Chapter Sixteen
Arabella paused in the entrance to the sunny breakfast room to be sure her hair was still in place, then stepped into the room. Tristan and Marcus were at the sideboard filling their plates with eggs and sausage, while a footman hurried out of the kitchen carrying a rack of toast, which he set on the table before disappearing back into the kitchen.
Tristan’s nephews were already seated and shoveling food into their mouths like they had never eaten before. The boys were far older than Arabella had expected. Seamus was twelve and Sebastian was thirteen. Penelope had been married off in her first season at just eighteen to a man she had loathed to further her father’s wants.
“Aunt Arabella,” Seamus called out as she stepped into the room.
“Hello, boys,” Arabella said, moving further into the room.
“Ah, Arabella, sit and I’ll fix you a plate,” Tristan said, giving her a smile.
“Oh, thank you.” Arabella gave Tristan a nod and then took her customary seat near the head of the table and gave the boys another smile.
Arabella had now been in London for five days, and despite her initial fears, she was enjoying her stay and married life. Hasting House was a large but sunny house. The huge house was basically a long rectangle with the front looking out on the center square and the rear looking out on a small overgrown garden and a good-sized cobblestone yard before a two-story carriage house and stable. On the back of the house overlooking the garden was a huge two story atrium, with a cast-iron spiral staircase that connected the ground floor to the second floor. On the lower level of the large atrium was a massive cast-iron stove, used to help heat the atrium in the winter. Buttons, and Cook, whose name was Mrs. Westing, had told Arabella that many years ago, the old gardener had grown a lemon tree in the atrium.
Tristan had given the atrium to Arabella, much to her delight. Arabella had always longed for a conservatory, and now she owned a huge one. Tristan, true to his word, had taken Arabella to several of the large public gardens in London.
On Sunday, they had gone to Westminster Abbey to attend service. Not out of any great sense of devotion, but out of curiosity to see the famed abbey. When the ushers had found out that Tristan was an Earl and Arabella his countess, they had been led to a padded bench near the front of the cathedral. They had both enjoyed the service and the music, thought Tristan and Arabella agreed they would probably not attend service there often.
Tristan had also taken Arabella, Marcus, and Penelope to the theater twice; he had even purchased box seats for them. Tristan had told Arabella that once the debts were cleared and they had a steady income, he would subscribe to one of the theatres and they could go all the time if Arabella wished.
Tristan had also taken her and Marcus to a street dedicated to shops selling second-hand books, and another street filled with oddity and curiosity shops. In addition to buying everyone books, Tristan had purchased Arabella an assortment of jars for her still room. He’d also taken her to several shops selling plants to buy her seedlings for the atrium and garden.
As for their chamber, Arabella and Tristan had picked the last bed chamber facing the park in the east wing. The room was large with a well-appointed bathing room, one of the modern stoves for heating and a huge capital “L” dressing room that was bigger than Arabella’s bed chamber at Rose Cottage. The dressing room wrapped around the bathing room with the top of the “L” facing the street, with a large window to let in light.
Arabella had taken a pretty white vanity table decorated with tiny pink and yellow flowers painted on it and placed it in the dressing room near the window with a pretty white screen to create a dressing area for her. Arabella had also had several trunks and two benches taken from other rooms and placed them in the dressing room. Large double racks lined three of the walls, more than enough space for Arabella’s gowns and Tristan’s clothes.
Tristan and Arabella had scoured Hastings’s House for furniture to their liking. They had found a huge four-poster bed in one of the rooms and had moved it into their bed chamber. Tristan had moved the table, chairs, beside table, and armoire from his old bedchamber into their new chamber, and Arabella had found several Persian carpets and placed them around the bed to muffle the floor and protect their feet from the cold wooden floor. Their bed chamber still needed some finishing, touches but it was a lovely pleasant room that was Tristan’s and Arabella’s.
Beside their room, at the end of the hall, were two large rooms with windows that overlooked the lane between Hastings’s house and the mansion next door. The rooms had been designed to be a parlor and a secondary music room. The right-most room had a secondary window that overlooked the park, and this room Arabella selected to be her office. The left side room was kept as a small private parlor and used by Tristan, Arabella and Marcus every night.
The chamber directly across from their bed chamber, Tristan took as his office, as he didn’t like using the large, dark office downstairs, especially after it had been broken into.
Tristan set a plate before Arabella, while one of the maids set a pot of hot tea on the table before her. Arabella nodded her thanks as the maid scurried away, disappearing through the door into the kitchen.
“Thank you, Tristan, “Arabella said as Tristan eased into his seat at the head of the table, next to Arabella.
