Hope (The Daughters of Allamont Hall Book 6)

by Mary Kingswood

  “And so would I,” he said. “Lord, that room has not been used since old Plumstead retired. What a clever little thing you are, wife.”

  And she had blushed so prettily at the compliment, that he had felt obliged to cover her rosy cheeks with kisses.

  ~~~~~

  Henry returned home from his foray into Shropshire in an excessively bad temper. That evening was one of his regular engagements to dine at Willowbye with the Burfords, and he almost cried off, but decided in the end that roast mutton and perhaps some pigeon pie would suit him better than cold meat and cheese on a tray in front of the fire. Besides, sitting all alone in the Dower House would do nothing for his temper, but a little company, and the sensible conversation of Belle and John might lift his spirits. So it was that he walked up the drive, well wrapped against the chill autumn air, and was admitted to the house.

  It still felt a trifle odd to enter his own house as a visitor, for the Burfords only leased it from him. His finances had been in such a dire state, and the house too, that he had had no choice in the matter. Now the refurbishments had all been completed and the rooms looked exactly as they should, which was very pleasing, but he still felt a pang seeing his own furniture, his pictures and even his servants here. He felt like a schoolboy gazing through the window of a shop, staring longingly at jars of sweets or desirable toys, none of which he could have.

  But the Burfords were always very welcoming, and tonight there were interesting new faces, for John’s brother, Mr Luke Burford, and his wife were visiting from Market Clunbury, one of the several towns in Shropshire Henry had passed through on his recent visit to the county. Not that he wished to discuss his business there, and so he carefully turned aside all questions on the subject. Now that all his children were settled, he had been minded for a change of scenery, he told them, and having heard the county described in glowing terms, he had decided to make a small tour before the winter set in. Yes, Market Clunbury was indeed a fine little town. No, he had not stayed there long.

  “And what brings you away from home at this season?” he politely enquired of Mr Luke Burford as they awaited the summons to dinner, expecting the usual bland responses about visiting family or admiring the baby.

  “I have business in Brinchester,” he replied. “Indeed, it is business in which you have a keen interest, Mr Allamont, for it concerns the final settlement of the dowries for the Miss Allamonts, a fund which has been under the management of my partner since its inception some years ago. Now that the last of the Miss Allamonts has entered the state of matrimony, the fund is being wound up and the final portion transferred here to the benefit of Mr and Mrs Hugo Allamont.”

  “Hugo will be very happy to have it, now that his expectations have been reduced,” Henry said. “Instead of an income of three thousand a year, he now has no more than five hundred pounds a year, with the allowance I make him and his salary as agent for the Allamont estate. Hope’s dowry will bring in another seven or eight hundred a year, I imagine, which will lift them out of poverty.”

  Mr Luke rubbed at his nose, looking uncomfortable. “Indeed. But there is a small problem, and the blame lies, I regret to say, with my partner, Mr Hillsharrop. Who is also my father-in-law,” he added, with a wry glance at his wife.

  “You need not scruple to express your opinion on the matter, Mr Burford,” she said. “Papa has admitted his fault, and yet I do not quite see what could have been done about it, for how could he know which of the Miss Allamonts would marry, or when?”

  “This is all very mysterious,” Belle said. “Can you enlighten us, or is it terribly secret?”

  “Since you all have an interest in the matter, I will speak plain,” Mr Luke said. “In that way, you may appreciate the problem, and advise what, if anything, may be done about it. The fund has the unusual characteristic that it continued to be added to as each month and year passed, and this was not merely the result of investment in the three per cents, which sums would not cause any great difficulty. Each week a sum of two or three hundred was paid into the bank, with the result that the total fund increased by some ten thousand pounds or more with each year that passed.”

  “This we have known for a long time,” his brother said. “It does not materially alter the situation, except that the earlier sisters to marry would receive a smaller sum than the later. Belle received a little more than Amy and a little less than Connie.”

  “Indeed, but this is the very heart of the difficulty,” Mr Luke said. “A little more — a few hundred, perhaps — is of no consequence, but as each sister is removed from the calculation, and the increased amounts are divided into fewer portions, the amount grows alarmingly. Miss Dulcie received somewhat in excess of twenty three thousand, but Miss Grace’s portion was thirty five thousand and the sum remaining for Miss Hope is close to fifty thousand.”

