CHAPTER FOUR
PART FOUR - Clyvedon House, Mayfair
Adam descended the stairs of his family home late the next morning; the varnished cherry red wood of the bannister smooth and warm under his hand. His stomach growled as he remembered he hadn't eaten a thing since tea yesterday afternoon, and his head was killing him. He needed a hair of the dog, immediately!
He strolled into the Morning Room, the bright fuchsia of the walls hurting his head. His Mother was obsessed with pink, and insisted that if her Lord Husband would not allow her to decorate their quarters in what he called such a 'ghastly shade,' she would be allowed to decorate the Morning Room however she saw fit. After seeing what she'd done to the place he had quite soon after regretted his decision.
Adam strolled in and sat at the dining table, pulling a plate of hot crumpets towards him and lathering one in butter. With his mouth still full, he leaned back in his chair to seek out the Housekeeper.
"Gillian! Is there any bacon?" He called out. A small but sturdy woman came bursting through from the kitchens, a large platter of sizzling bacon in her pudgy hands. The smell made his mouth water as he beamed at her, moving trays out of the way to accommodate the huge plate.
"Here you are, my little Lord," Gillian cooed, setting the platter down in front of him, pouring out a stream of steaming hot tea into a thin pink china cup. "I heard you stirring upstairs while I was doing the rounds so I made you up some nice crispy bacon, just the way you like it."
Gillian, or Mrs Crowe to everyone else, was the Head Housekeeper of Clyvedon Manor, and had been for forty two years. She had not earned the love or respect of her staff in all those years though, as she was fierce and cruel, even more so if you dared cross her. 'Ye Olde Crowe' was the secret nickname given to her by the staff of the house, for she was wicked to anyone other than her precious 'Little Lord.' The Earl and Countess and their two other sons too, of course, but Adam was the apple of her eye.
He hated how she still called him a little lord, she'd been calling him that since he was born; but as she had worked in their house for so long he had allowed it, for now. However, if she continued the ridiculous nickname after he became Earl, he would not be so tolerant.
"Oh Gilly, you are an angel!" He groaned happily, his eyes rolling back in satisfaction as he shoved two greasy rashers into his mouth at once. Mrs Crowe grinned down at him while he ate, and fussed about clearing used cups and saucers off of the long table. With a loud click of her fingers, her face suddenly twisted into a scowl as she called for more staff.
"Right you lot, get all of this cleared away for our little Lord right now, I'll have your hides for allowing him to sit in such squalor!" She slapped the bottom of a young looking scullery maid as she went past her, she could've been no older than sixteen or so. Her long, straggly, mousy brown hair had fallen over her face so she was barely visible. Adam peered at her curiously. "You girl! Go fetch him some brandy, he'll be wanting hair of the dog, off you go!" The girl sped away back into the kitchens before he could get a good look at her.
Oh how Gillian knew him! She was definitely annoying most of the time, but the woman knew what he wanted before he even knew he wanted it sometimes! The girl walked timidly over to him with a full decanter and a short glass which he took gratefully, snatching the girl's wrist before she could turn away. She gasped audibly and froze to the spot.
"Sir?" She whispered, her tiny cold hand quivering under his. He swept the hair away from her eyes, to find quite a pretty, albeit somewhat grubby face behind it. He frowned at her, his hand still clasping her thin wrist.
"What is your name, girl?" He asked. Her eyes darted around her, looking to Gillian for reassurance.
"Well, tell him girl! Show our little lord some manners!" He cringed, that bloody nickname! He'd have to put a stop to it sooner than he had anticipated, for it had truly begun to grate on him.
"The girl can speak for herself," He replied coldly, without looking at Mrs Crowe, before turning his eyes back to the young maid. "Now, what is your name?" The girl cleared her throat, looking him in the eye for a moment before lowering her eyes to the floor in fear.
"Charlotte, Sir," she mumbled back, silently hoping for the ground to swallow her whole, or at the very least for him to let her go back into the kitchens. His thumb began to stroke her wrist ever so slightly. She wasn't sure what to do, so she again looked to Mrs Crowe for instruction, who glared at her, a glare that told her to stay put and keep her mouth shut until he was done with her.
"And how long have you been working in my house, Charlotte?" She cleared her throat again.
