Tea with Mrs Julius Redepenning and children

Aldridge ushered Mrs Julius Redepenning — Mia — and her three wards into his mother’s elegant sitting room. “Mission accomplished, Mama,” he said. He winked at Mia and ruffled the smallest child’s hair. “She’s actually really nice,” he whispered to the eldest, the only boy, before whisking himself out of the room.

Her Grace exchanged a twinkling smile with Mia. She’d sent Aldridge with her message for this very reason — his ability to use his charm to set people at ease. Sometimes, the awe with which people approached duchesses could be useful. At times like this, she could wish for a less elevated social position.

“Come and let me see you,” she said to the children. They obediently lined up in front of her. Good. The task of making them acceptable to Society would not be inhibited by their appearance.  Yes, their dark hair and exotic tilt to their eyes hinted at their Javanese blood, and their skin was more ivory than cream, apart from the boy, whose complexion was more golden, a sign of the time he’d spent at sea with his father. But it could be a touch of Spanish or Italian blood, gained on the right side of the blanket, that gave them their good looks, and no one would make mention of it if enough of the leaders of Society showed the way.

“You are Perdana,” she said, “and your family call you Dan.” He bowed, his eyes huge.

She addressed the older of the two girls first. “Marshanda, I believe. What a pretty name for a pretty girl.” Marsha, as they called her, dropped her lashes and curtseyed.

The younger girl was bouncing with eagerness, biting her lip as if to keep from bubbling over with words. When the duchess said, “This must be Adiranta,” little Ada beamed.

“You are a great lady,” she confided. “Ibu Mia said we must curtsey and be very polite, but we are not to be afraid because you are very nice, and the Prince man called you Mama, so I am pleased to meet you. Oh! I forgot to curtsey.” She remedied her oversight, and very well, too.

“That was a lovely curtsey,” Her Grace said, taking care not to let her amusement show on her face. The Prince man was presumably dear Aldridge, and he would be as amused at his elevation to royalty as she was.

He returned at that moment with a closed basket — the kittens from the stable mews that she had requested to keep her young guests entertained while she spoke to Mia. “I met your footman on the stairs, Mama, and relieved him of his duty.” She narrowed her eyes. He was hovering. Why was he hovering?

The children were soon settled on the hearth rug with a kitten each. Aldridge took the chair nearest to them and some wool from her tapestry basket which he was soon knotting and twisting to create them each a toy for the kittens to play with.

“He is very good with them,” Mia commented. To her credit, only a whisper of her surprise shaded her voice.

Her Grace make no answer. Aldridge had gone to considerable lengths to make sure that his irregularly conceived sons and daughters — four of them — could grow up without taint of bastardy. The duchess hoped he would marry soon and have children of his own. He would be a wonderful father.

She would say none of that to Mia. The topic for today was how they could help the irregularly conceived children of that scamp Jules Redepenning.

“It is early to think about their future, Mia,” she began, “but I can assure you of my support when the time comes. However, I understand from my friend Henry that you have a more immediate concern. Tell me about this Captain Hackett.”

By the time she had the salient facts, they had finished their tea, and Aldridge had drifted over to lean against the back of her chair, listening but saying nothing.

“I am leaving tomorrow for Hollystone Hall,” Her Grace commented, “and I understand you and the children are to join the Redepenning Christmas party at Longford Court. In the new year, though, the man may become a nuisance. Let me know if you need any pressure brought to bear.”

“David might be able to help, too, Mama,” Aldridge suggested. “If the man has one shady episode in his past, there will be others.”

The duchess nodded, pleased. “Well thought, my son. Mia, I shall drop a note to David Wakefield. You know him, I think.”

Mia nodded. “Rede’s friend, the private inquiry agent.”

At that moment, they were interrupted and the reason for Aldridge’s lingering became clear.

“What are you up to?” demanded His Grace, the Duke of Haverford, lurching into the room. “Conspiring? Planning to get rid of me, hey?”

On the hearth rug, the children reached for their kittens and then froze, like cornered mice. Aldridge, without seeming to move with purpose, was suddenly half way down the room, where he could put himself between the erratic peer and either of the two groups in the room.

His Grace balanced his weaving body on the back of a chair, peering at the children in some confusion. His rumpled stained clothes hinted at a night spent drinking, if his manner was not already clue enough. The canker sore on his nose was the only evidence of the sickness that was slowly destroying him; that, and his current state. Ten, even five years ago, he’d show almost no outward sign of over-indulgence, until he fell flat on his face and had to be carried to bed. “Aldridge,” he barked, “whose are the chee-chee brats? Yours? Eleanor, I’m on to you. You’ve been waiting, haven’t you?” He pulled himself up, a hideous simulacrum of the handsome commanding man he had always been, only the underlying viciousness left to carry him forward.

Aldridge moved to intercept his father as the man lurched closer, and the duke grabbed him by the arm. “She is betraying me, boy. Betraying you, too. She’s going to bring a cuckoo into my nest, you will see. I knew, as soon as Winshire brought that rogue home. I knew she would betray us. It was always him, you know. Never me.” He snarled over Aldridge’s shoulder at Eleanor. “Lying, cheating, bitch.”

“Now, sir,”Aldridge soothed, “you are upset. Come. I have a new shipment of brandy and I would like your expert opinion.” Before the mystified eyes of Eleanor’s guests, the duke burst into tears on his son’s shoulder and Aldridge led him out.

Her Grace sat in embarrassed silence, her considerable poise shaken not just by the outrageous accusations but by the old pain that Haverford had lived, and James had been away, too long for her to ever have a child by the man she had always loved.

Mia’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Carry on with your play, children. Lord Aldridge is looking after the poor sick man.” She dropped her voice a little. “What an excellent idea the kittens were. I wonder… Surely someone at Longford will have some. Kittens might be just the thing to give the children’s minds a cheerful direction.”

The duchess smiled at her, grateful. “You shall have all the help I can give you,” she promised, again.

This scene links my two current works in progress. It takes place after Mia returns to England in Unkept Promises and before the Duchess of Haverford goes to Hollystone Hall, for the Christmas house party that is the setting for a large part of To Win a Proper Lady. If you read the stories in Holly and Hopeful Hearts, you’ll probably also notice that it explains why the duke was not at the house party, and hints at why Aldridge arrived late.

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