To Rescue a Lady

In which we meet the characters, and Miss Laura Crewe renews her acquaintance with an old friend

Author’s Note: This is chapter one of… something. Probably a novella, possibly a novel. It’s regency(ish) romance, and like all of my writing, rated PG-13 or lower. I haven’t decided if I’ll publish it here as a serial over the next few months, finish the whole thing and put it up on KU, or some combination of platforms.

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We all have our crosses to bear, and in a large or affectionate family, it is often the ladies who bear the burden of correspondence, and then the subsequent burden of retailing news of their loved ones who live far away, to their loved ones who remain part of the household.

Such was the lot of Elizabeth Crewe, Lady Wansbeck, one gray morning in January, only she did not consider it a burden. She enjoyed writing letters almost as much as receiving them, a relic from many years of separation from her husband, who, as Colonel Crewe, had left his young family safely in the care of his own father while he campaigned his way through the Peninsula in Wellington’s train.

That war was long over, and the loving couple reunited, but it was not the end of their adventures, if they may be termed so. For Colonel Crewe did not long retain that name, having succeeded to his father’s place as Viscount Wansbeck within a few years of selling out. This might have been bearable, Colonel Crewe having but a tepid affection for his tempestuous father, if the old lord’s death had not been preceded by the loss of the Colonel’s elder brother the Honourable Mr. Francis Crewe, and of the Colonel’s second son Henry, all within a few weeks of each other.

Nor did Colonel Crewe escape unscathed from his Peninsular endeavours, but more on that subject anon. For now, he was in possession of a respectable if not precisely ancient title and estate, a loving wife, an elder son and that son’s hopeful family, and a daughter who had reached the age of twenty without yet making her bow to the polite world.

That daughter was the first recipient of her mother’s news, since Lord Wansbeck preferred to forego the breakfast table in favor of meeting with his man of business or riding about the estate on days when the weather was fine.

“Oh, dear,” Lady Wansbeck said upon perusing a letter from her son’s wife. “Here is Mary, saying that little Jack is ill. A mere cold, she says she hopes, but really!- from the way she writes, one would think she positively enjoyed the prospect of a serious illness!”

Miss Laura Crewe said what was proper. She had a great affection for her nephew and niece, and was looking forward with great anticipation to the coming increase in their numbers. But it was with more duty than pleasure that she remarked, “Poor Mary! And to have the children ill at such a time! Do you think I should go to her, to be of use?” To be delighted by the prospect, while she was preparing for her first season in society, was more than can be expected of any young lady.

Lady Wansbeck pressed her lips together severely. “Mary is a very good girl, I am sure, but I see no reason why you should play nursemaid to her children. Either it is merely a cold, and I am sure Nurse is well able to see Jack and Lizzie through that, or it is more serious, and I should not like to expose you to infection.”

“Very true. But Mamma, I am sure Mary does not act so on purpose. Recall that she is of a nervous temperament, and no one could wonder at that!” Laura was too young to remember, but she had been told that Mary was the eldest of a numerous family, and now had only one surviving sister. It would be strange, Laura thought, if Mary could be sanguine about any illness in her nursery.

Lady Wansbeck sighed. “If I am angry, it is because she will no doubt insist on keeping James dancing attendance on her for the next month or more, and we had only just settled it that he should bring you to to your Aunt Gosse in town.”

That was also true, and Laura tried not to be downcast as she finished her breakfast. It was not to be hoped that Papa could bring her to town, and Mamma would never stir without him.

She must have some way of getting to town, before the season was so far advanced that she would have no hope of making any acquaintance there. For the only daughter of a viscount to pass all her life without ever visiting the metropolis- it was not to be thought of. She was already past twenty, and nearly on the shelf, and while Laura was well aware of her good fortune thus far in life, a portion of her heart yearned for a loving husband, an establishment of her own, and to be called ‘mamma’ instead of ‘Aunt Laura’ by a herd of happy children.

