Celia bit her lip. The pony cart swung in front of the house and came to a halt. Copthorne, his normal butler’s impassivity broken by the sight of his old mistress in so lowly a vehicle, called out the footmen to assist her.
‘I am not a piece of furniture,’ announced Lady Mardham, eyeing the footmen as they approached. They were circumspect in their aid, and as soon as she had dispensed with them, one went to help Miss Mardham. She followed her grandmother into the hall.
‘No need to announce me, Copthorne, nor direct me.’ Her ladyship was in control. ‘I can hear where the gentlemen are, perfectly clearly.’ With which she lifted her head and strode imperiously towards the library, her stick rapping upon the floor. Copthorne bustled to open the door for her. Unannounced she might be, but her arrival stopped the argument in its tracks. The three gentlemen turned their heads and stared at her.
‘Good morning, gentlemen. Do not let me stop you. I am sure there are parts of Gloucestershire as yet unaware of your disagreement.’ Her tone was acerbic.
She stepped further into the room. They rose automatically, and Lord Levedale, the first to make a recover, pulled forward a high-backed chair.
‘Good morning, ma’am.’
‘Hmm. I do not consider having to leave the comfort of my own home to sort out foolishness a good morning. However, one patently cannot leave a sensible decision to mere men.’ She conveniently forgot her daughter-in-law’s part in the mess. Her basilisk gaze alighted on Lord Curborough as she sat down. ‘And among “mere men” few are more “mere” than you, Curborough. I can only say that if Levedale took after you and not after his mother, I would not countenance my granddaughter marrying him.’
‘Mama, this is …’
‘Be quiet, Mardham. I thought I had only brought one ninny into the world, but it seems I was wrong. Your only daughter receives an offer from an unimpeachable young man, and you cast her happiness at nought.’
‘Mama, you do not understand the complexity. Lord Curborough has disclosed the depths of his family’s financial embarrassment and …’
‘He has, has he?’ She turned on the earl. ‘You really are a most unpleasant specimen. I do not wish to view you any longer. Leave the room.’ Curborough blinked at her. He was certainly not used to being treated like a schoolboy. ‘Leave the room, sir. I wish to speak to Mardham and Levedale only.’
Lord Mardham made apologetic noises in his throat, but did nothing. Reluctantly, Curborough withdrew, and Lady Mardham pursed her lips and settled herself more comfortably in her chair.
‘You do not understand, Mama.’
‘Poppycock. I understand the terms of the Will very well.’ Mardham opened his mouth to speak but she raised a hand to halt him. ‘Yes, I know the rules also. But the situation is simple. The only reason you have refused Levedale is that he has not got the required capital, correct?’
‘“Required capital”?’ Lord Levedale frowned, confused, and looked from one to the other, but Lady Mardham ignored his interjection.
‘If he has five thousand in Funds, the stipulation is fulfilled. Levedale, what is your income?’
‘I count on a little over five thousand pounds a year, ma’am, from my estate in Devon, and I have some three thousand already put by, in Funds. It is not much, but my lifestyle is not exp—’
‘So you need a minimum of an additional two thousand. Well, I can have my man of business advance you three thousand and then there is no problem. Mardham can give his permission for you to marry Celia, and can rejoice in the fact that she, rather than her cousin, inherits the bequest.’
Lord Levedale still did not understand.
‘You cannot give me three thousand pounds, ma’am.’
‘I can do what I like, young man, and you will say “thank you”, nicely, and make my granddaughter very happy.’
‘But—’
‘”But” nothing. I can do what I like with my money. I am nigh on eighty, and it won’t be long before what I have will be divided between my grandchildren anyway, and the majority to the girls. This is just pre-emptive. The problem is solved. Mardham, you give your permission, that’s it, nod wisely, and Levedale, tell your father to go home, and then find Celia. I won’t tell you what to say or do. I think it is fairly obvious.’
‘Yes ma’am. And thank you.’ He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
‘Hmmm, keep that sort of thing for my granddaughter. Off with you.’
*
Lord Curborough was pacing outside like an expectant father. He looked up as his son came out of the library.
‘Well?’
‘Very, thank you, sir.’
‘Do not be facetious, Levedale.’
‘After your actions today, I shall be as I like. You have flaunted our pitiable situation in front of others as if it were a badge of honour, and why? To try and ensure that I do your bidding. I will not do so.’
‘Damn it, sir, you turn not a hair whilst telling me you would ruin us? I declare I ought to turn you off without a penny.’
Lord Levedale achieved what in a less agreeable man would count as a derisive sneer.
‘Firstly, our ruin has been achieved without any interference by myself, and secondly, this whole unfortunate situation appears to be founded upon the fact that you no longer possess a penny, with or without which to turn me off.’
‘You are insolent and disobedient, Levedale, putting your own wishes above the needs of the family.’
‘And squandering a healthy inheritance was with “the needs of the family” to the fore, was it, Father?’
‘I forbid you to enter my house again until you have come to your senses. All I asked was that you marry well.’
‘Miss Mardham’s lineage is unimpeachable. What you mean was that you demanded that I marry money, which is not the same thing, sir.’
‘I as good as promised Sir William Burton that you would offer for his daughter.’
‘I would not have offered for Miss Burton were she the last girl in the world, and as for crossing your threshold, I do not care if I do not do so ever again, and if our circumstances force its sale that will be the case. However, if I am in a position at any time to salvage house and land, I shall do so, upon the condition that you remove to the Dower House and hand over the finances to me.’
‘You would have me your pensioner.’