“What are your plans for the day?” Arabella asked, starting on her eggs. Her life revolved around what Tristan planned for them; though she could use a morning of inactivity to work on altering Amelia’s old gowns that she’d brought with her.
Tristan picked up a letter that had come with the early morning post, and held it out to Arabella.
“Marcus and I have to go out this morning. I received a letter from the War Office asking us to come in and make a report on our previous post.” Tristan said as Arabella took the letter.
Arabella read the letter quickly, flattered that Tristan wanted her to read it. The letter was from a Colonel Perkins asking for Tristan to report to him that morning, and to bring sergeant Berkley if he was still in Tristan’s company. Arabella handed the letter back to Tristan with a nod of thanks.
“The other letter is from a friend, Mr. Jules Burns from the Yard. He is an old friend from the army who works at the Yard now. He is helping us with a matter regarding,” Tristan nodded towards the boys and then Penelope as she stepped into the breakfast room.
“Mother,” The boys shouted and rose to race to Penelope, giving her hugs, which she returned with a smile.
“Go finish your food now, and then we shall take a walk in the park,” Penelope stated, heading towards the sideboard.
“Good morning, Penelope,” Tristan said as Marcus gave her a nod.
“I wanted to thank you and Mr. Marcus again for what you did, with, him and for bringing the boys back to me,” Penelope said, taking the seat beside Arabella, who gave her a nod of greeting.
“You are very welcome, it was our pleasure. Not that I’m trying to make you leave Penny, but what are your plans for you and the boys?” Tristan asked as Miriam stepped into the room.
Miriam saw Jimmy by the door to the kitchen and motioned him over. “I want eggs and kippers.” She snapped giving the young footman a withering look.
“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but we only have sausage,” Jimmy replied. “Would you like some tea?”
“I am tired of sausage every day, I want kippers.” Miriam snapped.
“Miriam, please do not take your anger out on the staff. Sausages are cheaper than kippers, and we are still economizing. If you don’t like what is offered, you are welcome to purchase your own food or take a position somewhere else.” Tristan stated, before returning to his food.
Miriam gave him a scathing look before turning to the hapless Jimmy, “Then bring me sausage and eggs ,you fool.”
“I’ll get it, Jimmy, you go back to the kitchen,” Marcus stated. Marcus pushed back from the table; he gave Miriam a forced smile then stepped up to the sideboard and taking a plate, ladled spoonfuls of eggs and sausage onto it and then walked around the table to set it before Miriam. “There you are, miss. Boys, take your plates to the kitchen then come join me in the library; we can look at the globe again while I tell you all the places your uncle and I lived in.”
“Yes, sir,” Sebastian said, elbowing his younger brother before grabbing his plate and hurrying into the kitchen. Seamus reached across the table to take Marcus’s empty plate, then hurried through the door to the kitchen.
“How dare you order those boys to carry their plates to the kitchen? Who do you think you are?” Miriam gave Marcus a withering look.
“I am the son of a vicar and the grandson of an earl, and I know what politeness and kindness are. I also know that one day they won’t have servants fawning over them, and they will need to know how to do for themselves. Lady Penelope, we will be in the library working on geography,” Marcus gave Tristan a look, in response Tristan mouthed Thank you.
“Umm, Tristan, you asked about when the boys and I might leave. While you were away, I returned to the house and spoke to the servants. I reassured them I would be returning and thanked them for their support.” Penelope paused to take a sip of tea. “I know I need to return, but the house is so large, and while the boys are in school during the day I shall be lonely. Here, there is mother and all of you. I know mother is, well difficult at times and unkind to you, but well, she let me stay here when I needed a refuge. I asked my butler to remove the rest of the shall we say, unsavory art and sell it. It’s just the house is so large, and it shall be so costly to keep it up, but it shall be the boys’ one day, so I cannot sell it.”
“You can’t leave here, Lady Penelope, you are in far too fragile a state and too emotional to leave, and her ladyship needs you. If you leave, how can I be sure you take your soothing tonic?” Miriam stated.
Arabella put down her fork and turned to regard Miriam coolly. “I do not think that Lady Penelope is in a fragile state or too emotional. If anything, she is tired, probably from having to deal with her mother. I think it would benefit her to leave the house, and Tristan and I can visit her regularly. As for the emptiness, perhaps Lady Penelope could, well, take in lodgers. I have been reading the papers and there are numerous inquiries asking for houses to rent or rooms to rent in better homes by members of the business class.”
