Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

A delaide's French was not excellent, but she could make herself understood, and Lady Tipton's maid did indeed prove far friendlier once able to converse in her own tongue. This she discovered when the woman came, later that day, to see whether the adjustments she had made to her mistress's loaned gowns were satisfactory.

The gowns were of such fine quality, it was hard to believe her ladyship had been willing to allow any alteration at all. Adelaide said as much and was surprised when Blanchett exclaimed—in language so animated that her French was difficult to understand—that Lady Tipton did not intend that they should ever be returned. Her mistress had, it would seem, chosen them specifically to match her ‘new niece's' colouring.

Adelaide was touched by Lady Tipton's enthusiasm and cherished the prospect of owning such exquisite clothes. The periwinkle-blue morning gown was particularly beautiful; she had quite fallen in love with it the first time she tried it on and was all anticipation to see how well it looked now that it had been fitted to her.

She caught her breath when she saw herself in the mirror. The gown was every bit as elegant as she had hoped, but that was not what enraptured her. She had not noticed before—perhaps she had not stood in this exact spot or perhaps the light had been different. Perhaps, as downcast as she had been at the time, she had merely paid no attention. Whatever the difference, this time it could not be missed how the shade of the gown brought out the colour of her eyes—and they appeared unmistakably, strikingly violet, just as Lord Oakley had avowed. Adelaide had never much dwelt on her appearance—there had never seemed any point—yet she delighted in this discovery.

" Vous êtes très belle!" Blanchett said admiringly.

" Merci! I must show Lord Oakley! Do you mind?" At Blanchett's blank expression, Adelaide repeated herself in French but did not wait for a reply. Calling over her shoulder that she would return directly, she hastened out of the room and along the landing. As she neared the top of the stairs, raised voices reached her ears. One was unmistakably Lord Oakley's. The other sounded familiar but for the angry tone; she could not quite place it.

"…an explanation for your precipitate departure."

"You did not need to come all the way here to ask for that," Lord Oakley replied churlishly. "A letter would have sufficed."

"I would not like to put my thoughts on this matter into writing. They would not reflect well on either of us. "

"Oh, would you drop your airs! You do not have sole prerogative over the moral high ground, you know. There are things afoot that you do not comprehend."

"I comprehend that I spent three days vigorously defending your honour, believing that you left in distress over Lady Veronica's defection, only to be informed by Grisham himself on my last day what really happened. So tell me, have I made a fool of myself upholding your good name to all our friends? Did you abscond with the Grishams' maid?"

Lord Oakley gave a bitter laugh. "Did you not hear? They kicked her out without a second thought. She was no longer a maid."

"I heard they dismissed her without a character because she was discovered in an indecorous tangle with you !"

"It was not what it seemed."

"Dear God, Oakley, that is what every fellow who was ever caught out says! How could you stoop so low? I expected you to know bet—" He stopped abruptly and snapped his head up to look directly at Adelaide. She had crept down the stairs, bowing low so the stranger's face would be revealed before she descended far enough to be seen herself, but her first glimpse of him drew a loud gasp of recognition from her lips, banishing all possibility of stealth. She straightened, wishing she would not blush but feeling heat creep up her neck regardless.

"Ah…Adelaide," Lord Oakley said awkwardly. "Lord Kemerton has come."

"I can see that."

The earl did not greet her; he only stared at her. And stared. And stared . She felt herself grow redder still, only now with vexation. Was it so shocking to him that she should be dressed finely?

He began to look vexed too. As she watched, the surprise leached from his countenance, leaving anger in its wake. He turned back to Lord Oakley. "What the devil ? I hoped I was mistaken about the whole sorry tale, but at worst I thought you had taken her somewhere for a night or two. But you have installed her here ?"

"Not ‘ installed '! It?—"

"Do not insult me with prevarications. Your intention is clear. You have dressed her as your…your… Damn it, man, have you no shame?"

"Kem, would you cease railing for one minute and listen? I have not brought Adelaide here for… that . I have brought her here because by rights it is her home. She is my sister."

Lord Kemerton recoiled, then spent a few seconds looking between his friend and Adelaide in astonishment. "Your sister ?"

The longer he frowned at her, the more indignant Adelaide grew. It was one thing for Lord Tipton to question her parentage—he was directly affected. Lord Kemerton had no business being sceptical of the discovery. It was not so great a leap of imagination that she should be highborn! Exactly how many polished grates was too many before a woman forfeited her claim to nobility, in his lordship's opinion?

"It seems increasingly likely," Lord Oakley replied. "My father has sent Bentley to confirm the particulars, but I do not need convincing. Allow me to introduce you."

