Charming Artemis, page 13
The butler and housekeeper received them cordially and formally. They were offered the option of either retiring and resting from their journey or joining the earl and countess in the drawing room. Charlie deferred to Artemis.
“I should like to greet our hosts,” she said, not because it was necessarily the better or more proper choice but because she worried she’d lose her nerve otherwise. She was meant to be Artemis, diamond of Society, intimidated by no one and nothing.
They were led there, no matter that Charlie knew perfectly well where the drawing room was. It was a strong reminder that they were guests. On his own, he likely would have been welcomed as family.
At the drawing room door, the butler announced, “Mr. and Mrs. Charles Jonquil.”
Charlie groaned quietly, almost a sigh of disgust. Whether he objected more to being called Charles, a version of his name she knew from experience he disliked or from hearing her so intrinsically tied to him, she wasn’t certain.
Please don’t abandon me now, Charlie.
The earl, turned out in colorful and dramatic fashion as always, rose at their entrance. The countess did not, though she greeted them.
“You’ve arrived without murdering one another.” Lord Lampton eyed them both. “Perhaps Holy Harry’s been praying for a miracle.”
“Who is Holy Harry?” Artemis asked.
Lord Lampton’s expression turned to one of theatrical worry. “Has he not mentioned that he has brothers?”
She could play along. She would enjoy it, in fact. “Brothers?” She pressed a hand to her heart, settling her features in a look of surprised confusion. She turned to Charlie. “Do you have brothers?”
A bit of color touched in his cheeks. “Holy Harry is my brother Harold, though he does not particularly care for that nickname, so I wouldn’t recommend it.”
She nodded. “Any other warnings I ought to heed?”
“Don’t listen to a word Philip says.”
For that bit of cheek, his older brother gave him a shove and received one in return. There was something painfully poignant about seeing such easy familiarity between them. Though her family loved each other, they were never this at ease. At least she wasn’t. Even amongst her siblings, she kept herself safely tucked away.
She diverted her gaze, needing a moment to regain her composure. Her eyes fell on a large family portrait above the fireplace. The subjects were easy to identify. Lord Lampton, though likely at least ten years younger in the portrait and far less brightly dressed than he was now, looked too much like himself to be confused for anyone else. The dowager countess was easily recognized. The little boy with the ginger hair was utterly unmistakable.
The gentleman sitting amongst this large family drew her attention. His friendly expression and the smile in his eyes was familiar. She’d thought so when she’d been at Lampton Park for the house party a couple of years earlier. He looked a great deal like his sons. Shockingly so, in fact. Anyone who knew them would feel instantly as though they’d known him.
“Where are the children?” Charlie asked his brother. “I’ve come to see them, you realize. The rest of you aren’t terribly important.”
“Not important?” Philip eyed him with overblown shock. “How can anyone wearing a waistcoat of hand-embroidered yellow silk beneath a perfectly tailored coat of deepest purple be considered anything but absolutely crucial? I fear you must be unwell from your journey.” He looked to his wife. “Sorrel, have Dr. Scorseby sent for at once. Charlie is clearly delirious with some horrific illness.”
“You are going to be impossible while your brothers are here, aren’t you?” Lady Lampton said with a sigh.
“Not ‘impossible,’ dear. Utterly irresistible.”
She shook her head. “The children are in the nursery,” she told Charlie. “You had best go visit them, as they are likely to be better behaved than their father.”
Lord Lampton clasped a hand to his heart. “You wound me, my love. Deeply.”
Adam found the earl’s theatrics wearying. Artemis adored the dramatics. This was a brother-in-law she could get along with very well if given half a chance. He so easily brought a smile to her face even in a difficult moment like this. Her Papa had managed that also. In her mind’s eye, she began to picture her Papa as being tall, like Lord Lampton.
“Layton’s little ones are here as well,” Lady Lampton said. “Caroline, in particular, will be offended if you do not visit her straight off. Her uncle is a bad influence, you realize.”
“Which uncle?” Artemis asked, enjoying the banter.
“All of them,” the three answered in near unison.
“It seems the perfect time to look in on the children.” Charlie walked back toward her.
She reached out, fully expecting to be offered his arm. In his enthusiasm to see more of his family members, he neglected that. Only because he was eager for his family. She told herself that several times as she followed him from the room. Only as they climbed the stairs did she realize he might not have been inviting her to join him on the trek through the house.
There was no real option but to continue following. She didn’t know where in this house she would be staying. Wandering about until she either found her traveling trunk in a bedchamber or a servant to plead with was too embarrassing a prospect to entertain.
They arrived at the nursery wing, and a chorus of welcomes greeted Charlie. Little Lord Jonquil was vocal, but he was too young for much of what he said to make sense. A little boy, who must have been at least two years old, sporting a bit of red in his hair, came rushing over. Artemis remembered a younger version of him from the long-ago house party.
The most enthusiastic of greetings, though, came from Charlie’s eight-year-old niece, whom Artemis had been absolutely enchanted with during her last stay at Lampton Park. Miss Caroline Jonquil was a delightfully precocious girl with a head of golden curls and mesmerizingly blue eyes. She had all her family wrapped around her finger yet was wholly unspoiled by it.
