My Lord Tremaine

by Oliver, Marina

  Elinor sighed. There was nothing she could do.

  'Yes, and thank you for telling me.'

  *

  Paul was surprised into a laugh.

  'I assure you I'm no ghost!'

  Mr Aylesford surged from his chair and came round the desk to clasp Paul's hands. Then he frowned, lifted them closer and inspected them closely.

  'You've been doing some hard work! But what am I thinking of, my lord! Do, pray, sit down. And this calls for a glass of Madeira.'

  He thrust Paul into a chair, then bustled across to a side table and came back with two glasses, handing one to Paul and pulling another chair forward for himself.

  'Your very good health!'

  Paul drank, thankful he was not being plied with brandy. Not that he'd tasted any of the cargo he'd helped to smuggle, but he would feel guilty if he drank any, suspecting that most of the brandy here in Devon had been smuggled.

  'You know me?' he asked.

  'Know you? Of course I do.'

  'That is more than I know of myself. I think my name is Tremaine, but I have no other knowledge. I sustained a blow to the head and lost my memory, you see.'

  'When was this, my lord? Oh, but I can perhaps give you some information! Your name is Edmund Tremaine, you are a Viscount, and your home is Tremaine Court, a dozen miles inland from Plymouth.'

  'Edmund? Then that explains this ring.' He showed it to the lawyer. 'I thought one of the initials might be an E, but it did not help my memory. It was all I had, the only means I have of possibly identifying myself.'

  'But what happened? Was it at Waterloo?'

  'Yes, and I was saved, by the greatest good fortune, from being tossed into a burial pit when the man helping to bury the dead saw I was still breathing. There was nothing to indicate even whether I was French or British. I speak fluent French, for my grandmother was French, as you may know, so for many months, while this good man and his family gave me shelter, I spoke French. It was only when some travellers spoke to me in English and mentioned Devon that I became convinced this was my home. I have had the occasional flash of memory returning. That is how I know about my grandmother.'

  'Your hands? And how did you reach England? If I may say so you do not look affluent enough to pay for such a journey.'

  'I'm not!' He turned out his pockets, showing a couple of coins. 'Here you see my entire fortune. I worked on Gervaas' farm for some months, then determined to work my way home. He was the man who saved me from being buried alive. I had to walk and the final part of the journey was accomplished with the help of some smugglers, but I beg you will forget that!'

  'Well, that is something we can remedy at once! I will take you to your family's lawyer when we have drunk another glass of Madeira. He is only a short distance away. But tell me more. This man Gervaas, was he French?'

  'A Fleming, he lived near the battlefield, and earned some money helping to bury the dead.' He shuddered. 'He said he would never forget the horror of it, men and horses piled high. I went to look at the ground some time later, and am thankful I never saw it as he did.'

  He told Mr Aylesford of his experiences. Some more snippets of memory were crowding in on him, and he was thankful when the attorney stood up and said it was time to set about restoring him to his rightful place.

  *

  When Elinor took Jane's breakfast tray into her room she found her sister clutching a letter.

  'My dear, what is it? Not bad news?'

  Jane shook her head and held the letter out to Elinor.

  'Read it. I can't possibly drive all the way to Plymouth, the jolting even in William's chaise makes me ill! It's so badly sprung.'

  Elinor was reading the letter.

  'How odd! Mr Bellamy wants you to visit his office, but he doesn't say why. Why can he not drive to the Court? He does whenever he wishes to consult with William.'

  'Please, will you go for me?'

  'Of course, but William will never permit me to use his chaise, and it's raining again, I can't ride all that way.'

  'Jonah has some errands in Plymouth. He can take you in the curricle. You won't get wet.'

  Elinor went to put on her warmest gown and her pelisse, and added a shawl to wrap round her. There had been no summer this year, and now, in June, it was still as cold as in April. Two hours later she was sitting in Mr Bellamy's waiting room while he dealt with another client.

  At last the client left, and Mr Bellamy came out to greet her.

  'Miss Elinor? How good to see you. I hope you are well? Is your sister with you?'

