Chapter Five

T hough Holly felt uneasy moving into Kingston House full-time, she had to admit the comfort of a home being run efficiently by a proper staff was enough to make her never want to leave. She no longer had to rise every hour, on the hour, to maintain the fires so that she and her siblings wouldn't freeze in their sleep, as she had at Felton Manor. After only a week at Kingston House, Holly felt surprisingly relaxed. The nervous strain that had become a permanent pain in her shoulders had lightened, and she felt far more rested than she had been in months, if not years.

Except for the constant arguments she was having with Jasper.

Her brother had been close to furious when he learned they were to be staying at Kingston House. He thought he should have a say in where his family lived. His pride was hurt, Holly knew it, but she hardly had time to console him over it. Unlike her brother, she had to do what was in the family's best interest, not just act for her own benefit.

"Best interest?" he had countered their first night at Kingston House. Jasper had found her in her bedchambers. "Have you lost your mind? Taking charity from this bloke?"

"We don't have much of a choice, in case you didn't notice. And don't act as though we haven't been taking charity already, what with John paying your way through Eton. Plus, who do you think has been paying our bills, keeping our creditors away?"

Jasper's brow scrunched together.

"It was different when it was John. He was a family friend."

"If anything, that made it worse."

"Why?"

"Because you aren't supposed to be a burden to your friends," Holly said.

"Regardless, John should have left you a sum, so that you could manage things on your own."

She agreed, actually—but it was a moot point. "It doesn't really matter now, does it?"

"Still. A widow is expected to be taken care of. This is nothing more than… than…"

He had puffed out his chest.

"Than what?" she argued.

"Than begging on the street."

Holly's eyes widened as her temper flared.

"You ungrateful child," she snapped. "If you'd like to know exactly what begging on the street feels like, then I suggest you continue losing at card games and milking our family's coffers for your own gratification. You've no care for anyone in this family except yourself, and I have had it."

"That's not true," he countered, blinking at her harsh criticism. "I care. I care a hell of a lot more than you think. And I can manage us."

"Oh? Then, by all means, Jasper, how would you like to fix the house? How do you think we should remove the tree that's been on our roof for half a year?'

He gave her a smug look.

"We hire someone, obviously."

"With what money?"

"The money from your inheritance."

Holly rolled her eyes, her hand coming to her forehead.

"I've told you, we don't have any sort of inheritance. I was married by proxy. Legally, I am married to the current baron."

Jasper sighed.

"Then I don't know!"

"No, you don't, yet you're more than willing to criticize me without offering any sort of support."

Jasper's mouth slammed shut, his eyes blazing. Then, he inhaled and puffed his chest out slightly.

"I am the man of this family, and I should have some say in how it operates."

Holly let out a frustrated laugh.

"Oh, you think so, do you? Tell me, how often have you gambled away monies that could have been better used in our home? Do not pretend that John didn't send you extra coin, even though I told him he shouldn't. Katrina is about to be presented to society and she hasn't had any new dresses in over two years. Yet you ask me for a hundred pounds to pay off your debts at a school paid for by the patronage of this very house?" Holly shook her head. "You've no right to tell me that you could manage us better, particularly when you've been funded for as long as you have. Frankly, it's insulting. Lord Bairnsdale has very graciously offered to let us stay here while Felton Manor is being renovated—out of his own pocket, I might add. Once the renovations are complete, we will return to our home, and you will inherit an estate thanks to everyone around you. Everyone except you." She glared at her brother, shaking her head. "I loathe to think what Mama would say of your behavior."

Jasper dropped his gaze, evidently ashamed of himself, but the redness of his cheeks spoke to his mounting anger.

"It's not fair that I shouldn't be allowed to make decisions for myself. As a man, I have the right—"

"Start behaving like one, and perhaps I'd take your opinion into consideration," she bit out, unwilling to let him finish. She was exhausted from fighting him about everything. Particularly when he had zero foresight. "Now, please leave."

