A Ghost of a Chance
Surprised as the cold air whipped by her face and out the door, Nera sat down quickly in the nearest chair.
Mrs. Wilkes, however, was already taking matters into her hands. “Tamara, dear, go fetch Lady Cranston. Bianca, you must find either Rand or Drew. Poor Nera! You sit right there and I will ring for tea.”
Mrs. Wilkes seemed both intent on keeping Miss Cranston from bolting, and gathering as many people in the room as possible, because she had Tamara wait a moment while she went to the bell pull before releasing her daughter to run her errand. She resumed her guard at the door and told Miss Cranston she was not going anywhere at the moment, so she had best make herself comfortable. That young lady sniffed and ignored her.
Bianca returned first, with the colonel and the viscount in tow, and she must have already explained the situation because they came in wearing expressions of sympathy and disgust. Neither spoke to Miss Cranston, but went straight to Nera.
“Are you all right?” Lord Meare asked, taking her hands in his. “You are as cold as ice!”
“What about me?” Miss Cranston demanded, still holding the scissors and gown. “I am the one who got run through by that… that thing!”
The viscount deliberately turned his back on her, but the colonel gave her a pitying glance.
“If you will look down, Miss Cranston, you will see why we are concerned for Miss Morrow.”
The girl looked at the gown and smiled. It was not a pretty sight. “She deserves it, coming here and stealing Lord Meare away from me! Lady Sandwell told my Mama I was to be a viscountess, and now look at me!”
“I see,” her mother said from the doorway. “I see a stupid chit who just ruined her last chance to be Lady Meare!” She was undeniably angry with her daughter.
“I suggest you pack your bags, Lady Cranston,” the viscount said coldly, “and leave Sandwell as soon as possible.”
“I agree,” the earl said from behind Lady Cranston.
“Prudence will…”
“Prudence will do as I say,” Lord Sandwell said. “And she will ensure that Miss Morrow is recompensed for her loss. I suggest you start packing.”
Lady Cranston dragged her daughter off in a huff, the dress now lying forgotten on the floor. Miss Cranston kept insisting she was the injured party, even as she was being hauled off down the hall, and that something needed to be done about that ghost.
“What ghost?” Lord Meare asked.
“The White Lady,” Nera whispered, and then burst into tears. Her first real ball and now she had no gown!
Mrs. Wilkes shooed the gentlemen out of the room while Bianca put her arms around her sister and hugged her tightly.
“We will manage something,” she said, knowing instinctively what had Nera in tears. “We always do.”
“What is going on in here?” Miss Thompson demanded from the doorway. “What are… Oh, no! Is this your gown, Miss Morrow?” She came in and picked up the tattered object and frowned. “Whomever did this ought to be horsewhipped!”
“An excellent idea!” the colonel said, his head in the door. Evidently the gentlemen had not gone far. “I think I could manage to do that to Miss Cranston while her maid packs her belongings.”
“Miss Cranston! How awful for you, Miss Morrow!” Miss Thompson held the gown up to her, gauging the fit. “Excuse me.”
Everyone was quiet, and they could hear Miss Thompson speak to someone down the hall.
“I told you not to retaliate, didn’t I?” she said smugly. “Some of us know when to cut our losses, I suppose. I will have to make a full report in my next letter to our mutual friend, Miss Kingsley. You recall Laura Kingsley? What a gossip! London will know the whole of it by that evening, in which case you will want to stay home until the story dies down. Maybe even stay home the entire season.”
There was a loud smacking sound and Miss Thompson cried out. “A full report!” she threatened and they all saw her storm off down the hall in the opposite direction.
“Who knew?” Tamara asked with her usual irrepressible tone.
“Who, indeed? Now, gentlemen, if you will please see that the Cranstons have a carriage ready, I will help Miss Morrow,” Mrs. Wilkes said. She got Nera to her feet, folded her into her arms for a hug and looked her up and down.
“You should be able to wear something of…”
“Mine,” Miss Thompson said, coming back into the room with a silky gown in an eau de nil color. “This pale green will look lovely on you, Miss Morrow, and I do not think it shows me to any advantage. I only ordered it because Papa said I could not, that it was too low in the front. Fortunately, you have more than I do to fill it out.”
Nera eyed the girl warily, and even Mrs. Wilkes seemed suspicious.
“Is there something wrong with the gown?” she wondered.
Miss Thompson let out a nervous laugh. “I do not blame you for being suspect. I should be, too, in your place. I just do not want to see you suffer because of Miss Cranston’s instability. I went to school with her, and I know what she is capable of. I tried to warn her away, but she would not let it rest. I am glad to see she is leaving.” She held the dress out to Nera. “Here. Try it on.”
“But you might need it.”
“I have several to choose from. You do not think I would have just one, do you?” she mocked herself.
Mrs. Wilkes closed the bedroom door and Nera was helped out of her gown by Bianca. The pale green dress was thrown over her head and Nera had to smile at her reflection, because the cut and color both suited her down to the ground.
“You will be the belle of the ball!” Miss Thompson said sincerely. “And if that does not get a certain viscount’s notice, nothing will.”
“Does everyone know about him but me?” Nera protested.
“Yes!” Mrs. Wilkes said. “Now, ladies, it is time to rest. Tamara, you take Bianca with you. I will stay here for a while with Miss Morrow. Miss Thompson, you need to take a nap if you plan to stay up all night.”
