The Ghosts of Ardenthwaite (The Northminster Mysteries Book 5)
Page 35
“What else would I do?” said Felix.
“It may be that your future wife has other ideas. That is another thing you must discuss with her.”
“No, no, she will fall in with it. It’s true she probably does not quite understand what it entails, just yet, but she is no fool, as you know.”
“Certainly. But be prepared for her to be uneasy.”
Felix nodded, feeling the good sense of this. He drank a little more and said, “And, what of your prospects, if that is not an insolent question?”
Major Vernon did not answer for a moment, and then said, “I wish I had equally pleasant news for you, but I fear –” He broke off, and drew a pattern with his fingertip on the table cloth, seemingly thinking deeply. “I know I’m hardly the person to give you advice, but if I were you, I would seize my chance and marry now, her mother notwithstanding. I’m sure she can be worked on and made into a friend, not an enemy. You have the conviction of strong affections and the prospect of much happiness, even in such conditions. Why on earth would you wait?” He got up from the table. “Now, I have to begin on my reports.”
Epilogue
Midsummer’s Day, 1841
At a little after ten in the morning on Midsummer’s Day, Giles left Carswell pacing the Chapter House at the Minster and went in search of any other members of the wedding party who might have arrived. This was a slightly futile quest, for the ceremony was not due to take place until eleven. However, in his agitation, Carswell had insisted on their arriving for no later than ten. Giles did not like to point out that no bride in history had ever arrived early and that it was in fact considered unlucky to do so. It was better not to contradict him, given the mood he was in.
Carswell’s anxiety was to be expected. The road to that morning had not been an easy one. The lawyers on both sides had decided that they could not resist taking the most adversarial stance in the matter of the settlements. Lord Rothborough had taken Carswell’s marriage as an opportunity to rearrange the disposition of those parts of his assets that were not entailed. He had been determined that Carswell should not go empty-handed to the table, but with expectations. It was matter of personal pride for him that it should be so. Yet, Carswell had come back from these meetings with lawyers in a state of embarrassed bewilderment.
“I am afraid of what people will say – not for my sake, but for his. I do not want people gossiping about him.”
The result of it was that Carswell would one day inherit a nice parcel of ground rents in London as well as shares in various commercial and industrial exploits, in which Lord Rothborough had invested. The Blanchfort side had received this with little grace and had demanded apparently draconian conditions to protect Miss Blanchfort’s fortune from her future husband, far more than was usual. This had enraged Lord Rothborough and the negotiations had stalled for some time, causing Carswell great misery, who was certain at any moment the whole thing would be called off for good.
At the same time, Lady Blanchfort would not permit the lovers to see each other except under her supervision. Another condition of the engagement had been that her daughter would go back to Hawksby until the wedding. Giles had accompanied Carswell on one of these visits – Carswell had thought he might have some influence on Lady Blanchfort, or at least act as a distraction, but Lady Blanchfort had not wavered in her steely chaperonage. The young couple had been reduced to sitting in the corner, their heads bent together over a map of Scotland, planning their wedding journey, while Giles attempted to draw Lady Blanchfort out on some inoffensive subject. It had been exhausting, to say the least. She was as difficult as she was beautiful.
Even the choice of venue for the wedding had been a painful struggle. Lady Blanchfort had wanted the wedding in Hawksby for the sake of discretion, while Miss Blanchfort and Carswell had declared they wished to be married in the Minster by Canon Fforde. It had been settled, eventually, that Miss Blanchfort should be married from Lord Rothborough’s house in the Minster Precincts. Lord Rothborough had managed to argue that this would be as discreet as any wedding in the country, as the gates to the Precincts could be closed, and only those on a special list allowed into the Minster itself. Lady Blanchfort wanted no idle gawkers.
