coming to start the complicated procedure of producing a completely new wardrobe for his two wards.
'Would you do something for me, Sofia? Could you discreetly ask my sister if she would like to have the seamstress spend time with her and her children?'
'I'll do that immediately. Then could you do something for me, James? Would you send someone up to tell Annabel and Mary that the seamstress is about to arrive?'
He nodded. She moved gracefully back to the table and he watched from the door as she spoke quietly to Charlotte. His sister smiled and nodded and then glanced across at him and the look she gave him told him everything he wanted to know.
She hadn't been ignoring his overtures; his letters had been kept from her. Only now her husband was dead had she received the one he'd sent by express. The situation must have been desperate indeed for her to pack up and leave within an hour or two of receiving it.
He'd absolutely no intention of speaking to the seamstress – that was something best left to the ladies. Instead, he retreated to his study and the company of his dogs who demanded nothing from him but his love, long walks and companionship.
He stood by the study window gazing out over the park. How could his life have changed so drastically in so short a time? From living in splendid isolation, free to please himself, not having any responsibilities apart from the running of his vast estates, he'd first become the slightly bemused guardian of not three but four young ladies.
Now he had three more youngsters to guide and protect until they were old enough to take care of themselves as well as his older sister. She might be his senior but it was a gentleman's job to take care of his family, and he intended to do it to the best of his ability.
He was still lost in thought when Smithers tapped on his door. 'I'm not sure if I dare to come in, my lord, I'd no idea I was opening Pandora's box when I invited the Dowager Countess to visit.'
James turned and beckoned his secretary in. 'I never thought to mention it, why would I? You've been here three years and to my certain knowledge I've not seen or spoken to the dreadful woman in that time.' He grinned which unnerved his secretary more. 'Who did you think I had living in the East Wing? My mistress?'
The poor young man turned beetroot and clutched at his stock as if it had become unaccountably tight. 'Oh no, my lord, that never crossed my mind. I knew it to be your grandmother.'
'I'm not sure if I'm offended or pleased that you didn't think I'd keep a mistress on the premises.' Smithers looked so upset James continued wanting to put him at ease. 'I don't have a mistress, it's not how I think a gentleman should behave. I do, however, now have three young ladies, my sister and her three children residing here. I'm assuming that Michael will be returning either this evening or tomorrow with the final young lady and the elderly great aunt.'
'How can I help smooth their transition into Avon Court, my lord?'
'You can greet the seamstress and her party who will be arriving at any moment to begin the vital but tedious task of bringing all my ladies into the first stare of fashion.'
James settled at his desk to deal with the more pressing matters that needed his personal attention. He hadn't been living a frugal existence but he wasn't a spendthrift by any means. Gambling, drinking and whoring were not for him. He hadn't renewed his wardrobe since he'd changed his style after having approved of the simpler way of dressing that had been introduced by the Regent's friend.
Beau Brummell's sartorial elegance had quite definitely drifted as far as Bath. Members of the ton had houses there and came for the winter months. As James was one of the leading figures in the area, he had reluctantly attended many balls, routs and other prestigious social events. This meant that although not exactly at the height of fashion he certainly wasn't a figure of fun. There were some young men who wore their shirt collars so high and starched they couldn't turn their heads. That nonsense might have appealed to him a decade ago but certainly not now.
He'd happily adopted the new fashion of wearing trousers rather than breeches and stockings, his coats were elegant, plain colours and with no fancy brass buttons. However, he refused to have them made so close fitting that it required his valet to help him on and off with them. He tied his stock simply, and his silk waistcoats were grey or occasionally dark blue. He was more comfortable in his riding clothes than he was in his evening finery.
He was reading with interest of the dividends he'd just received from one of the many investments he'd made in the past nine years. He was inordinately proud of his prowess with financial matters – something his father had considered beneath the Earl of Avon. Since he'd inherited the title the family coffers had been filled satisfactorily in this way which had allowed him to improve and invest in the estates themselves, thus improving the lives of his tenants and the villagers under his aegis.
Smithers returned half an hour later looking stressed and unkempt. 'Good God, man, what have you been doing to reduce you to such a state?' James was on his feet and quickly tipped his secretary a large glass of brandy. 'Here, take a seat, drink this, and then you can tell me what has reduced you to this.'
