Like No Other

Chapter 23: Trouble at St. James's Street

                                                        Chapter 23

                                         Trouble at St. James’s Street

        

        On the third day of Caroline’s recuperation a carriage rolled in front of the house and set its lethargic inhabitants abustle. A curricle had followed closely from which a gentleman scrambled down and hurried to the carriage’s door. He was of average height and sturdy build, and his square face, although not distinguishably handsome, was pleasant in its unremarkable way. There was a somber light in his hazel eyes but the wide mouth seemed inclined to tilt at its corners. He appeared to be a gentleman well into his thirties, and judging from his drab greatcoat, the plain cut of his blue coat and his unpolished top boots, a gentleman with no fashionable inclination at all.

        Mrs Winscott bestowed him a fond smile as he helped her alight from the vehicle. A tender expression warmed his eyes as Sophie came down next, and his hand lingered a little longer in hers. “We are very much obliged to you, Mr Clayton,” she said. “I hope you’ll call on us soon? That is, after you’ve settled whatever business you have in town of course.”

        “Be sure I will, Miss Winscott,” he replied, his voice incredibly soft for a man of his bulk. He turned to Mrs Winscott and begged his leave of them.

        “But will you not take some refreshments inside, sir? I know you had very little of that luncheon we ate, and it’s a thirsty work to be an escort I daresay!”

        “Not at all, ma’am. I fear I must go now for my aunt is expecting me,” Mr Clayton informed them regrettably. The front door burst open and Miss Moore emerged from it followed by two lackeys. “Mrs Winscott! Dear Miss Sophie! At last, you’ve come home! I hope you had a comfortable journey, ma’am? I declare it’s practically sweltering today and we haven’t a drop of rain since I don’t know when — ”  Her eyes was momentarily diverted by the sight of a new face. “So you had an escort!” she exclaimed inconsequentially. 

       Mrs Winscott introduced her to the young gentleman. When Miss Moore began to talk to him about the people she knew in Somerset, Mr Clayton, too good-natured to interrupt the old lady’s reminiscences, was delayed further by them until Miss Sophie broke into their conversation, reminding him politely of his own pressing engagement. Sending her a grateful look, Mr Clayton murmured his farewell and was off. 

        “My, what a soft-spoken boy, to be sure!” Miss Moore commented. 

     They entered the house, and when Mrs Winscott inquired of her niece, the duenna’s lively countenance sobered. She informed them in anxious voice that poor Miss Caro had caught a fever four days ago, but assured them that she was now on the mend. This instantly sent the two relatives into a pucker, and rushed upstairs to Caroline’s bedchamber while she followed, her disjointed account of her charge’s illness was drowned by pounding footsteps. When they entered, a somewhat pasty looking Caroline, propped up with many pillows in her bed, met their anxious eyes. 

        “My poor niece!” cried the matron, throwing herself to the bed and giving her a motherly embrace. “Poor lamb, but you look very pale and a little thin. Now I’m very certain I’ll receive an earful scold from my dear brother this time! How are you feeling, dear?”

        “I’m getting better dear aunt so you need not worry so. Miss Moore has taken good care of me,” smiled the patient. “I’m happy you’ve returned home. It was all very quiet when there were only the two of us here. How was your mama-in-law, ma’am?”