He was surprised, then, as he made his way to the North Door – the only door open at that point – to see a woman sitting in one of the enclosed chapels at the East End. She was sitting with her back to him, facing the altar, and a pierced stone screen partially obscured his view of her, but her outline was familiar. He paused a moment, deciding he was only wishing to see what he wanted to see, rather than what was possible. But then she turned, as if she were aware of him standing there at the entrance to the chapel; he saw it was her, and he found himself both shaking his head and smiling.
It was Emma, rising from her seat and putting out her hands to greet him.
“Carswell wrote to me and asked me to come,” she said. He took her hand and kissed it. It was as much as he could manage not to fold her into his arms. “I hope you don’t mind? I am breaking our rules, I know, but a wedding is a wedding, and I could not resist. It was such an eloquent letter, I thought he might even have written it at your request.”
“No, but I’m very glad he did,” Giles said.
They sat down together, and he reached for her hand. “You look very fine. A new bonnet?” he added, touching her striped ribbons.
“It is. Patton trimmed it. It cost me almost nothing. You also look very fine. Quite equal to the task.” She, in her turn, touched the nosegay of roses and myrtle in his buttonhole. “The new coat is most becoming,” she added, her gloved hand resting on his lapel for a long moment.
He had mentioned the coat in a letter. They had tried to be frugal with their correspondence, having agreed they ought not indulge themselves with it, but lately he had found himself writing more often and at great length. Her replies, sent from the Dower House at Woodville Park where she had exiled herself, had matched his. By way of letters they had slipped into an unplanned level of intimacy, and if this had pricked his conscience previously, he knew in that moment, on seeing her, and feeling the instant, settled comfort of her presence, that they had learnt much by it. He felt now that he knew his own mind perfectly about what the future might bring them.
He reached for her hand again, and squeezed it.
“It was in my mind, once this was over, that I would ride down to Whithorne and –”
“Bring me a piece of wedding cake?”
“Something like that,” he smiled and saw in her expression that she knew exactly what he meant.
“How is Mr Carswell?”
“Anxious, very anxious. He sent me to look for guests. You should come and speak to him – it would do him good.”
“Then, of course.”
“He’s in the Chapter House.”
They went together and found that Carswell was no longer alone. He had been joined by Canon Fforde and Tom. Lambert was sitting next to Carswell on one of the stone benches that lined the great octagon, his arm about Carswell’s shoulder, giving him whispered counsel, while Tom was guarding a basket of wedding favours.
Tom jumped up when he saw them, rushed across to Emma and threw his arms about her.
“Guten Morgen, meine liebe, schöne Dame!” he said.
At this, Lambert looked over at Giles and Emma, his expression rather uncomfortable.
It could not be said that relations between them had been easy for the last couple of months. They had been polite, of course, but always guarded, and it was clear enough that Lambert had been gravely offended. The loss of their former intimacy had been a great grief, and although Giles had sought to conceal it from Emma, he knew she had sensed his unhappiness and borne it as if it were her own. Seeing him then, Giles wondered if things would ever be right with him again.
“You may blame it all on me!” Carswell said, getting up and going to shake Emma’s hand. “I asked her to come. I thought – oh, God knows what I thought! But I’m g
lad you are here, ma’am; thank you for coming!”
“I know exactly what you thought, Mr Carswell,” Tom said. “It’s not that it wouldn’t have been excellent if she’d married Uncle Ned, it’s just that, well, Papa, anyone can see, it surely, that –”
“Hush there, Cupid,” said Lambert and came over to them. “Ma’am,” he said to Emma, and then added, “Giles,” with a nod of acknowledgement. “This is –” Then after a long pause, he suddenly grabbed Emma’s hand in both his and said, “The thing is, I am always telling people that bearing grudges is the most dangerous poison – and what have I done but – oh, forgive me, won’t you?” and he bent and kissed Emma’s hand. “If you can?”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Emma said, rather quietly, her voice breaking as she spoke. “The fault was all mine. I did not know my mind properly. I made a foolish judgement and I hurt a good man.”
