The Dark Earl

by Virginia Henley

  “I sensed that you were not totally devastated over his asking Beatrix to become his wife, but I know that something is bothering you.”

  “Oh, Father, you are so perceptive. It is my conscience. It’s playing merry hell with me. I feel like I have shirked my duty toward the hardworking people of Durham. My heart is heavy over their plight, and I could have done so much good if I had become the Countess of Durham.”

  “I recommended Lambton for the lord lieutenancy, and before Prince Albert and Victoria left for Balmoral, he told me that the queen had agreed.”

  Harry reined in and came to a halt. “Oh, Father, you did that for my sake!”

  “I did, but thinking about it, I warrant Lambton’s appointment can be a good thing. It could spur him to take on some responsibility. He has no father or grandfather to guide him, so as his father-in-law, I thought I might take on the role.”

  “That’s a splendid idea. If you can badger him into bettering the lives of the poor people of Durham, my conscience won’t prick me so relentlessly.”

  “Working for a royal prince has taught me to be a diplomat. Badgering gets you nowhere. On the other hand, a charm offensive usually brings about the desired results.”

  Abercorn winked at his daughter. “It is a good thing that D’Arcy doesn’t know of his appointment yet. I shall take ruthless advantage of the fact.”

  “Just as a formality, Your Grace, I suppose I should read this marriage contract before I sign it.” D’Arcy Lambton took the legal paper from Abercorn’s desk and sat down in the brass-mounted armchair.

  James Hamilton could not help contrasting D’Arcy’s casual attitude with his own when he had negotiated the marriage contract with the Duke of Bedford before he wed his daughter Lady Louisa. Abercorn had used the services of his wily attorneys from both Ireland and Scotland. And before he signed the legal document, he had negotiated a dowry that was more than double what had been offered.

  “I have no need of Lady Beatrix’s dowry, Your Grace.”

  “Your generosity is commendable, my dear fellow. Since you don’t need the money, may I suggest that you put it in trust for Beatrix? That’s what I did when I married her mother.”

  “That’s an excellent suggestion.”

  “Good. I’ll just add that clause to the contract to clarify it.”

  D’Arcy was about to hand the document back when Abercorn shook his head. “Read the second page. It is of paramount importance.”

  D’Arcy turned to the second page and read: If I predecease my wife, she will receive a lump sum of ten thousand pounds, and five thousand each year thereafter from my estate in Durham.

  “I don’t like to contemplate my demise, but I understand that if anything befell me, my widow would need to be provided for.”

  “It is a relief to see that you have a good grasp of legal matters. If the contract is acceptable, I’ll summon my secretary to witness both our signatures.”

  When the document was signed and sealed, Abercorn poured two glasses of Scotch whisky and handed one to his future son-in-law.

  “Congratulations, my dear fellow. By the way, I have decided to recommend you for the appointment of lord lieutenant of Durham.”

  D’Arcy’s face lit up. “Your Grace, how may I thank you?”

  “I have every confidence that you will surpass your illustrious father in his many achievements.”

  “To be truthful, I barely remember my father. When I was seven, he became ambassador to Russia, and after that, he was appointed governor-general of Canada. I lived with my grandfather Lord Earl Grey.”

  “Your father was the member of Parliament representing Durham for sixteen years, long before he was sent overseas. He was nicknamed ‘Radical Jack’ because of his good work helping his constituents. The working-class people loved him. He did so much for Durham—that was the reason the Crown rewarded him with an earldom.”

  “Thank you for telling me, Your Grace. I had no idea.”

  “Your father was a man of the people, in spite of his great possessions. He helped my wife’s brother Lord John to write and pass the Reform Bill. He was ever sympathetic to the Irish people, and a champion of the downtrodden. Everyone admired the first Earl of Durham, but I have confidence that the second Earl of Durham will achieve even greater admiration. It won’t be easy to stand up to the greedy colliery owners who put profits before safety and the miners’ welfare, but once you are appointed lord lieutenant, you will have the power and authority of the Crown behind you.”