He had left in a huff, and by the following morning, he was back on his way to Eton. Holly's temper had eventually subsided, and she was sorry that their last exchange had been so heated, but her brother did aggravate her to no end. His entitlement and indifference to consequences made her worry about his future. At least with him back at school, she no longer had to argue and defend her every move. Now, she needed to direct all her attention on the repairs that would go into Felton Manor and how she would fund Katrina's upcoming season.

Before everything had happened with John, Holly had planned to have several of her own gowns redone to match the latest fashions, but when he passed, she had dyed all of her dresses black for her mourning period. Of course, not being well versed in coloring clothes, the dye didn't take very well. This had resulted in ruining two gowns and mudding the rest. Now, she only had one decent dress that she had managed to turn deep blue. Gavin had offered to send Holly and Katrina to a modiste in London, but—

No . Not Gavin. Lord Bairnsdale. Holly had started thinking of him as Gavin, and she needed to correct herself.

He seemed to be everywhere she went. It made sense, of course, since he lived at Kingston House as well, but every room she entered, he was there, and if he wasn't, he would eventually show up. It didn't help that her sister was always wandering about the grounds on solitary ambles, having taken it upon herself to learn every inch of their new home, leaving Holly inside by herself. She had tried to avoid him at first, not particularly pleased with being alone with him. The memory of his hand reaching for her in Felton Manor had caused her great worry. Would he try to do so again? Even though they were technically married, he had to know that any physical touch between them was out of the question. If an annulment was going to happen, they needed to keep their distance.

Not that Holly couldn't control herself. She was more than capable of keeping her hands off him. But there was something curious about Gavin Winscombe that made her think about things she had never dared to before.

He was an attractive man, that much she couldn't deny, but there was something more to him than just his pleasing face. There was an underlying solidity to him, as if nothing in the world could shake him or push him off balance. If he ever became upset or angry, moments later it would melt away and he would become completely disarming and earnest. She had first noticed it the second week since arriving at Kingston House, when he had found her in the library, pouring over the latest fashion plates from London that had come with the latest letter from her dear friend Clara, the new Duchess of Combe. She would often send Holly and Katrina pamphlets with the latest dress styles as both sisters had a fondness for fashion.

He walked into the room, carrying himself like a man aware of the world. Holly's eyes lifted from the pages on the table before her to take in the sight. It wasn't a leisurely walk, nor guarded, but rather a self-assured gait that projected confidence.

Catching her gaze, Gavin smirked, holding his large hands up as if he was surrendering to the authorities.

"Don't mind me, I promise I'm not here to bother you. I'm just looking for a book."

Holly didn't believe him for a second. Whenever she smelled mint and lemons, Holly knew he would appear and try to talk to her. She had resisted at first, being wary of him, but his quiet confidence had slowly drawn her out. And as indifferent to mint as she had always been, she found it rather annoying now. Her heart would jump slightly at the scent, and it was aggravating to know why.

"You don't bother me, I assure you," she lied.

"Really?" he said, paused, and then shook his head as if he had more to say but was choosing to refrain.

Holly's brow arched as he turned his back to her.

"What?"

"I didn't say anything."

"No, but you were thinking something."

He peered over his shoulder, and the way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he smiled made her core shake. She remained still, unwilling to show any outward reaction.

"Perceptive," he said, reaching for a book. He moved his fingers over the spine and pulled it down before facing her. "I was just surprised that you chose to keep your seat. You usually go scurrying from the room whenever I enter."

She scowled.

"I don't scurry."

The side of his mouth quirked, and he made a clicking noise with his teeth.

"I've seen you scurry."

"Mice scurry, my lord. Ladies simply leave."

"Still with ‘my lord,' then?" He said, flipping through the pages of his book. "My, what a formal marriage we live in."

Holly's mouth flattened, and she exhaled out of her nostrils.

"We won't be married for long."

"Well, one hopes," he said, snapping the book shut. "But I've been doing some reading on the topic."

"The topic of marriage?"

"Annulments, actually. I'm afraid our Mr. Armstrong is in for a rather brutal workload. It seems that Catholics don't like to undo things."