“But he’s quite recovered,” Lambert said. “I was in Oxford last week. Ned and I had a long talk about it. I think it was not meant to be, whereas –” he gestured towards Giles. “Tom is – and I scarcely like to say this, for we must not encourage him – absolutely right!”
Now he took Giles’ right hand and put it into Emma’s.
“There,” he said, smiling. “You are one of us now. And if I can not have you married to one brother, then it will have to be the other. For this fellow here,” he went on, laying his hand on Giles’ shoulder, “is as good as a brother to me, and as fine a man as you could hope to get for a husband.”
Emma glanced at him. There were tears in her eyes and Giles felt his throat constrict.
“If one is prepared to deal with crusts and uncertainty?” he managed to say.
“That has been somewhat usual with me,” said Emma, with a shrug.
“Then that is that,” said Giles.
“And God bless you both,” said Lambert, now laying his hands on their heads for a moment. “Sally will be pleased with me!”
“Lambert, I’m so sorry; we have caused so much pain –” Giles began.
“Enough, enough,” said Lambert shaking his head. “This is not the day for such talk. Come, Emma, let’s see if we can find Sally and Celia. You too, Tom; and you, Giles, can tell Carswell what a splendid fellow he is, and how although it may seem a little terrifying just now, when the moment arrives, he will quite understand what he is about!”
-o-
“She did say,” Major Vernon said to Felix when they were alone together, “that it was a fine letter that made her break our agreement – I’m in your debt.”
“You should have seen the letter she wrote to me first – about our engagement. I could not refuse her anything after such a letter.”
“She asked to come?”
“No, of course not,” said Felix. “It was simply that I felt she had to be here. For my sake, as much as anything. And would you not have – sooner or later – broken that agreement yourself?”
“I was intending to go to Whithorne after you had left for your wedding journey, yes,” Major Vernon said.
“I thought right, then?”
“You did indeed.”
“Then I am capable of reason and good judgement,” Felix said, with a sigh, looking up at the vaults. “Although it feels at the moment as if I am nothing but a quivering jelly who has not one speck of sinew. Why the devil am I so afraid? It is absolutely what I want, and Eleanor is the most wonderful creature on the face of the earth, and I want nothing more than for her to be my wife, and yet –” He broke off and took several deep breaths. “What if I fail her?” he said. “What if I make her unhappy?”
“You will not,” said the Major.
“How do you know that?”
“She is devoted to you.”
“Yes, but after what happened with –”
“This is very different,” said Major Vernon. “You will have time together as man and wife, and the world will see you as such. There will be nothing clandestine. You will be together and you will grow together. And you have learnt from your previous mistakes, I’m sure of that. This hesitation you are feeling now shows it.”
“I wish I had your faith in myself. How can one know, though, truly –”
“One cannot,” Major Vernon said. “And of course a woman’s devotion is a powerful, even a terrifying, thing, and we are wise to be humble in the face of it, but it is only half the business. Your feelings for her will keep you straight, I’m sure.”
“Nothing will be the same after this,” Felix said, “that is for certain.”
“No,” said Major Vernon. “But otherwise, surely we would grow stale?” Felix nodded and began to tug his cravat, wishing he might be free of it. He was not wearing a stitch of comfortable old clothing – everything was new for the day, and it felt very strange, even the wedding shirt his mother had sewn for him. “And soon enough, you will be giving me good advice in a similar situation, if you would care to, that is?”
“I should be honoured, and I dare say you’ll have less of a fuss about settlements and so forth.”
“I have not even told my brother yet. I suppose Sally may have hinted something to him.”
“He’s not likely to object, is he?” said Felix. “How could anyone object to Mrs Maitland?”
“John is a strange fellow at the best of times,” said Major Vernon. “One can never tell how – but I’m sure you are right, if anyone can charm him, it is –” he paused for a moment and smiled, “– my future wife. Speaking of which, had we not better go and find yours? They ought to be at the North Door by now, and Lady Blanchfort will be waiting for you to escort her to her place.”
