Two Sides Of The Same Coin Pt 04

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.

Her eldest son could be a defiant little shit at times, but she was completely taken aback by his news. Elated that he'd finally managed to find himself someone to settle down and make beautiful future heirs with of course; but this was Adam, who loved nothing more than to charm and chase the ladies, so why the sudden change of heart now? Well, she thought, 'Lady' was a generous description of most of the women her son had bedded. Robert must've said something to spring him into action, she thought, but whatever the reason, Anna was beside herself with glee!

She daydreamed for a couple of minutes before Mrs Crowe and a group of maids came to clear the table for lunch, as she left the now crowded kitchens to find her husband and tell him the good news.

After running some personal errands that morning, an hour or so later Adam returned home to put his mother and father out of their misery and divulge who the mystery girl was.

"Eleanor Pryor's daughter?" Anna practically squealed, her high pitched tone echoing throughout the study. "She was at the Silver last night, a charming girl indeed! But they only returned from Somerset yesterday, how-" Her eyes glazed over with tears as she gazed adoringly at her eldest son, "Oh darling, was it love at first sight?"

"Something like that," he shrugged. Adam rather thought his Mother might burst with excitement as she shrieked, smacking her husband on the arm.

"Oh Robert, our son is in love!"

"Alright, Anna, calm down," Lord Robert Cleaver scolded, patting her hand before standing up from the thick crimson chair of his study, walking around his dark oak desk to stand before his son, placing a large hand upon his shoulder. "Pryor you say? Peter's daughter? Aye, a good man, decent man. But I thought his daughters were all married off now?"

"Four are married, my love, Ivy is the fifth. She is indeed lovely, Robert, oh what darling children they shall have!" Robert raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, yes, Ivy. Well congratulations, my lad, this calls for a celebration, I insist we meet with her parents as soon as possible." Anna's eyes lit up.

"Yes! The Ballet tonight," she beamed, "We said we should invite them to sit with us in our box." Robert smiled in agreement, nodding as he smacked his son on the back, a gruff laugh bursting from his throat.

"A fine plan indeed, I cannot wait to meet her. Anna, love, go take Mrs Crowe with you over to the Pryor's now, ensure they receive the invitation in good time for tonight." His wife nodded back at him, and in an overjoyed cloud of pink chiffon immediately left for Pryor House with Mrs Crowe in tow to speak with Lady Pryor.

She returned home around thirty minutes or so later to demand that her son go and find the girl, for she and her maid had not long left for Covent Garden and she insisted that he should extend her invitation personally; for it would be incredibly romantic, hopefully setting the tone for the evening.

"Take a liquorice with you, Darling," she called, "You will not speak to that girl with brandy on your breath!"

Adam strolled through the square, chewing on said liquorice; the fresh, early afternoon air perking him up somewhat. The trees were full and thick with flat, bright green leaves, and beams of sunlight peered through the gaps. London really was a gorgeous place to live in the Summertime.

He came round to Covent Garden, passing the various market stalls where people sold everything from fish to French Lace, weaving through the crowds of young ladies shopping with their Mothers, Aunts, or Handmaids, fluttering their eyelashes flirtatiously and curtsying as they passed him. It was bustling, with street vendors calling out to passers by with one time bargains, big bosomed milkmaids wandering with their milk cans, selling pints for half a penny. Adam truly loved living in this city.

Ivy and her Handmaid Heidi were strolling happily through the market; having finally been allowed to escape her Morning room after a torturous few hours of smiling and polite small talk, but ultimately snubbing the several young men who had waited at her door that morning; much to her mother's chagrin.

Ivy yearned for the fresh air, and she enjoyed browsing the loud, colourful marketplace; it would help clear her head, and she loved to shop. Heidi picked up a pale olive coloured swatch of silk from a merchant's fabric stall.

"This colour would be fetching on you, Miss," she said. Ivy smiled and took it from her, feeling the material. She picked up another swatch, a lush, deep red. She held the material up to her cheek, brushing it over her skin.

"Which do you like best?" Ivy asked her Handmaid, holding the two up next to each other. Heidi narrowed her eyes, looking between the two for a moment.

"I for one think you'd look ravishing in both, my lady." Adam Cleaver. His voice made her blood run cold. He grinned at her, and then at Heidi. "Miss Pryor, just the lady I was looking for!"