“That is a good idea Arabella, Penelope you could rent out the rooms on the third floor, and offer your services as a chaperone to ton events. It would give you a chance to be out in society again,” Tristan said earning a smile from Arabella.
“That is an absurd idea, Lady Penelope cannot leave here, she needs to stay here so I can give her, her daily tonic.” Miriam thumped her fist down on the table with enough force that the plates jumped.
“I would like to see this tonic you have been giving to Lady Penelope and Lady Sizemore. I am a midwife and an herbalist, some tonics can be toxic if used too long,” Arabella stated, locking eyes with Miriam.
“You are nothing but a country butcher, you know nothing. I wouldn’t let you even touch me,” Miriam sneered.
“How dare you speak to my wife that way? She is a gifted healer and midwife,” Tristan protested. He was about to say more when Arabella placed her hand over his.
“I studied with my mother, who was a midwife, and then with another midwife starting at the age of twelve. I also apprenticed with our village doctor and our village apothecary for many years. In addition, I trained under two different doctors in Bath and was certified by them as an apothecary and a midwife.” Arabella replied coolly.
Miriam shrugged and looked down at her plate, stabbing at the food.
“I think, Miriam, it is time you and my mother leave Hastings House,” Tristan said quietly. He hadn’t taken insubordination as an officer, and he wouldn’t take it from a servant in his own home.
“What?” Miriam gave him a shocked look and dropped her fork, where it clattered loudly on her plate.
“You seem to forget whose house this is. I will not tolerate you disrespecting my wife in her home.” Tristan said evenly his eyes boring into Miriam.
Miriam blanched as she looked down at her plate, “Forgive me, I spoke out of turn. It is just that I have been caring for her ladyship and Lady Penelope for so long. I worry about their health and their mental states.”
“We will discuss this later,” Tristan replied, his tone implying that he would not tolerate any further disrespect.
“If you will excuse me,” Miriam threw her napkin onto the table and stormed from the room.
“Penelope, about this tonic she has been giving you, who recommended it?” Arabella asked, turning to look at her sister in law, noting that she looked rather pale today.
“Doctor Fletcher recommended it; he started treating mother about the time father died. I was still living with my husband then, so I don’t know for sure,” Penelope shivered at the word husband. “ He says it is for her nerves and to keep her calm.”
“Do you know what this tonic contains?” Arabella asked.
“No, it is dark and a bit thick and does not taste pleasant. I only know that soon after I take it I feel calmer and a bit sleepy,” Penelope replied, “And if I stop taking it I get headaches and irritable, recently if I go without for very long my hands begin to tremble.”
“Tristan exchanged a knowing look with Arabella.
“I do not know as much about herbs and medicine as Arabella, but what you are speaking of sounds like laudanum withdrawal. Many men in the army were over-prescribed it for wounds and became dependent on it. When they stopped taking it, they had symptoms like you spoke of.” Tristan said, earning a nod of agreement from Arabella.
“Laudanum, you mean there could be laudanum in the tonic Miriam is giving me? Penelope looked aghast.
“It is possible, I would strongly suggest that you refrain from taking it anymore. If you feel unwell, come and seek either Tristan or I out, and we can help you.” Arabella was both frightened for Penelope and outraged that she’d been drugged against her will. “Do you know where Miriam keeps the tonic?”
“I’m not sure, but I caught her once taking it out of a locked wooden chest,” Penelope replied.
“The next time Miriam has it out, try to read the label if possible,” Arabella prompted.
“I shall try, and I will do as you say and not take it anymore, and thank you, both of you.” Penelope rose from the table. “Arabella, I liked your idea. Would you be willing to interview people with me?”
“Of course I’d be happy to,” Arabella replied.
“I’ll go find the boys then,” Penelope walked quietly from the breakfast room, leaving Tristan and Arabella alone.
Tristan reached over and squeezed Arabella’s hand, drawing her attention. “Thank you for what you said to Penelope, and I would like to apologize for Miriam. I have written to my older sister Rebecca twice and asked her to take mother, I have yet to hear back. If she does not reply soon, I shall send mother and Miriam away to Rawlings, our country estate. She will not like it, but I will not have you insulted or our marriage threatened.”
“Thank you, but I have faced worse. You were trying to tell me that you were going to see someone after the war office without the boys knowing.” Arabella said.
“You are very perceptive wife. Indeed, while I can’t tell you everything as I would like, because Penelope’s secrets are not mine to tell. I will tell you that my brother in law Lord Kenyon was in the hands of Scotland yard when I left for Avondale. The note I received is from a friend of Marcus’ and mine a Mr. Jules Burns, we served together in India.” Tristan pushed his half eaten plate away. “Mr. Burns was badly injured in a skirmish and forced to leave military service.