  Henry gasped in amazement. “Fifty thousand! That is enough to allow Hugo to live as a gentleman, even without the salary from Ernest.”

  Mr Luke said nothing, and it was John Burford who stated the obvious. “Unfortunately, the question naturally arises as to whether such a division is a fair one. Is it right that one sister should receive so much more than the others? Or should the fund be divided equally amongst them, now that the final amount is known.”

  Henry’s pleasure dissipated at once. Of course it was not fair. It was a disappointment, but Hope should not receive so much more than her due.

  “But suppose Hope had never married?” Belle said in her calm way. “The fund would have continued to increase over the years to become a great fortune. What would have happened to it then? And besides, most of us do not need the extra money, whereas it will add materially to the comfort of Hope and Hugo.”

  “You are very perceptive, madam,” Mr Luke said, smiling at her. “Mr Hillsharrop and I are of one mind on the subject — the will was excessively badly worded, and the intentions of the deceased are by no means clear. It will not be easy to concoct an equitable arrangement that does not disadvantage Mr and Mrs Hugo.”

  “I imagine Dulcie and Alex Drummond would also be glad of the income from a few extra thousands,” Henry said. “What would the sum be if the entire fund were to be divided equally amongst the girls?”

  “Around twenty-eight thousand,” Mr Luke said. “But that presents a second difficulty, for Miss Grace — Mrs Graham, I should say — has already received in excess of that sum, and we can hardly ask for it back now. So you see the problem, and understand why I am bound for the office of the Allamont family solicitor in Brinchester to see how we may disentangle this unfortunate affair.”

  “You will not find Plumphett much help, I fear,” Henry said with a smile. “He is a perfectly competent lawyer in his way, but not clever, I should say. Not clever at all. But I assume that Hope’s settlement cannot be made until the legal minds have determined the best way forward?”

  “I fear you are right,” Mr Luke said. “It is most unfortunate, but your son will have to wait a little longer to benefit from his wife’s wealth.”

  The uncertainty of Hugo’s prospects distracted Henry for the rest of the evening. Having seen his youngest son married and, as it seemed, prosperously situated, to have the Hall in other hands, Hugo with no more than a salaried post and now even Hope’s dowry out of reach for the moment was excessively disappointing. None of his children’s lives had quite gone as he had hoped. Mary was advantageously married, but little better than a nursemaid to her sick husband. James, his eldest son who should by rights have married an heiress and restored the family’s fortunes, had been forced by imprudent behaviour to marry a farmer’s daughter. Mark had got into deep water with a plausible rogue, and was now struggling to make a career for himself as a lowly schoolmaster. And as for Henry himself, he was a widower and quite alone in the world, and that was not his natural state.

  But that brought him round to his travels through Shropshire and the Lady Sara Allamont, and by the time he had walked the short distance from Will
owbye back to his house, his ill-temper had returned in full force. What was he to do? He could hardly ignore what he had learned, but it may be that she could provide some explanation beyond the obvious. Certainly he must give her the chance to do so.

  As soon as he had breakfasted the following morning, he sent for his horse and rode as fast as the muddy fields allowed to Allamont Hall. Outside the Dower House, he jumped to the ground, tossed his horse’s reins over a convenient bush and strode to the front door. His impatient ringing and knocking was answered by a familiar face.

  “Young? What are you doing here? I thought you were a permanent fixture at the main house.”

  “Mr Ernest Allamont preferred to engage a new butler, sir.”

  “Good God! How long have you been at the Hall, Young?”

  “It is thirty nine years, sir, since Mrs Walter Allamont engaged me as a page boy at the age of eleven. Were you wishing to see her ladyship, sir? I regret that she is not at home.”

  “Not at home? She will be at home to me, surely!”

  “Her ladyship truly is not at home, sir. I believe you will find her at the Hall.”

  “Ah. Then I shall go there. Thank you, Young, and I am glad that you are still serving the Allamont family.”

  “As am I, sir.”

  Remounting his horse, Henry rode slowly up the drive, much of his anger displaced by confusion over Ernest’s actions. What sort of man would dismiss an excellent butler like Young on a whim? It was madness.

  The house seemed to be full, despite the early hour. Raucous laughter emanated from the book room as he handed his hat, coat and gloves to the footman — he, at least, had not been displaced.

  “I am very pleased to see a familiar face, William,” Henry murmured. “You have a new superior, I understand.”

  “Yes, sir. A Mr Corning from Liverpool, sir.”

  “And why is he not here to greet arriving visitors?”

