The Brynthwaite Boys - Season One - Part Three Page 19

  “Lady Elizabeth has once again requested my presence at her aunt’s wedding,” he informed her, holding up the wadded paper in his hand.

  “You told her no two weeks ago. And ten days ago and almost every day this past week.” The tightness around Flossie’s lips that any mention of Lady E. inspired these days returned.

  “I did.” Jason nodded. “’No’ is apparently not a word found in Lady E.’s dictionary.”

  Flossie hummed in disapproval, then turned her attention to Samuel at the far end of the desk. “These are the table runners Dora was looking for,” she said. “If you could let her know I retrieved them.”

  “I believe that Dora is in the dining room,” Samuel replied with what Jason was sure he thought was a magnanimous smile. “I’m certain it would be more efficient if you informed her yourself, Miss Flossie.”

  Jason clutched his hand around Lady E.’s note and rolled his eyes. That rivalry would be the death of him, or would have been if he didn’t plan to end it once and for all.

  He was spared the pain of having to confront the issue right then and there as a boy with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder pushed open the hotel’s front door and scurried across the lobby.

  “Telegram,” the boy said, holding up an envelope.

  The suddenness of the boy’s arrival and the excitement in his eyes cut through the mundane troubles of the hotel and hit Jason in the gut. “Is it word from Kendal?” He asked as Flossie took the envelope from the boy.

  She fished in her pocket for a coin to pay the boy, and as he rushed back out of the hotel, Flossie opened the envelope.

  “No,” she sighed, sending him an apologetic look. “Nothing from Kendal. Matty’s trial isn’t supposed to start until noon at any rate.”

  Jason tried to hide his disappointment and his anxiety behind a curious frown. “Then what is it?”

  Flossie’s eyes darted across the page, then she lowered the note and raised an eyebrow. “It’s from my sister, Betsy.”

  “Oh. Betsy.” If Jason ever met this errant sister in person, he didn’t know if he would pummel her for putting Flossie through so much unnecessary misery for her own selfish motives, or if he would hug her and pay her an annual stipend for being the catalyst that landed Flossie in his bed.

  “She’s given up spinning stories of woe and devastation, at least,” Flossie reported with a sigh. She folded the telegram and thrust it into her pocket, then took a few steps toward the stairs. “Now she’s just asking flat-out why I stopped sending her money.”

  “Your parents are still receiving their bit, aren’t they?” Jason asked.

  “Of course, but through an intermediary.” Flossie headed on to the stairs, starting to the second floor to finish whatever last-minute task she’d set for herself before the two of them departed for the seaside. “Betsy won’t see a single ha’penny from me again.”

  Jason shared one final look of understanding with her, then turned back to Samuel.

  Samuel was not quick enough to hide his look of extreme disgust as he watched Flossie disappear down one of the second floor halls. Jason cleared his throat, and the worm of a man jumped.

  “You will take those linens to Dora as Miss Stowe asked you to,” he informed the man.

  “Yes, sir,” Samuel grumbled.

  “And then you will come see me in my office.”

  The man’s thin throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Sir?”

  “You heard me.”

  Jason left him to figure out the cryptic message, and strode on into his office. He tossed Lady E.’s summons into the rubbish bin as he approached his desk, then sank into his leather chair with a weary sign. It took him a few moments of squirming to find the right position that would be both comfortable and authoritarian for when Samuel slunk his way back into the room.

  As he waited, he stared at the crumpled message in the bin. Two weeks. An entire fortnight had gone by since Lady E. made her ridiculous proposal. The entire thing was absurd in the extreme. A marriage in triptych, with wealth and position on one side, love and family on the other, and he and Flossie caught perilously between. Jason had no doubt that Lady E. would prove no impediment to continued relations between him and Flossie. As far as he was concerned, he and Flossie had fallen into bed together, and in bed together they would stay until he was too old and decrepit even for his rebellious member to lift more than a centimeter in remembrance. It was all the rest of it—the social obligations, the public face of things, the title, the legacy, and above all the power—that gave him pause.

  He could have it all…and Lady E. issuing demands, like the one sitting in the rubbish bin, in perpetuity.

  “You, uh, wanted to see me, sir?” Samuel appeared in the door, shuffling his feet and clearing his throat.

  Well, if he couldn’t control Lady E., or even decide what to do about her offer, at least he could keep his own staff in line.

  “Yes,” he said, sitting straight and steepling his fingers as his elbows rested on his desk’s blotter. “Come in. Shut the door behind you.”

  Samuel gulped and did as he was instructed. The color drained from the man’s face, as well it should. Everyone at the hotel knew by now that Jason only ever shut the door to his office if whatever was going on inside was serious in the extreme.

  “Sit.” Jason nodded to the chairs in front of his desk.

  Samuel inched his way to the closest chair on legs that looked as though they might not support him for long. “I can explain, sir,” he began. “It wasn’t meant to be disrespectful at all. I was just—”

  “Miss Stowe and I are going away for a long weekend,” Jason stopped him. He had no interest in listening to the man justify his incivility. “The hotel will be under your charge while we are gone.”