  'No sir. She is, as you are aware, increasing, and feeling very delicate.'

  'Ah yes.' Mr Bellamy, the father of a large family, nodded understandingly. 'My dear wife was always the same. Well, I know you are in your sister's confidence, so I can deal with you. It is a rather odd affair.'

  He paused, and Elinor looked enquiringly at him.

  'You can trust me, sir.'

  'Of course. Now, let us go into my private office.'

  He led the way, ushered Elinor to a chair facing his desk, and fetched a small packet from one of the drawers.

  'Here,' he said, passing the packet to Elinor. 'Open it, please.'

  She did so, and found a small miniature portrait of her sister, done when she was about sixteen years old. She glanced at Mr Bellamy, frowning.

  'How did this come into your hands, sir?'

  'It was pure chance. A certain gentleman bought a small writing desk which was being sold at auction. It was not one of yours, but he found this at the back of one of the drawers. He knew your sister, and he felt Lady Tremaine might be glad to have it back.'

  'But you could have sent it to the Court. There was no need for Jane to come all the way to Plymouth, surely,' Elinor said, puzzled.

  'Take the picture out of the frame and look at the back,' he said.

  She did so, and saw small writing. It was difficult to read, but Elinor's eyesight was excellent. Having read it she glanced up at Mr Bellamy and nodded slowly.

  'To my beloved Richard, yours always, Jane,' she read out. 'My sister must have been very young. I was away at school, so I do not know who this Richard is. Nor,' she added swiftly, 'do I wish to know. But you were very tactful, and on Jane's behalf I thank you.'

  'Though I do not wish to say anything against my client, I could not help feeling that any new husband might not wish to have this reminder that his wife was once enamoured of another man,' Mr Bellamy said.

  How pompous he was, Elinor thought. William had always known about Jane's betrothal to Edmund, and as far as she could determine it had not affected him one jot. It even pleased him, to know he had gained his cousin's bride as well as his fortune.

  'I will give it to Jane,' Elinor said, and stood up. She held out her hand, and Mr Bellamy came round the desk to shake it and escort her to the outer room. As they entered it the door from the street opened, and Elinor glanced up to see a badly dressed man being ushered in by a portly gentleman dressed in the black garb of a professional man. It was similar to Mr Bellamy's costume, and her instant thought was he must be another lawyer. Was the other man in some kind of trouble?

  He was tall and his face was bronzed. Dark hair, uncut for months, was tied back with a piece of string. Bright blue eyes looked out from that bronzed face, and suddenly she knew who he was. Even though she had seen him so briefly more than a year since she could not be mistaken. He had made a deep impression on her.

  'Why, you are Edmund, Lord Tremaine,' she gasped. 'You are not dead after all!'

  His eyes crinkled in amusement.

  'Well this is better than being told I am dead! But I fear, madam, I cannot return the compliment. My memory, you know, my abysmal memory.'

  'I'm Elinor Darwen, Jane's sister. But you only saw me a couple of times. Oh dear, this is going to cause problems.'

  'An understatement, Miss Darwen,' the man with him said. 'I have come to hand his lordship over to his own man of business.'

  'Oh y
es, of course. I beg pardon. I must go. But – no doubt we will see you later at the Court, and hear all about it.'

  *

  Mr Bellamy had said nothing, but when Elinor had departed, he came forward slowly and took Edmund's hands in his. Edmund was looking after Elinor. He had not recalled her, but wondered how he could have forgotten so pretty a girl.

  'My boy, my dear boy! What a shock, but undoubtedly a pleasant one. I am so glad to see you! Mr Aylesford, my lord, do pray come into my office and we can discuss this.'

  When Edmund had been supplied with yet another glass of Madeira – I shall soon be drunk, he thought with a grin – Mr Bellamy demanded to be told how it was he had been out of touch for a year. He related his story, in less detail than he had to Mr Aylesford, and said that while he was recovering his memory with the help of familiar sights in Plymouth, and seeing old friends such as Mr Bellamy, it was still incomplete.

