The Dowager paled at his words and collapsed into the nearest chair. To Maria, her next words seemed illogical, and out of place.
“He was… restoring the Dower House…?”
“Yes, my Lady.”
“No… he wouldn’t have dared, he couldn’t have intended… no.” She turned to Maria, her eyes filled with hate and accusation. “It’s all your fault, if you had never married him, he would never have thought to do that, to plan to cast me from my own home into that old ruin. And if the magistrate speaks the truth, had you not planted that idea in his head, he would still be alive today. It’s as if you had murdered him, even if the good doctor says you did not do so directly. You’re a scheming immoral woman, I know that you wanted my son dead, so that you could run off with a lover, I’m sure of it, and nothing will change my mind!”
There was a moment’s shocked silence in the room, then Lord Chester moved to stand directly before the Dowager. When he spoke, his voice was low, and threatening. Maria had never before heard her father sound dangerous, but at that moment he did.
“My Lady, you are overwrought. I will not permit you to speak to my daughter that way. The doctor who you called in has cleared her of all wrongdoing, and it is also clear that no-one other than your son knew of the work at the Dower House – for my daughter has that in your son’s hand – a letter received after his death, telling of his plans for the Dower House – which was the first that my daughter knew of it. I suggest that you retire to your rooms and compose yourself.”
He turned, and rang the bell. When Thompson appeared, Lord Chester indicated the Dowager where she sat, almost spluttering, as she tried to compose a response to his words.
“Lady Granville is overcome. Please summon her maid to help her to her rooms immediately.”
Thompson nodded, and left the room.
“You can’t order me…”
“Yes, I can and will, when you behave so inappropriately.” The maid appeared in the doorway. “Please assist your mistress to her rooms – she is overwrought.”
The maid looked at Lord Chester’s stern face, then at the angry Dowager and went to her, nervously. The Dowager snarled at her when she touched her arm.
“Do not argue, my Lady, lest I find it necessary to escort you to your rooms forcibly.”
Suddenly, the Dowager’s face crumpled, the anger fading to confused misery. She stifled a sob, then let the maid lead her from the room.
“Thank you, Father. I think that is the first time that anyone has truly defied and directed her in her life. And that is, in my opinion, a long overdue event.”
Chapter Fourteen
Within a few days, the magistrate had prepared all of the required paperwork, and was ready to send the highwaymen to their fate. Given the cloud which had been cast over Maria’s name, he chose to make their official sentencing public. Maria was nervous as she stood, surrounded by her family and friends, in the town square, to see it done. She drew strength from the fact that Charles stood close by, from the care with which he had assisted her down from the carriage, and from the look in his eyes when their eyes met.
The square was full of people, all curious, muttering and gawking at Maria while they waited for the event of the day to begin. Maria felt rather as she imagined an animal in a menagerie must – and it was not at all pleasant. Finally, the magistrate emerged from his office, the two men bound and hauled along behind him by two guards. A hushed whisper of conversation went through the crowd.
The magistrate made a great show of positioning the men where everyone could see them.
He produced a large sheet of paper, and began to read.
“All present bear witness to the fact that these two men, Peter Timms and Bob Abbott, have been found guilty of multiple crimes, to whit, highway robbery and conspiracy to injure or kill a Lord of this land. They intentionally set out to harm Lord Granville, by firing a dart or arrow at his horse in a situation where he was almost certain to be injured. His resulting fall into the river led to his illness and death. For these crimes, they are sentenced to the gallows, and will be sent to Newgate immediately, there to wait the hangman’s pleasure.”
Gasps went through the crowd, and Maria could see the biggest gossips in the district looking between her, and the magistrate, edging closer all the while. The magistrate went to speak again, but a sharp voice rose above the crowd – Lucy Morton thrust herself forward.
“That’s all very well, if they caused him to fall, but what of the witch, with her potions? Surely it was her who caused his actual death!”
The magistrate drew himself up and raised his voice over the loud mutterings of the crowd.
“Silence! You will cease this disrespectful accusation at once. Sir Wilfred Fitzpatrick, a learned and highly regarded physician from London, came and assessed all of Lady Granville’s herbs and potions, including those in the actual bottles used to treat Lord Granville, and declared them all wholesome and helpful. Lady Granville is innocent of all wrongdoing, and I will thank you to remember that.”
The muttering subsided a little, and Lucy Morton stepped back, suddenly unsure of support.
“I would suggest that you all focus on being glad that your roads are safer, with these men brought to justice, rather than on insulting Lady Granville with your gossip.”
Hunter’s voice was harsh, and the townspeople close to him fell back a little. Then they all turned back to the magistrate as he spoke again.
“My guards will escort these men, ensuring that they cannot escape to trouble the King’s roads again. Now that you have seen justice done, disperse, return to your homes and do not indulge in idle gossip.”