Ivy froze, silent, as if she'd been relieved of all memory and had no idea how to move. Heidi looked puzzled as she smiled politely back at him, then leaned to Ivy's ear.

"Are you well, Miss?" She whispered, "That gentleman is talking to you." Ivy appeared to be in a trance, her shoulders hunched as she tried to muster the will to acknowledge him.

"Mr Cleaver," Ivy replied with little enthusiasm, putting down the silks. She wanted to turn on her heels and run as fast as she could away from him, but was stifled by the fact that they were very much in public, and most likely being watched; for wherever Adam Cleaver went there were usually a gaggle of young ladies not too far behind. Too many eyes would surely be on them for her to make a spectacle, and something told Ivy that Adam Cleaver would not take kindly to being embarrassed either. Still, she refused to look at him. "You are looking for me? Why?" He stepped closer to them and without realising, Ivy had hidden herself behind Heidi, awkwardly clinging to her as her poor Handmaid had no idea what was going on, looking between the two of them for a clue into her sudden strange behaviour.

"I wish to extend an invitation from my mother to your family to the ballet tonight, and I too of course will very much enjoy seeing you again. What luck to be in your company two nights in a row," he replied, raising his eyebrows in a knowing glance. There was no way she was going anywhere Adam Cleaver was going to be!

"Two nights?" Heidi turned her head back to whisper. Ivy frowned and very subtly shook her head, now was not the time for this conversation.

"My family and I have other plans for tonight," she replied dismissively, desperately trying to end the conversation. Heidi, still not having the faintest idea what was happening, very gently nudged her arm, clearing her throat to speak.

"Uh, Miss," she began quietly, although not quiet enough for Adam to miss it, "The Ballet, is where you are going tonight. Lady Pryor mentioned at breakfast, do you not rememb-"

Heidi could not finish her sentence before receiving a quick, sharp jab to the ribs, rendering her silent again, Ivy glowering back at her chaperone. Adam smirked gleefully, this was playing out beautifully. He looked to Ivy who remained speechless, running through a list of excuses in her head, but she came up empty.

"Excellent!" He bellowed happily, "You shall sit with us in our box."

"Oh no," Ivy gasped, the horror in her voice not at all concealed. "We do not need-"

"I insist," he interrupted, sternly. "I look forward to meeting Lord and Lady Pryor officially, we have much to talk about I rather think." Just when she thought she couldn't be any more horrified.

"What could you possibly have to talk with my parents about?" She asked, hostility sharp in her tone, her eyes now boring into him, for he was being painfully elusive. He did not oblige her though, for he was enjoying watching her squirm. Seeing her stood there, practically frantic inside made him want to laugh out loud.

There was something oddly fascinating about this girl, her arms folded tightly as her pink, pretty little lips pursed in frustration. She excited something in him that he didn't quite recognise. She was strong willed, a brat even, and completely unimpressed by him, which irked him, but he'd soon see to that. An overwhelming urge to claim her, to have power over her, to have her at his whim clouded his mind, he'd become obsessed overnight as he thought of nothing but her; melded with his Father's overbearing demands to find someone to marry and start making some heirs immediately, even if it was only still the very beginning of the season,; but Lord Robert Cleaver was not a patient man, a trait Adam himself had very much inherited from his Lord Father. He had no choice, but neither would she.

Strong willed she may very well now be, but his wife would be pleasing, gentile, and maybe most importantly of all, compliant, for Adam preferred to take control in all things. He would soon calm that wild spirit of hers, and mould her into the perfect Countess, and eventually, mother. He'd quite freely admit that he loved the chase, but it was only a matter of time before he would feel entitled to his reward, and making her his wife would be a fine reward indeed. Sure, she despised him now, but he would change that, he thought; for everyone fell for his charms eventually, as would she.

Until last night, he had quite forgotten about Ivy Pryor, but now he couldn't get her out of his mind. That fiery rage she had instilled in him, the sheer turn on of a woman who didn't immediately fall into his arms at the click of his fingers, he had to work for this one. It infuriated him, but it was also oddly refreshing.

She would grow to love him, he thought; she would love him as all good wives loved their husbands, as was their duty.

"I'll be seeing you tonight then, Miss Pryor," he said cryptically, with a wink. Ivy snatched Heidi's arm and spun her away, back towards the carriage that was waiting for them on a side road, out of sight.