"He will manage to get us out of it, I'm sure," she said, standing up. She would have no peace to finish inspecting these dress designs in the library, not with this man smirking at her as if he knew some secret. "Is there something else I might help you with?"

Gavin tilted his head, his hazel eyes looking her up and down before he spoke.

"Are you a gambler?" he asked. "I mean to say, have you ever gambled before?"

"No," she said pointedly. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," he said, a self-satisfying grin on his lips. Holly turned to leave when he spoke again. "Good day, Holly."

Thankfully, she was already halfway out of the room when he said her name. Her eyes closed at the sound of his voice, and she did indeed scurry away, needing to be out of his presence immediately.

There was something startingly familiar about Gavin, she thought as he made her way to her rooms. She felt a sort of kinship with him, as ridiculous as that sounded. It was more than just his ability to look on the bright side of things. There was a loneliness behind his smiling eyes that she recognized in herself and though she would never admit it, she found an odd comfort in knowing that he felt lonely as well.

But Holly could not, would not let him distract her. The coming season was at the forefront of her mind, and she decided to discuss the dress matter with Katrina over breakfast the following day.

The dining room was a long, somewhat narrow, south-facing room with pale pink wallpaper decorated with a bluebird and cherry blossom pattern. It was one of Holly's favorite rooms and had been the first one she had redecorated last summer when John had insisted that she help him.

It had been an odd request and Holly hadn't wanted to be too opinionated, but John had very much wished for her to style it in her own tastes, insisting that he always trusted her style, and eventually Holly had relented.

It had been a great deal of fun, choosing wallpapers and fabrics, not worrying about the cost of any of her choices. Out of all the rooms in Kingston House, the dining room was certainly one of the most cheerfully decorated.

That morning, a seasonal serving of strawberries and cream, poached eggs, toast, pound cakes, tea, and cocoa had been laid out on the white linen table. A fresh bouquet of orange tulips had been cut from the spring garden. It made Holly sorry that she hadn't been able to have something so lovely at Felton Manor for so long, but she was grateful to be a part of it here.

She sat at the table across from Katrina, who was flipping through the same fashion pamphlets that Holly had dropped off in her room last night. Apparently, her sister hadn't put them down since.

"I quite like this one," she said, pointing to an illustration of a white bodice gown with a periwinkle blue underskirt and a sheer overlay. "But this one is lovely too. This Miss Piedmont certainly is a talent."

"Miss Piedmont?" Holly repeated with a frown. She had deliberately tried to push Katrina toward Mrs. Bean's plates as they were less expensive.

"Yes. It must have fallen out of your letters. I found it on the ground, peeking out from beneath the table in the library."

"Oh," Holly said, pouring herself a cup of tea. "Well, Miss Piedmont is quite costly."

"But look at this one. It's exquisite."

Holly glanced up as Katrina held up the pamphlet.

"Yes, it is. But maybe you can try something from Mrs. Bean's collection."

Katrina frowned.

"But hers are so old fashioned." She looked down at the other pages that covered the table. "Can we not afford a dress or two from Miss Piedmont's shop, now that you're the lady of the house?"

The familiar pinch in Holly's shoulders returned.

"It's not that simple. The baron is already helping restore Felton Manor. I should hate to ask for more, particularly when there are a number of other dressmakers who make good enough gowns."

"But ‘good enough' isn't going to get me a husband of standing. And the baron did promise to honor his uncle's wishes."

"Yes, but I'm… afraid to ask, I suppose."

"Why should you be afraid to ask for money?" Katrina asked, taking a sip of her tea. "It is yours too, isn't it?"

Holly gave her sister a wry smile.

"Keep that opinion to yourself when searching for a husband this season, my dear," Holly murmured. "Besides, we have plenty of material to create a trousseau for you."

Katrina took another sip, somewhat dejected.

"I was looking forward to going to a real London modiste."

