Chapter Twenty

Sebastian was wide awake as they approached Albury House. Catherine was asleep, with Maggie dozing beside her. Dodds had ridden most of the way outside with the coachman, saying they needed two pairs of eyes for such a journey. It had been as expected, slow and cautious. Although they had passed abandoned carts and other vehicles on the side of the road, they hadn’t ended up in a ditch, so that was something. Once they had turned off what could loosely be termed the northern “highway”, things had been a little more nerve-wracking. Night had fallen, but Sebastian had known they were not far from home.

And this was his home, despite the length of time he had been away and the circumstances of his leaving. As a child, as a boy, in good times and in bad, he had loved this place. To his surprise he rather thought he still did.

It was dark, but the storm clouds had long since cleared away and the moon shone down. They passed by the wood where Seb had helped his father replace the fallen trees and listened to the earl’s hopes of a future when Sebastian’s own children would climb them. There was the fence his mother had jumped over on her mare, and he could almost hear his father’s voice as he told her to be careful. Sebastian had laughed, thinking it a great joke. Once, when he was a child, they had picnicked on the lawn, and his parents had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. Seb had watched them, half asleep himself, and thought how lucky he was.

And then at last they turned onto the circular drive at the front of the house, and he saw that everything was in darkness. He was so used to London hours, he had forgotten this was the country, where folk went to bed early. But the darkness was not quite complete because there was a single light burning in an upstairs window, and it was a relief to know someone was awake.

Seb climbed down from the coach, and stretched his stiff body, before he went to ring the bell that hung beside the door. The sound was loud in the silence. When no one came, he rang it again, and the agitation inside him grew.

Catherine and Maggie were descending from the coach with Dodds’ help, and their voices drifted toward him. He was here, he was home, he had answered Grimsley’s summons. Why was no one waiting to let him in? Had his father forbidden him entrance to his own home?

When the door was finally answered, it was by a servant he had never seen before, a nightcap on his head and a robe hastily thrown over his nightshirt.

“Do you know what time it is?” the man demanded grumpily.

Sebastian wasn’t going to put up with that. “I am Viscount Albury here to see my father. And you are?”

The servant’s eyes widened in shock. “Sir... I apologize, sir. You weren’t expected. No one knew you were coming.”

“I don’t know why. I had a message from Mr. Grimsley to come at once. Unfortunately, the storm held me up and...” He stopped. “Never mind that. Where is Grimsley? And where is my father?”

The man’s eyes grew even wider, probably at the thought of waking them and explaining why he hadn’t immediately welcomed the son and heir into the house. “They’re in bed, sir! Everyone’s abed. We keep early hours here.” Then, seeing the expression in Sebastian’s eyes, “In—in case you’ve forgotten.”

Seb wanted to ask more questions. Wasn’t his father at death’s door? That was the impression he’d had from Grimsley. Had he been misled? He needed to get to the bottom of this, and he needed to hear it from the butler’s own lips.

“Get Grimsley down here,” he ordered. Then, remembering his guests, “No, on second thought, get me the housekeeper.”

The man looked like he wished he could sink into the floor. “She’s not here, sir. She was called away by her sister before the weather turned, sir, and hasn’t returned.”

Why was nothing going to plan? And why was he standing out here? He pushed by the man and strode into the house, leaving the servant to scuttle after him. Instead of the house giving him a sense of warm homecoming, it felt even colder than outside. He wanted to shout orders for all the fires to be lit at once, but one thing at a time.

“The Duchess of Winstanton and her maid are to stay here for the night. Their coach broke down and they will continue their journey to Winstanton tomorrow. I want the best rooms prepared for them.”

The man bit his lip, clearly out of his depth. “The best rooms? I’m not sure...”

Seb might have exploded then. He was fast losing whatever easy-going charm he had left. But a touch on his arm made him turn to see that Catherine had joined him without him being aware of it. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders, she seemed to have lost her pins, and her face looked pale and exhausted. And then he realized that with all his staring he’d missed what she’d said and had to ask her to repeat it.

“I said, instead of yelling at this poor man, perhaps you could find a female member of staff who can help?” That last she addressed to the servant, who gave her a belated bow.