“And he wishes to speak to you about Lord Kenyon?” Arabella said.
“Yes, he simply said that Marcus and I need to see him as soon as possible,” Tristan replied, “I don’t know how long the meetings shall take, but when I return we can do whatever you wish.”
“Could we go to see the menagerie at the Tower of London? The paper said it shall be closing soon, and I have never seen a lion or an elephant.” Arabella asked.
“Yes, I’d like that too, would you mind if we brought the boys as well?” Tristan asked.
“That would be delightful,” Arabella replied, giving Tristan a smile.
Tristan was leaning forward to kiss Arabella when Buttons stepped into the room and cleared his throat.
“Forgive me but there is a gentleman here to see you both.”
Tristan looked over at the small clock on the sideboard; it was just a bit past nine in the morning.
“It is a bit early for a visitor. What is the gentleman’s name?” Tristan asked.
“Yes he gave me his card, he is a Mr. Victor Waterhouse and said he know it is earlier but needs to speak to you.”
“Oh, yes Victor, please show him into the office and see if he wants tea, we will be right there.” Tristan said.
“Very good sir,” Buttons replied then spun to walk away.
Tristan shoveled in the last of his food, then patted his mouth clean. “Do you want to join me?”
“Oh, yes please. He said he would be coming to London.” Arabella downed a piece of sausage and then pushed back from the table.
Tristan held his hand out to Arabella, who took it with a shy smile. Together they walked from the breakfast room to the office, as they entered the office Victor turned to smile at them.
“There is the happy couple, you both look well and happy, obviously marriage agrees with you both,” Victor said as Tristan stepped forward to offer Victor his hand. “I’m sorry to arrive so early, but I have to go past your home on the way to my office and I wanted to see if you would be free to join me at the opera tomorrow night. My family has a box seat and I want to review the opera for my periodicals, attending the opera alone is well rather depressing.”
Tristan exchanged looks with Arabella, who nodded.
“Yes, we would be happy to join you; neither of us had ever been to the opera. Would it be alright if my sister and Marcus joined us?” Tristan asked.
“Of course, another lovely lady would make the outing even more pleasant. After the opera, I thought we could go to Vauxhall Gardens for a light repast; my family also owns a supper box there. I find it amusing to watch people walk past and listen to the music.” Victor said, giving them both a smile.
“Oh yes, that sounds wonderful. I have read about the gardens and the illuminations.” Arabella said her face beaming with delight at the thought of their upcoming outing.
“Please have a seat; I was on my way out too, but for a friend it is nothing that won’t keep.” Tristan motioned for Victor to take one of the seats before the desk.
“Just for a moment, the other matter I wanted to talk to you about is Clara’s book. She gave me the finale draft, it just needs an edit and illustrations which is why I’m here.” Victor said as he took the first empty chair before the desk.
Tristan guided Arabella into an empty chair behind the desk, then, using his foot, dragged one over for himself. “Is this about hiring us to draw illustrations for it?”
“Indeed, the work you both showed me the day before your wedding was extremely fine, and I would love to hire both of you to illustrate the book. I can pay you each two pounds per illustration and once the book is published, thirty percent of the gross sales. Your names will also be listed on the cover and inside as Illustrators.” Victor stated.
“You would pay us so much for a drawing?” Arabella asked in shock.
“Yes, I wish I could pay you more, but the book shall need at least fifty illustrations. I have compiled a list of the plants that will need illustrations, and if you are both willing to take on the task, I shall have my lawyer, oh sorry, solicitor, draw up a contract.” Victor said.
Tristan looked over at Arabella; he could see the excitement on her face. It was indeed a good opportunity for them both, and he could use the income, even if it was only a small amount. Money coming in was better than the present hemorrhaging of funds to pay off his family’s debts.
“How soon would you need them finished by?” Tristan asked.
“I would need them all finished in two months’ time, I know it is not a lot of time, but the book has to be edited first and then laid out. By the time that is finished, I will need your illustrations.” Victor stated.
“I don’t know about Tristan, but I would like to try. I already have several sketch books full of flower drawings that you could look through.” Arabella stated.
After a moment, Tristan nodded, “Send the papers for us to review. I shall do my best not to disappoint you. I was always better at drawing buildings and landscapes than plants but I will give it a try.”
