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Far Beyond Rubies

Page 23

by Rosemary Morris


  “My father was an exceptionally tolerant man, who believed everyone should be free to worship as their conscience dictated, without interference from the Church or the State, provided they did not act against the interests of the Realm.”

  Gervaise sipped some wine during a brief silence. “Let us consider Mistress Kemp’s Huguenot grandsire, Sieur de Hautville, a prudent gentleman with two daughters to provide for. What did he do? When his older daughter married, he settled an estate called Riverside on her and her heirs.” Gervaise rose to bow to Juliana.

  Ravenstock stared at Gervaise. “Come to the point, Beaumaris.”

  Gervaise sat down. “Please have patience with me, Ravenstock, for it is now time to tell Kemp’s story.”

  This time Gervaise’s smile thinned his lips in a grim manner.

  His cheeks mottled purple and ivory, William glared at Sophia, who wept softly. “Be quiet!”

  Gervaise ignored the interruptions. “Reared as a Papist in his early years, young Kemp resented his father’s love of my heroine. He also resented her religion and, most of all, her inheritance. Moreover, he could not accept the Protestant succession to the throne.” Gervaise held the yellowed scroll aloft. “He affixed his name and seal to this document, the significance of which I will reveal later.”

  For a moment, William bared his teeth and then glared at Gervaise as though he wished him to the devil. “Impossible, Ravenstock has the only copy in existence and—” William began.

  “What do you mean Kemp?” Ravenstock broke in. He looked at William full in the face with such malevolence that Juliana shrank back in her seat.

  Ravenstock turned his attention to Gervaise. “M’dear Beaumaris, I cannot imagine why you requested m’presence at this gathering at which, it seems, I have no business. With your permission, I bid you good evening.”

  Gervaise leaned across the table, his shoulders tensed like a lion ready to strike. “As you please, my lord, but may I point out there are armed soldiers at the front and rear entrances of my house?”

  His face bone white, Ravenstock looked as though he had heard the iron door of a trap slam shut.

  Sophia’s eyes bulged. “What in the name of all that is holy are they doing there?”

  William, his face now grey except for the broken thread veins in his cheeks, hurried to the window. “It is true, Ravenstock, there are soldiers in the street.”

  Ralph laughed harshly. “Beaumaris, your tale is more interesting than a play. I look forward to the end.”

  “Curse you, I do not find it entertaining,” William swore.

  Gervaise gestured to William. “Be seated while I continue.”

  “Kemp, do as Beaumaris says,” Ravenstock snarled, the faint lines of dissipation on his face became more marked. “Beaumaris, when you have had your say, I doubt not that all of us will be glad to depart in peace.”

  “In my shoes, would you do so?”

  “Perhaps not. Please have the goodness to continue this comedy,” Ravenstock replied.

  “Very well, I shall now put aside this document to which Kemp affixed his seal, and unfold more of his folly.”

  Sophia moaned while shaking her fists at William. “I never wanted to marry you.”

  For the first time in her life, Juliana sympathised with Sophia. Who would have wanted to marry one of William’s ilk?

  A deep crease formed between Ralph’s eyebrows. “Gervaise, I think Her Majesty’s government will be indebted to you before this day is out.”

  Juliana glanced at Ravenstock, suspecting turmoil churned beneath his tranquil façade. His mouth had tightened and his eyes had sparked when Gervaise mentioned the soldiers.

  Juliana’s nervousness coupled with excitement, mingled with triumph. She looked at Mr Yelland. His cheeks even more florid than before, he perused the affidavit, a tentative smile curling the corners of his mouth.

  Gervaise raised his hand. The pure light from the window behind him silhouetted his coat, giving him the silver sheen of a knight in armour.

  William and Sophia regarded him with varying degrees of apprehension and curiosity.

  Gervaise toyed with blood-red wax seals attached to a yellowed document lying before him. Fascinated, Juliana waited for him to speak.

  He pushed aside the yellowed document and then picked up a roll of parchment tied with pink ribbon. “This,” he said silkily, “has some bearing on another event.”

  Juliana shifted forward in her chair. “What is it?”