  'No doubt when you go to the Court more will return,' Mr Aylesford commented. 'I must go back to my neglected business, but do, my lord, call on me when you are again in town. I shall always be glad to see you.'

  He bowed himself out and Mr Bellamy laughed.

  'He'll be anxious to know all about your affairs.'

  'Yes. Mr Bellamy, tell me what has been happening. Was I presumed dead?'

  'A letter partly written to your mother was found with your notebook, on a dead body which was accordingly presumed to be yours. As I understand it the bodies were buried too quickly for anyone who might know you to come and identify the body.'

  'I see. And here? What has been happening at the Court? Is my mother there? Is she well? It must have been a great shock to her.'

  'Naturally. She is living with her sister Augusta, Mrs Holt, in Truro.'

  'I must go to her at once.'

  'No, I will send my son Samuel to tell her the good news and escort her back to the Court. You have other things you must be doing here.'

  'Can he take my chaise for her?'

  Mr Bellamy coughed, and shook his head.

  'He can ride. Your mother took your chaise to Truro and it is still there.'

  'I see. I suppose I look too disreputable to be seen, so is it possible for me to draw on my bank and buy some clothes? And I would dearly love a bath and a shave!' he added, feeling the bristles that had grown during the sea voyage.

  'You shall come with me at once to my home. It is only five minutes away. I can supply the bath, and my own barber shall be summoned to shave you and cut your hair. Then I will send out for clothes. They won't be as smart as those you used to purchase in London, but for the time being they must do.'

  Edmund agreed to this programme, and when he was bathed and shaved, and had selected breeches and shirt and a blue superfine tailcoat, along with a plain grey waistcoat, a high-crowned beaver hat, a greatcoat and even gloves and a cane, along with top boots that were not too bad a fit, Mr Bellamy said he had ordered a substantial luncheon and they could talk while his lordship ate.

  'You can't know how good it is to be clean and well-dressed, and eating such delicious food,' Edmund said, helping himself to more ham, but refusing to have his wine glass refilled. He had drunk quite enough, he said with a laugh. 'For the past year I have been used only to ale or country cider, with a rare glass of wine,' he explained.

  Mr Bellamy took a deep breath.

  'Well, my lord, I have to tell you what has been happening at Tremaine Court this past year.'

  'Yes, if you please.'

  Edmund was partly prepared, for Mr Bellamy had been evasive when he had asked questions.

  'Your cousin William, your heir, is now known as Lord Tremaine,' he said in a rush. 'He is living at the Court with his mother and sister, and his brother, as you will know, sometimes comes down from Oxford.'

  'I see. Well, if I was supposed to be dead, that was to be expected.'

  'But it's not all,' Mr Bellamy added with a determined air. 'He is married. To Miss Jane Darwen. They married at Easter, and – well, my lord – it is only to be expected, she is increasing.'

  *

  When Elinor reached the Court she slipped up the back stairs to her room. She had been tempted to tell Jonah the news, but restrained herself. If he knew it the gossip would be all over the estate and village within hours, probably before Edmund had come. It was up to him to reveal his return.

  She would have to wait until Jane was alone to give her the miniature Mr Bellamy had entrusted to her. In other circumstances Jane would have been relieved to have it, perhaps avoiding sparking William's jealousy over something long past, but now her sister was facing a far greater problem.

  What would happen? Edmund would presumably resume his title and take back his possessions, but must there be some legal procedure first? If was fortunate for him that William had been such a close-fisted man, and had not torn up the gardens as Mrs Tremaine had wanted. He could have wasted so much of Edmund's money.

  She was waiting in Jane's room which overlooked the main driveway, and she soon heard the sound of a chaise. Looking out she saw Edmund stepping down, followed by Mr Bellamy, so she hurried down to the drawing room. Jane would need her when she heard the news.

  She stopped to collect a bottle of smelling salts from Jane's dressing room, and reached the hall as Gooch opened the front door. He gave a gasp and stepped back.

  'My lord? Is it you indeed?'

  'It is, Gooch. Where are Mr William and his family?'

  'In the drawing room, my lord. Shall I – am I to announce you?'