‘If necessary, yes. Now, I have more important matters to attend to.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I am going to tell Miss Mardham that her father has agreed to our betrothal. Good day to you, sir.’ Levedale did not wait to hear what his sire’s reaction to this might be, but caught the attention of Copthorne. ‘Where will I find Miss Mardham?’
‘In the small parlour, my lord,’ answered the butler, with an encouraging smile which, as he later explained to the housekeeper, was a lapse, but one in exceptional circumstances.
Lord Levedale did not quite run to this room, but his steps were urgent. He opened the door, and found Celia alone, gazing out into the garden, but clearly not ‘seeing’ anything outside her own misery, for she still dared not hope. She turned, and he could see her cheeks were damp.
‘You know, my love, were it not for the fact that I have just offered for you and been accepted, I think I would offer for your grandmother, because I am half in love with her after the last five minutes.’
He was smiling, his eyes alive with joy and something more.
‘Papa changed his mind?’
‘He did not get much option.’
‘Grandmama can be—’
‘Unstoppable? Indeed she can, for which you and I, my beloved Celia, must be eternally grateful.’
‘But how?’ Celia gazed at him, still more confused than delighted. He noticed how some of her eyelashes had matted together where she had shed tears, how one brow arched very slightly more than the other, and for a moment he could not speak, because he was overcome with the intense delight of realising that the future w
as one in which he would see the little details of her every day.
‘Apparently I had to possess five thousand pounds in the Funds in order to be “acceptable” and fulfil some stipulation for an inheritance. Your Grandmother is writing me a draft upon her bank for three thousand, more than I actually require, which means that my previously rejected offer is now accepted, and I may now pay you my addresses. I have, by the by, also had a very frank exchange of views with my far from esteemed parent, which means that you and I, my darling, will not be making bride visits to Silvertons. In fact, I doubt very much if you will ever get to set it to rights, since it is highly likely the bank will foreclose upon it. Father said I had “ruined” the family but …’
‘Did Papa disclose my inheritance to you? The amount, I mean.’
‘No, for it is immaterial to m—’
‘I will inherit thirty thousand pounds.’ She enunciated the figure slowly.
‘Thirty thousand …’ repeated Lord Levedale as slowly, before letting out a crack of laughter. ‘Oh my Lord! If only he had known!’ He took her hands, and smiled down at her. Celia smiled back. His voice trembled very slightly, and it was not with merriment. ‘I want you to be my wife because I adore you. You know that.’
‘Yes, I know it.’
He let go of one of her hands and slipped an arm about her waist, pulling her closer still, then bent his head and kissed her, firmly, deliberately, a kiss founded in his right to kiss her, not in nervous supplication. Celia made a small sound, and reached up her free hand to touch his cheek. For a few minutes they gave themselves up to the intoxication of mutual desire, and when they parted, just a little, each felt shaken. Celia blushed, but he shook his head at that.
‘We are betrothed, and very soon you will be my lawful wedded wife.’ He lifted her into his arms, and carried her to the sofa where, most reprehensibly even for the newly betrothed, he sat with her upon his knee.
‘I never dreamed this would happen, that I would fall in love, nor even more that the man I loved should love me,’ whispered Celia, leaning her cheek against his shoulder. ‘I am sorry if it has made you break with Lord Curborough.’
‘I am not, unfilial as it sounds. Besides, he will come round when he finds out that, whilst not an heiress in the same league as Miss Burton, you have the advantage of inheriting now, not at some distant future. He will be coming cap in hand, you can wager upon it, but I would rather deal with the bank and redeem the mortgages. It would be nice to restore the house, but logically, other than vital repairs to the fabric, it would be better to get back the land and its income. I fear, my love, that when you see the ancestral home, you will be horrified, for it has had no lady to oversee its care since my Mother died, and for some years before that her ill-health meant that, like her, everything “faded”.’
‘I would live in a cave, if it were with you,’ she said, simply.
‘It is not that outmoded.’ He laughed, and bade her lift her head from his shoulder and look at him. ‘I do not live a life in the social whirl, and have never sought to do so. I would be happy in the little Devon property, but the Curboroughs have had a house on the ground upon which Silvertons stands since they obtained the barony in the fifteenth century, and part of me would regret letting it go. I cannot offer you riches or a grand mansion, just a competence and the prospect of a tired house and estate.’
‘We will have each other. There is nothing more to say.’ Celia sighed.
‘Oh yes there is.’ His lips twitched.
‘What?’
‘Bless thine inheritance.’
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Author’s Note
Celia Mardham’s disability is not exaggerated. I sought information from a very experienced orthopaedic surgeon who is also an historian, so that the details of prognosis, treatment and long-term consequences were accurate. Until the Thomas Splint was introduced in 1916, during the First World War, 80% of those who suffered a broken femur died as a result. Interestingly, Dr Hugh Owen Thomas, the inventor of the splint, came from three generations of bone-setters, who were neither qualified physicians nor surgeons, but proficient in their narrow field. Invented in 1875, it remained fairly unknown until introduced by his nephew, the orthopaedic surgeon Sir Robert Jones, in 1916 and was widely used from 1917, saving thousands of lives. It also meant that the shortening of the leg, and thus the limp, was much reduced.
The Thomas splint is still in use, slightly modified and in modern materials, to this day.
About the author
Sophia Holloway describes herself as a ‘wordsmith’ who is only really happy when writing. She read Modern History at Oxford and her factual book on the Royal Marines in the First World War, From Trench and Turret, was published in 2006. Among her published fiction is The Devil You Know. She also writes mediaeval murder mysteries under another pen name.
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