  “Sir?” Samuel nearly choked on his own spit. “Me?”

  Jason’s expression didn’t budge from its dark frown. “Yes,” he said. “And when we return, you will be replaced.”

  This time, Samuel choked in actuality, sputtering and red-faced. “I’m sorry, sir. It was…I was stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything. You’re right. What’s your business is your business and no one else’s. It will never happen again. Only, I need this job, you see, sir. I’ve got…I’ve got debts, you see, and parents back home. I’ve got—”

  “I would like to relocate you to one of my hotels in London,” Jason interrupted a second time. He was enjoying yanking Samuel’s chain far too much, but God help him, the little toad deserved it.

  “London, sir?” Samuel’s voice had risen an octave and taken on the quality of a ferret being beaten with a brick.

  Jason let out a breath and lowered his arms to lay his hands on the desk. It said nothing about his level of compassion and humanity that the rebellious part of him was delighted with the power of tormenting someone like Samuel. In fact, it made him more than a little despicable to be so chuffed by it, and Flossie would scold him soundly if she knew.

  Flossie scolding him. Perhaps the ties could make another appearance. He cleared his throat. It was better not to think of that either.

  “I don’t like you,” he told Samuel straight-out. “But you have risen to the challenges that the hotel has presented you with. You keep your business organized and your work is thorough. I believe you have a future in business, but seeing as I can’t stand the sight of you and as your behavior toward Flossie has been reprehensible, I am offering you one of two choices.”

  Samuel swallowed again, tugging at his collar. “And they are?”

  “You take a position as junior concierge at either The Royal Arms or The Lion’s Mark, both in London.”

  “Or?”

  Jason met his question with a humorless smile. “Or you will be fired and sent on your way without a reference, never again to find employment in an establishment owned by me or any of my extensive contacts. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Samuel answered, solemn as a monk. “And I thank you for the opportunity.�
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  “As you should.” Jason pushed his chair back and stood. “Now. Assemble the staff in the dining room. I should like to have a word with them before I leave for my holiday.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Samuel rose, looking more than a little sick, and waited for Jason to come around the desk and precede him to the door. Jason sucked in a breath of satisfaction as he pulled open the door and gestured for Samuel to go first. There was nothing that gave a man quite as much of a feeling of accomplishment as taking care of a major problem in the life of a woman he loved…and securing a deal for his business enterprise at the same time.

  The word spread that Jason had asked to see his staff in the dining room. By the time Jason strode in, feeling particularly pleased with himself, the last of the hotel guests were finishing with their breakfast. He greeted them with a polite smile and a nod, making a minute’s worth of conversation before shooing them on their way.

  “What’s all this about?” Flossie asked as she joined him near the front of the room. “You aren’t going to go all bombastic and anoint me Empress of India now, are you?”

  The tension of his meeting with Samuel snapped, and he burst into a grin. “I might at that.”

  She gave him a wary look and went to join the others, who stood amongst the tables looking as though he might call down lightning upon them. After the last speech he gave, he understood completely what would make them think that. Perhaps he should incorporate weekly meetings into his running of the hotel from then on out to keep them all on their toes. Then again, that wouldn’t be his responsibility for much longer.

  “I suppose you would like to know why I have called you all in here today,” he began.

  He was greeted by a chorus of curiosity. Even Flossie lifted her eyebrows and tilted her head to the side. Perhaps he should have consulted her about his decisions first. But then, it was still his hotel. And surprising her was thrilling.

  He clasped his hands behind his back, careful not to stretch the fabric of his coat too tight. “To answer your question, I am leaving for a four-day holiday. Samuel will be in charge during that time. When I return, there will be some changes at The Dragon’s Head.”

  The murmurs of curiosity took on a panicked note. More than a few of the faces that stared back at him were anxious.

  “First off, when I return, Samuel will be transferring to one of my London hotels.”

  All eyes shifted to Samuel, who’s face glowed red with the recognition, not all of it proud. Jason would leave it to the gossips to figure out why he was being moved. Flossie, at least, seemed more than a little pleased with the announcement. She couldn’t hide the flash of victory in her eyes, though she did a fair job of keeping her smile down to a pleasant upturn of her lips.

  “That being said,” Jason went on, “any other member of staff who would like the opportunity to move on to a larger hotel in a more metropolitan location will be at perfect liberty to ask me for a transfer as well. As you know, there are three hotels in London, one in Birmingham, one in Manchester, and soon, I suspect, hotels in York and Winchester.”

  The news was received well. The maids began whispering to each other, the porters got stars in their eyes, and even some of the lowliest kitchen staff puffed their chests with hope. And why not? Jason had risen from less than nothing, so why shouldn’t the men and women he employed be given the chance to rise as well?

  As long as they kept their mouths shut.

  Jason cleared his throat to regain attention, and went on. “You are, of course, welcome to stay here, and also to recommend qualified friends to fill the vacancies The Dragon’s Head may have. I expect we’ll be seeing many new faces inside of these walls soon.” He punctuated the statement with a smile.

  “One further change in staff,” he went on. This was the one he was going to catch hell for. He gestured for Flossie to step forward and join him in front of the others.

