Echoes of a Promise

by Ashleigh Bingham

  She wrote back to say that it was impossible for her to leave Devon yet as it was clear to everyone that Lady Honoria Woolcott’s life was gently slipping away. Each day she slept for longer and longer periods, and in her waking moments she sometimes smiled and whispered to people whom only she could see standing in the room.

  ‘I need you here with me, Mama. Please come now because Aunt Honoria is sinking and soon it will be too late.’

  It was her father who replied, and he was uncharacteristically curt. ‘Certain worrying family matters here are giving your mother more than enough to deal with at the moment. I’m sorry, my dear, but you must attend to whatever has to be done for Aunt Honoria, and return to London as speedily as you can.’

  Victoria had never felt so utterly alone. She sent an express to Caroline and Hedley. ‘My dears, I beg you to come down to Devon. I’m sure that our aunt is thinking of you, Caroline, because she often calls me by your name.’

  Her sister’s reply didn’t arrive until the morning that Honoria died. With Victoria holding her hand, the old lady smiled, gave a little sigh and slipped peacefully from the world.

  Victoria had no opportunity to open Caroline’s letter until she’d attempted to comfort the distraught servants, spoken with the doctor, and arranged the details of a funeral service with the vicar. The news of Lady Honoria Woolcott’s death flew through the district, and a stream of tearful neighbours and friends came to offer their condolences and to reminisce. Everyone had fond stories to tell about Lady Honoria.

  It was well into the afternoon before Victoria found the opportunity to read Caroline’s letter.

  Dearest Vicky

  Hedley and I are most dreadfully sorry, my sweet, but it’s quite impossible for us to get away from London at the moment. Such a to-do! We have appointments with various important legal people – all because of a wretched woman who has been looking for years to find an excuse to divorce her husband and is now about to name ME in court for having stolen his affections! Nothing could be more ridiculous, of course, but her servants have produced the most scurrilous statements about me which are absolute lies. I’m glad to say that none of this appears to have reached the ears of the London gossips yet, but Mama and Papa are both in a perfect tizz that some whisper of it will wreck his chances of receiving that precious knighthood. Can’t you just imagine what glee it would give Lady Marchant and Eloise to know of our disgrace! Do give our love to dear Aunt Honoria. I’m sure she will laugh at our predicament!

  Caroline’s letter ended with a message that the bridesmaids’ dresses were quite divine. And she also wondered if Victoria had heard the news that a general election had been called, which meant that their father was required to leave London immediately after the wedding and pay one of his rare visits to his constituency to start campaigning.

  Victoria threw the letter to the floor and blinked back the tears of frustration. Then she washed her face and met her aunt’s fussy little solicitor who had arrived to read the will.

  Lady Honoria Woolcott had owned nothing of great value, but she had bequeathed little pieces of porcelain and jewellery as mementos to the wives and daughters of various neighbours and local tradesmen, as well as necklaces to the three Shelford sisters. Would Miss Shelford be able to identify all these items and see that they reached the people named as beneficiaries? the man pleaded.

  When he drove away, Victoria began to cry – angry tears now as she paced up and down the drawing room. She was angry that other matters were keeping her family from being here with her during this unhappy, lonely time. Angry that—

  Her thoughts were suddenly diverted by the sound of a coach pulling up at the gate and, when she peered through the curtains, she was astounded to see Martin Clifford heaving himself down the step.

  ‘I’ll get the door, Mrs Potts,’ she called, and ran through the house. ‘This is the gentleman who is to marry Emily in – oh, very soon now.’ She flung open the door and threw her arms around Martin’s portly frame.

  ‘Martin! I can’t tell you how delighted I am to see you. Thank you, thank you for coming.’

  ‘It’s little enough at a time like this, my dear sister-to-be,’ he said, kissing her cheek. ‘Emily – my sweetest angel – wrote to me of her concerns about you having been left all alone here with Lady Honoria in failing health, so I came immediately.’

