by Laura Landon
“And that’s what I shall give you.”
Chapter 8
Everything about the following day seemed to have been rendered in some kind of fairytale. It felt to Frank as if he’d been born into a new life where every sensation was heightened, every experience was redolent with meaning, and every smile on his new love’s face seemed the dearest gift.
Frank and George rose early and hitched the sleigh. After they ate, the ladies joined them for a sleigh ride to the village. Dunstanville boasted a bustling market, a smithy, and several specialty shops. There was even a bookstore and a tea shop that served uniquely delicious pastries.
George was telling Frank which shops he wanted to make sure they visited and Tillie and Corrine and Felicity were carrying on their own conversation.
“I could have stayed behind,” Felicity said, shifting in the seat. “You would have been more comfortable.”
“Absolutely not,” Tillie answered. “We enjoy your company. You are always welcome to join us.”
“Of course you are,” Corrine added, reaching over to squeeze her sister’s hand. “Felicity is simply a little disappointed because Lord Derwin’s grandson didn’t accompany him.”
“Corrie!”
“Well, it’s true.”
“Oh,” Tillie answered. “Do you have feelings for our young Earl of Penview?”
“Not really,” Felicity countered unconvincingly. “Besides, he doesn’t even know I exist.”
“But perhaps he would if he had accompanied Lord Derwin and met you.”
“That’s a moot point now,” Felicity said.
Tillie glanced at the expression on Felicity’s face. There was a sadness in her eyes, evidence that she had unrequited feelings for Lord Penview.
“Perhaps he’ll notice you when you return to London.”
“I doubt it. He attends the meetings with his grandfather and walks right by me as if I’m invisible lately. I don’t know why I should care for him. But we had such a lively conversation the first time we met that I, well, I want to know him better.”
“Then maybe you’ll have to do something that will gain his attention.”
“Like what?”
“Perhaps something just short of spilling a glass of champagne on his expensive clothing?” Corrine suggested. The three ladies laughed so loudly that it drew Frank’s and George’s attention.
“What’s so humorous?” George asked.
“Nothing,” Tillie chuckled. “We were simply devising ways to make certain men pay for ignoring us.”
“Well, I hope you’re not including either of us in your chicanery.”
“Of course not!” Corrine answered. “You’ve been most attentive. The perfect gentlemen.”
Frank and George graced them with broad, heart-stopping smiles, then returned to the topic they were discussing.
“What drew you to Lord Penview, Felicity?” Corrine asked her sister.
“I wish I knew,” she answered. “Can you say what drew you to a certain gentleman sitting across from us?” she asked softly enough so she couldn’t be overheard. “Or you, Tillie, to the major?”
Tillie and Corrine slowly shook their heads. There was no answer to Felicity’s question. The mystique of attraction was just that. A mystery. A lovely, mystical magnetism.
The sleigh slowed as they entered the village, then stopped at the high end of a broad avenue lined with Dunstanville’s most notable shops. The group stepped to the snow-packed ground, then went from shop to shop, gripping one another so as not to slip as they crossed the street. At last they reached the far end of the avenue where they dropped their packages with the waiting sleigh driver and crowded back into the sleigh.
It had been a lovely day, marred only by the fact that Tillie and Corrine had happy futures before them, while Felicity pined for a fellow who didn’t know she existed.
Life wasn’t fair. Tillie knew that. Even if her own heart was too light to completely comprehend Felicity’s misery.
. . .
Later that afternoon, Lord Dunstan invited the men to join him in his study.
“A matter has come up that I wish to discuss with you,” Lord Dunstan said when they were settled and had devoted a few minutes to idle pleasantries. He directed his attention to Lord Broughton and Lord Derwin.
Their expressions turned hard.
“Is something amiss, Dunstan?” Broughton asked. “Something that concerns us?”
“Actually, yes. It’s the mining act that will come up when the House convenes.”