“Uncle Charming!” She rushed to Charlie.
He knelt and held the little girl in a fierce embrace. “Oh, I’ve missed you, Caroline.”
“Uncle Flip says you do not live here anymore. He is being very silly with me.”
He sat on the floor, and she sat facing him. “Uncle Flip, you will be shocked to hear, is telling you the truth.”
She looked confused. “Where will you live if you don’t live here?”
“I am living in a house called Brier Hill in Cumberland. It is up near Scotland.” Somehow, he managed to make it sound as if he were pleased with the arrangement, though Artemis knew he was not.
“Why would you live there? Your family are all here.”
“Not all of them,” Charlie countered.
“Nearly all.”
He reached over and took his niece’s hand. “Generally, when a person marries, he or she goes to live in his or her own house.”
Caroline’s eyes pulled wide. “Did you get married?”
Had no one told the little girl? It was, Artemis supposed, not something the family was precisely celebrating.
“I did,” Charlie said. “To Miss Lancaster.” He motioned toward Artemis hovering awkwardly near the doorway. “You remember her. She visited year before last.”
Caroline shook her head. She didn’t remember. The one person in this family Artemis had been certain would remember her with fondness—they’d had several lovely interludes discussing curly hair and how to best arrange it—didn’t even remember her.
Artemis slipped a bit to the side and sat in one of the adult-sized chairs placed around the edge of the room.
“Will you walk with me by the river?” Caroline’s focus was on Charlie once more.
His lap was filled with children. Lord Kendrick and the other little boy had made their way to him quickly. Charlie had scooped up Lady Julia and was holding her too. “Of course I will, sweetheart. I’ve missed our walks along the Trent.”
This was the family life Charlie had lost. Only when held by her Papa had Artemis felt that someone wanted or needed her around.
She and Charlie had concocted a plan to pretend to be perfectly content and happy in their current arrangement, assuming it was the only way to save them from misery upon returning to the Jonquil family home. Charlie was obviously accepted back without needing the playacting. Would Artemis be accepted even with it?
Chapter Sixteen
The friendliness of their journey south had evaporated, and Charlie didn’t know why. Artemis had returned to the flighty, dramatic, feigned version of herself he’d first met in this very house. He tossed the confusing change around in his mind but couldn’t identify the variable that had so abruptly altered the equation. People, he’d discovered, were seldom as easy to analyze as numbers.
“Any self-respecting landowner simply must install a gibbet,” Artemis said to Mariposa on the second afternoon of their sojourn at Lampton Park. “No estate is complete without one.”
“And how do you feel about motes?” Mariposa could be counted on to encourage ridiculousness.
“A bit outdated but an acceptable addition if one has the space and the inclination.” Artemis turned a theatrically serious expression on Philip, who was even more in favor of oddity than Mariposa. “And one mustn’t discount the utility of possessing a dungeon.”
“Is there a dungeon at Falstone Castle?” Philip lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ve heard rumors.”
“Of course there is, my lord. How do you suppose His Grace disposes of unwanted family members?”
“Genius.” Philip shook his head with an air of realization. “I’ve seven brothers and no dungeon. An unacceptable ratio by anyone’s estimation.”
“I could deposit your youngest brother in the dungeon at Falstone.” Artemis’s offer was met with laughter and expressions of gratitude, and not just from Philip.
Into the chaos came Crispin, Catherine, and their two-year-old son. Charlie ought to have known Crispin would be arriving as well.
Layton stepped up beside the newest arrivals. “Welcome to Lampton Park, strangers.” He motioned to Charlie. “You remember Mr. Artemis Lancaster.”
Crispin grinned. “I remember the ceremony well. Charlie told Holy Harry to take himself off. Brilliant.”
Mr. Artemis Lancaster. It was clearly meant more as a jab than an actual insult, a bit of brotherly teasing, but it wasn’t particularly appreciated, especially as the room had been so delighted at the prospect of Mrs. Artemis Lancaster ridding the family of him.
Charlie reached for the only distraction he knew he could count on. “Robert has grown so much since I last saw him.” He spoke to Catherine, motioning toward their little boy. “He looks a lot like you.”
Catherine had a quiet and reserved nature but wasn’t too bashful for conversation. “He looks remarkably like a miniature I have of my father when he was a little boy.”
“Is that a comfort to you or a grief?” He glanced across the room to where Mater sat. “Stanley and Marjie’s little boy, from what I’m told, is the very image of my father as a baby. He’s even named for him. I worry that will be difficult for Mater as he grows older. She still mourns my father deeply.”
“You brothers are a comfort to her,” Catherine said.
“And a worry, no doubt.”
“I am discovering a mother never stops worrying about her children.”
Charlie didn’t want Mater worrying about him. He wanted to bring her happiness and reassurance. He wanted to ease her burdens, not multiply them as he’d done his whole life.
Philip sauntered over. “I have just been having the most illuminating conversation with our newest sister-in-law.”
Charlie froze.
“And what did Mrs. Artemis have to say?” Layton and Philip thoroughly enjoyed egging each other on.