“Could I go with you?” she asked Tamara almost timidly. “I am so very sorry for anything I ever did or said to any of you.”
Tamara was a good-natured girl and she quickly agreed that Geraldine could come to her room.
“You are so very kind to my sister and me,” Nera noted to Mrs. Wilkes after the other girls were gone. “But I know it cannot be without a reason.”
Mrs. Wilkes tucked her into the bed, sighed and sat down on the edge of the mattress.
“You are a clever girl. Yes, I am trying to be helpful because you and your sister are soon to be family, but there is another reason. I was a lot like you, in that I, too, had to live under the umbrella of a family scandal. In my case, it was my father, who was brother to Lady Eleanor. He was a very sad case of a human being and my siblings and I despaired of ever going out in society without someone bringing up his name and the scandalous things he had done. Fortunately, Lady Eleanor took us under her wing, took us about with her and dared anyone to compare us to our father. I cannot say she was completely successful. Some people will always make comparisons. However, she ensured that we all made love matches so that we might find some protection from society with our spouses. In my case, it worked very well, we were very happy and you see how at least two of my children turned out. I promised myself if ever anyone else should cross my path in a similar condition…” She paused and leaned over to kiss Nera’s forehead.
“Now you know. Sleep well, my dear, and just in case we have to do some altering on that gown, we will dress you first.”
Nera was content as she watched Mrs. Wilkes leave the room, and then quickly fell into a deep sleep.
It was almost time for dinner, and all the young ladies had congregated in Nera’s room to put the finishing touches on their toilettes. Nera was pronounced perfect in her new green gown, “except for one little thing,” Tamara said and brought out a box of flower arrangements for hair or sash, or to carry.
“These white marguerites are for you to carry, Bianca, and I do not believe I need to tell you who sent them.” The young ladies all hooted with laughter as Bianca blushed becomingly.
“Young Mr. Thompson sends his compliments, Victoria, and this nosegay of violets for your sash.” As Miss Woodbury wore lilac satin, the tiny bouquet was an excellent match.
“Not content to let his son have all the attention, Mr. Thompson has sent Mama a sprig or two of pussy willow for her hair,” Tamara announced, and produced them. Mrs. Wilkes wore pale gray.
“As for you, Miss Thompson, you are honored above all others for saving the day. Lord Sandwell does not wish to be excluded. He offers you this bouquet of yellow roses.” Yellow was a harmless color for a rose, and signified friendship. Miss Thompson said she was flattered to come to the notice of their host.
“And now, the best for last…”
Nera shook her head at Tamara’s theatrics.
“Miss Morrow’s perfect white orchids with pale green centers, for her hair!” Everyone applauded and the maid assigned to Nera stepped forward to pin them on the side of the cluster of dark curls cascading down the back of her head.
“Shall we go downstairs?” Mrs. Wilkes suggested, her own hairpiece in place.
Their arrival in the main drawing room was all Nera could wish for. Even the countess smiled benignly and acted as if one of her toadies, and the toady’s nasty daughter, had not been routed earlier that day. The only two missing from the group were Lady Eleanor and Aunt Muriel, and they did not arrive until it was time to sit down for dinner. Nera would have liked to have quizzed them, as they were being more secretive than usual, but they were not seated anywhere near her. She was placed between the Mr. Thompsons.
She wished she had been placed next to a certain someone else, but that was a dream for the moment, or a goal, even though she had never gone after a man in her life. Tonight, however, was her turn to shine and she looked up to see Lord Meare watching her from up the table. She could not help but smile, and his answering smile warmed her heart.
As soon as Nera smiled at him, Drew was lost. She was wearing his flowers, she had managed to find a replacement for her damaged gown and she acted as if there was no one in the world but him. And nodcock that he was, he had yet to ask her to dance, let alone declare himself.
Plenty of time for the latter, he decided, but he needed to rectify his error regarding her dance card before the local lads appeared and monopolized her for the rest of the evening.
After dinner, which his mother had made blissfully short, with only four courses, the ladies retired to the drawing room. The gentlemen did not linger, not with two of them either betrothed or practically betrothed, and Drew used Mr. Thompson and Rand as an excuse to follow the ladies as quickly as possible.
“You have made an excellent choice, son,” the earl said as they left the dining room together. “Do not worry about your mother. I will make her see reason.”
“Does everyone know?” he wondered aloud.
“Yes!” several of the men, including his cousin and Mr. Thompson said over their shoulders.
The earl laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Pay those two no mind, son. They will come into their share of teasing over the next couple of months.”
They entered the drawing room and it was all Drew could do to keep from running straight to Nera’s side. That would not do, not in front of his mother. Not yet. Instead, he allowed himself to become distracted by his grandmother and Mrs. Abernathy. The two sat on a sofa whispering together like schoolgirls, and he was certain they were up to something.
“Who are you opening the ball with this evening?” Lady Eleanor asked him when she noticed him drawing near.
“You, if you will have me,” he said, giving her a saucy wink.
“What a lovely idea!” Mrs. Abernathy exclaimed. “You really should, Eleanor.”
“It would certainly put a spoke in Prudence’s wheel,” his grandmother conceded. “All right, young man, I will. But you did not send me flowers this evening. Which lovely young lady here was the recipient of your regard? Let me guess. Miss Thompson? Hmmm… No. She might have redeemed herself, but she is still not worthy of you. Miss Bianca? Already spoken for.”