“Excellent, excellent, I was hoping you would both say that.” Victor gave them both a beaming smile. “Now that you have brought up your landscapes, that is something else I want to speak to you about. On the back of some of your sketches were stories or accounts of what happened there. They were very good; some were rather gripping in fact. You also mentioned that you kept an illustrated journal, I was wondering if you would be willing to let me publish your journal entries as a set of serialized stories with the accompanying illustrations. I could pay you twenty pounds per story and five for one of the illustrations?”
“You wish to publish my journal entries?” Tristan asked in disbelief.
Victor nodded his head, “Very much, as I told you, I recently bought a publishing company and I mean to publish both books and a bi-monthly journal for both men and women. Your accounts of being a junior officer in India and what you went through are rather riveting, and accompanied by your sketches, I know they will be a great success.”
Tristan paused to think about the offer. It was very generous, and he did need the money, especially now that he had a wife to support. None of the entries were deeply personal or anything that would make him ashamed.
“Tristan, what is it? Don’t you want to do it?” Arabella asked looking over at Tristan.
“No, no, that is fine; I just had to think about it. You know, I have over a decade’s worth of stories?” Tristan replied.
Victor nodded his head, “Oh yes, it will afford me a constant supply of material to publish. In addition, I was thinking of offering some of the more popular illustrations as prints to sell. You would again be given a proportion of the proceeds.”
“Oh, Tristan, that is marvelous, isn’t it?” Arabella was pleased for Tristan. His family had never given him credit for anything that had treated him like an outcast and an imbecile. That Victor thought enough of his work to want to publish it was validation of what Arabella already knew: that Tristan was an intelligent and wonderful man.
“Yes, yes, you have a deal, Victor.” Tristan rose and, leaning over the desk, offered his hand to Victor, who rose to give it a hearty shake.
“Wonderful, just wonderful, I’ll have my solicitor draw up the contracts, and we can talk over the final details tomorrow night. And now I’d best get going.” Victor rose and grabbed his hat from off the desk. As he turned towards the door, Marcus stepped through into the office.
“Ah, there you are, Tristan, Buttons said you had a guest. It is good to see you again Victor,” Marcus said, holding out his hand to Victor, who gave it a hearty shake.
“And you. I have an offer for you, you know those stories you told me at the reception, well I’d like to publish them in my men’s journal. I’ll give you twenty pounds per story.” Victor said.
“You want to publish my stories?” Marcus asked in disbelief.
“Aye, I just spoke to Tristan and he has agreed to let me publish his journal entries in my men’s journal. Your stories are also very well rousing and amusing. I took notes on the two you told me and if you give me permission I would like to publish the first of them for next week’s journal.” Victor said.
Marcus looked at him, in confusion for a moment, then past him to Tristan, who nodded. “He’s telling the truth Marcus, twenty pounds a story.”
“You want to give me forty pounds for my stories about a drunken Sergeant, a monkey, and an elephant?” Marcus asked in amusement.
“Indeed, they were most amusing, if you say yes, I have a contract in my pocket for you and forty pounds. I’ll also take any more amusing stories you can think of.” Victor reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“Of course, I can use the blunt. I have a house now, but I’ll need to hire staff and the like.” Marcus gave Victor a smile as he handed Marcus the paper and then forty pounds.
“Wonderful, just wonderful, I’ll send a footman around tomorrow morning with the finale details for the opera and Vaux hall. And I’ll see myself out,” Victor gave Tristan and Arabella nod then stepped into the hall and disappeared from view.
“Well what do you think of that, we shall both be published authors soon? My mother shall be delighted. Come Tristan we don’t want to keep the War Office waiting,” Marcus said.
“No, you are right. I don’t know how long we shall be, but once we get back, we shall go and see the menagerie, I promise.” Tristan stood and, leaning over, brushed a kiss against Arabella’s forehead.
“Would you like me to cover over the ledgers while you are gone?” Arabella asked.
“Oh yes, that would be a great help, you know where they are hidden?” Tristan pulled a key out of his waistcoat pocket and held it out to Arabella.
“I do, and Tristan have a good day. I’ll miss you,” Arabella said, taking the key and pressing the warm metal into her hand.
Tristan nodded as he stepped back. He would miss Arabella too; they had only been married a short time but Arabella had already worked his way into his heart. But she was easy to love, good god, he was in love with Arabella. What was a man to do when he was in love with his wife after less than a month? How did he tell her without sounding like a fool.
“I’ll miss you too, and please let the boys know once I return, we shall be going to the menagerie, and Arabella, be careful. Don’t leave the house alone. I would be crushed if anything happened to you.” Tristan gave her hand a squeeze, then hurried from the office before he said something foolish like I love you.