"At the very least, you will have London-made gowns," Holly said. Was a modiste really necessary at all? Perhaps they could skip that expense altogether. "Supposedly, Mrs. O'Kirk, the housekeeper at Bairnsdale Terrace has a very steady hand."

"The housekeeper?"

"Yes." Katrina remained silent, causing Holly to glance up. She saw her sister's brow scrunched together as she chewed on the inside of her bottom lip. "What is it?"

"It's just…" she started but shook her head. "Never mind. I'm sure it will be grand."

Holly gave her a reassuring smile but understood her hesitation. Even though she was bright and beautiful, reassembled gowns wouldn't give Katrina much edge compared to all the ladies paraded about London. Every season, the events seemed to become more and more spectacular, and they were both aware of how important it was for Katrina to make a match.

Just then, Mr. Jorden arrived, holding a tray of letters that he presented to Holly. She scooped them up.

"Thank you, Jorden," she said.

He nodded and turned, leaving just as quietly as he had come. The first letter in her pile was Clara. She read it eagerly.

Evidently, Clara's sister-in-law, Lady Violet Winters, was hoping to reach London before the season so that she might attend to her wedding dress, which was being made by the most exclusive modiste in London. Lady Violet had recently become engaged to the Earl of Trembley's youngest brother, Fredrick. Clara was writing to ask if Violet could be escorted by Holly and the new baron to London as the dowager duchess was away in Italy for the season and Clara and Silas were needed in Bristol to secure some building for one of her father's inventions.

Of course, Holly would welcome Violet and immediately sent off a missive saying yes. The second letter she read, however, robbed her of all her joy.

The spindly handwriting of Mrs. Charlotte Payne stared up at her, and the letter became suddenly heavy in her hands. She wanted to avoid it, to throw it away and not read whatever condolences were given in its contents, but knowing Charlotte the way she did, she knew it would announce a day of a visit, and it was always better to be prepared rather than surprised.

Holding her breath, she tore open the letter.

Dearest Holly,

Bertram and I called on Felton Manor the day before but found you weren't in residence. We will be around Kingston House at noon.

Sincerely,

The Paynes

Holly reread the letter several times before dropping it to the table, only to see her sister's concerned expression.

"Charlotte?" she asked, apparently aware of Holly's discomfort.

"Is it that obvious?"

Katrina stood, finished with her meal.

"You only ever look like that when Charlotte or Bertram are brought up."

"They'll be here before noon," Holly said, just as Mr. Jorden reappeared.

"Mr. Mannion is here," he said quickly. "I tried to stop him, but—"

"Where is he?" A bellow from the hallway echoed through the dining room. A short, red-faced man with thinning grey hair and bright blue eyes entered the dining room. He pointed his finger directly at Holly. "I demand you hand him over!"

The Mannions and the Smyths were longtime neighbors who had always gotten on quite well, though the relationship had diminished in recent years. Old Mr. Mannion had been angling to buy Felton Manor for months to expand his farm and while he had been polite and charming at first, he had become increasingly less so since Holly's first refusal. He had continued to offer, each time decreasing his price until it had become close to insulting. Holly hadn't seen him since their last tense encounter, when he offered her a hundred pounds for their entire property, citing that the tree that had fallen on the manor had eviscerated the property's worth, as if the house was the only part of the property that had any value. It was a ridiculous idea, since it was the land he wanted anyway—if she had sold it to him, he would have just knocked the house down anyway.

"Who?" Holly asked, standing, hoping that he wasn't searching for Jasper.

A whiff of mint suddenly filled the air.

"Don't pretend that you don't know who I speak of," Mr. Mannion spat. "Your brother will pay for this, that bast—"

"Excuse me."

Gavin's calm, strong, masculine voice seemed to echo throughout the room, catching everyone's attention. Mr. Mannion whipped around.

"Who are you?"

The slightest uptick in his right brow made Holly concerned. She wondered what Gavin's reaction would be to such rudeness, but he seemed unfazed.

"As it's my home," he began. "I believe I should be asking that question."

"Your home?"

"Yes."