  Flossie blanched, her brow knitting and her mouth pressing into a tight line. She moved forward slowly, and Jason could tell by the color that came to her cheeks that she would rather cross her arms, tap her foot, and glare at him in front of everyone, as like as not.

  “Miss Stowe will no longer be head maid,” he announced. Better to get it out as quickly as possible before she thrashed him. “She will officially take on the title of Hotel Manager.”

  A few gasps of surprise and delight came from the maids who counted themselves as Flossie’s friends…or at least her greatest admirers.

  “Hotel Manager?” Flossie asked, as close to incredulous as he figured she could be in front of the entire assembled staff.

  “Yes.” He spoke loud enough to be heard by all. “In acknowledgement of the role you already fill at the hotel, and in anticipation of the greater authority you may need to take on as the York and Winchester hotels need attention.”

  And if Lady E. demanded his presence in London, should certain decisions end up being made. He wasn’t any more decided on that matter than he figured Flossie was, but it was better to line his ducks in a row now instead of raising suspicions if he aligned them later.

  “You should have talked to me about this before,” Flossie said, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

  “Would you have turned the position down?” he asked, brow raised, breath suspended.

  She crossed her arms in earnest now, biting the side of her lip. “No, I would not. But you still should have talked to me about it before.”

  Relief poured over him. He blinked with mock incredulousness. “Where is the fun in that? I have to keep you on your toes somehow.”

  “Oh, I have a feeling you will be keeping me on my toes frequently,” she fired back. “Just be ready to receive a few surprises yourself.”

  Dear God in bloody heaven above, he loved her. If he wasn’t careful, the whole world would see it. He cleared his throat and turned back to his staff, Flossie by his side.

  “That is all for now. Samuel will start a list of those who wish to speak to me about transferring. He will also put together information on each of the hotels in my company and the cities where they are located. Now, go back to work. And don’t bring the whole place crashing down around your ears while I am gone.”

  “Yes, Mr. Throckmorton,” the staff replied.

  Jason nodded one more time, then turned to leave, touching Flossie’s arm to signal she should come with him.

  “Quick,” he said. “We’ll escape while they’re all excited and think I’m benevolent. It will confuse the lot of them.”

  Flossie laughed, though Jason had the feeling she tried not to. He really would have to do something to make his insanity up to her one day. The fact that she was willing to put up with it at all made her a verified saint.

  Jason fetched their suitcases from the bottom of the stairs where he’d left then, then was forced to wait for another ten minutes while Flossie made a last mad dash through the hotel to make sure than all of her lingering projects were taken care of. Once she joined him at the door, her brand new traveling coat and hat making her look every bit the picture of an independent young woman, she took his arm and the two of them beat a speedy retreat through the front door.

  They made it no further than the front garden before a maid in Huntingdon Hall uniform came charging up the path toward them.

  “If you please, Mr. Throckmorton,” she said, all in a hurry, clutching her starched cap to her head. “Lady Elizabeth sent this for you.”

  “Oh dear,” Flossie sighed.

  Jason set down the suitcases and took the note that the maid offered. Once again, it was written in Lady E.’s fine hand, on her rose-scented stationary.

  “Come to the Hall now. I refuse to be humiliated by your absence.”

  Jason took a breath. He refolded the note and stuffed it into his pocket. “More of the same,” he informed Flossie. To the maid, he said, “Please inform Lady Elizabeth that Miss Stowe and I have departed for our holiday. Thank her for the invitation, but I must dec
line.”

  The maid looked as though he had told her to go chop Lady E.’s hair off as she slept. “Oh, my lady will not be happy with that.”

  “She will not be happy with a lot of things if she wishes to pursue her game. You can tell her I said that,” he added.

  Without waiting for the maid’s reply, Jason bent over and picked up the suitcases once more. He held out his arm for Flossie to take. With a satisfied smile, she looped her arm through his, and the two of them continued forward.

  Alexandra

  She’d tried everything she could possibly think of. Appealing to Uncle Gerald and explaining how efficient it would be to have a trained doctor in the house had been futile. Her uncle wouldn’t budge from his position regarding what a woman should do with her life. Appealing to Elizabeth to find some way to influence her father was a waste of time. Elizabeth was too involved in her own mysterious pursuit of Jason Throckmorton. Even cozying up to Anthony Fretwell and explaining her concerns over tea in the garden had done nothing more than convincing Anthony to declare that she was a gem and it would be a delight to have her living in their house.

  The only sliver of hope that Alex had managed to extract out of anyone was her mother’s exasperated promise that she would give Alex six months to settle her affairs in Cumbria and to assist Marshall in finding another physician for the hospital.

  Six months. In half a year, her life would be truly over.

  Part of her felt the urge to fight on, to use those months to find a way to get around her mother’s dictates. Six months was surely enough to talk sense into Uncle Gerald. Perhaps after six months Elizabeth would have tired of her vain pursuit of a man who was desperately in love with another, and then she would lend that energy to Alex’s cause.

  “Where is that wretched man?” Elizabeth huffed as she marched into the garden where Alex was twisting over her thoughts.