Quartet

By Suzy Stewart Dubot

A quartet of historical romances are set in England and France.
THE BELLS BELOW: England 1818...Circumstances are such that Lady Minton needs a housekeeper for Minton Mansion and Eleanor Hadley needs a job — one which provides board and lodgings. Eleanor finds she has exchanged church bells for service bells in an aristocratic mansion. Her future looks bleak until a chance meeting in a lending library sparks an ember of hope. Dare a spinster dream?
TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE: How are ribbons entangled in a 19th century romance where an inheritance depends on marriage?
KEEPING YOUR HEAD: Revolutionary terror is rife in Parisian streets. To survive, an aristocratic widow and her two daughters are forced to separate. Will they ever meet again ?
MORE THAN A COUPLE OF CAMELS: England 1818...Miss Baxter is a twenty-six-year old spinster who, for some unfathomable reason, attracts the wrong type of man. Her trip to the museum sets her on an unexpected course when she enters one of its exotic rooms by mistake.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Suzy Stewart Dubot
• Release date: Aug 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463272541

Suzy Stewart Dubot

An Anglo/American who has lived in France for nearly 40 years, she began writing as soon as she retired. She moved to London in 2012 and spent more than a year there with family. The spring of 2014, she returned to France, Her laptop has never had any trouble following her.Before retiring, she worked at a variety of jobs. Some of the more interesting have been : Art and Crafts teacher, Bartender, Marketing Assistant for N° 1 World Yacht Charterers (Moorings), Beaux Arts Model, Secretary to the French Haflinger Association...With her daughters, she is a vegetarian and a supporter of animal rights! She is also an admirer of William Wilberforce.(If you should read her book 'The Viscount's Midsummer Mistress' you will see that she has devoted some paragraphs to the subject in Regency times.)PLEASE BE KIND ENOUGH TO LEAVE A REVIEW FOR ANY BOOK YOU READ (hers included).

Book preview

Quartet

Suzy Stewart Dubot

Publish at Smashwords

Copyright © Aug. 2019 Suzy Stewart Dubot

All rights reserved.

ISBN 9780463272541

DEDICATION

This is dedicated to my American mother,

Doris A. Stewart

8th November 1921—3rd February 2018

Although she already had our baby brother to care for, she graciously took in three children she’d never met and gave them a home.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all you did for us so generously!

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Once again, I have to thank my friend, Clarissa Livingston, for beta-reading my stories and putting her finger on errors or quirks. Thanks to her, these stories should read that much more smoothly.

Thank you, Clarissa

The Bells Below

Chapter 1

November 1815

Snow was beginning to fall much like icing sugar from a sieve, and although it was pretty on the parkland and gardens, it would mean more work for all the servants as temperatures dropped. This did not portend well for winter, because it was only November.

It was Eleanor’s afternoon break, and she was with Cook in the kitchen, which was, perhaps, the warmest room in the house. The wrought-iron stove was kept burning from early morning till late evening to allow for hot water and the dishes Cook prepared throughout the day. The kitchen was also the room holding the most cheer, thanks to Cook’s persistent good nature. The only advantage offered by the newly fallen snow was that it reflected bright white light into the ground floor room.

Sit you down, Mrs. Hadley, said Cook pulling out one of the bentwood chairs. "I’ve hardly seen you all day, Madam has kept you that busy."

Eleanor gave her a grateful smile as she sat and accepted the cup of tea Cook had prepared especially for her.

Here are some of my shortbreads to go with it, she said putting a plate down next to the cup and saucer.

Thank you, Mrs. Wingrove. You lift my spirits, Eleanor told her elderly friend and ally.

She wrapped her hands around the cup, more for comfort than warmth.

Eleanor Hadley was housekeeper for the Minton family.

Twenty-seven was considered young to be in charge of such a household, but circumstances had been that the Minton family had wanted someone with her qualities immediately, and Eleanor Hadley had been within their reach. She had been recommended for her honesty, dependability and hard work, and she was a spinster without dependents.