  “You have given me much food for thought, Your Grace. I am most grateful that you recommended me to Prince Albert. If I am fortunate enough to be appointed lord lieutenant of Durham, I will strive to make you proud of me.”

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God and this congregation to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony.” The reverend’s voice echoed about the high-vaulted ceiling of St. George’s Church.

  The large stained-glass windows that rose above the altar mesmerized Harry. The August sunshine coming through the glass made the colors brilliant. Her glance traveled from the hand-clasped bride and groom to her mother and father, who were standing beside their daughter. I hope Trixy has as long and happy a marriage as our parents. Harry doubted that it would be, but here in the sight of God, she hoped her prayer would be answered.

  When her glance passed over D’Arcy Lambton, she felt no pang of regret. For a moment she stared at her sister Jane. She is gazing at Will Montagu with her heart in her eyes. She looks absolutely lovesick.

  Harry’s eyes moved to Will Montagu, and she wondered why D’Arcy hadn’t asked Thomas Anson to be his groomsman. It’s been three weeks since I’ve seen him. Harry’s thoughts flew back to her mother’s birthday party. Why the devil didn’t I think of falling into the lake at Campden Hill? Harry fantasized about being carried from the water in Anson’s strong arms, and suddenly regret filled her heart.

  Stop it, Harry. She glanced at Rachel, who was standing beside her. I must say something irreverent to banish my self-pity. She leaned close to Rachel and whispered, “Did you know that so many Mayfair debutantes have been married in this church, it’s known as the London Temple of Hymen?”

  Rachel had to cover her mouth to conceal her laughter.

  When the newlyweds emerged from St. George’s, the family followed them outside into Hanover Square, where they threw rice at the bride and groom. Almost immediately, it attracted strutting pigeons.

  “Watch out for pigeon shyte!” Harry cried gaily.

  Everyone laughed with the exception of Lady Montagu, who was clearly horrified.

  D’Arcy helped Trixy into his phaeton for the ride to Hampden House, where the bridal supper would be held. The new Countess of Durham’s wedding gown was so voluminous, there was room for no one else in the carriage.

  Abercorn helped his wife and Jane into the family carriage. “Rachel, Harry, there’s room for you two. Riley can come back for James and me.”

  “Rachel and I have decided to walk. It’s such a lovely afternoon.” The two young ladies linked arms and set off along Brook Street.

  “Charlotte Montagu looked down her nose as if she smelled something putrid.”

  “It must have been pigeon shyte!” The two females roared with laughter.

  Rachel sobered. “Was that difficult for you, Harry?”

  “Not in the least. I feel like a condemned prisoner who has just been reprieved. And here’s the best part. While Trixy is honeymooning at Lambton Castle, we are going to Ireland. Barons Court, here we come!”

  “I’m so looking forward to it, Harry. Lord Butler returned home only two days ago, and already I am pining for him.”

  “Well, if absence makes the captain’s heart grow fonder, I predict an Irish wedding.” Harry slanted her a wicked glance. “Or you could simply jump over the brush!”

  The Hampden House ballroom was decorated with elegant vases filled with fragrant roses, lilies, spiky as
ters, and delicate meadowsweet. A long table had been placed at the center of the chamber for the adults, and a smaller round table had been set up for the younger Hamilton children and their nursemaids.

  Separate buffet tables laden with food, desserts, and wine were set against the walls, and two liveried footmen were assigned to circulate, carrying silver trays holding glasses of champagne, the moment the wedding party arrived.

  Harriet and Rachel were the last to arrive. The younger children, who hadn’t been at the church, were dancing about the bride, eager to touch her voluminous wedding dress and floor-length lace veil.

  While Harry conversed with Johnny and his wife, Fanny, she kept an eye on D’Arcy and Will Montagu. It wasn’t long before they withdrew into the small antechamber that was being used as a cloakroom. She gave them a few minutes before she followed them.

  “Ah, just the gentlemen I wanted to see.” Harry looked from the groom to the best man and back again. “Allow me to welcome you to the family, D’Arcy. I warrant you will make an excellent brother, and I believe I will make a better sister than wife.”