  “A forged will, which favours the villain of my tale.”

  She glanced at William’s face, the sheen of perspiration on his forehead plain to see by the summer light streaming in through the windows.

  Intensely curious about the will and the contents of the other mysterious document, everyone paid full attention to Gervaise’s words. Breathless, she wondered whose seals were attached to the forgery.

  “For the moment,” Gervaise drawled, “we will consider these.” With a flourish, he put down the forgery and indicated another parchment. “This is the last will and testament of Mistress Kemp’s late father.”

  William eyed the door opposite Gervaise.

  His chin thrust forward a little, Ralph continued to stand with his back to it, one hand on the hilt of his sword. “Please continue, Beaumaris.” Steel underlay his quiet tone.

  “With pleasure,” Gervaise said. “When his father lay in his bedchamber at the point of death, Kemp brought a papist priest, a doctor, and his assistant.”

  “You have evidence?” Ravenstock asked, his face untroubled by the slightest hint of anxiety, although he no longer toyed with his opal ring, and forgot to drawl.

  Gervaise nodded. “Yes, his valet has sworn on the Bible that he recognised the priest and the other papists. He has also made his mark on his statement.”

  “Why did William admit a priest?” Juliana asked.

  “For your father to receive the last rites,” Gervaise explained. “I presume that in his heart, your late father never renounced his true faith. I also presume your half-brother, a secret papist, knew it.”

  Juliana did not know whether she was more shocked because William had fetched a priest, or because her father received extreme unction. Yet she was most upset because, during their life together, she had never seen her beloved father in his true colours.

  Gervaise sipped some wine before he continued. “According to sworn testimony in my possession, your half-brother had the will with a forged signature, drawn up in his own favour.”

  William looked at the parquet floor. “Nonsense.”

  “Can you prove it is true?” Ralph asked.

  “I have proof the late baron suspected foul play.” Gervaise picked up a sheet of paper and handed it to Mr Yelland. “Be good enough to read this aloud, and tell us whether you recognise the handwriting and the signature.”

  Apart from Sophia’s sniffles, no sound disturbed the book room while Mr Yelland muttered. “Interesting.” He cleared his throat. “Indeed,” he began in a firm voice, “I recognise the handwriting, my lord. It is the sixth baron’s, and his signature is affixed to these few words addressed to Mistress Kemp.”

  “Please read it aloud,” Gervaise said.

  Mr Yelland bowed to Juliana before he began to read the letter.

  “My beloved Juliana,

  “Time is short. My hand falters as I write.

  “My beloved child, I fear William, whom I have begged to bring a priest to me, will try to cheat you of your inheritance, my London House and Riverside Estate, which are without question yours by right. I also fear he will take my sweet Henrietta into his charge. Do not allow him to succeed.

  “Take care of my dearest Henrietta, whose guardian you shall be, pray for my soul, and forgive me for any pain I have unwittingly caused you.

  “May the peace of God Almighty be with you and your dear sister for now and evermore.

  “Your loving Father.”

  “This letter proves Father did not break
his word to me.” Juliana regarded William contemptuously. “What is more, even if he was a secret Papist, he was always the kindest of fathers.”

  William and Sophia shouted hysterically at Gervaise, their words unintelligible.

  “Listen!” Gervaise’s raised voice cut through the room like the crack of a whip.

  Ralph stroked his upper lip with his forefinger. “Why was the letter not produced immediately after Kemp’s death?”

  Gervaise inclined his head to Ralph. “Mistress Kemp’s late father entrusted it to Henrietta’s nurse, Grace, who tended him during his last illness. Immediately after his father’s death, Kemp dismissed her. As Grace did not know Juliana’s whereabouts, she could not deliver the letter.”

  Ralph rumpled his wig with an agitated hand and scowled at William. “You must be mad.”

  “No, not insane, Kemp is deep in debt,” Gervaise explained.

  “So are many others. Is gambling not the scourge of the age?” Ralph replied, revealing a puritanical aspect of his nature Juliana had not previously been aware of.