  Emily! Little Emily had been the only one in the family to understand how desperately she was in need of their help. Victoria hugged Martin tighter, then ushered him into the drawing room while she gave him the details of Lady Honoria’s last weeks, as well as listing all the matters that the attorney had asked her to deal with before she’d be able to leave for London.

  ‘And on top of that, Martin, I’m alarmed about what Caroline has told me about some divorce scandal she’s become involved in. Do you know about it? Is it really as bad as it sounds?’

  He nodded and cleared his throat. ‘It’s a nasty business, make no mistake, but your sister and her husband have accepted my suggestion that they should leave for an extended holiday in America before the matter gets to court. Passage has been booked for them on a ship due to leave Tilbury after the wedding.’

  She regarded him with a frown. ‘But everyone knows that Caroline and Hedley have no money and—’ Her jaw sagged. ‘Oh, Martin, I doubt that Papa would ever agree to finance this escape. Surely you’re not the one who is paying for it?’

  ‘The whole business regarding Caroline is upsetting my little angel, and I will not have it!’ He spoke tartly. ‘Caroline and Hedley will leave quietly for Tilbury straight after the wedding and board this ship to New York. I have a friend there who is to take them across the country to visit his estate – he refers to it as a ranch – in some place called Wyoming. Hopefully they’ll stay on that side of the Atlantic for a year or two until the dust settles here.’

  Victoria regarded him with awe. A more unlikely-looking white knight would be hard to imagine, but surely there was none whose heart was filled with more generosity.

  ‘Martin, my dear brother-to-be, you must be the kindest man on earth to do so much for our family.’ She fingered the gold wedding ring hanging under her blouse and longed to share the news of her marriage with him. But she hesitated. It didn’t seem to be the right thing to do before she’d told her parents.

  The days following Lady Honoria’s funeral passed in a blur of activity, with Martin helping Victoria to disperse her aunt’s bequests around the countryside. And he endorsed her decision that the £485 she’d found hidden in a dressing-table drawer should be given to Mr and Mrs Potts. By the time the last tearful farewells had been said to Honoria’s friends and neighbours and they were on their way back to London, Emily’s wedding was only two days away.

  ‘Well, here you are at last!’ Lady Mary gave Victoria’s cheek a fleeting kiss. ‘Tell me later about Aunt Honoria. I need to see you in your bridesmaid’s gown immediately. Goodness, my girl, you seem to have lost weight in Devon.’

  Tension in the house was almost palpable, with George Shelford distracted by the prospect of the impending election and the agony of having to travel north to his electorate and deliver campaign speeches.

  He called Victoria into his study. ‘Your mother has agreed to accompany me and I’d like you to come with us, too, m’dear. The Radicals are standing a very popular candidate against me and, somehow, I need to rally more support.’ There was desperation in his voice. ‘You and your mother must move about and talk to people up there. We’ll hold dinners to woo the voters, maybe even have a ball.’

  She knew how much his seat in Westminster meant to him. ‘Yes, of course, I’ll go with you, Papa. I’ll do anything I can to help, though you know I’m a rank amateur when it comes to politics.’ Caroline, of course, would have performed this role superbly, but her name was no longer allowed to be mentioned within Lady Mary’s hearing.

  Clearly this was not the appropriate time to produce Peter’s letter to her parents, nor to rev
eal the ring hanging from the ribbon around her neck. Desperate to tell someone in the family about Peter, she went to see Caroline and Hedley the next morning and found both them and their house in a state of chaos.

  ‘Oh, Vicky, lovely to see you!’ Hedley called breezily from the top of the stairs while two men carried a chair past him and put it beside others already piled in the hall. ‘All this stuff is being repossessed and we’re going abroad tomorrow. Have you heard?’

  She ran up the stairs and found Caroline still in bed, drinking chocolate and surrounded by travelling boxes. ‘Vicky, you poor lamb,’ she said, pulling a long face. ‘What a dreadful time you must have had all on your own down there with poor old Honoria. Sorry I couldn’t lift a finger to help, but have you heard that we’re sailing to America straight after the wedding?’ She put down the cup and doubled over in a fit of giggles. ‘Good old Martin has arranged it all with a millionaire friend over there who – who is probably going to exhibit us in some Wild West Show as a pair of tame British aristocrats!’