"Then you are—"

"The Baron of Bairnsdale," he said with the barest of nods. "And you are?"

The short man inhaled sharply and approached Gavin to bow.

"Mr. Stephen Mannion. Your neighbor, and possibly your enemy, if you're housing that," he pointed his finger again at Holly. "Woman's brother."

A pregnant pause followed. Holly saw Gavin's eyes lock onto Mr. Mannion as a flash of warning crossed his face. He exhaled before he spoke.

"I can assure you that Mr. Jasper Smyth isn't in residence," Gavin said quietly, his hazel eyes on Mr. Mannion's hand. "I can also assure you that if you insist on pointing your finger at that woman, I will have no choice but to remove it."

A tense silence fell around all of them. Katrina's mouth fell open as Holly's gaze shifted from one man to the other. Mr. Mannion's hand dropped slowly as he cleared his throat with an insulted cough.

"You don't understand."

"I understand that anything can be understandable, given the context," Gavin said, the quip appeasing him more than anyone else judging by the slight pull at the corner of his mouth. Holly herself felt a small smile creep across her own lips. "What I won't stand for is disrespect in my home."

Mr. Mannion began to stutter and spit.

"That boy has ruined my daughter!"

"Oh no," Holly said, stepping forward, but Gavin held his hand up to indicate that she should stay put.

Irritated but intrigued, she stilled and allowed him to continue.

"That is a serious accusation, Mr. Mannion. Are you sure?"

"She told me as much!"

"When was this supposed ruining?"

"The night before last. He came to bid farewell to my Daphne."

Holly turned to Gavin. Jasper had left days ago. He knew it but apparently wished to learn more.

"How long was he at your home?" he asked.

"A quarter of an hour."

Holly and Gavin shared a look.

"Alone?" Gavin asked.

"Yes. Well, not quite," Mr. Mannion said, stomping his foot. "My wife was there in the parlor with them."

"And she witnessed this?"

"Yes. Well, no," he said. "I mean, she was there, but she went into the hall to give them some privacy. Daphne only told us this morning that the blackguard had behaved inappropriately—and I demand he marry her."

Gavin's eyes shifted to Holly's, and she silently cursed. She wondered if she would ever not have a headache where her brother was concerned.

"I see. Well, I'm sorry to inform you, but Mr. Smyth left several days ago to return to Eton. He hasn't been here for nearly a week."

The old man's eyes bulged.

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Mannion," Holly said slowly. "But my brother did return to school."

"He was in my very parlor, the night before last!"

"Even if he had been," Gavin began, his tone growing sterner. "I find it hard to believe a youth like Jasper would have the talent to defile your daughter, with your wife only a few steps away, in under fifteen minutes, without your wife being any the wiser until this morning."

"I demand that he be held accountable!"

"I don't see what you could possibly want," Holly said.

"Well, now, I'm not an unreasonable man, as you well know, Miss Smyth," Mr. Mannion said, shaking a finger once more at Holly. "But I cannot let such an injustice pass without restitution."

"Put. Your finger. Down, Mr. Mannion," Gavin said with a hint of threat in his tone. The man dropped his hand to his side instantly and Holly felt a bloom of warmth in her chest. She ignored it. "And she isn't Miss Smyth. She's a baroness and should be addressed as such." He glanced at her. "Isn't that correct?"

Holly swallowed, uncomfortably aware that Gavin had left out "dowager." If they were going to let everyone believe that she truly had married John and not Gavin, then that would make her the dowager baroness. She should correct him, but then it wouldn't be an honest correction. She was technically married to Gavin, so the title of baroness was accurate.

Perhaps she should merely ignore it and move on.

"Yes," Holly said softly, before looking to Mr. Mannion. "And what restitution would you be looking for?"

"Well, only what's owed to me. Perhaps, your farm? Trivial, really, compared to the injustices my family has suffered, but again, I am not an unreasonable man," Mannion said, his tone dropping. "Is it not in your brother's possession yet?"