“To put her in her place, that would be more the thing,” said Felix, with a slight grimace. “I think she is the real cause of my anxiety – I do not truly believe she will allow it to come off! There will be some insuperable objection thrown up even as I am putting the ring on Eleanor’s finger.”
“Or she may be quite overcome.”
“Unlikely,” said Felix. “Yes, let’s go and find them!”
Major Vernon was right. The wedding party had just come in at the North Door: Lady Blanchfort in her weeds, Maria and Celia in their bridesmaid’s finery, and then behind them, Lord Rothborough with Eleanor on his arm.
She seemed to Felix to be smaller and slighter than ever. Her features were obscured by a close bonnet and a long veil of patterned lace, and she carried a huge bouquet of flowers that was almost as big as she was. He hastened to remind himself that she would be eighteen next month, still likely to grow a little taller, and that she was also far stronger in character and intelligence than she was in physical form. He also had to fight the temptation to march up to her, throw aside the ridiculous flowers and fling back her veil so he could see her.
“I think we are all here now,” Canon Fforde was saying. He had put on his surplice and bands. “I shall go up to the altar now, and wait for you all.”
So they formed a little procession, according to custom, with himself in the lead, taking Lady Blanchfort to her seat, while Lord Rothborough and Eleanor came last of all.
When they had reached the altar rails, and had arranged themselves in their proper positions, Celia took away the flowers, and Maria helped her fold back the veil; he could at last see her. She turned and gave him a brief nervous smile, and he smiled back broadly, feeling that his expression must be unbecoming. But he did not really care. He was elated. To think that she was shortly to be his! Just as Canon Fforde had said, he was now quite himself again, and he was certain that he would learn to be a better man for having such an extraordinary wife.
Also by Harriet Smart
I hope you enjoyed this book. If so, please consider writing a review. You may also enjoy my other books, including:
The Butchered Man: Northminster Mystery 1
Northminster, 1840: a once-picturesque cathedral city, where dirty smoke stacks now rival ancient spires. When workmen make the shocking discovery of a mutilated corpse in a d
itch outside the ancient walls, Giles Vernon and Felix Carswell are charged with solving the case.
Intelligent and practical, Chief Constable Major Vernon has transformed the old city watch into a modern police force, and he throws himself into the investigation with the same energy. But as he probes a murky world of professional gamblers and jilted lovers, he is drawn into a dangerous emotional game that threatens to undermine his authority.
Newly-qualified police surgeon Felix Carswell is determined to make his way in the world on his own terms despite being the bastard son of prominent local grandee Lord Rothborough. Called to treat a girl in an asylum for reformed prostitutes, what he uncovers there brings him into conflict with his new employer, Vernon, and throws the case into disarray.
Together they must overcome their differences and find the brutal truth behind the mystery of The Butchered Man.
The Butchered Man is the first Northminster Mystery featuring intrepid early Victorian detectives Vernon and Carswell.
The Dead Songbird: Northminster Mystery 2
Celebrated singer Anna Morgan has come to Northminster to escape a troubled past and sing at the city’s Handel Festival. But when she continues to receive the poisonous letters that have been plaguing her, she turns to Chief Constable Major Giles Vernon and Police Surgeon Felix Carswell to find her persecutor, drawing the two men into her charismatic orbit. At the same time, a talented young tenor is found dead in curious circumstances in a locked chapel, and the hunt for a murderer is on.
The Dead Songbird is the second Northminster Mystery featuring early Victorian detectives Vernon and Carswell.
The Shadowcutter: Northminster Mystery 3
Police surgeon Felix Carswell has joined Major Giles Vernon and his convalescent wife, Laura, for a few days in the elegant spa town of Stanegate – it’s a welcome holiday from the summer stench of Northminster. But no sooner has he arrived than a Spanish colonial gentleman, dying of consumption, requires his urgent care, while Major Vernon is called away to Lord Rothborough’s country house, where a lady’s maid has been found drowned in a secluded pool.