  “Yes,” Gervaise agreed, “but our villain, Kemp, is being blackmailed by a man even more evil than himself. A man who insists he marry my heroine, and that Riverside estate—which her half-brother went to such unscrupulous lengths to obtain—should be her marriage portion.”

  William and Sophia’s voices rose in a crescendo of frenzied protest. They fell when, in a loud voice, Gervaise asked Mr Yelland to speak.

  The lawyer stood, resting his clasped hands on the mound of his belly. “I shall be brief. The document purported to be the late Lord Kemp’s last will and testament troubled me. Although the signature is at variance with his lordship’s usual one, I presumed it could have been because his hand shook in his last extremity.”

  Mr Yelland bowed to Juliana. “The accusation of illegitimacy made by your half-brother surprised me.” He sighed. “Mistress Kemp, I found it almost impossible to believe you had been disinherited.” He cleared his throat and inclined his head to Gervaise. “I am delighted by the facts which have been revealed.” He stared hard at William. “My lord, I regret I can no longer act on your behalf.”

  “Thank you,” Gervaise said to Mr Yelland. He unrolled the tantalising, yellowed document with many seals, which he had earlier set aside. “Herein lies the means to send Kemp to the gallows.” He ignored shocked gasps. “In order to restore the second James to the throne, he conspired with a dozen others to murder his daughter, the late Queen Mary, her husband the third William, and our present queen, who was then Princess Anne.”

  William’s face twisted. He sprang to his feet and glanced at the fireplace in which a fire blazed. “Show me the document.”

  “My dear Kemp,” Gervaise drawled, “were I in your shoes I would wish to burn the evidence, but an attempt to do so would avail you naught. There are two certified copies of it.” He turned his attention to Ravenstock, who stood motionless with his fists clenched. “Although you were too cunning to affix your seal to the document, I am sure it can be proved you were also party to the plot.”

  Disgusted by Ravenstock’s machinations, Juliana shuddered.

  “To the devil with you, Ravenstock! Curse the day we met.” Tears streamed down her fool of a half-brother’s cheeks. “We are undone. Curse you, Beaumaris. How you found us out, I know not.”

  “Condemned by an idiot,” Ravenstock fumed, dashed to the window, and thrust it open.

  Gervaise withdrew his deadly dress sword from its scabbard. “Mistress Kemp, please be good enough to summon Wilson.”

  In response to the hiss of steel, Ravenstock swung around, his hand on the hilt of his own dress sword.

  Juliana rang the handbell while Sophia screamed. William subsided onto his chair, rocking backward and forward, his head in his hands. “I am ruined. I am ruined,” he muttered.

  “Ravenstock, do not add to your crimes with rash conduct,” Ralph said.

  While waiting for the handbell’s summons to be answered, Ralph, sword in hand, shoulders held so square they revealed his military training, stood in readiness to assist Gervaise.

  Ravenstock withdrew his sword from its scabbard, bowed, and handed it to Gervaise. He turned to Juliana. “Your champion is a better man than I, but please believe me when I say I would have liked to marry you not only for your estate.”

  At that moment, Juliana accorded him grudging respect, but she had none for William, who wailed like a jealous, snivelling child caught with hand in the proverbial honey pot.

  The butler opened the door. His eyes goggled at the sight of drawn steel.

  “There are soldiers without, Wilson,” Gervaise said. “Please ask them to step in here.”

  Juliana gasped. She did not want blood on her hands—even that of a traitor.

  Minutes later, triumphant because her rights had been restored, but with simultaneous horror and pity, Juliana watched soldiers lead a distraught William away.

  “This is all your doing, Juliana,” Sophia screeched. She screamed over and over again, her voice becoming shriller and more harpy-like with each repeated unintelligible accusation.

  Gervaise indicated Ravenstock. “Arrest that gentleman.”

  Two burly redcoats seized the viscount’s arms.

  “Release me,” Ravenstock ordered, his angelic face impassive. “Though I go to my death, I shall not try to escape.”

  “Hold on to him,” Gervaise ordered. “His lordship is guilty of blackmailing Kemp, and is also suspected of treason. He must be detained at Her Majesty’s pleasure until he is judged by his peers.”