“Grandmama,” he protested. “You do not have to do this.”
“All right, all right,” she conceded. “But if you do not ask Miss Morrow to dance soon, she will be taken.”
“Does everyone know about this?” he wondered again.
“Yes!” the two older ladies said in unison.
Nera watched, amused, as Lord Meare led his grandmother out onto the dance floor to open Lady Sandwell’s ball. A few people around her were surprised, and some of the young ladies appeared outraged, but Nera thought it was charming, not to mention diplomatic. Also, it was typical of the things she loved about Drew.
She was engaged to stand up with the elder Mr. Thompson first, but she also had sets lined up with his son, Colonel Wilkes and, surprisingly, Lord Sandwell. But no Lord Meare.
Just when she was hoping he would ask for a set – any set – he had been pressed into service greeting guests, and she did not see him again until he brought Lady Eleanor out onto the floor. Lady Sandwell, Nera could see, was not pleased, if her tight-lipped expression was any indication.
“I fear Cousin Prudence was hoping Drew would show his preference for a wife tonight, by leading the lucky girl out first,” Mrs. Wilkes said from behind her fan just as Mr. Thompson approached. “Clever young man…”
Nera nodded and allowed her partner to escort her out for a country dance. She was glad it was not a waltz, but there was one in the third set, which was available. Perhaps… But the third set came and went without Lord Meare approaching. Nera was already bored with the event, because she knew so few people, and she felt as if some of them were whispering about her behind her back. No wonder, she supposed, when Lady Sandwell was making the rounds and occasionally pointing her out.
“Pay Prudence no mind,” Mrs. Wilkes said kindly when one young man was forestalled from heading her direction by his mother. “Or any of these other gossipmongers. Look, here is Rand to partner you in the next set. Are you fatigued, my dear?” she asked Bianca, who was on his arm and looking as if she could use another nap.
“There is a lot of negative energy in this room tonight,” Bianca said faintly. “I fear something is going to happen…”
Just as she said it, a cold wind blew through the entire room and snuffed out the candles overhead, plunging the ballroom into almost complete darkness. Only a glow from the doorway provided any light.
“What is it?” Nera wondered, even as people around her screamed and exclaimed in fright. “Bianca?”
“Our friends are not taking too kindly to the things being said about us, Nera. I was afraid of this … Look! It’s William!”
“That’s William?”
“That’s William,” Mrs. Wilkes and the colonel confirmed as the late Earl of Sandwell entered the room. He came over to Lady Eleanor and smiled. She smiled back, as if she were used to seeing her dead husband every day.
“I knew you had a good reason for all this,” she said conversationally. “Is it time, then?”
The apparition nodded and the candles were all suddenly relit. Nera looked up in surprise; she had seen ghosts do some fairly spectacular things in her day, but this one was completely unexpected. William stayed by Lady Eleanor’s side as she looked at her daughter-in-law.
“Well, Prudence? You had an announcement?”
“But it is not yet midnight! I cannot say it yet!”
“Surely you can. In fact, I will be happy to say it for you. Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, beloved family, and friends new and old. It is well-known that at midnight, my son and his wife will officially become the earl and countess of Sandwell.”
The guests, most of them still stunned by the ghostly display, and the fact that the ghost was still among them, said nothing. No one even coughed or shuffled their feet.
“But I wish to introduce someone else tonight, someone who has been sorely missed from family gatherings. Someone who is finally prepared to step forward and fulfill his rightful place at the head of the Lambert clan. My son, Lord Robert Lambert, Earl of Sandwell!”
A ripple ran through the crowd at that announcement, because this was something everyone could understand. The heir was home! He came through the door with his brother, Lord Charles, and Nera almost cried out in surprise. The hermit was the earl! And he had been shaved, dressed properly for a ball and… He was the other man in her vision! She almost fainted.
“Are you feeling quite the thing, Miss Morrow?” Lord Meare asked, suddenly at her side.
“I…”
“Watch her, please, Cousin Jenny. I need to greet my uncle, and then I shall return.”
Mrs. Wilkes agreed and took Nera’s hand, patting it gently. “I confess I was hoping something like this would happen. Look!” she exclaimed, pointing out the viscount. Or the gentleman who was no longer the viscount, Nera realized. He was approaching William. And smiling.
Drew would never say he did not believe in ghosts, ever again. Here was proof
in the form of a beloved, missed grandfather, and he was not going to lose the
opportunity to speak to him.
“You’ve led us on a merry chase, sir,” he said with a smile, bowing to the apparition. Beside the late earl, his grandmother beamed through the few tears leaking out of the sides of her eyes. “But don’t you worry about the family. Or the estate. We’ll take good care of everything, Grandfather,” he said. “Uncle Robert, Father, Grandmother, and Miss Morrow and I.” He made a courtly bow, and the spirit did the same. It gave Lady Eleanor the ghost of a kiss and then he disappeared.
“Uncle Robert, welcome home!” Drew said once the spirit was gone. “No one ever had a better fanfare than that!”
The older man chuckled and when Drew held out a hand, pulled him into his arms for an embrace instead. “I was surprised myself, tell the truth. Is he gone now, though? I do not exactly relish the idea of the old man standing over me every second…”
Drew motioned for Rand to bring over Miss Bianca, for an introduction as well as confirmation that this was what his grandfather had been waiting for before moving on.