Having crossed paths with Eleanor on the odd occasion, Lady Minton had already been aware of her general appearance, which was upright but plain. Whenever she hired female staff, Lady Minton was careful not to take on anyone too appealing who might tempt her husband or sons. It had happened in another local household creating a scandal, which had been lesson enough for her. Although Lord Minton was a discreet, quiet man who kept to himself when given the choice, everyone knows that still waters run deep, and Lady Minton was not convinced she truly understood her husband. Careful vetting of a potential servant made for a serene life.

As the only child of a second marriage, Eleanor had been her father’s youngest child by some thirty years. Vicar in the village of Sarcelle, the widower had taken it into his head, at the late age of fifty-five, to remarry.

His reasoning was clear. He’d wanted a companion to accompany him in the final years of his life, and his choice had fallen upon an irreproachable, middle-aged spinster — her mother.

Eleanor’s arrival had given rise to much gossip for several years. No one had imagined that the aged couple were capable of producing any infant, and certainly not one as healthy as she had been. Her two older half-brothers, living at some distance with families of their own, had ignored her for most of her life. The age difference had been a chasm separating them.

Ironically, it had been her mother who had gone first, but the old man had still had her, his daughter, as a companion. Retired from his duties as a vicar, his small inheritance as the third son of a viscount had allowed them to live carefully, until his death. Whereupon, her brothers had inherited what little he’d had, including the cottage where they’d lived after his retirement.

Not having the means to pay her brothers rent, Eleanor had been forced to look for work from necessity; preferably a position which offered board and lodgings. The job offered by the Mintons had been a godsend — and had come, not surprisingly, through the intermediary of the village Vicar.

"The ‘drawing room’ bell was tingling on the wooden panel over the scullery door, while her brass sisters stayed smugly silent. Each bell corresponded to a room and was labelled with the name under it. When a bell rang, in case no one saw which bell, a small white marker flipped over at the same time to show which room was wanting service.

"What does she want now?" sighed Eleanor as she looked up at the service bells.

Cook shrugged saying, You’ll not know ’til you go. As fickle as the woman is, it could be anything.

The upstairs maids were seeing to fires in several rooms, and Mr. Jolly, the butler was engaged elsewhere, so being the only servant readily available, she was obliged to answer the call. Eleanor pushed her cup and saucer away from the edge of the oak table and stood. With her movement, the chair scraped back on the stone floor leaving her the space needed to smooth away any creases in her clothes.

Is my apron all right? she asked, turning to face Cook.

She wore a fresh one each day but thought it best to have someone else give an opinion. She would be going ‘above stairs’ again and had to remain impeccable.

Yes, Mrs. Hadley. It will do very well, Cook replied with a smile. I’ll make you a fresh cup of tea when you get back, she offered as consolation for an interrupted break.

Thanks, Mrs. Wingrove, Eleanor said with a weary smile.

There was a discreet little mirror next to the door, so any servant taking the stairs might have one last look at their hairdo — or cap, if they wore one.

Eleanor poked a stray strand of rebel hair under her cap, and then she pulled the wire which reset the small markers in preparation for the next call. She tugged to open the baize-covered door which served to muffle the sounds in the kitchen. A similar door at the top of the staircase finished the job, so the family above would not be incommoded by those below.

A carpeted stairway led to the fantasy world of the rich.

Chapter 2

Michael Minton was standing with his back to the fireplace in the hope of warming his buttocks. Not only were they numb from his long horse ride, but they were frozen, too, due to the drop in temperature.

Lady Minton looked at her elder son with unabashed admiration. He was a fine figure of a man at nearly six feet tall with athletic proportions. In his mother’s eyes, this was enhanced by his masculine charm and his astute handling of the family affairs. His younger brother, James, had, through no fault of his own, been second to him in everything, starting with his birth two years later. He had never been able to equal Michael in his parent’s opinion and this despite his distinguished job in the Foreign Office. The fact that he worked for a salary made his parents shudder each time they were reminded. Had he chosen to take up the cloth or military duties, he might have gained some of their esteem, but office work? They would never realise just how important his job was, because he was not allowed to speak of it in anything but general terms. The fact that he encountered Lord Liverpool, the Prime Minister, on a regular basis, was never mentioned.