  Hedley walked into the room. ‘And we’ll give ’em a damn good show, won’t we, Caro? Might even get an offer to join Buffalo Bill’s troupe.’ He gave a snort of mirth and Victoria felt a wave of irritation at their flippancy. And especially at their lack of gratitude to Martin for his generosity.

  She held her tongue about Peter and found an excuse to leave their house as soon as she could. If Caroline and her husband had always been so appallingly shallow, why had she never recognized it before? Had Peter Latham changed her life so much that she now viewed everything in the world with different eyes? Oh, my darling Peter, when will I be able to tell my parents about us?

  On her way home, Victoria visited a jeweller where the Shelfords were unknown, and had her wedding ring altered to sit snugly on her finger.

  Nobody in the house noticed that she was wearing it.

  Lady Marchant and Miss Eloise Marchant had been invited to Emily’s wedding and were there to witness that, with Lady Mary’s meticulous planning, every detail of the grand day flowed flawlessly. As the notes of the organ swelled and Victoria walked sedately down the aisle with three other bridesmaids, she doubted that anyone else in the great old church could sense the pain hiding behind the carefully arranged smiles on her parents’ faces.

  Last night her father had received the woeful tidings that his knighthood was most unlikely to eventuate, and her mother had just heard of vague whispers starting to circulate in society regarding Caroline’s indiscretions. But throughout today’s ceremony, Mr George Shelford and Lady Mary held their heads high and danced gracefully, like a pair of elegant, well-oiled automatons through each step of the elaborate social ritual required to be played out.

  With Martin constantly at her side throughout the reception, Emily’s shyness became invisible. Victoria knew that it was still lurking there, but Martin’s self-assurance became a shield that protected her.

  ‘Our little Emmie is a very fortunate young lady to have won your heart, Martin Clifford,’ Victoria murmured, as the couple was preparing to leave on their honeymoon. ‘You understand my sister perfectly.’

  ‘Indeed I do understand her ways.’ He spoke earnestly. ‘The years I’ve spent growing exotic plants has taught me that some species burst into flower quickly, while others take longer to reveal their blooms. I see my darling Emily as a truly unique specimen, one which – with tender nurturing – will eventually display blossoms to astound us all.’

  ‘Yes, Martin, I believe you.’

  *

  Once Emily and Martin had been waved off to their honeymoon in the gardens of Italy, and Caroline and Hedley had quietly slipped away to America, Lady Mary kept to her bedroom in a state of nervous exhaustion.

  Mr Shelford spent most of his time in his study, struggling to draft his campaign speeches. His gloom deepened daily and, on their train journey north to his constituency, Victoria saw that both her parents were far too distracted by the pending contest for her to introduce the topic of her marriage.

  While the train rattled northwards, she sat in the carriage trying to calculate how far south the Fortitude might have sailed by this date. Peter had said that he’d post letters from Cape Town, and suggested that her mail to him should be addressed care of the British Consul in Singapore. It was all so many miles away. So many miles.

  Time and again Victoria tried to find some opportunity to talk to her parents, but they remained tight-lipped and distracted throughout the journey. When they finally arrived in his constituency she came to understand their apprehension about this campaign once she’d witnessed the booing and heckling that met her father each time he stepped up on a platform to speak.

  Even Lady Mary’s grand dinners at the hotel for some of the Woolcott family’s old Whig connections failed to rally the support George Shelford needed to hold his seat.

  After the votes were counted and the Radical candidate had been declared the winner, the defeated Shelfords swiftly retreated to Hanover Square. Victoria went back to work at the Foundling Hospital, while George Shelford spent much his time heaving deep sighs and staring at the fire in his study.

  Lady Mary argued that they should get away from London for a time and take a house in Paris, or Rome, or Corfu. And she complained endlessly about Howard Royston’s continuing absence from London.

  Eventually, Victoria came to feel that she would never find the perfect moment to break her happy news about Peter while both parents seemed so determined to remain miserable.