“Uncle Robert, Miss Bianca Morrow. Miss Bianca, my uncle, Lord Sandwell.” She gave him a pretty curtsy and he nodded. “And you remember Rand, of course.”
“Of course! It is Colonel Wilkes, is it not?” he asked with a smile. After a few moments of conversation, Drew asked Miss Bianca what everyone in the family wished to know. Was the late earl truly gone?
“Yes, my lord,” she said. “He is happy. And gone.”
“No longer my lord, Miss Bianca. I am just Mr. Lambert now,” Drew reminded her, smiling. In a way, that was a relief. His father approached.
“We should start the dancing once more. I am going to take Prudence upstairs, she is feeling quite unwell, as you can imagine. Drew, find your uncle a partner. As host now, he should be out there with his guests.” His father winked at them and retreated to assist his wife to her bedchamber.
“Your father is right, nephew, but I believe I am already acquainted with several of the ladies here, and I will choose my own partner.”
Drew bowed. “As you wish, my lord uncle.”
“Cheeky boy! Excuse me.”
Drew watched as Lord Sandwell went straight to where Cousin Jenny sat with Tamara and Nera. Perhaps Uncle Robert was going to ask his cousin to dance, which would be nice. However, the gentleman, after a few moments speaking to them all, bowed to Nera and took her hand to help her to her feet. Drew watched in amazement as the two walked slowly to the middle of the room, the musicians began a waltz, and they danced.
“What is that all about?” he demanded of his cousins after moving over to their corner of the room.
“Cannot a gentleman dance with the lady of his choice?” Mrs. Wilkes asked with a twinkle in her eye. “Especially a lady who has been the brunt of gossip all evening?”
Drew was stricken. He should have danced with her earlier, instead of leaving her to the mercy of the old tabbies his mother associated with. She must have spread her poison quickly, not willing to take the defeat of Miss Cranston lying down.
“What could I do to help that situation?” he wondered.
“She left this with me,” Tamara said, her smile bright as she handed over Nera’s dance card. “Perhaps you might want to fill in the few gaps she has left? Your lady is quite popular, you know, despite the gossip, although some of it, no doubt, is to see if the tales are true.” She clucked sympathetically, and Drew was hard-pressed not to laugh. She sounded like an old lady.
“Tales?”
“Is she like her mother? Will history repeat itself? Dare we even make her acquaintance?” Cousin Jenny shook her head. “She is a lovely girl, Drew, inside and out. Do not take too long before securing her attentions. But no announcements this evening, I beg of you. We’ve already had one, and there is another on the way.”
Drew bowed to his cousin’s wishes. “I have no desire to steal Rand’s thunder. Besides, I do not work as fast as a soldier.” That reminded him that Rand was to report for duty soon. Too soon. He saw a flicker of worry on Cousin Jenny’s face. “He will be all right, cousin. This is Rand we are talking about, after all.” The man seemed to live a charmed life, if half of his war stories were true.
“I know. I tell him he is too bad to get himself killed. Not so good to avoid injury, of course, but rather bad overall.”
Drew chuckled. “I can only agree.” He wrote his name down on Nera’s card and handed it to Mrs. Wilkes and not her nosy daughter. “Tamara?” he offered, holding out his hand for her card. When he had finished, she read it quickly and laughed.
“You are a scamp, Drew! Miss Morrow is welcome to you!”
He grinned, bowed once more and went on his way. His father’s name had been down on Nera’s card for the supper dance, but he had marked it out and penciled in his own. He had also moved his father over to Tamara’s card. She would see that he was entertained during supper.
Nera was dancing with the hermit. A hermit no longer, however, but the Earl of Sandwell, the family’s long-lost heir. On the sidelines, she could see Lady Eleanor about to burst with happiness, and Aunt Muriel was beaming.
“I trust you are feeling better, my lord?” she asked, dying to quiz him about so many other things instead. When had he returned to England? Why had he been posing as a hermit? What was he going to do with his family now that he had returned?
“Much better, Miss Morrow, and I have you to thank for it.”
“All I did was find you in your hut.”
“But you sounded the alarm, and my mother went into action.”
“Were you in her quarters, then, when I called at the hut the other day to see how you were faring?”
“You came by again? That was very kind of you, Miss Morrow. Your sister says you are more kind than she is.”
“Nonsense! Bianca is an angel. I am quite human, I assure you, with a human’s feelings.”
“Ah, yes, feelings. I did not have any of those for a long time, honestly, but they have returned in the past few years.”
“Have you been in England long, then?” she dared ask.
“No. I was in India, but I had kept up a correspondence with my mother. I did not want her or my father to worry about me. I got a letter that said that the earl was dying, and I hastened home. He was gone by the time I arrived, but then Prudence got it into her head that she would be countess if I did not reappear. She talked my brother into petitioning the courts for the title, and I decided to let her have her fun. After all, I needed time to adjust to the English way of life once more. My mother suggested the hermitage, and I agreed. We were both looking forward to surprising Prudence tonight, but I’ll confess my father took me by surprise.”
“I knew who he was, but even I did not realize what he was up to. At least you got to see him again,” she said kindly.
“I am very grateful to both him and your family for that opportunity.”
“I believe that reuniting people with their loved ones, even temporarily, is the most rewarding part of our work.”