  William made no reply, merely twitching his head towards the door of the book room, where more masculine laughter could be heard.

  “Ah. Where may I find the Lady Sara Allamont?”

  “In the book room, sir. Everyone is in the book room. Shall I announce you, sir?”

  Henry hesitated. Being family, he was not accustomed to being announced here, although Young had usually insisted if there were morning callers present. But Ernest was almost a stranger, and judging by the noise from the book room, there were those present who might not know Henry, so it was as well to be formal, for once. He nodded his assent and William laid down the outer garments he was holding and threw open the door of the book room.

  “Mr Henry Allamont.”

  13: A Question Of Servants

  The room fell silent. Some twenty pairs of eyes turned towards Henry. Heat assaulted him from a roaring blaze in the fireplace. Clustered in the bay window, as far from the raging fire as they could get, he saw Hugo and Hope, Sara, Mr and Miss Endercott and the Amblesides. In the middle of the room, two card tables had been set up where Ernest and a number of men unknown to Henry were engaged in card games. Judging by the money heaped about, they were gambling heavily. His cousin’s desk, no doubt too heavy to move elsewhere, had been put to use as an impromptu sideboard, littered with decanters and bottles and used glasses and plates.

  Ernest waved cheerfully from the card table, without rising. “Cousin Henry! Good of you to call. Hope, give him a drink.”

  Hope jumped up, but Henry said, “You have servants to attend to guests, Ernest. You need not call on your sister to wait upon me. Where is your new butler?”

  “New butler? Oh, you mean Corning. True, I had forgot you are the butler now, Corning.” He slapped one of his gambling cronies on the back. “As you can see, cousin, he is busy here with me. Hope will attend to you, or send for that sour-faced housekeeper. She’s always skulking in the kitchens, never around when she’s wanted.”

  “I am sure Mrs Miller has much to attend to below stairs,” Henry said. “I will pour my own refreshments, since you have thoughtfully brought half the cellar up here. Goodness, this is a prime vintage. My cousin used to keep this for special occasions only.”

  “Pruett here wanted to try it,” Ernest shrugged. “I like to be hospitable towards my guests.”

  “And towards your butler, I observe,” Henry said, seeing a glass in Corning’s hand.

  But Ernest had lost interest in the conversation, and turned back to the game. Frowning, Henry turned to the decanters, but Hope was there before him.

  “What will you have, Cousin Henry? This is a very good Madeira, worth a try.”

  “You are not a housemaid, Hope.”

  “No, indeed, but I am happy to be of service while my brother settles in,” she said quietly. “May I pour you something?”

  “Certainly not. And it is too hot to breathe in here.” He ran a finger inside his collar, his throat already sweating. “This is insupportable.”

  Abruptly he made for the door, but Hope was there before him, holding it open for him. As he passed through, she closed it behind her.

  “It is cooler out here,” she said. “He will get used to English weather soon enough, I daresay, but just now he is running through the coal supplies rather quickly.”

  “Who are his gaming chums? Apart from the butler, that is.”

  “All fellow plantation owners or ship owners, it seems, invited to try out his new establishment. One of them had a wish to try his hand as a butler, and Ernest thought it a very good joke. He thinks everything a good joke.”

  “You and Hugo should leave here while you can. Once your dowry is settled, Hugo will have a modest competence to support you until he finds employment elsewhere.”

  “I daresay we will do that in time, but we have decided to stay at least for the winter, for Ernest has not the least idea how to manage an estate like this. He is used to slaves, you know, who may be disposed of however their owner wishes. He is no longer used to the ways of English servants. After Young was dismissed, half the staff would have walked out at once if Hugo and I had not been here. I do not quite like to leave my brother to fend for himself. His wife has landed on English soil, although at Southampton, not Liverpool, for they were diverted by a storm. She is on her way here as we speak. Everything will be more settled with a mistress in the house. It is always so, is it not? Men can never manage so well on their own.”

  He smiled at this, wondering how it was that the army coped and even thrived without the guiding hand of women, but forbore to tease her on the subject. She was coping very well with the abrupt change in circumstances, and clearly it was her influence which had induced Hugo to accept it so calmly. He had had his doubts about the strength of a marriage founded only on a mutual desire to inherit a handsome estate, but clearly it was working out better than he had dared to hope.

  Taking his leave shortly after, he was half way home before he realised that he had not fulfilled the original purpose of his visit, to talk to Sara.