“Of course!” he said, relieved to be told to do something he was able to do.

“Leave the lantern,” Seb growled, when the man moved to take it with him. “And fetch Grimsley too! For God’s sake,” he muttered as the servant’s steps faded into the gloom. The place was in chaos. Even with country hours there should have been some preparation made for his arrival. Why had no one expected him to come?

Impatiently he took off his coat, and then wondered if he should have left it on. It was bitterly cold in here, with the bone-deep chill that spoke of no fires having been lit for some time. He couldn’t let Catherine freeze after he had persuaded her to come here with him. Seb looked about him, and then nodded toward a door to his left. “We’ll wait in there.” Adding under his breath, “Who knows how long the fellow will be?”

The yellow sitting room had always been his mother’s favorite room, and he hoped it was in a fit state after all these years. To his relief, as he held up the lantern to inspect it, the room appeared much the same. The fire was out and from the look of it, hadn’t been lit for a while, but there was a neat pile of wood in a basket on the hearth. Dodds knelt and saw to getting the fire going. Maggie was yawning but quickly covered her mouth when she caught Seb’s eye.

Catherine was drawn closer as the flames caught, and she held out her hands with a shiver. “Can we go on to Winstanton tonight?” she asked, worried dark eyes finding his.

“No, best to wait until tomorrow, Your Grace.” It was Dodds who answered. “Luck brought us this far, but we wouldn’t want to push it.”

Seb expected her to argue but she let it go. Instead, she turned to him. “I thought you were expected. Why was there no one to greet you?”

Sebastian met her dark eyes and saw the genuine concern. She cared about him. The knowledge made his chest ache in that curious way he was starting to grow accustomed to. “I didn’t reply to the message Grimsley sent me. I just... set off. Perhaps he thought I wasn’t coming. And now I’m wondering if my father is dying after all. Surely if he were, there would be a doctor and a nurse, and...” He stopped, an appalling thought occurring to him. “Do you think I’m too late?”

Catherine drew closer. Her cloak brushed against him, and she stared up at him, reading his face. “Oh, Sebastian,” she said. “I do hope not.”

He shook his head tiredly. “I don’t think he’s...” He swallowed. “The servant would have said, surely?” For some reason he was looking to her for reassurance, and Catherine did not let him down.

“Yes, he would have said.” She put her hand on his arm and squeezed. “Why don’t you put your coat back on? It’s very cold in here.”

“I must speak to Grimsley. Where is he?” He glanced about as if the butler had appeared while his back was turned.

“Don’t worry about us,” Catherine said briskly. “We will sort out somewhere to sleep. It’s only one night after all, and you have more important matters to be—”

Her words ended in a soft gasp as he reached for her, drawing her into his arms. He didn’t care that they weren’t alone. He just needed to hold her close. She was warm and soft, and just the feel of her bolstered his spirits and calmed his fears.

“I’m a terrible host,” he murmured into her hair. “I never imagined things would be like this. I hope your castle will give you a better welcome than my home.”

She didn’t pull away, and in fact her body seemed to melt into his. “No, you’re not terrible at all. And how were you to know? I’m sure things would be worse if I’d stayed at The White Rose with that awful...” Her voice trailed off.

He leaned back so that he could see her face. “That awful...?” His mouth quirked. “Do you mean Effie Knowles?”

“She is awful.” It was Dodds who spoke up, making the two of them jump.

“Proper cow,” Maggie added. Her eyes were twinkling as Catherine eased herself away from Sebastian.

Dodds took note of his master’s expression. “We’ll go and see if the rooms are ready,” he said hastily and, taking Maggie’s hand, led her from the room. As the door closed there was a burst of laughter.

Catherine avoided Seb’s eyes, and when he reached for her again she side-stepped him. “I must get home,” she reminded him a little breathlessly. “I promised Jack. He’ll never forgive me if I—”

“I am not arguing with you,” he said, although he sorely wanted to. “You can set off early tomorrow morning. I will even send Dodds with you.”

Relief made her smile. “Thank you. Although I’m sure it will be a terrible hardship for him to come with me and Maggie.”

“As long as he doesn’t stay,” Seb grumbled, and her smile broadened.