How to gain these people and things occupied a great deal of her thoughts, to no avail, and it was with a great sense of relief that Laura listened to Lady Wansbeck as she set aside her letter and they began to talk of the day’s tasks. It was a Saturday, and there was a great deal to be done. The laundry must be sorted in preparation for Monday, the week’s menus prepared and delivered to the cook, and Laura’s new, unfinished day dress must no longer continue in its sleeveless state. Lord and Lady Wansbeck, having come into the title so late in life, and so unexpectedly, saw no reason their daughter should be an idle creature with no skills or talents, and Laura had learned from an early age to take pride in her accomplishments- yes, all of them, even the care and making of her own clothes.

Their discussion completed, Lady Wansbeck dismissed her, remaining behind to gather up her correspondence, and Laura left the breakfast room, turned the corner, and nearly collided with a man striding down the hall. They each leaped back, his leather satchel nearly slipping from his grasp, and she treading on her hem in rather undignified fashion.

But this was no stranger come to Wansbeck Hall, and it was with real pleasure that she smiled and said, “Oh!- good morning, Mr. Lewis. How do you do?”

William Lewis, a tall, spare man with twinkling blue eyes, recovered his poise and bowed gracefully over her hand. “How do you do, Miss Crewe? It seems an age since I have seen you.”

“Three months at most,” she argued, with a brightness of speech and eye that her parents’ generation might have thought rather too forward. “You came down for quarter-day, thank goodness,” she said, with real gratitude. “Papa was in such a fever about the price of corn, thinking himself ruined, until you spoke to him.”

He disclaimed any great feat of persuasion, of course, but Laura knew better. Mr. Lewis was only a few years older than she, but had shown himself possessed of a rare talent for business, that combined with his training in the law, made him an excellent advisor to the Wansbecks and many other clients on legal and financial matters. It was he who had rescued the Wansbeck fortunes from the peril of Mr. Francis Crewe’s extravagance, and his advice to James on the matter of Mary’s fortune had ensured that all of their children, not only the eldest, would have comfortable fortunes when they came of age.

But Mr. Lewis blushed to receive compliments, and so Laura took pity on her friend and changed the subject. “You are staying with your parents?” she asked, though she was almost certain of the answer. The elder Mr. Lewis was the clergyman at Wansbeck, and a more respectable family there could not be. He and his wife were always delighted to receive a visit from their third son, and nearly as happy to send him back to his successful practice at law in town.

And Mr. Lewis answered in the affirmative. “I came down yesterday, and I shall remain until Monday, my father being no friend to Sunday travel.”

“To your mother’s delight; she must be so happy to have you at home for another day.”

“Yes, I think-”

It was at this moment that the door to the study opened and Lord Wansbeck poked his head out. “What is all this chatter?” he demanded, and only unbent slightly when the miscreants turned to face him, offering their apologies.

In this they were aided by Lady Wansbeck, who emerged from the breakfast room and bestowed a fond smile on Mr. Lewis, who she still rather thought of, in the manner of matrons everywhere, as the boisterous playmate of her children instead of the young man he had grown to be. “Dear Henry,” she said to her husband, smiling but firm. “I am sure Laura and Mr. Lewis did not mean to disturb you. Such old friends as they are- they cannot meet without reminiscing about old times.”

“Well, perhaps,” Lord Wansbeck said grumpily. “And perhaps you might defer your reminiscing for another time or place, Laura?” he said, turning a gimlet eye upon her.

“I’m sorry, Papa,” she murmured.

Laura was accustomed to her father’s temperament, and wondered what could be wrong; Papa was often put out, but rarely for no reason at all. She glanced up at Mr. Lewis, who shook his head slightly and tipped her a shadow of a wink.

Papa harrumphed, his snowy moustaches blowing hither and thither, and went back into his study. Laura hesitated, wondering if she should not inquire into business matters, and when no one said anything for a moment, she ventured to ask Mr. Lewis, “Is something amiss?”

He smiled down at her. “Nothing to do with money. Perhaps it is this weather that makes him melancholy.”

That was more than likely, and Laura allowed her thoughts to find other, more pleasant channels as their little party moved toward the door and away from the study.

Dunston was, of course, there to bestow Mr. Lewis’s hat and cane upon their owner, and the conversation turned general, with compliments sent to the elder Mr. Lewis and love to Mrs. Lewis, who was some kind of distant cousin from a cadet branch of the Wansbecks. Laura, bidding her friend goodbye, did not see the appraising look that her mother cast upon them, nor her secret smile.

End Chapter One