Broughton stiffened in his chair. “I’d hoped you wouldn’t bring that up, Dunstan. You’re in favor of the bill, Derwin and I are not. Let’s leave it at that.”
“I quite agree, my good man,” Derwin added. “I hope you didn’t invite us here to try to change our minds, Dunstan. I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed if that was your purpose.”
“No. That was not my purpose,” Dunstan said. “Not entirely. Although I truly am interested in the reasons you’re both so vehemently against the passage of the bill. Surely you must realize that the working conditions in our mines need to be improved for our workers’ safety.”
“Of course we do,” Broughton said. His voice became louder as his agitation increased. “But how beneficial will it be for our miners if we’re forced to shut down our mines because we can’t afford to make the improvements as quickly as the bill requires?”
“Surely you can’t mean that,” Lord Beckett interjected. “Both of your mines are known to be among the most profitable in the area.”
Broughton bolted out of his chair. “How would you know how profitable our mines are? Or how much of the profits we must draw off to provide for our families.”
Broughton stormed several steps away from them then turned sharply. “I have expenses that you don’t have, Dunstan.” By now he was huffing dramatically. “I have two daughters in need of successful Seasons in order to find good matches.” His voice rose further. “Do you know how much it costs to outfit them each month? And my son! My son presents me with a mountain of bills in staggering amounts to cover his gaming debts and his tailor’s bills.”
Broughton fumed as he stormed from one side of the room to the other. “How dare you invite us here under the pretext of an impending engagement when your only purpose is to try to convince us to change our minds concerning the mining bill!”
Lord Dunstan rose from his chair, alarmed and frankly annoyed at the man’s tirade. Yet he kept his voice modulated. “Sit down Broughton. That wasn’t the reason you were invited.”
The Earl of Broughton locked his angry glare with Dunstan’s, then returned to his chair.
“If that wasn’t the reason, then what was?” he asked.
Lord Dunstan shifted his gaze from his son to Lord Beckett, then let it focus on Frank. There was a questioning in his gaze, an entreaty to take over the conversation. To spare him from playing adversary to his peer.
Frank rose from his chair and turned to face Lord Broughton and Lord Derwin. “Gentlemen, I believe what Lord Dunstan is trying to ask is just how desperate are you to be assured that the vote in the House fails?”
“What do you mean ‘how desperate’?” Broughton asked. “We hope that the vote is defeated, which is why we’ve been meeting with several members who haven’t made up their minds yet. But if the bill passes, we’ll have to live with it. Somehow.”
“And what would you consider appropriate steps to take if you hope to change the minds of those members who have already decided in favor of the bill?”
Broughton’s eyes narrowed. “What are you implying, Major Collyard? Just what are you accusing us of?”
Broughton seemed to be the one who had the most to lose if the bill passed. He was the one who seemed to lead the charge to defeat the bill.
Frank turned to Tillie’s father and held out his hand.
Lord Dunstan reached into his jacket and removed the letters.
Frank handed the first letter to Lord Broughton. �
��Would you consider this appropriate?”
Lord Broughton read the letter and his eyes opened wide. Shock and disbelief were obvious.
Frank felt a sinking sensation. They’d surmised wrong. From the expression on Broughton’s face it was apparent that he knew nothing about the letter.
“What is it, Broughton?” Derwin asked.
Broughton handed the letter to Derwin.
Lord Derwin’s face paled when he read the letter. He appeared even more shocked than Broughton.
“When did you get this?” Broughton asked.
“Several weeks ago,” Dunstan answered.
“Have you received any since?”
“Yes, another one came about two weeks later.”
“May I see it?”
Lord Dunstan handed Broughton the second letter.
“Bloody hell!” he said when he read it. “Whoever had the gall to write this has threatened your daughter! It’s shameless!”
“Yes,” Tillie’s father answered.
When Broughton finished reading the letter, he handed it to Derwin.
“No wonder you planned an event that would bring us all together,” Broughton said. “Did you actually believe we might be responsible for the letters?”
