The Homecoming Read Free

gone. We now have the duke’s aunt. Will she move to Mannerling, think you? Will he really let her stay here?”
    “I do not see how she can possibly stay here,” said Barry sadly. “Nothing will be the same if she goes.”
    “I cannot hide here,” said Lizzie. “I will be brave. I will go and see her.”
    Barry has turned suddenly old, she thought as she left. His round face, usually cheerful, looked wrinkled and careworn and his shoulders stooped.
    “Lizzie!” cried Miss Trumble, coming out of the house as she approached. “I would speak with you.”
    Lizzie walked forward and dropped a curtsy and said, “My lady?”
    “I am still Miss Trumble, Lizzie, and until I finish my employ here, you will address me as such.”
    Lizzie’s face brightened. “You are really to stay with us?”
    “I gave you my promise, did I not? Now, is it necessary for me to give you a jaw-me-dead over your remark to the duke?”
    “No, Miss Trumble. I am deeply ashamed. But he humiliated me.”
    “Meaning he found you in Mannerling where you had no right to be and told you to go away?”
    “Yes, but he was so contemptuous, so haughty and cold.”
    “He finds a young trespasser who looks like a schoolgirl and who is wandering about his home without an invitation. What would you do if you found someone in Brookfield House, walking about the rooms and looking at everything without a by your leave?”
    Lizzie hung her head. Miss Trumble put a hand under the girl’s chin and lifted up her face.
    Wide green eyes stared at her. Lizzie’s eyes were pure green without any trace of brown and framed with thick black lashes. That red hair of hers, damned as unfashionable, was thick and with a slight curl and shone with health.
    “Yes,” said Miss Trumble, half to herself, “you might do. But come indoors and let me arrange your hair. It is time to try out a new style.”
    “I told Barry who you really are,” said Lizzie.
    Miss Trumble paused on the threshold. “Indeed! Then go to your room, Lizzie, and look out curling tongs and pins and I will be with you quite soon.”
    Miss Trumble turned and hurried back round the side of the house. Barry was just emerging from the stable. He bowed low when he saw her.
    “Well, Barry,” said Miss Trumble, “are we still friends?”
    “You are no longer a servant, my lady.”
    “I am until I finish my work here, Barry. And as I have explained to Lizzie, until that time, Lady Letitia Revine does not exist. I am Miss Trumble and still a servant like you.”
    “I never really thought of you as a servant. But what made you stoop so low?”
    “I considered it a step up from being an unwanted maiden aunt. I enjoy teaching. It gives me a purpose in life. Lizzie must be married before I go.”
    “Miss Lizzie told me she had been rude to the duke.”
    “Very rude, Barry.” Miss Trumble sighed. “At least it might do him some good. No one is
ever
rude to Gervase. As a result, he is too wrapped up in his own consequence. He wishes to find a bride and it amuses him to invite prospects to Mannerling. Mannerling is his latest toy.”
    “He will have no difficulty, him being a great duke.”
    “No, he will not, and that will be very bad for him.”
    Barry scratched his head. “Reckon Miss Lizzie is too young for him.”
    “Oh, much too young.”
    “And yet her sisters married men older than themselves.”
    “True, but Gervase is set in his ways and arrogance. I would see Lizzie with someone nearer her own age. But he is to entertain and I have made sure that Lizzie and Lady Beverley are to be invited. I shall call on him in a few days’ time and persuade him to invite some suitable young man.”
    “So how is Lady Beverley taking the news of your status?”
    “I do not know. I have not yet spoken to her.”
    “She will not know how to go on.”
    “I think she will forget very quickly who I really am. Otherwise she might have to concern herself with the welfare of her own daughter, and also