“I have known your aunt for a long time, but had not heard of this recent endeavor of hers until I was brought into the house. My mother had, by my choice, little contact with me, lest Prudence become suspicious. I will tell you, Miss Morrow, that my brother has known of my existence for a while.”
He surprised a laugh out of Nera. “Truly? I think people tend to underestimate your brother.”
“I happen to agree. I am grateful to Charles for keeping the estate in such fine shape, and have asked him to stay here and help me learn what he knows. I was an exporter in India, not a farmer.”
“You are quite forthcoming with me, a perfect stranger, my lord.”
“Am I? Are you?” he wondered. “You seem almost like family. I did not see any of the other young ladies making the acquaintance of a lowly hermit, not nor showing any concern for his health. To give your sister credit, I understand she has been rather confined lately. Randolph has had a hand in that, I believe,” he said with an indulgent smile.
“He will make her a fine husband,” Nera said, thinking this Lord Sandwell had certainly gotten an earful while staying in the dowager’s apartments. Not surprising that the two older ladies would bring him up to date on all the happenings.
“Because he will protect her,” the earl was saying. “But you, Miss Morrow, you do not require that, do you?”
Nera smiled. “No, my lord. I am the sort who would want an equal partnership, not someone to take care of me.”
“That is not impossible, you know.”
“I am not so sure,” was her sad reply. The only gentleman she wanted was Lord, er, Mr. Lambert, and he was too high-handed above half.
After their dance, Lord Sandwell handed Nera over to the young men suddenly clamoring for her to be their partner, which disgusted her. The hypocrites! Then, to her surprise, Drew cut through them without a by-your-leave.
“Settle down, gentlemen,” he said. “This set is mine.”
Nera curtsied gracefully as he bowed to her, and she allowed herself to be led out onto the dance floor.
“I do not believe you are even on my card, sir,” she noted as they lined up for a reel.
“On the contrary, Miss Morrow. I am down for this set, and the supper dance. You will see my names when Cousin Tamara returns your card.”
“Oh.” She did not get much of a chance to say anything else, as the dance was a vigorous one that did not allow for much conversation. It was just as well. She had a number of questions for him, and they were not the sort she wanted others to hear.
Later, after dancing with several gentlemen, because Mrs. Wilkes had advised her to overlook the hypocritical nature of the dance invitations and just enjoy herself, Drew returned for the supper dance – a waltz.
“Did you retrieve your dance card, Miss Morrow?” he enquired.
“Indeed, I did, Mr. Lambert. Imagine my surprise that your name was truly written in, as you said…” Her merry eyes belied her words.
“I am wounded that you did not take me at my word!” He clutched his heart briefly before taking one of her hands and putting his other on her waist. It was warm where his palm rested.
“I am certainly in your debt for doubting you.”
“I like that thought, Miss Morrow. I shall have to think of a way for you to repay me.”
“I have no doubt you will think of something. I used to believe you were rather staid and unimaginative, but I have since revised that opinion.”
“I used to be staid and unimaginative,” he agreed. “Until a beautiful lady with the most extraordinary talent came into my life.”
“My aunt will be flattered by your compliment to her,” Nera teased.
Drew cocked his head sideways as he danced her around the room. “Are you flirting with me, Miss Morrow?”
Nera smiled and tossed her head. “Why would I do a thing like that, Mr. Lambert?”
“Because you can?” he pointed out.
“Not me! I am a provincial chit of a girl who has never even been to London!”
“For a provincial chit you are doing a good job of it now,” he said with a chuckle.
“I had excellent teachers?” she impishly suggested, peering up at him from under her lashes.
He threw back his head and laughed, causing matrons to whisper behind their fans. “If you are speaking of two certain young ladies, surely you learned more of what not to do?”
“There are several different ways to learn, sir, and setting a bad example is one of them. One of the young ladies has redeemed herself, thankfully, and while we are not exactly bosom beaus, I am grateful to her for her generosity.”
Drew looked her up and down, causing her to blush. “Hmmm… I would say she exceeded all expectations, as you are the most stunning young lady here this evening.”
Maybe it was the sincerity in his dark eyes, but Nera got the impression he was no longer flirting. “You are too kind, Mr. Lambert.”
“I am never kind, and you know it. Just honest. That you must believe.”
“We are both honest, almost to a fault. I thank you, then, for the complimentary truth.”
“You are very welcome.”
The dance ended with the two of them in contemplative silence and complete harmony, and he escorted her into the supper room adjacent to the ballroom, where a large table groaned with food.
To her delight, he settled her with Bianca at a table for four and said he would return momentarily. A servant came forward and poured out wine and then retreated, leaving the two sisters alone.
“Are you having a good time?” Bianca asked.
“It has been unforgettable.” The sisters giggled together just like old times over that, and Bianca said the colonel was to announce their engagement before the ball resumed. She was clearly excited.
“I am so happy for you both,” Nera said, and meant it.
“But your vision has not changed?”
Nera shook her head. “No, and that one moment has not yet arrived. I find myself curious now as to how it will play out. After all, nothing has happened so far to give it much credence.”
“I said before that I believe you are looking at it from the wrong angle, and I have a feeling I am correct.”
“I certainly hope so.”
The colonel appeared at Bianca’s side with two plates of food, one piled high with all manner of delicious treats, the other barely half filled. He sat the laden one down in front of Bianca.
“Eat,” he urged.