  Edmund grinned. 'That might be embarrassing for you. I will do it. Come, Mr Bellamy.'

  Elinor managed to gain the drawing room while his lordship and Mr Bellamy were being divested of their greatcoats, and took a seat as close to her sister as she could. She looked at William as the door opened again and Lord Tremaine, closely followed by the lawyer, entered and stood regarding the room's inhabitants. They were all there, William, his mother and sister, as well as Jane.

  Mrs Tremaine, always anxious to have her dignity respected, frowned at seeing visitors left to find their own way without being properly announced, and started to say they were not at home, when William leaped to his feet, gasping incoherently.

  'What's this? Who the devil are you?' he eventually managed.

  'Don't you recognise me, cousin? I'm back from the dead.'

  'But – but – they found your, that is my cousin's, body on the battlefield!'

  'They found some of his possessions, but not me.'

  Mrs Tremaine had risen and was standing beside her son. She had gained control of her voice.

  'You can't fool me! You're some imposter, probably some by-blow of the old lord's who looks enough like Edmund to try and fool us! You won't, Edmund is dead, dead, do you hear?'

  Mr Bellamy sighed and stepped forward.

  'Mrs Tremaine, I can vouch for his lordship, so can another of my fellow lawyers he met in Plymouth. So can those of his servants who have seen him, who knew him well. He is no imposter, I assure you.'

  'I can vouch for him too. I'd know Edmund anywhere.'

  It was Jane, leaning back in her chair, holding her vinaigrette while being fanned by Elinor.

  Edmund glanced at her.

  'Thank you. I understand you are wed to my cousin. You have my felicitations, William.'

  Did he sound angry, or disappointed, Elinor wondered. He might well be angry Jane had not waited for even a year after his supposed death to put another in his place. And if he still loved her he would mourn the loss of her. His tone, however, gave no clue to his feelings.

  William, a furious look on his face, ignored Jane and turned to his mother.

  'Do you have grounds for thinking he is one of old Henry's byblows? I never heard he recognised any.'

  'He was too canny, but there will be people still alive in the village who know the truth. I'll never accept him, trying to oust you and steal your fortune as well as your title.'

  Edmund sighed. 'Do you think,
cousin, we could all sit down and discuss this calmly? I am aware my father had a son by one of the maidservants several years before I was born, and I know he apprenticed him to a cooper in Plymouth. Perhaps we should send for him.'

  'He's not the only one!'

  Mrs Tremaine was clearly not prepared to back down from her accusations. Mr Bellamy glanced at her, and without waiting for her invitation went to sit in a chair by the window, facing the room's inhabitants. Edmund sat beside him. After glaring at him, William persuaded his mother to resume her seat and went back to the one he had vacated.

  Mr Bellamy took a deep breath.

  'I knew his lordship only a little over a year ago, before he went back to the army, and I am satisfied he is who he claims. We can call on everyone who knew him before he last left the Court to return to the army. I imagine there are dozens of his servants, the villagers, tradesmen he knew in Plymouth as well as in London, and his army companions, who would vouch for him. If we take that route it will be costly, and you, Ma'am, as the instigator, or you – er – Mr Tremaine, would be liable for the costs.'

  William was looking thoughtful.

  'If he really is Edmund, I have been grossly deceived and out of pocket. I shall demand compensation.'

  Elinor could no longer contain her indignation. The contrast between the two men, both in looks and behaviour, was stark.

  'You have been living in his house since January, spending his money, and receiving rent for your own house which you let out! I think Edmund is the one to ask for compensation!'

  'You can keep your opinions to yourself, Miss!' Mrs Tremaine snapped. 'You are no more than William's pensioner, and can be grateful for having been given a home!'

  'And William even married my intended bride,' Edmund said softly, but not looking at Jane.

  Jane burst into tears.

  'I can't endure any more! Elinor, help me to my room!'

  She rose to her feet and stumbled towards the doorway. William remained where he was, but Edmund rose from his chair and went towards her. When he took her arm she shook him off, and turned to Elinor, who smiled at Edmund.