Tillie’s father shook his head. “It was impossible to know. I couldn’t imagine that either of you might be behind this, but I hoped you might shed some light…”
Tillie’s father swiped a hand down his face. Frank could tell this was difficult for him. He’d put all his eggs in this basket, and to find out Broughton wasn’t involved was a huge disappointment. He knew Broughton and Derwin, knew how to negotiate with them. Someone else might not be as approachable.
“Do either of you have any idea who might be behind these threats?” George asked. It was obvious he was as disappointed as his father. He wanted answers as desperately as the rest of them did.
“I can’t imagine that anyone would resort to such a tactic as this,” Lord Broughton said. “Can you, Derwin?” Broughton turned his gaze to the man sitting beside him.
Frank studied Lord Derwin and for the first time he noticed how the color had drained from his face.
“Are you well, my lord?” Frank asked. He stepped closer to where Derwin sat. “Is something wrong?”
The Earl of Derwin slowly lifted his head. He held out the letter Broughton had given him, but the paper was now a crumpled wad in his hand.
“Do you know who wrote the letter, Lord Derwin?” Frank asked. “Did you write the letter?”
Lord Derwin slowly shook his head as he tightened his fist around the crumpled letter.
“But you know who did, don’t you?”
Derwin slowly nodded in the affirmative. Then he lifted his head.
His watery gaze met Frank’s. All color was absent from his face.
“Would you like me to call for your wife, Derwin?” Tillie’s father asked. Frank obviously wasn’t the only one concerned for Derwin’s health.
“No. No! Martha must never know. It will kill her.”
“Who wrote the letter?” Frank asked again. Based on something Lady Corrine had said during their sleigh ride, Frank thought he knew, but he needed Derwin to confirm his suspicion. “Was it your grandson?”
Derwin shot him a look of pure panic. “I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it. Jameson is a good boy. He would never harm anyone. I know he wouldn’t. He must have taken our discussions, our very…unguarded discussions, to heart and misjudged our intent. We would never resort to violence. This is all a horrible mistake.” Derwin lowered his eyes as he shook his head slowly. “A horrible mistake. A horrible mistake.”
George went to the sidebar and brought back the decanter of brandy. He added a splash to each glass. The men in the room were silent as they drank their liquor. No one spoke until the glasses were empty.
“What are you going to do?” Derwin asked. His voice shook when he spoke. “What will happen to my grandson?”
Lord Dunstan didn’t answer for several moments.
Frank saw how difficult this was for Tillie’s father as he lifted his head and looked to each one in the room: to his son George, to Lord Beckett, to Lord Broughton, and finally to Frank.
“Do you have an idea how we should handle this?” he said to no one in particular.
No one spoke.
“Has your grandson done this kind of thing before?” Frank asked Lord Derwin.
“No. Never! He’s a good boy. He’s lived in our home since he was nine, when my son and his wife were killed in a carriage accident. He’s never caused us a bit of trouble. Never. Oh, he enjoys his cards and liquor as much as any lad his age, but his debts have actually been modest. I tell you, he’s a level-headed fellow when it comes to business. I can’t believe he did this. But the writing is his.”
Frank rose to his feet and paced the room. It was impossible for any of them to know how serious Derwin’s grandson was in his threats until they met him. Until they talked to him.
“If you wrote your grandson, would he agree to come here for the ball?”
“Yes, I’m sure I could convince him to attend. But—”
“Then please, send him a message this afternoon,” Frank said.
“Would you mind if I took a moment to compose myself first?” Lord Derwin asked. “I won’t need long. Just a little while to rest.”
“Of course,” Frank answered. He turned to George. “Would you accompany Lord Derwin to his room, George? Then send someone to suggest to Lady Derwin that her husband requires a moment of her time.”
George nodded, then left with a very troubled Lord Derwin.
Frank returned to his chair.