Holly felt a sickening feeling settling in her stomach. So that is what this was all about. Wishing to be rid of this meddling man once and for all, she squared her shoulders and held her chin up high.

"Unfortunately, we sold the manor, Mr. Mannion," Holly said, stepping forward. "Day before last."

She ignored the curious looks from her sister and Gavin.

"Sold it?" The old man scoffed. "To whom?"

"I'm afraid I cannot disclose that, but we had to. To pay off Jasper's debts, you see."

"…Debts?"

"Yes. Massive debts, I'm afraid. He's a terrible spendthrift, my brother. And gambler too, actually, but not a very good one."

"Holly—"

"There's no need to hide it, Katrina," Holly said, turning back to Mr. Mannion. "We shan't stand in the way of Jasper and Mr. Mannion's daughter. If you insist upon this marriage, Mr. Mannion, I'm sure I can convince my brother. No doubt they will be able to spend your daughter's dowery on a least a portion of his debts. Lord knows the money we earned from selling Felton Manor barely covered a quarter of it—"

"Um, well, now, let's not be too hasty," the old man said, suddenly holding up his hands. "I'm sure there has been a mistake."

"Oh?" Holly said with feigned interest.

"Yes. Yes, as you said, my lord," Mr. Mannion said, addressing Gavin. "Mr. Smyth couldn't possibly have ruined my daughter in just fifteen minutes, with my wife so near at hand no less. In fact, I believe this to be one of my daughter's imaginative stories." He took a step backwards. "Yes. Yes, that's it and I would greatly appreciate it if everyone here could feign ignorance of her silly claim."

Holly smiled sweetly at him.

"Of course," she said as Mr. Mannion quickly left.

Katrina immediately came up to her sister.

"Oh Holly, why did you say that? Now everyone will think Jasper is no good. His reputation will be tarnished."

"I had no choice. Can you believe that man? Trying to soil his own daughter's reputation to gain the manor," Holly said, returning to the table to gather her correspondence.

"Why did you tell him that you sold it?" Gavin asked, coming towards her, at the edge of the dining room table.

"So that he might leave me alone."

"You could have told him that your debts were paid and that you had no reason to sell Felton Manor now." Holly looked up at him as she picked up her letters. "Why not tell him the truth?"

"Because I don't consider my debts paid."

He tilted his head.

"You don't?"

"No. If anything, they've just been transferred to you." Gavin's brow creased and Holly knew he was about to argue. Looking down at the pile of letters she held in her hand, she saw a letter addressed to Gavin and picked it up quickly to hand to him. "It seems your mail has gotten mixed up with mine."

Without her usual attention to detail, she quickly separated her letters and handed Gavin his, leaving the room as fast as she could. She needed to prepare for the Paynes' arrival, especially since she knew they liked to show up early. Hopefully she would be able to meet with them without Gavin's presence as he had plans of going to Felton Manor to inspect the tree.

Holly was quick to go through her daily morning tasks. It was Thursday, and she was set to make lists for the larder. Also, as it was the last day of the month, the following Sunday meant that she would have to go out to see tenants, a task that she had performed for the past several months.

Yet the soft threat Gavin had issued Mr. Mannion hadn't left her. She wasn't sure if she should be offended by his outrageous words or if she should be grateful that he had been so swift to stand up for her. Holly had rarely, if ever, had anyone to protect her, and she was surprised by just how nice it felt to be defended.

Even though she would never admit it aloud.

Returning to her rooms to write replies to her correspondences, she wondered if she would have enough time to do so before the Paynes' arrival. She was in something of a hurry, since the morning had gotten away from her and the conversations she had had with the kitchen staff had taken longer than usual.

Rushing to finish, Holly reached across the desk and carelessly knocked over her inkwell.

"Oh no!" she said quickly, standing up, but it was too late.

Blackish blue ink completely covered her hand and sleeve. She would need to wash it off instantly with lye if she didn't want it to stain.

"Drats," she said to herself as she ran from the room to return to the kitchens.

She was definitely going to be late greeting the Paynes now.