A knock on the drawing room door, had Michael Minton calling to ‘come in’ in a voice which carried better than that of his mother’s. 

Eleanor entered and quietly shut the door behind her before turning to face Lady Minton and her son, with the hint of a curtsey.

Yes, my Lady, my Lord. How may I help you? Eleanor enquired.

Michael perused the housekeeper, as he did any woman who appeared younger than he. It was not the first time he’d seen her, but on other occasions it had only been at a distance or when he had been socialising with others.

Dressed in black with a white apron around her waist and a white cap covering most of her hair, there was nothing outstanding about her, with the exception that she was taller than average. She held herself erect, but she did not show the roundness he enjoyed in his women. Her features were not disagreeable, but they lacked the sparkle in her expression which would be to her advantage.

His gaze did not linger. It had taken him less than a minute to lose all interest.

Ah, Mrs. Hadley, it’s you. Just the person I wanted to see. My son and I have been discussing the family gathering which takes place here each Christmas. You will not know much about it as you came to us in February.

She paused.

Eleanor remained motionless; her hands clasped before her.

This year will see additional people present as my sister’s daughter — my niece, she added in case it was not clear of whom she was speaking, is to be married in January.

She waved a paper she was holding in her left hand, and Eleanor surmised it was a letter announcing this new development.

Her fiancé and his family have also been invited for Christmas and the New Year, she explained.

Eleanor’s heart sank. The additional work for all the staff seemed unfair when they, too, should be able to enjoy the festive season to a certain degree. Some of them had families.

I see, my Lady, Eleanor replied in a neutral tone. If you would be so good as to provide me with a list of all your guests and when you expect them, I will arrange for the extra rooms to be prepared and organise the rest with Mr. Jolly and Cook.

Good, good, Lady Minton muttered. I knew I could rely on you.

She was generous with her praise.

I’ll have it for you by the end of the week, she continued. That was all.

Yes, my Lady, Eleanor replied.

Oh, get one of the maids to take these tea things away, will you?

Lady Minton waved a hand at a silver tray laden with a tea service and cakes.

Yes, Ma’am, Eleanor acknowledged the request.

She once again gave a slight curtsey before turning and leaving as quietly as she’d come.

You’re confident that she’ll manage, Mother? Michael asked once the door was shut. She has only a little more than a month before everyone arrives.

Oh, yes, dear. She has already surprised me with her competence.

I could do with a whisky. Would you like a sherry or Madeira? he asked as he headed towards the drinks cabinet. It’s about the only way I’m ever going to feel warm again.

Chapter 3

James Minton had just left a private interview with the Prince Regent in Carlton House. The Prince was now acting on behalf of his father, King George III, who was ‘in compos mentis’ — a polite way of saying he was mad.

As a rule, James’s dealings were with Lord Liverpool, but the Prince Regent, who came under a lot of criticism for his extravagant lifestyle, felt obliged to show some interest in Britain’s handling of the war on the continent. Knowing how heavily Liverpool relied on Minton’s services, the Prince liked to remind everyone that it was he, in fact, who was ruling Britain not Liverpool. Having made that clear to Minton, he had gone on to enjoy the man’s company. To be fair, he had to agree that Minton knew his stuff. He was happy knowing that international relations were being directed by such competent men. It took the weight off his shoulders.

Having gone through all the expected motions with the Prince Regent, James headed back to his office in Whitehall to try and make up for wasted time. The Prince could be very amusing but rarely on any subject of substance. Political intricacies needed James’s full uninterrupted attention because, later in the day, he would be leaving for France. He had been asked to be present for the signing of the Treaty of Paris by Lord Castlereagh, the British foreign secretary, and one did not refuse the man.

War was indeed a game of chess which included home politics and a lot of back-stabbing. It was also a money-making machine which rendered people ruthless. Sometimes, he was tempted to resign, retire, whatever it took, to free himself of any