The crowd stood and watched the bound men loaded into a carriage, and only moved off once it was gone on its way. Maria and her family took advantage of their distraction to slip away, glad to know that the highwaymen were dealt with. Whether the townspeople would listen to the magistrate’s words was another matter.
Once back at Myniard House, Maria collapsed onto a couch in the parlour, suddenly overcome with tiredness. Her mother looked at her with concern, and rang for tea. When it arrived, Charles brought her a cup, urging her to drink. She smiled at him gratefully, suddenly wishing that she could throw herself into his arms, could feel safe, could cry, and release all of the fear and stress of the last few months. But she could not. Propriety must be observed. She sipped the tea, hoping that her eyes told him how much she appreciated his care. All was quiet, until dinner. They spent the afternoon discussing what should happen next, and, although a little unsure of whether it was too soon, and she might still be seen as running away, Maria eventually agreed that she should return to her parents’ home.
Once the decision was made, Maria wanted nothing more than to be gone from Myniard House as soon as possible. They settled on leaving the following day, for all would need time to pack, and another carriage would need to be hired, to carry all of Maria’s possessions.
They went in to dinner with everyone feeling happier than they had for weeks. Once they were all seated, Charles reached for Maria’s hand beneath the table, gently squeezing her fingers, she smiled at him, and returned the pressure, before removing her hand. Unexpectedly, the Dowager entered the room. They had expected her to keep to her rooms, as she had since the doctor’s visit.
She sat, and looked around the table before meeting Maria’s eyes. Her smile was not a pleasant sight, and her voice, when she spoke, was sharp and bitter.
“I hear that you made a spectacle of yourself in the town this afternoon. Just what I might have expected from a trollop like you. Will you never be finished with bringing disgrace to my family name?”
Maria looked at her in amazement – how had she heard anything of the day’s events? And how could she interpret things the way that she had? Anger rushed through Maria – anger for everything that this woman had done to her for the last year, and boiled over – she would be gone from here tomorrow, there was no reason now, to hold back.
“Obviously, someone has reported to you a distorted version of events. And, typical of you, you believe your gossiping cronies and their evil words more than anything I could tell you.”
The Dowager spluttered with rage, but Maria went on, the words pouring forth unstoppably.
“The truth of it, whether you believe it or not, is that I watched as the magistrate sentenced the highwaymen to hang, before the whole town. And then, when your ‘old friend’ Lucy Morton accused me of being a witch and a poisoner, the magistrate told everyone about the findings of ‘your’ doctor, and declared me unequivocally innocent of wrongdoing. If anyone brought public attention and scandal to your name, it was Lucy Morton, by creating a scene in the first place. You are a cruel, bitter old woman, you controlled and limited your son all of his life. If you had done what is expected of a woman in your position in society, and moved to the Dower House when your son married, he would still be alive today – none of this would have happened.”
“I… how dare you!”
“Easily – I am past caring about you, and your nastiness, I wish you well of it, for the rest of your lonely life. I have no intention of staying here so that you can abuse me as you have since I arrived. Tomorrow I will remove myself from this place, and return to my parents’ house. I will take only what is mine, according to the terms of our marriage contract, and I will be glad never to return here.”
The Dowager’s face had reddened with intense anger, and she scanned the faces around her, seeing no sympathy anywhere.
“Good riddance, I say, to all of you. I will be glad to see the back of you, you, who have destroyed my life with your meddling ways. I find my appetite is gone.”
So saying, the Dowager stood, and stormed from the room. Silence followed for some minutes.
“Well said, sister, I believe that she deserved every word. In fact, I think that you were far more restrained in your words than I might have been in your situation.”
Hunter laughed at Nerissa’s words.
“Yes, I suspect that you would have been far less restrained, my ferocious Duchess!”
Everyone laughed a little too, and the tension was broken. Maria flushed, suddenly embarrassed at having been more forthright than she had ever been before in her life.
~~~~~
By midday of the next day, a cavalcade of carriages stood ready on the drive of Myniard House. Charles was ahorse beside them, his eyes on Maria as she settled onto the carriage seat.
“I will see you in a month or two, once I have been to the estates that I have neglected these last many weeks. Travel well, and may your life, Lady Granville, even whilst in mourning, be far more pleasant from now on.”
He bowed to her from his relaxed seat on the horse, and she looked up at him, her eyes shining with something he desperately hoped was affection, or more than simple affection.
“Thank you, my Lord, I will look forward to your company on your return.”
The warmth of her voice heated him through.
The carriage door was closed, and he turned away, riding in the opposite direction to the carriages, from the end of the drive. He had much work to do, and not just in attending to Hunter’s estates – he still had not found Marion, and his failure in his promise to Martin burned his soul. But he felt a terrible pull – part of him wanted nothing more than to turn, and ride after the carriages, to be by Maria’s side, always, to hold her and help her as she found her way through the mourning period and back into her life.