“Why do you think the lad sent the letters?” Lord Beckett asked. “What possible reason could he have for making such threats?”
“Money,” Lord Broughton said. “It’s the reason all of us are against the bill.”
“What are you saying, William?” a female voice said from the open doorway. “Are they saving a room for us in debtor’s prison?” Her laughter fell awkwardly in the silent room.
Lord Broughton rose to his feet and went to his wife. “No, dearest. You have nothing to worry about.”
“But you just said that a lack of finances was the reason all of the men who meet with you are against the bill. And you are one of the most vocal opponents of the mining bill.”
“You have nothing to concern yourself over, my love. Please, return to your visit with Lady Dunstan.”
“No, not until I know what is going on. And why Lady Derwin has rushed off to her rooms so abruptly without a word.”
Frank stood to make room for Lady Broughton. “Please, Broughton. Invite your wife to join us. I believe she deserves to know what’s happened.”
Broughton hesitated, then escorted his wife to the sofa and sat beside her. When they were settled, Broughton reached for his wife’s hand and held it.
“Will Lord Derwin be all right?” she asked, twining her fingers with his. “He looked terribly distraught.”
“Yes, he simply had a shock. He’ll be fine in time.”
“Good. Now, tell me what is wrong so I can help you deal with this.”
Lord Broughton gathered his wife’s hands in his and kissed her fingers. “Oh, Janice. I’m afraid I have failed you.”
“Balderdash! You have not failed me. You could never fail me. You wouldn’t know how.”
“I have,” he insisted. “What was the one promise I made you when we married?”
“That I would never want for anything in my life. And I haven’t. None of us have. We’ve had more than we needed. We’ve none of us gone without. Why, Lady Derwin and I were just remarking on our good fortune.”
Lady Broughton turned her head and smiled in Lord Dunstan’s direction. “I don’t know if you were aware, but Lady Derwin’s father was a common laborer. A good man with a generous heart, she tells me, but there never seemed to be enough money to go around. There were times when there wa
sn’t enough money to buy shoes for herself or her brother. Or to put food on the table. I nearly wept when she told me how often she went to bed hungry as a young girl.
“But Lord Derwin noticed her. She was working behind the counter at a local jewelers when he came in to buy a gift for his mother. She helped him choose something and he came in often after that.” She turned her head and smiled at her husband. “It was a love match like ours was,” Lady Broughton smiled at her husband. “And still is.”
As she watched her husband, the smile on Lady Broughton’s face slowly faded. “Oh my stars, William. Is that the problem? Are we skint? Have the girls and I spent too much? Has Stephen wasted too much?”
Broughton didn’t answer his wife. Instead he buried his face in his hands and leaned away from her.
“Oh, William. Why didn’t you tell me we needed to conserve?”
“Because I promised to make you happy. I wanted you to have everything you ever wished for.”
“I do. I have you. I don’t need anything else. The girls and I have enough clothes to go through two Seasons without buying more gowns. And we’ll tighten Steven’s purse strings. It’s about time he learned to live within his means.”
Lord Broughton’s laughter sounded strangled. “Leave it to you, darling girl, to take control. I should have known you would be able to weather any storm.”
“Yes, you should have. You should have come to me long ago. Then we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“Yes, my love.”
“Come,” she said, holding out her hand for his assistance. “Let’s go to our rooms to talk this over. We have a great deal to discuss.”
Lord Broughton gave his wife a look that spelled gratitude on a gargantuan scale, then assisted her to her feet. When he stood beside her, he turned to face Lord Dunstan. “I apologize for this travesty, for what you’ve gone through,” he said. “I cannot fathom the fear you must have felt.”
“Apology accepted,” Lord Dunstan answered.
“Please, excuse us for the afternoon. We’ll return for dinner tonight. Perhaps Lord Derwin will have recovered by then, too.”
No one said a word as Lord and Lady Broughton left the room. Her arm was tucked in his as they walked through the door.