  “To the Tower,” the captain ordered his men.

  Juliana looked from her hysterical sister-by-law to Gervaise. In spite of the misery Sophia had caused her, she pitied the sobbing woman, so she went to her side and helped her to stand.

  “What will become of me?” Sophia moaned.

  Unable to provide an answer, Juliana patted her sister-by-law’s bony shoulder. “Come.” Juliana guided Sophia to the door, before returning to her chair in the book room, where the lawyer stood next to Gervaise.

  “Mr Yelland, is it really true that Riverside is mine?”

  The lawyer nodded.

  Ralph approached them with even steps. “Congratulations, Mistress Kemp.” He turned to look at Gervaise. “May I see the evidence?”

  Gervaise laughed. “By all means.”

  Ralph went to the desk and unrolled the yellowed document with many seals attached to it. He stared at it, his astonishment plain to see. “It is blank!”

  “Just so,” Gervaise drawled.

  “I presume there are no certified copies of the original?”

  “You are correct.”

  “Why did Ravenstock not expose you?” Ralph asked.

  “He did not know whether or not I had stolen the original document.”

  “Such cunning, Gervaise, I scarce know what to say.”

  “Please say nothing.”

  Ralph clapped Gervaise on the back. “I have no doubt this day’s business will earn Her Majesty’s heartfelt thanks.”

  “You forget. There is no proof, so I doubt the queen needs to be troubled about the matter.”

  “The Tower, the soldiers—” Ralph shook his head as though he could not come to terms with what had occurred.

  A slight smile curved Gervaise’s mouth. “A ruse, Ralph.” He looked across the book room at Juliana, before he drew his brother-by-law out of her earshot. “I hope I have been rewarded a hundred fold,” he whispered. “Is it not written in the Bible, “‘Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far beyond rubies.’”

  Ralph looked in the direction of Gervaise’s gaze. “Ah, just so. Juliana will be an ornament at court and a jewel in your house,” he whispered back.

  “If she will have me,” Gervaise murmured, beset by a sudden doubt.

  Juliana hurried to Gervaise’s side. She gazed up at him, her heart full of gratitude which no words could fully express. “For as long as
I live, I can never, ever thank you for all you have done for my sister and I. My life is transformed. What can I do to show my appreciation?”

  Gervaise inclined his head. “You have already thanked me. Once sufficed. Proving you are Mistress of Riverside has been my pleasure and privilege.”

  Juliana smiled at him before going to speak to Mr Yelland.

  Ralph shook Gervaise’s hand. “You did well.”

  “I achieved all my purposes but one.”

  “What is that?” Ralph asked.

  “It is one with which only Juliana can assist me.”

  “I am sure she will accept you,” Ralph said with an understanding glint in his eye. “Please, excuse me. By this time, I am sure Barbara is agog with curiosity.”

  Ralph turned at the precise moment at which his wife entered the book room, and looked at them round-eyed. “Soldiers in the house! Kemp and Ravenstock marched out of it. ’Pon my word, I could scare believe the evidence of my eyes.”

  Juliana curtsied. “I must go.”

  Gervaise took a step toward her. “Where?”

  “To Henrietta. Everything I wanted for her has come to pass. Although it will be hard to explain about Father being a Papist and William’s treachery, I think the truth is always best. Besides, I am sure she will be happy when I tell her we are going home to Riverside.”

  Barbara embraced Juliana. “The estate is yours?”

  “Yes, and how can I ever thank you for your kindness?” Juliana disentangled herself from Barbara’s arms. She looked at Ralph. “Also for yours, my lord. I know how reluctant you were to come to London for my sake.”

  Ralph kissed her cheek. “It is I who should thank you. Your need forced me to face the lions in their den, and realise they are not to be feared. Indeed, I have enjoyed meeting my friends and acquaintances once again.”

  Juliana smiled at Ralph before she looked at Gervaise. “Tomorrow,” her voice throbbed, “Henrietta and I shall go home.”

  What would his house be like without her enchanting presence? Gervaise frowned. “Are you so anxious to be gone?”

 

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