"Pray excuse me," Adelaide interrupted before turning on her heel and storming back upstairs.

"Adelaide! Wait!" Lord Oakley hastened to catch up with her, arriving at her side slightly out of breath. He looked displeased, though he was evidently unsure how to express it. "Why did you leave? That was… I was trying to introduce you!"

"There is no need. Lord Kemerton obviously remembers who I am." And what I am.

"Who you were ."

"Either way, it was clearly enough to repulse him."

"I think he was only shocked. Which, in his defence, we all were. Nobody thought I had any brothers or sisters."

"Would that you had let him continue in the belief that you do not. I would have been spared his scorn, and you would have saved yourself an awkward explanation. I thought we were going to tell the world I was your cousin?"

"Oh, do not worry about that. Kem will not tell a soul."

He continued to regard her expectantly until it became clear she had no choice but to consent to being introduced.

"Very well—only may I be excused from the introduction at this present moment? I am in the middle of a fitting with Blanchett and am in no fit state to greet callers. I would not have come downstairs if I had known you had company. "

"I beg your pardon—I did not realise. I shall introduce you at dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Yes. It is half a day's ride to Kem's estate. He will need to stay the night and leave in the morning."

Adelaide thought it best to refrain from giving any response and set off back to her room with her teeth clenched tightly.

" Lord Oakley a-t-il aimé votre robe, madamoiselle? " Blanchett asked upon her return.

"I have no idea whether he liked it—he did not mention it. He was with Lord Kemerton, who, by the way, thought it made me look like a—" She could see Blanchett struggling to understand and searched for the correct French word. " Une courtisane. "

Blanchett gasped. " Impossible! Lord Kemerton est trop gentleman. " Reverting to English, she added stiltedly but with great earnestness, "You must be mistaken."

Adelaide did not argue. In her experience, lady's maids and menservants were invariably wedded to the notion that consequence was synonymous with honour; it made their jobs easier. She let the matter drop and indicated for Blanchett to help her change.

"I was right to choose that gown for you. The colour does wonders for your complexion." Lady Tipton accepted the cup of coffee Adelaide had refilled for her and continued, "I shall instruct the modiste to use the same colour again when she comes."

"When who comes?" enquired Lord Tipton, strolling through from the dining room with the Lords Oakley and Kemerton in tow to join the ladies in the drawing room.

"The modiste. I was just telling Adelaide how well this gown looks on her. Do you agree?" Perhaps anticipating that her husband would not answer, she immediately directed her enquiry to her son.

Lord Oakley grimaced. "Forgive me, but I cannot get animated about any gown my mother was wearing a few days ago. You had better ask an impartial observer. Kem?"

"It looks very well indeed, Miss Booker," he told her. "Though the one you had on earlier showed your eyes to better advantage."

"Thank you," she replied, gratified that somebody had noticed but piqued that it should be him.

Lady Tipton smiled at his compliment. "And how is your young lady, Lord Kemerton? She was at High Brook also, I take it?"

"You have a young lady?" Lord Tipton enquired. "I was not aware. What is her name?"

"Lady Sophia."

Adelaide clamped her mouth closed—she had not meant to say that aloud, but now everybody was staring at her with obvious discomfort, no doubt aware that she must have gleaned the intelligence in the servants' quarters. She fixed her eyes on the far wall and waited in agonies for the conversation to resume.

"I cannot claim the honour of referring to her as ‘my' young lady, but she was in good health when I left Southampton," Lord Kemerton said presently .

"Come now, you were halfway to being engaged when I was there," Lord Oakley teased. "What happened?"

"I felt obliged to leave. To ensure all was well with…"

"Say it, go on! You felt you had to check up on me," Lord Oakley finished for him, grinning gamely, though if that was the case, Adelaide knew not why Lord Kemerton had been staring at her .

"Do not leave her waiting too long, Kemerton. You'd not like to be pipped at the post like Oakley here," Lord Tipton said.

Lord Oakley's blustering protests were interrupted when a servant arrived to announce that Mr Bentley had returned to Chiltern Court and had news for the earl. The room fell into silence. Adelaide swallowed. At least, if he brings bad news, I shall be able to keep the gowns, she assured herself. They would fetch a pretty penny—enough to keep her fed until she could find work.

"Send him in," Lord Tipton announced. "We must all learn what he has to say eventually. We might as well all hear it at once."

Lord Kemerton came to his feet. "I thank you for a wonderful dinner, Lady Tipton. I shall leave you now."