“That our littlest brother does not have a valet.” Philip shook his head as if it were the greatest of shocks. “I am not certain how to break the news to Wilson. He might have apoplexy and die on the spot.”
Layton nodded solemnly. “I am amazed our very fashionable sister-in-law hasn’t succumbed to the horror already.”
“I daresay she’s survived greater shocks lately.” Crispin’s tone was dry as an autumn leaf.
Enjoying themselves, weren’t they? If ever there was a moment in which he needed Artemis to dedicate herself to the ruse they’d meant to enact, this was it.
“Artie,” Charlie called over to her, “I’m being told that you have barely managed to survive the shock of my appearance. I suspect you had best come defend yourself.”
She flitted over. Lud, he’d seen her walk that way before. It was such a frustrating affectation, clearly meant to convey carelessness and ennui.
As she arrived, she looked over the three of them with disapproval. “‘Barely survived’?’’ She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “You severely underestimate the enormity of my endurance.”
Not the defense he had been hoping for. But it did make his brothers laugh. And she set a hand on his arm as she laughed along with them. He wasn’t certain why she’d returned to this shallow incarnation of herself, and it wasn’t the approach to reducing scrutiny they’d agreed on, but it did the trick in the moment.
“Uncle Charlie!” He turned at the sound of his niece Alice’s voice. A blessed angel of mercy. “Come play with us.”
He looked to his brothers and wife. “I may not have a valet, but I have the very best of playmates.” He dipped a little bow. “If you will excuse me, my Alice wishes for me to join her, and I would never deny her anything she wanted.”
Alice took his hand and pulled him across the room to where nearly all the assembled grandchildren were seated on the floor. They sat beneath the enormous family portrait that hung over the fireplace, the last one painted of the family before Father’s death.
How often Charlie had sat in this very spot, looking up into his father’s still and lifeless face, trying to remember him, wishing he could talk to him one last time and ask him all the questions he had.
You promised you would always help me when I needed you.
I need you now.
Chapter Seventeen
Artemis was still on edge, but she was finding her footing at Lampton Park. They had been assigned a shared bedchamber—the one, she had been told, that was Charlie’s from his years growing up at the Park—and it was proving more awkward than any of the inns they’d stayed in.
They’d changed for the evening meal in shifts and had managed only a stilted version of a conversation in the drawing room, the dining room, and, now, amongst the family after the meal. Rose had made it known to the housekeeper that the chambermaids were not to come into the bedchamber in the morning to light the fire until Rose indicated they should. That would save them the humiliation of having all the house know that this newlywed couple were none too pleased to be sharing close quarters.
Things had gone relatively well during their afternoon interactions with the extended family. Her new sister-in-law from Spain had proven an utter delight. Lord Lampton, who had insisted she call him Philip, had joined in their absurdity with eagerness. They’d laughed and enjoyed bits of what her Papa would likely have called “silliness.” Artemis was breathing a bit more easily. She could rest on her familiar approach to such things and have some faith it would work.
Charlie didn’t seem overly dedicated to their efforts. He’d dressed a bit better for the meal than he had during the day, but his appearance was still haphazard and careless. He would give everyone the impression that he placed no importance on being with them. They would begin to wonder at his unhappiness. They would likely blame her.
“I am certain someone from the staff, perhaps even one of your brothers’ valets could be spared to help you dress for meals,” Artemis said as they made their way down the stairs.
“I thought the ‘enormity of your endurance’ could see you through the misery of having to look at me.”
That he repeated the joking comment in such a disapproving tone was . . . odd. “We were jesting.”
“Yes. I know.” Tension filled his voice.
“I found a way of being welcomed among your family. Is that not what you wanted?”
He released a tight breath. “Joining them in mocking me is not quite what I had in mind.”
“You don’t object to it coming from them, but you object to me being part of it?”
“We were meant to come here and present a picture of unity. Instead, I was a man at a mark.” They stopped a few feet from the drawing room door. “I am keeping my end of this bargain, Artemis. I need you to keep up yours.”
“Are you, though?” She couldn’t keep her voice entirely calm. “Within moments of arriving here, you were off enjoying your family and having quiet moments with them whilst I followed you around like a lost puppy. That is hardly a ‘picture of unity,’ Charles.”
“Do not call me that.”
She pushed out a frustrated growl and walked past him into the drawing room. Half the family was there already. Regardless of her frustration with the gentleman she’d been forced to marry, she would not embarrass either of them.
“Did I manage a dramatic entrance?” she asked those who had turned at her arrival. “That was my goal.”
“Not quite,” Philip said.
She dipped her head regally. “I shall try again.”
She stepped back out. Charlie was watching her from the very spot she’d left him a moment ago. She would not allow him to make her doubt her ability to survive this. A moment to catch her breath and she spun once more. She glided back into the drawing room and swept both arms in a grand gesture, ending in a pose worthy of the London stage.
Philip gave her a silent bit of applause. Many of the others laughed; the rest smiled genuinely. That was key to this family, she was discovering. They liked to laugh and share light moments. She would remember that.