“You are not hungry, Colonel?” Nera enquired. “I thought you enjoyed a healthy appetite.”
“I am much too nervous, Miss Morrow.” He looked enviously over at her sister, who was placidly munching a macaroon.
“I am complacent because this is merely a formality,” Bianca said calmly when she caught his eye.
“She is saving her nervousness for the actual ceremony,” Nera teased.
The colonel turned pale and put down his fork. “Please, do not remind me.”
“You would think someone brave enough to battle the French would not cavil over a wedding ceremony!” Nera joked.
“They are two completely different situations, I assure you,” he replied. “Give me a good skirmish any day!”
“Are you so nervous about marrying my sister, or the ceremony itself?” Nera asked.
“He does not like to be in front of all those people without being able to give out commands,” Drew said. He put a moderately filled plate in front of her and a similar one at his place before sitting down next to her. “The entire situation is out of his control.”
“I admit that a battalion of men is easier to control than one mother, a great aunt and a wife, even if she is the most angelic creature on earth.”
Nera and Drew exchanged glances and rolled their eyes at each other.
“I believe you need only appear in your regimentals, colonel, with a ring, and repeat whatever vows the rector puts before you,” Nera assured him.
“Yes, Rand, my sister is correct. Leave everything else up to us.”
The colonel groaned. “That is what I am afraid of!”
They all laughed at that and turned the conversation to other topics. And because they were a merry group, they ended up with several other tables being pushed next to them, so that it was a large party surrounding them when the colonel stood and tapped his wine glass with a spoon to gain the room’s attention.
“I have a couple of things I would to say,” he told the company once it was quiet. “First, I hope you will all join me in welcoming home Lord Robert Lambert, the Earl of Sandwell. To your health, my lord!”
“To the Earl of Sandwell!” The toast was echoed and everyone drank to him. The earl graciously nodded to the guests.
“Second…” The colonel reached down for Bianca’s hand and brought her to her feet beside him. “I wish you all to know that I am the most fortunate man in Christendom this evening. Miss Bianca Morrow has agreed to be my bride.”
There was a mostly pleasant murmuring of the crowd as Bianca blushed.
“To Miss Bianca Morrow!” the colonel exclaimed, raising his glass once more. Everyone followed suit, drank, and drank again when the earl stood, welcomed Bianca to the family and offered a toast to the happy couple.
Nera felt tears prickle at the back of her eyes. Happy ones, to be sure, but tears nonetheless. Under the table, she felt Drew take her hand and give it a squeeze.
After supper, once everyone was back in the ballroom, Nera found herself standing next to Bianca, the colonel on the other side. Bianca was holding her flowers in her hand, and looking expectedly at the approaching Drew, who gave her a wide smile and bowed.
“Congratulations once more, Miss Bianca. Do you think it would be noticed if I asked your sister for a third set?”
In the background, the new earl looked on indulgently, and Nera gasped, not at Drew’s audacity, but at her vision come to life. Bianca shook her head.
“Much as I would not mind a declaration of that sort for Nera, it would be talked about, and she does not need the gossip. Do you, dearest?” she asked of her sister. “Nera?”
Nera needed to sit down. How could she have been so wrong? She barely registered Drew taking her by the elbow, whispering something to Bianca, who giggled, and then escorting her out of the room. In fact, she did not even notice anything until she looked around and saw they were in the library.
“No announcements,” Drew was muttering under his breath. He had hold of Nera’s elbow, but dropped it and went to the grog table to pour out brandy. Two glasses. “How the bloody hell did I manage to agree with that?” he wondered aloud.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Excuse my language, Miss Morrow. It has been a night of revelations, has it not?”
He could say that again. She nodded and took the brandy he offered, and sat down on the sofa. “Your uncle reappeared, your grandfather made his presence known…” Her vision had come true, and was a far cry from how it had been interpreted. But she refused to hope for more.
“I have discovered there is more to life than what we think we see.”
“This is true.” She was pleased to know he had discovered that for himself.
“And I am no longer Lord Meare, as your ‘Mr. Lambert’s’ keep reminding me.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No. It just needed to be added to the list. We should include Rand’s fear of the marriage ceremony to it, as well. Can you imagine being scared of something so simple?”
“It is unknown territory to him, so it is only natural that he be nervous.”
“I would not be nervous in front of the vicar,” Drew insisted. “Not if the right lady was at my side, repeating her own vows.”
“I am certain the right lady makes all the difference. Which is why Bianca is not nervous at all. She knows she is the one for him.”
“But only a short while ago you were not so certain… You thought she was meant for me.”
Nera was not going to tell an untruth. “I did. But as my sister pointed out several times, I must have been seeing it from the wrong point of view. As I was, this evening, when it occurred and nothing untoward happened.”
“No fire and brimstone from the sky to let you know we had gone against fate?”
“Not even a sizzle,” Nera said, giving him a rueful smile. “Which means I have learned a lesson, as well. Do not judge a book by its cover.” She recalled Maurice’s advice when they began this adventure, and knew it was true in more ways than one.
“Does this mean you will never trust your sight again?” he wondered. He took a seat next to her on the sofa and sipped his brandy. Hers remained untouched in her hand.
“Of course not. I could not turn my back on something that has been a part of me my whole life. What if I saw something important and did not heed the warning?”
“Has that happened before?”