  D’Arcy looked immensely relieved. Though it would take time to erase the awkwardness between them, Harry’s friendly words helped to put them at ease. But if the young Earl of Durham thought he was going to get away scot-free, he was mistaken.

  Harry glanced at Will Montagu. “D’Arcy lost the wager. Did he pay you yet?”

  Montagu had the decency to flush. “Wager?”

  “The one you both registered in White’s betting book.”

  “I just gave him a bank draft,” D’Arcy said stiffly.

  Harry held out her hand. “May I see it, Will?”

  Montagu, shamefaced, took the Bank of England draft from his pocket, and placed it on her open palm.

  “Since what the pair of you did was unconscionable, I shall relieve you of your shame by using this two hundred guineas to start a fund that will benefit the widows and orphans of Durham.”

  “Harry . . . I don’t—,” D’Arcy began.

  “Oh, I know. . . . You don’t know how to thank me. I’m sure you wish you’d thought of it yourself. Never mind, D’Arcy; you’ll be able to contribute on a regular basis.” Harry tucked the bank draft into her décolletage. “Come, gentlemen, this calls for champagne.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I much prefer comfort to speed,” Lady Lu declared to her husband and son, who had suggested they take the train from London to Liverpool, where James Hamilton kept a small yacht to transport his family to Ireland.

  “It would cut a day from our traveling time,” James pointed out.

  “Train travel is dirty, noisy, and uncomfortable. Sitting on wooden seats for hours on end would put my bum to sleep. On top of that, we would have to stop over in Birmingham. . . . Birmingham, for God’s sake! A fate for more courageous souls than me.”

  Abercorn laughed and graciously conceded. “I shall go immediately and arrange for two Berlin coaches with post-horses we can exchange in Oxford and Stafford. Riley can drive one, and the coaching company will provide a professional driver for the second.”

  “I’ll come with you, Father,” young James offered. “I want to make sure the driver can spit through his front teeth, so he can teach me the skill.”

  “See? We will all be happier if we take the road. We’ll spend the first night in Oxford, your old prowling grounds. Coach travel allows us to stop anytime to stretch our legs, dine at charming village inns, or do some sightseeing if the fancy takes us. Early August is the ideal time to enjoy England’s lovely countryside.”

  Harry arose from the breakfast table. “I’ll go and finish my packing.” She hoped she sounded casual, though inside she was bubbling with excitement. If Father changes the post-horses in Stafford, that’s where we will stay overnight. I shall be able to visit Shugborough Hall and wander about the grounds to my heart’s content.

  Upstairs, Harry found Jane doing her own packing. Her sister kept stealing glances at her and a strange silence stretched between them. “Is something bothering you, Jane?”

  “I might as well confess, Harry. It’s my fault that D’Arcy proposed to Trixy instead of you. She confided to me that she was in love with D’Arcy. So at Mother’s birthday celebration I sang Trixy’s praises to him, and told him she had lost her heart to him. I revealed that Trixy was over the moon when you were being courted by Thomas Anson, because she thought that D’Arcy would pay court to her.”

  Harry hid her amusement. “The whole thing was a conspiracy against me. If you hadn’t opened D’Arcy’s eyes to Trixy’s obsession with him, I would have been his bride.”

  “Can you ever forgive me, Harry?” Jane implored.

  “Time heals all wounds,” Harry said with a straight face. “Ask me again tomorrow.” Unable to contain her amusement longer, she threw back her head and laughed.

  “You’re not heartbroken?”

  “Jane, men are like hansom cabs. If you miss one, another will be along directly.”

  Jane looked puzzled. “Men remind you of hansom cabs?”

  I’ll never ride in a hansom cab again without remembering Thomas Anson’s kisses.

  “If females wore men’s trousers when they were traveling, there would be much more room in carriages.” Harry moved over to make room for her little sister Maud.

  “It would cause a scandal. Queen Victoria would never approve,” Rachel said.