  ~~~~~

  Hope was beginning to be optimistic about the future. The abruptness of the change had been a great shock, but she discovered she had responsibilities now that kept her from repining too greatly about the direness of her future. Ernest and his wife would certainly need her help to adjust to the ways of society, the servants needed her as a steadying influence in a time of turmoil, and Hugo — above all, Hugo needed her to be calm and reassuring. With Mama gone to the Dower House, Hope was mistress of Allamont Hall, a position she quietly enjoyed.

  Ernest was not at all what she had expected, but he had lived abroad for some years, and clearly he would adapt to English customs in time. His wife, when she arrived, would be a soothing influence on him, and while they might need to order more coals and restock the wine cellar, by the time the warmer weather arrived, all would be well. They would probably want to spend some months of every year in London, and for that time she and Hugo would be the Mr and Mrs Allamont of Allamont Hall.

  She wondered greatly abou
t Ernest’s wife. Clarissa, her name was, and apart from the plain facts that she had been born on one of the plantations, was rather taller than Hope and was very pretty, she could discover nothing else about her or her family. Whenever she made some polite enquiry, no matter how discreetly worded, Ernest would laugh and shake his head.

  “No, no, no, you shall not weasel anything out of me, sister! You must wait until the lady herself arrives, and then all your questions shall be answered.

  It was not very satisfactory, but nevertheless, she began to form a picture in her mind of Mrs Ernest Allamont. She would be fair-haired, Hope decided, for she and her sisters were all dark-haired and Hope greatly admired her mother’s cool, blonde beauty. Fair hair which curled naturally, and a sweet face peeping out from beneath a wide-brimmed bonnet. The sun in the West Indies would make a wide brim an absolute necessity, so surely all Clarissa’s bonnets would be so.

  And here was where the picture began to include Hope herself, for it was a certainty that a lady in the West Indies would not have information on the latest fashions. Even if she were a close follower of the London styles, the journals could not reach her for many months, whereas Hope had the benefit of several sisters who went regularly to London and brought back great mounds of journals, and had subscriptions to several of them. So now the picture involved Clarissa and Hope herself, heads bent together over the fashion plates, as Hope gently steered her new sister towards the most elegant style of a sleeve or skirt.

  How pleasant it would be to offer the hand of friendship to a lady who would have no idea how to go on in society. She would blush and simper and say coyly, “Oh Hope, what a charming sister you are! What on earth should I do without you?” And Hope would smile and demur and know that whenever the beautiful young Mrs Allamont was admired, it would all be due to Hope’s ministrations.

  And so the days passed, and more coals were ordered, and replenishments to the wine cellar were sent for, and letters arrived from a series of inns as Clarissa made her ponderous journey north.