“Yes,” Nera whispered, looking up at him. “The day my mother left us. I did nothing to prevent it because I was angry at her for something she said… And yet I saw her get into that coach, valise in hand. I let her go, and now my sister and I are paying for it.”
He took her glass and set it aside so that he could take one of her hands in his. “Miss Morrow … Nera … Your mother made her own decision. Do you truly believe that your interference could have stopped her?”
“What if it had?” She bit her lip to keep back the tears.
“If she was unhappy, she would have attempted it again, some other time, with some other man. Perhaps her words were said on purpose. I am certain she knew of your talent.”
“I believe she was always jealous of Bianca and I. She never told us what her talent was, although she must have been able to do something. The gifts we have run through the female line, and we all have a talent in some degree.”
Drew took the glass from her hand, set it aside and turned her towards him.
“If you have a daughter, then, she will be talented in some way?”
Nera had never thought of that, but she had to suppose it would be true.
“Yes, although one never knows what it will be until it happens to her.”
“Nera...” Drew paused and she looked at him questioningly.
“Yes?”
“If... When... Will...” He seemed to like that word, because he repeated it twice. Then he said, “Will you marry me and give me lots of daughters with all sorts of amazing gifts?”
Nera’s eyes grew wide, not only because of his offer, but by his acceptance of her talent.
“Drew, do you know what you are saying?” she gasped.
“That you have visions, your aunt can read minds and your sister can see ghosts? And that any one of those things would continue through however many daughters we might have?”
“Yes!” Nera threw herself into his arms. “Yes, I will marry you, and yes, there is no doubt our two daughters will lead us a merry chase when they...”
“Two? You know?”
“Well ... Actually...” Nera searched her mind for a change in subject, already doubting his believing her vision.
“Don’t you trust me?” Drew wondered. “How many children we have is strictly between you and me. I love you, but I do not think such information should be a secret from me.”
Nera blushed. “I suppose not. I should trust you, Drew, but you will have to be patient with that. However, I do love you.” Somehow, in the midst of everything else, they had managed to become engaged and then say those words. Now that they had both confessed their love, that was settled, at least to her satisfaction.
“How many...” he prompted.
Nera leaned forward and whispered in his ear, and he drew back in amazement.
“That many? I have a feeling we are going to be very busy the next couple of years.” He grinned at her and she blushed once more.
“I suppose that we are. However, I know nothing about the order of their appearance, so do not be alarmed if you do not get one of those sons first.”
Drew pulled Nera close and rested his chin on her head. “They are all going to be loved, no matter how they appear. Mama will...” He pulled back once more.
Nera sighed. Lady Charles - as she was no longer Lady Sandwell - would no doubt give them a difficult time before they were wed, seeing as she did not like Nera.
“You will have to speak with her at some point, Drew.”
“I know.” He did not sound as if that was very appealing. Nera was glad she was not the one to have to deal with the lady. Not yet. They left it at making no formal announcement of their betrothal until such time as they had Drew’s mother’s approval.
After all the house guests left two days later, Aunt Muriel, Bianca and Nera discussed their own departure with Lady Eleanor.
“But you cannot leave!” the dowager insisted.
“Our work here is done,” Aunt Muriel gently reminded her. “William seems to have moved on, Robert has been restored...”
“...And Prudence is in a bedeviled state,” the dowager finished. “Besides, I have yet to hear an announcement from either Drew or you, young lady.” She shook a finger at Nera.
Nera flushed. She and Drew had spent a lot of time together since the ball, but as of yet, she had nothing to announce.
“I should have a talk with your grandson, Eleanor,” Aunt Muriel said, cracking her knuckles in a most un-ladylike manner. Nera could just picture her aunt cracking a few heads, as well.
“The problem is Prudence,” Eleanor said knowingly. “I doubt Drew will extend a proposal while she is so down.”
Nera wished she could relieve the ladies on that point, but she had promised Drew not to say anything just yet.
“You should stay out of this for now, Muriel,” Lady Eleanor continued. “You said yourself that Drew shields naturally, and you would get very little out of him if you started prying into his relationship with his mother.”
“I agree,” Nera said, all her concern for Drew. “But there is something that might work.” No one said she could not approach Lady Charles on her own.
“What?” the dowager asked curiously.
“Oh, just a small glimpse into the future,” Nera said more optimistically than she felt. She left her family and the dowager wearing puzzled expressions and set off to seek an audience with Lady Charles Lambert.
Outside that lady’s room, she met Drew’s father, who bowed but did not appear to be his usual cheerful self.
“You are unwell, sir?” Nera enquired with concern.
“I am worried about my wife,” he confessed. “You might not believe it, but I do love her and I worry that she has shut herself away from the life she has always enjoyed.”
Nera was of two minds about the enjoyment part, but she said nothing.
“Someone needs to tell her that the world is not at an end. I have tried, but she refuses to listen. Robert has promised Prudence the position of his official hostess, both here and in town, but she says she is not interested.”
Now that sounded very unlike the lady.
“Lord Sandwell did not ask Lady Eleanor?”
Lord Charles smiled. “Did she not tell you? She plans to move in with Mrs. Abernathy soon, now that you and your sister have found new homes.”
“But I have not ... That is, Drew and I...” She looked at Lady Charles’ door.
“It only needs Prudence’s approval, I suppose. However, Drew needs to stop feeling sorry for his mother and move on with his life, blessing or no.”