“This is a nice room,” she said, glancing about at a spindly-legged table and chairs and the desk by the window. The walls were decorated with paper, a cream background with tiny yellow flowers, and portraits and landscapes hung from the picture rail.

“My mother’s room,” Seb said abruptly. “It looks exactly the same as it did when she was alive.” Almost reluctantly he went to the desk where she used to sit. His heart gave a thump. There was a half-finished letter laying there, the pen waiting in the inkwell for it to be completed.

It was then he understood that his father had left everything exactly as it was on the day his wife had died. The realization made him feel shaky. He had known his parents were deeply in love, and he knew his father had been devastated when she died, but he hadn’t comprehended quite how long his father had been in mourning. He had been thinking of his own misery, wallowing in his own feelings, and rightly so. But perhaps he should have spared a thought for the earl.

Catherine was watching him, that warm understanding in her eyes. “Does the window have a view?”

“It looks over the rose garden, or at least it did. I’m not sure whether the roses are still there.”

“A rose garden would be perfect.” She spoke dreamily. “Yellow roses to match the room.”

He tried to pull himself out of his funk. The least he could do was meet her halfway. “Yes, there were yellow roses and purple lilacs. I remember—”

The knock on the door was loud enough to startle them both. Seb called out for whoever it was to come in.

The door opened on Grimsley.

Seb’s first thought was that the man hadn’t changed. He had been old when Seb left and he was still old. Those woolly eyebrows had always had a life of their own. But as Grimsley shuffled toward him, Seb could see that he had changed. He was more stooped and his grey hair hung down to his shoulders. Yes, he may have been called from his bed, but he was not the spick-and-span butler Seb remembered.

Just as Seb began to wonder if he should introduce himself—had it been so long?—the butler’s face broke into a warm smile, and he reached to take Seb’s hand in both of his. “They told me it was you, Master Sebastian, but I didn’t believe them.” His voice was croaky. “I didn’t think you’d come. I hoped you would, but after... well, who could blame you for holding a grudge? And you may not have felt you were welcome.” His eyebrows dipped down at the memory of that fateful day.

“And yet here I am.” Seb returned the warm handclasp. “And now I want to know why you told me my father was ill.”

Grimsley returned his gaze in silence, considering his reply, and Seb saw that his brain was still as sharp as ever. Then the old man sighed, as if he was too weary for speech, and shuffled toward the fireplace. “Do you mind, Master?” he asked. “My old bones feel the cold more than they used to. And being rousted from bed in the middle of the night doesn’t help.” But he smiled when he said it.

“Middle of the night?” Seb retorted. “At this time in London I would still be getting dressed to go out.”

“That’s as may be, but things have gone from bad to worse at Albury House. There’s not enough money to cover the cost of running a house this size and not much hope of things improving when the estate has gone to rack and ruin.”

Sebastian was silent. This was news indeed.

Catherine cleared her throat, and Seb realized he was being a bad host again and made haste to introduce her. “Grimsley, this is the Dowager Duchess of Winstanton. She is in need of our hospitality for the night. I’ve asked for rooms to be prepared.”

Grimsley looked at her with interest. “Your Grace,” he said politely. “I have heard of you, of course, even though I’ve never laid eyes on you before now.”

Catherine smiled wryly. “My late husband was not one for visiting neighbors, Mr. Grimsley.”

Grimsley made a sound of agreement, before returning his attention to Sebastian. “I’m glad you came home,” he said, and there was an urgency in his tone that made Seb frown. “You’re right, your father isn’t dying. His body is as hale and hearty as ever. But his mind...” He shook his head. “Things can’t go on as they have been. We need you here to take charge.”

“His mind?” Seb repeated quietly. “Is that why the house—”

“Oh, he’ll know you. Don’t worry that he won’t. But these days... he’s returned to the past. Maybe he prefers it there, Master Sebastian.”

Seb rubbed a hand against his chest, as though that might soothe the ache. Grimsley’s words sounded ominous. The past was something Seb always preferred to avoid, and he had done his best to avoid it for twelve years now. But his father needed him, Grimsley needed him, Albury House needed him, and it seemed the time had come for Sebastian to stop running.