  “Mmm, I’m almost tempted,” Lady Lu said irreverently. She lifted Maud onto her knee so she could look out the window.

  “When we get to Barons Court, I shall purloin a pair of my brother’s riding breeches,” Harry said decisively. “The Irish are very accepting.”

  “Your father is Irish, but I doubt if he would accept it,” her mother said.

  “Where is Daddy?” Maud asked.

  “He’s riding in the other carriage this afternoon, so that your brothers will behave themselves. About now, he’s likely cursing me for refusing to go by train.”

  Harry winked at Rachel. “He looked happy enough last night in Oxford when the two of you came back from your moonlight stroll.”

  The Duchess of Abercorn smiled her secret smile.

  Harry glanced out the window at the lovely green meadows with their flower-filled hedgerows. “The countryside is so pretty, we must be in Staffordshire.”

  “Yes, thank heaven we have left the industrial Midlands behind. The manufacturing towns fill England’s coffers, but they certainly detract from our country’s beauty.”

  “Maud, would you like to come and sit on my knee? Let’s see if we can spot any black-and-white sheepdogs in the fields,” Harry suggested.

  “I think we should have a day of leisure tomorrow, before proceeding on to Liverpool. Your father and the boys could go fishing in the River Trent, and I’d love to explore Lichfield. The shops are bound to have some lovely Staffordshire pottery, and the cathedral is reputed to be the most beautiful in all of England.”

  “That’s a splendid idea,” Harry agreed. “By the time we reach Stafford, there will only be time to have dinner at the posting inn and go to bed.” Tomorrow, I intend to take a look at Shugborough Hall. I fell in love with it a decade ago and I am curious to find out if I still feel the same way.

  Thomas Anson spent the day making the rounds of Shugborough’s tenant farms. He had supped with the head steward, Ramsey, last night. The man had seemed anxious about the Earl of Lichfield’s demise, and Thomas realized that keeping his position as steward was uppermost in his mind. Ramsey seemed like an honest, decent fellow, but Thomas had decided to question the tenant farmers about him. Today, he was relieved that he’d heard no complaints about the steward. If the farmers had been unhappy with the steward, Thomas would have sent him packing. Tonight, I’ll tell Ramsey that his job will be secure when I inherit Shugborough.

  After dinner, Thomas planned to go over the books. The spring sheep shearing had produced more wool than last year, and he hoped the profits wo
uld cover any repairs needed to the farmhouses and pay for the maintenance of Shugborough. The hall had eighty chimneys, and every year at least a few needed new bricks and mortar.

  Tomorrow he intended to visit with some of his constituents and tell them that he had procured funding from Parliament to build another new school in the county, and also erect some additional wool-storage sheds along the Staffordshire canal.

  As he rode toward the hall in the late afternoon, his thoughts returned to the dilemma his father had created. The old swine had demanded that he wed an heiress, but the only woman Thomas desired was Lady Harriet Hamilton. Now that she was beyond his reach, he would have to look elsewhere, no matter how unpalatable. He was well aware that many wealthy families were eager to exchange a large dowry for a title, but such a solution made his gorge rise.

  As Shugborough came into view, he set aside his worries. He was determined to take pleasure in his beloved hall, while he had the chance. All too soon he would be back in London, trying to solve his problems. He thought of Fowler and cursed. The first thing I shall do when I return to London is hire a personal attorney of my own.

  Thomas noticed a lady’s saddle horse tied to a tree, cropping the grass on the lawn.

  Then he saw a female standing before the house, looking up at it. As he rode closer, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He dismounted and strode toward her.

  “Harry! What the devil are you doing here?”

  “Thomas!” Her gasp told him that she had not expected to see him. “I . . . We . . . are on our way to Ireland.”

  He could not control his emotions. Anger flared in him. He closed the distance between them and towered above her. “Why the hellfire did you marry D’Arcy Lambton? You know damn well you don’t love him!”

  He saw her pale green eyes widen. “I didn’t marry D’Arcy. My sister Beatrix is his blushing bride.”