“I would rather have the blessing,” Nera softly admitted. “Which is why I have come to speak to your wife.”
“I do not advise it, Miss Morrow, despite my words.”
“Of course not,” she agreed. “Except for one thing.” She leaned forward and whispered something in his ear. She was rewarded by a wide smile from the earl’s brother.
“That might do the trick!” He took her by the hand and they entered his wife’s sitting room.
A startled maid carrying a full tray almost dropped her burden and began to scold Lord Charles in fluent French.
“No time for that now, Marie,” he insisted. “Miss Morrow and I have good news for your mistress. Hold on to that tray - she might even eat after she hears what this young lady has to say.”
The maid shook her head in disbelief, but she sat the food down on a table and followed them into the bedchamber.
“Go away, Charles,” his wife said, scowling at the small parade of people invading her room. “And take the girl with you. I believe I know what she wants, and I shall not give it to her.”
“No?” Lord Charles wondered.
“She has caused so many problems for me, she and her sister and her aunt. Nothing either of you say will make up for that.”
“I think it will, Prudence.” Lord Charles was still grinning. “Do you believe Miss Morrow has visions of the future that come true?”
“Of course I do!” she snapped. “As I said, it was that and the other curses her family has that ruined all my plans!”
Nera stepped back, unsure now that she wished to share anything with this woman.
“Do not run away, mademoiselle,” Marie whispered in her ear. “This is the first sign of life I have seen in my lady in days.” She gave Nera a push forward.
“You must hear of Miss Morrow’s latest vision,” Lord Charles insisted.
“No!”
“Prudence...” There was steel behind her husband’s voice, the first time Nera had ever heard him speak to her in such a tone.
“Very well. But it had better be worth my time, Miss Morrow,” she said, fixing Nera with a glare.
“I think it will be, my lady,” Nera said, feeling another push at her back. She turned around to tell Marie not to force her, but there was no one behind her. Marie had retreated to the door.
“Thank you,” Nera whispered, and felt something icy touch her cheek. More confident with a ghost of Sandwell at her back, she approached the bed. “I know your fondest wish was to become Lady Sandwell.”
Lady Charles sat up straight. “You think this will still come to pass?”
“No, I am afraid I do not know the answer to that question,” was Nera’s truthful reply. “But I know what your second fondest wish is.”
“To see Drew become the next earl.”
“Or perhaps his son?”
“Drew refuses to marry to please his mother,” she said with a pout. “But I truly want grandchildren. I need to know there will be an heir.”
Nera leaned in, much as she had done with Lord Charles, and began to whisper earnestly in the lady’s ear.
“Three!” Lady Charles suddenly exclaimed.
“And those are just the boys,” her husband said, beaming.
“There will be girls, as well? There hasn’t been a female born into the Lambert family in five generations!”
“Girls, too,” Nera assured her, holding up two fingers. “Young ladies who are going to need a grandmother.”
“Marie!” Lady Charles shouted. “Where is my dressing gown?”
Several years later...
While the first of the next generation of Lamberts dozed on her cot, Nera and Drew stood over her and smiled.
“Two years old today,” Nera whispered proudly, her hand unconsciously rubbing the mound under her heart where her daughter‘s next sibling rested. “I still find it hard to believe.”
“Mama is very happy,” Drew noted. “We may never get her to leave.”
Nera was so pleased with her mother-in-law’s transformation from witch to doting mother and grandmother, she was not even certain Prudence had to depart from the cozy horse farm that she and Drew called home. “She is more than welcome to stay as long as she wishes.”
“I agree,” he replied, and Nera was not sure what amazed him the most - his mother’s change of heart and new outlook on life, or his daughter. “I just wish she would not come in here at all hours and take Rosamund out of the nursery.”
The nanny had been most vocal about the baby disappearing recently, and the only person who could have done that was Drew’s mother. She certainly always seemed to have little Rosie whenever the child went missing.
But then, as they were watching over their sleeping daughter, Rosamund suddenly vanished.
“Bloody hell!” Drew exclaimed.
It was sure to bring a scolding from Nanny, but Nera was laughing.
“I suppose I should have warned you,” she said, “but I was not certain exactly what talent she would possess, and when it would manifest itself. We’re in for a very rough time of it, I fear.” But she was smiling.
“Nera, I love you more than life itself, but what exactly the devil is going on here?”
“The talents in my family run in the female line, as you already know. Some of us can read minds, others are mediums and some get visions of the future. However, there are a precious few who can move themselves from one place to another, and objects, as well. I believe little Rosie is one of them.”
“What?”
As Drew spoke, a blanket lifted itself from the cot and floated out of the room.
“Ghosts?” he asked, alarmed.
“No, dear.” Although Bianca and Maurice said there were a few benign spirits lurking about the old farmhouse, they preferred to keep to themselves.
“Then what?”
“Rosie must be cold.”
“How can a two-year-old...”
“I doubt she even realizes she is doing it. As I said, we are in for a rough time.” They followed the blanket into Lady Charles’ bedchamber and found Rosamund curled up with her grandmother, the blanket tucking itself in around her.
“How many daughters do you think we are going to have again?” Drew whispered faintly.
“Two,” she softly replied. “I wonder what talents the next one will possess?”
“I wonder how many gray hairs I will have in the morning!”
The End
©2007, 2008 Copyright held by the author.