  She waited until they were alone one night in the drawing room after dinner. Her father’s concentration was fixed on the fire burning in the grate and Lady Mary had her nose in a ladies’ magazine. Neither looked up when Victoria entered.

  For a moment she stood in the middle of the room clutching Peter’s letter, along with the marriage certificate produced by the captain. The sound of distant thunder rumbling over the rooftops added to her unease and when wind-driven rain began to beat against the windows like angry fists, the tension inside her became unbearable.

  ‘Excuse me, Mama, but I have something I’d like to tell both you and Papa.’ Her mouth seemed to be lined with sandpaper.

  For weeks, she’d been rehearsing this delicate scene and now, with a galloping heart, she started to describe her meeting with Captain Latham and his nephew in Aunt Honoria’s drawing room. ‘They are both charming gentlemen. Peter Latham is very handsome and he has the qualifications to captain his own ship one day. He and—’

  Lady Mary sat forward in her chair, grasping its arms. ‘Oh, God! Victoria, what have you done? What? I can tell by your face that you’ve been up to some kind of mischief!’

  ‘No, Mama, I want to tell you and Papa that I’ve fallen in love and I want you to be happy for me. It happened while I was in Devon. His name is Peter Latham and we fell truly and deeply in love the moment we met. He’s twenty-six and at present he’s sailing to the East Indies—’

  The horror in her mother’s expression told her that this wasn’t going at all as she’d planned. Her hand shook as she held it out. ‘See, Mama? This is my wedding ring. Aunt Honoria gave us her blessing and we were married at sea by the ship’s captain. And when Peter comes back, I’m going to join him on the ship and—’

  Lady Mary gave a wounded howl and scrambled to her feet. ‘What? What? Oh dear God, Victoria, are you mad?’ Her cheeks were drained of colour. ‘Surely you’re not telling me that you eloped with a sailor?’ She shrieked. ‘You did! A daughter of mine ran off to sea with a common sailor!’

  ‘This is all the doing of your wicked old Aunt Honoria!’ Mr Shelford’s face purpled and he suddenly scrambled to his feet, shouting at his wife. ‘You wouldn’t listen when I warned you to keep Victoria out of her clutches. I warned you that she would ruin Victoria just as she did Caroline. And now look at what that wretched old harridan has done to us!’ His voice broke and he shook his fist.

  ‘No! Don’t say that, Papa! Please listen to me, please listen! You
have always understood me, so I beg you to hear me now when I tell you about Peter and what a truly fine man he is. Then you’ll understand how I fell in love with him. Here, Mama, please open his letter and read what he has to say. He is strong and handsome and clever and brave. Here, please take it.’

  Her mother’s lips curled. She took the envelope between her thumb and finger, then holding it at arm’s length as if it was filled with something contagious, she swept across the room and flung it into the fire.

  ‘Now, this is never to be mentioned again, do you hear me?’ She turned and pointed a finger accusingly. ‘Think of the scandal; think what delight it would give Lady Marchant and her ilk to hear that you had eloped with such a low-class creature! Do you hear me, Victoria? I will not have another word about it! This marriage never took place!’

  ‘Papa!’ Victoria looked pleadingly towards her father for understanding. But when she saw none, her dismay flamed into anger. ‘You have always been the one person I thought would never abandon me. Papa, I thought you loved me!’

  She unfolded the marriage certificate and held it towards him. ‘Well, look at this. Look, look! No matter what Mama might say, here is the proof that my marriage certainly did take place! This document shows that I am the lawfully wedded wife of Peter Latham, Master Mariner, and here are the signatures of eighteen witnesses who will testify to having seen us make our vows. It’s a perfectly legal certificate and any court will agree, as you know.’

  ‘No!’ Her mother’s eyes filled with venom. ‘No, no, no!’ She rushed forward, snatched the paper, tore it, screwed the pieces into a ball and threw it, too, into the fire. ‘Now where is the proof that you’re married, you shameful creature?’ Her voice developed a harsh, metallic ring. ‘No, no, no, I will not have it. It – did – not – happen!’