"I came just a week ago, sir," her small voice replied. "Mrs Crowe brought me and a few others here from Kent." She was well spoken for a scullery maid, he thought. His fingers were still wrapped around her wrist, he looked at her for another moment before letting her go. She rubbed at her wrist a little before raising her eyes long enough for him to catch her, giving her a wide grin.
"How lovely," he smiled. "I'll be seeing a lot more of you then, Charlotte. Good day." The poor girl looked so confused, no one of title had ever addressed her personally before, let alone been interested in her name! She stood wide eyed before Gillian came to remove her, scolding her for walking so slowly, and back they went into the kitchens.
"Is that my eldest I hear?" Another shrill voice echoed in from the hall.
Adam's Mother, Lady Anna Cleaver, burst into the Morning room, a happy smile on her face as she pulled her son into a hug, squeezing him tightly.
"Mother, if you squeeze any harder you'll be wearing my breakfast," he said, pulling back from her. She rolled her eyes and sat down, before a heavy set woman came to fill her teacup.
Lady Anna Cleaver was forty four years old, and had been married to Adam's father, Lord Robert Cleaver, for twenty six years. Her looks had not faded as she was still very much a beauty, with pale blonde hair that matched her eldest son's, and deep, ocean blue eyes her Lord husband had become mesmerised with after barely minutes of knowing her. They were engaged the very next week for Lord Cleaver worked quickly, being the obvious choice for Anna as he was one of the richest and most dashing young men in all of London, and to Lady Cleaver, still very much was.
Anna had always desperately wanted a daughter, but it was not meant to be after birthing three bouncing baby boys, who although she believed had grown into the finest, most impressive young men, a little girl was what her heart ached for most. After a decade of marriage and three children, she had begun to make peace with the fact that a daughter was not in the stars for her, so instead she would have to ensure her sons married well, the only way to have the daughters she craved, and later hopefully, Granddaughters.
"Adam, darling, where did you run off to last night? Your Father and I were looking for you everywhere!" Adam snorted as he buttered another crumpet and devoured the entire thing.
"Father? Looking for me? Unlikely?" He retorted, his mouth still full, crumbs spraying onto the table in front of him.
"Ugh, don't be such a beast!" She scolded, wiping them away with a napkin "And yes, your Lord Father was in fact asking for you. He is eager to see if there are any updates regarding a potential wife since you had last spoken."
Now it was Adam's turn to roll his eyes. Father had really been on one lately, blithering on about him finding a wife; even threatening to pass the title to his younger brother, Archibald instead if he didn't marry someone soon! Over his dead body, he'd earned that title, was born for it. Besides, Archie was an idiot! He chewed what was left in his mouth, washing it down with a glug of tea.
"Of course that's what he wanted," he began, sticking his fork into another few rashers of bacon. "But if you must know, I have." His Mother gasped as a look of disbelief fell over her face, watching as he chewed non chalantly.
"Well I- I wasn't expecting that! But I haven't seen you with anyone, who is she?" She placed a firm hand on his arm, narrowing her eyes. "Your Father and I will have to approve, you know? It will not be some filthy bar wench or scullery maid! She must be of good standing!" Adam feigned a laugh, shrugging away from her.
"She is of good stock, Mother, I can assure you."
"Is she pretty?" She asked. "Because I will not have ugly grandchildren, Adam! Remember, you could have your pick of any woman in London!" As if anything were more important!
"Of course she is, what do you take me for?" He jeered, pushing himself up from his seat, grabbing the bottle of brandy from the table and taking a swig before turning to leave.
"Well that's good at least," his Mother replied, her eyes widening as a brilliant idea entered her head. "Everyone is going to the Ballet tonight. Will you her bring her? Please!" She pouted up at him childishly. "You can invite her family to sit with us." She smiled sweetly, leaning back a little into her seat, toying with a lace doily innocently. "I'd speak to the girl's mother and invite them myself but, it's a little difficult when I don't know who she is, darling." Adam laughed, patting her on the shoulder.
"I'll tell you about her later, then you can go and speak to her Mother or do whatever you bloody like. But I really do have to go now, I will be back in an hour or two."
"I'll be waiting!" She called out after him as he turned out into the hall.
