‘Only a flesh wound in his thigh, apparently.’ Lady Dereham urged him into the hallway. ‘He should have stayed in London on his way through, but his mama descended and bore him off and then wondered why he was so taciturn. It has healed cleanly, although he is still limping very badly.’
‘My lord, may I say on behalf of the entire staff how happy we are at your safe return?’ It was Wrighton, the butler, allowing himself a rare smile as he took Ashe’s hat and gloves. ‘The household feels the honour of serving a Waterloo hero most keenly, my lord.’
Ashe bit back the retort that he was no damned hero, he was just fortunate to be alive to be fawned over, unlike many men far more worthy of that title. There was no way to say it without upsetting people. He would simply have to adopt an air of manly reticence and hope they would take the hint and stop talking about the damned battle.
‘Thank you, Wrighton. I am delighted to be back.’
The arrival of Race and the carriage with his baggage effectively distracted Wrighton and his footmen and allowed Ashe to escape into the drawing room. Behind him he heard his mother ordering tea and Cook’s special lemon drop scones his lordship likes so much. ‘I will be pounds overweight,’ he grumbled affectionately as his sisters pressed him down into his usual chair, fussing as though he, and not the unfortunate Mr Carr, was wounded.
‘We want to make a fuss of you.’ Anna, the elder and most level-headed of his sisters, smiled affectionately as she sat down. ‘You must allow us that indulgence, you know. In return, we promise not to plague you with questions about the army.’
‘Very well, I consent to being spoiled.’ It seemed strange to be spending so much time with women. First the attention he and the other returning officers received from society ladies, then the time with Bel and now he was the focus of four women’s world. ‘You will have to civilise me again, I expect—I have been in rough male company for too long.’
They sat around him in an attentive semi-circle and he made himself concentrate, think what would please them to talk about. But first he wanted to find out about them. ‘Tell me what you have all been up to.’
‘I have a new governess.’ Katy, predictably, was first to speak. At twelve years old—going on twenty, as her older sisters were known to remark in exasperation—she had no reticence and complete self-confidence. Worryingly she also looked like being the prettiest of the three with hair as blonde and eyes as blue as her brother’s. Ashe shuddered at the thought of policing her come-out. ‘Her name is Miss Lucas and she is very nice.’ That presumably meant she let Katy do what she wanted. ‘And I need a new pony, I have quite outgrown dear Bunting, so Mama is driving him in the dog cart.’
‘I have been taking dancing lessons with the Rector’s daughters.’ That was Frederica, seventeen, with a face that everyone described as sweet and mouse-brown hair. ‘And helping Mr Barrington with the estate books. It is very interesting and he says my arithmetic is exemplary.’
Barrington was the new estate manager, appointed by Ashe on his last furlough. Young, keen, well favoured and hardworking, he had seemed just the man to leave in charge of the estate. He was also the younger son of a respectable gentry family. Now Ashe caught a glimpse of a frown between his mother’s brows and glanced sharply at Frederica. Too young and good looking to have introduced into a household of susceptible young ladies?
‘And I am coming out next Season,’ Anna pronounced. ‘But you knew that, of course.’ She was calm, elegant and usually described as handsome, with honey-blonde hair and blue eyes. She smiled at her mother conspiratorially. ‘And I expect I am going to be a great expense to you, Ashe dearest, for Mama and I have very long shopping lists.’
‘I suppose that means we need to set the town house in order,’ he said, teasing her by looking solemn when all along he had known it was going to be needed. ‘Did I tell you I sold the Half Moon Street property?’ It was like touching a sore tooth with his tongue; he wanted them to ask who had bought it so he could have the pleasure of talking about Bel.
‘Yes dear, you did. Are your chambers comfortable at the Albany?’ Mama was giving him no opportunity to indulge.
‘Perfectly, thank you. When will you need the town house ready?’
‘There is no need for you to do anything, dear.’ Lady Dereham lifted the teapot and began to pour. ‘We will come up in January and start ordering gowns and planning parties then. I will bring most of the staff from here, if you would not dislike that.’
‘Whatever suits.’ Ashe accepted a cup of tea. He had no intention of rusticating in the country any longer than he had to, so he had no need for the servants. ‘But the place is sadly in need of a new touch; I think we should not leave it until you come up after Christmas. I will write to Grimball and have him make a complete survey and do any repairs, then if you come up to town later this month before you go down to Brighton you can decide what redecoration you would like and he can have that done over the winter.’
‘Redecoration? Are you sure? Is that not rather extravagant?’
‘With three sisters to come out?’ Ashe smiled. ‘I am sure it will be an investment.’
He was rewarded by a trio of grateful smiles. Even Anna clapped her hands in delight.
‘It is the first week of August now,’ Frederica calculated. ‘Only two or three weeks and we will be in London!’ Watching her, Ashe saw the pleasure falter and she became sombre. Damnation, she was thinking she would be parted from Barrington. Just how far had this gone?
‘Think of the ballroom done out in blue silk to match my eyes.’ Katy sighed. Her sisters rolled theirs in unison. ‘And my bedroom needs new curtains.’
‘Shh!’ Frederica ordered. ‘Stop plaguing Ashe with such nonsense. Blue silk will have faded long before you get your come out, you precocious child!’
Katy subsided mutinously.
‘Only, I did wonder…’Lady Dereham completely ignored her bickering daughters, fiddled with the cake slice, then made rather a business of cutting the almond tart.
‘Yes, Mama?’ Ashe found he was reaching for a third lemon scone and put his plate down firmly.
‘I thought perhaps I should be putting the Dower House to rights.’
‘Why now? Are any of the elderly aunts in need of it?’ But she was right, it did not do to let a house stand empty and neglected and it must be all of three years since Grandmama had died. ‘I suppose we could bring it back into use and invite some of them to stay there.’
‘No, not the aunts, I think they are all quite content where they are. It was just that I did wonder—now you are back and out of the army and settled—if next Season you would be looking for a wife?’
‘A wife?’ Ashe regarded his mother blankly. Throughout his childhood she had exhibited the maternal witchcraft of knowing exactly what was on his conscience. It seemed the knack had not deserted her. ‘How did you kn…I mean, what on earth would I want a wife for?’
Even well-behaved Anna giggled at that. ‘For all the usual reasons Dereham,’ his mother said tartly. Lord, he was in trouble if she was using his title.
What did I almost say? How did you know? Is that what just came out of my mouth without apparently passing through my brain? Ashe closed his eyes. An image of Bel sitting by the fireplace, just where his mother was now, filled his imagination. The apparition lifted the teapot, smiled at him and began to pour. He opened his eyes hastily. No! I do not want to get married. Bel does not want to get married to me, or to anyone else, come to that. I am not in love with her. She is my mistress; a man does not marry his mistress.
‘I meant,’ he said, getting his tongue and his brain lined up again, ‘I meant, what would I need a wife for now?’ Damn it, he could command a company of soldiers, he could fight the French, he could manage a great estate—when he felt like it. Why did he feel completely helpless and at bay