ready.’ When the woman turned to the door Bea could temper her puzzlement no longer. ‘Might I ask you a question before you go?’
‘Of course.’
‘This library looks as though someone has spent a great deal of time building it up?’ Her fingers slipped across the bindings of the books.
‘This was Master Cristo’s room, ma’am, before he left for Europe.’
‘Master Cristo?’
‘The youngest Wellingham brother, ma’am.’
‘I see.’ She waited as the woman departed and looked closely at the titles. Older works with little that had been published during the past few years. Cristo Wellingham? She had not heard this name mentioned once in society and resolved to ask Taris all about him.
The door flung open less than a half an hour later and Lucinda Wellingham stood there in her travelling garb and a look of wonder on her face.
‘It is true, then? Mama allowed you to stay in here. My God. No one has been in here since—’ stopping, she put her hand to her mouth ‘—since Cristo left.’ Beatrice was certain that this sentence was far from the one she had been going to say. ‘Mother must have really liked you.’
‘I think she wanted me to have the room because of all the books. I had just told her that I both read and write.’ Another thought struck her. ‘Did the Duke and Duchess of Carisbrook travel up with you?’
‘They did. We came in two carriages as the children and their nanny were with us and so was Azziz, Emerald’s friend from when she lived in the Caribbean.’
‘She lived in the Caribbean?’
‘For years and years.’
Lord, Beatrice thought, every new thing she found out about the Wellinghams made the family stranger.
‘Have you travelled, Mrs Bassingstoke?’
‘No. I had been to London a few times years ago but of late…no.’
‘The Wellingham ships travel all over the world. One day I shall take passage and stay away for years. You and Taris could come too and we could see the sights together.’
‘That is very generous of you, Lady Lucinda, to think to include me on such a grand scheme, but—’
‘Taris likes you or he would never have brought you here. He never has, you know, brought anyone else. You are the very first.’
Hesitating, Bea wondered just how much of her recent incident on Regent Street she should relate to a young woman who talked a lot. ‘Have you spoken to your brother about why I am here?’
‘No?’ Interest was rife.
‘Then perhaps you should.’
‘He used to be easier to talk to than he is now. His eyesight is worsening, even though Asher forbids anyone to mention it, and I think Taris worries he may be a burden. To everyone.’
For the first time since she had met Lucinda Wellingham, Bea saw the kernel of a profound truth in her utterings.
A burden? Did he think he might be such? To her? Another worry surfaced. He knew a little of her nursing a sick husband. Did he put himself in the same category?
She wished she might have had the courage to ask Lucinda Wellingham just how the accident to his eye had happened, but it felt too much like prying to make a point of it. Besides, a quick knock on the door had them both turning and Emerald swept into the room, a child of about one in her arms and a smile on her face.
‘Bea? I had heard you were here. How wonderful. I can’t wait to show you Falder and you can meet the people from the village and my aunts and cousin.’
The little child suddenly twisted and reached out and Emerald laughed as she deposited the redheaded mite into Beatrice’s arms.
Beatrice had never in all her life been close to someone so young and the experience of having small hands reaching out for her was amazing.
‘Her name is Ianthe, and she’s almost a year old.’
‘Ianthe?’ Bea turned the unusual name on her tongue. ‘After the daughter of Oceanus in the ancient Greek?’
Emerald smiled. ‘You are the first person to have ever asked me that.’
‘The Dowager Duchess has just finished telling me that you enjoy the sea. It was easy to make the connection.’
Ianthe cooed as Bea wriggled her fingers. Then the child grasped on tightly and put them into her mouth.
‘She’s teething and wants anything at all to chew.’
Bea felt strong gums gnashing against her skin, and then felt the beginnings of a tooth protruding, and a great wave of happiness swamped her in its intensity. Being at Falder in a golden room with Lucinda and Emerald beside her and a baby in her arms felt like a wonderful gift. The gift of other people’s lives where years hadn’t been lost to silence and fear and where her company was sought out rather than rebuffed.
Tonight she would begin a journal and write everything down, and then when she was back in London at her town house she could read the passages and remember what it truly felt like to belong.
Chapter Thirteen
Dinner proceeded in the same fashion as her afternoon had, all laughter and teasing and talking. Azziz, Emerald’s friend, was a large tattooed man with one ring in the remains of his right ear and a number of white scars across his hands. The same sort of scars she had seen on Emerald’s hands.
At his family table Taris gave as good as he got and Beatrice listened to his explanation of the newest farming methods with admiration.
Asher’s talk was mostly about the building of a new ship.
‘She’s due out to India in four months’ time, Taris, and you said you wanted to be involved in the maiden voyage.’
‘I doubt if I can get away.’
‘But you had it all planned!’
‘I know, but something else has transpired.’
‘Something such as…?’
Taris did not answer and a slight awkwardness filled the room, though it was dissipated by Lucinda when she knocked over her wine and sent that end of the table into a flurry, until the footman mopped it up.
Taris was glad when his brother dropped the subject of the journey out to India. He could not go because the child Beatrice carried would be almost born and there was no trip in the world that would justify missing the birth of a son or daughter.
A cousin for Ruby, Ashton and Ianthe, missing pieces of the Wellingham family puzzle falling into place. Tonight Beatrice was beautiful. To him. Beautiful in the way of a woman who did not know that she was, no vanity or artifice in it,