Her ladyship, her fingers tangled in her necklace, stilled and looked at him as though she was unsure how to respond. Her husband answered for her.

"Sit down, Kemerton. You are as good as family. I doubt you will hear much that will come as a surprise."

Lord Kemerton inclined his head and retook his seat, casting a guarded look at Adelaide as he did so. He was probably anticipating the likelihood that she was about to be turned out on her ear and attempting not to betray his satisfaction. She wished he would not look so handsome when he was being superior; it made him difficult to despise properly. She pretended not to notice his attention, and indeed forgot him entirely when Lord Tipton's man of business appeared in the doorway.

The earl waved him in and instructed him to relay his findings.

Mr Bentley bowed. "I have spoken to Mr Booker. He has confirmed that this young lady was adopted from Princess Caroline's Home for the Care of Unfortunate Waifs in Oxford, in May of 1799. I have seen and made a copy of the papers provided to the family by the home at the time. Her birth name was recorded as Adelaide Richmond."

Lord Oakley let out a whoop of delight. He quieted when the earl barked an instruction for him to desist, but that did not wipe the delight from his face.

Adelaide rather knew she ought to be happy than felt it in earnest, for it was such an extraordinary circumstance as to be almost impossible to believe. It gave her heart to see Lady Tipton smiling at her encouragingly. She glanced at Lord Kemerton to see whether he was disappointed, only to be embarrassed by the intensity with which he was watching her; she averted her eyes and was left guessing as to his opinion.

Lord Tipton, all serious concentration, gestured for Mr Bentley to continue.

"The young lady's natural parents are recorded as the Honourable Mr and Mrs Robert Richmond. She was brought to the home by an anonymous well-doer upon their deaths. There is no mention of a brother in the paperwork, and Mr Booker has no memory of there being one at the orphanage. Indeed, he professed to have no memory of the orphanage itself or Miss Richmond's retrieval thence."

Lady Tipton gave a little gasp. "How can that be? No one could forget the day a child came into one's life."

Adelaide knew how. She bowed her head and left Mr Bentley to explain—and explain he did, in as unembellished a fashion as he had relayed everything else.

"Mr Booker is a drunkard. His estate is being managed by his sons, because he is no longer capable, and he is bedridden with gout."

The sound of four people shifting forwards in their seats and the thrum of heightened attentiveness filled Adelaide's ears.

"Estate?" Lord Tipton repeated. "Do you mean to tell me that Mr Booker is a gentleman?"

Mr Bentley must have nodded because Lord Oakley exclaimed a second time. "I thought your accent was refined for a servant, Adelaide! Why did you not say you were brought up as a gentleman's daughter?"

She shrugged slightly. "It was a long time ago."

"So it was," Lord Tipton said gravely. "And pray, how did a gentleman's daughter end up in service?"

The hope Adelaide had previously held that this part of the tale might somehow be overlooked seemed suddenly ridiculous. Of course they would wish to know. "I ran away," she admitted reluctantly.

Lord Tipton threw his hands in the air. "If ever we needed proof that she was Robert's daughter, here it is! He was an ungrateful, self-serving rebel as well. "

"My lord," said Lady Tipton in a cajoling voice. "That is unjust. We must not tar our niece with Robert's misdeeds."

"Besides," Lord Oakley chimed in, "she is with her rightful family now. She will have no need to run away again. Will you, Sister?"

His happiness was palpable, and Adelaide felt the warmth of his acceptance, but it made Lord Tipton's continued opposition seem petulant by comparison and provoked her to answer flippantly.

"I do not know. Will you make me stand in a storm in my chemise if I get mud on my skirts?"

"Do not talk gibberish, girl," Lord Tipton snapped. "You grow more familiar by the moment. My brother had a sharp tongue in his head, too."

"Always armed with a sharp implement of one variety or another," Lord Oakley said jovially.

"It was your idea to play with swords," Adelaide retorted with a grin.

"Not the first time you stabbed me it wasn't!"

"She stabbed you?" Lord Tipton exclaimed in dismay.

Adelaide would have regretted the turn of the conversation, except she happened to catch sight of Lord Kemerton's appalled expression and decided to drive the point home. "It was more of a jab, really. I did not break the skin."

Lord Tipton stood up. "Very well, I concede. She is undeniably Robert's. Utterly ungovernable! I hope you know what you have brought upon us, Oakley."

He left with Mr Bentley, and Lady Tipton very soon after directed everybody to their beds—though not before she and Lord Oakley both expressed their delight at being able to officially welcome a new member to their family.

That night, the quietness of her room did not trouble Adelaide at all. She slept soundly in the knowledge that she was, at last, home.