He pushed the feeling aside – he could do nothing, could not even consider speaking to her of his feelings, until more than six months of her mourning was done. To do so would bring more scandal down upon her – even after six months, he would need to be circumspect. He would never do anything to hurt her, so his choice was obvious – attend to his duties, and allow them to keep him away for much of the time, so that he was never tempted to be inappropriate.
It would be a long year, but somehow, he would manage, and still see Maria whenever he appropriately could.
~~~~~
When the carriages finally split into two groups, hers turning into the gates of Chester Park and the others going to Meltonbrook Chase, a short distance further on, Maria finally felt as if there was hope, as if the fact that she would never have to return to Myniard House was real. She looked eagerly out of the carriage window as the familiar house came into sight, and, when Kevin reached out and patted her hand, she was close to tears.
“Welcome home, Maria.”
The tears overflowed, and she crumpled against her mother’s shoulder. Lady Chester patted her back soothingly, and held her until the carriage drew up in front of the house.
The next few hours were a pleasant chaos of explaining to the staff, seeing to the unloading of the carriages and the disposition of everyone’s possessions, and settling in to her room again – a room that she had thought she’d left forever. It seemed smaller somehow, different, yet warm and friendly, and safe. But the thought of safety brought her mind back to those minutes in the conservatory at Myniard House, when Charles had held her as she cried. This kind of safe was good, but, she admitted to herself, being held by Charles was better. Would she ever feel his arms around her again? She did not know – but she knew that she wanted to, very, very much.
The weeks flowed by, and Charles had not returned to Meltonbrook Chase. Maria slowly relaxed, and became less gaunt, less tired, and less fearful. She walked through the Park, and through the Meltonbrook grounds as well, taking pleasure in the outdoors in a way that she never had before. Having the freedom to do as she pleased was wonderful, and she valued every day. Nerissa was amused, for she had never been able to convince Maria to spend much time outdoors when they were children, but she was glad that Maria was doing something, rather than sitting and being miserable.
Hunter and Nerissa were away for a while, attending Hunter’s friend, Viscount Pendholm’s wedding, and Maria found that she missed her sister, for the first time in her life. But she missed Charles more. She never spoke of him, but he was in her thoughts often.
~~~~~
Charles had stayed away from Meltonbrook Chase far longer than he had intended. Somehow, whilst he longed to see Maria, he could not bear the thought of doing so, and needing to stay formal, and somewhat distant. The estates, and his search for Marion, made an excellent excuse to stay away. He did not go, although he was invited, to either Viscount Pendholm’s or Lord Geoffrey Clarence’s weddings – he simply could not bear the thought of watching others happy and able to marry the ones they loved. Call him a coward, but work was easier.
Still, whilst Hunter’s estates flourished, with the spring and early summer far warmer than the previous year, his search for Marion still floundered. He was beginning to think that he would have to tell Martin’s father of it, and beg his help. Perhaps he should have done that long before, but his pride had held him back, as had his concern that Martin’s mother would react badly. But the Duchess of Windemere was now more than a year in her grave, and perhaps he should swallow his pride, and do the right thing for his friend’s memory.
He would go back to Meltonbrook Chase for some weeks first, and allow himself the privilege of seeing Maria, perhaps of walking or riding with her. And he would discover if she felt for him as he felt for her, or if he had imagined her responses, when she had been so distressed and in difficult conditions.
~~~~~
May had arrived, and with it a vast array of flowers.
Maria was out walking, collecting flowers and plants to begin making remedies again, when, in the distance, she saw the shape of a rider on the road. She knew him instantly. Her heart beat faster. Would he still want to see her? Had she imagined what she had seen in his eyes, back at Myniard House, when he had saved her from the highwayman? She could not know – but, no matter what, she had to see him, and soon. She could not bear to be so close and not see him. he had been back once before, but only for a short while, as arrangements happ
ened for his sister Sybilla’s wedding. She had not seen him at all that time, and had worried that perhaps he avoided her.
She gathered up her basket full of plants and flowers, and continued on her way, barely aware of the world around her, whilst her mind relived every moment in which he had ever shown her care. When she reached the gardeners’ shed she used here for her preparations, she found herself simply standing at the table, lost in thought. Finally, giving up on getting anything useful done, and with no sense of how much time had passed while she stood there, she simply laid out or hung the plants and flowers to dry, and returned to the house.
Not long after, as she sat in the parlour reading, there came a knock at the front door. Footsteps sounded on the hall floor, then Ward tapped and opened the parlour door, ushering the visitor in.
“Viscount Wareham, my Lady.”
Maria rose, and simply stood, drinking in the sight of him. He was as handsome as ever, his dark hair a little longer, a lock falling over his forehead where the wind of travel had disarrayed it. His hazel eyes met hers, and the world faded away from around her.
Warmth flooded her body, and her breath came faster. She felt unable to move, unable to speak, yet she wanted to fling herself at him, to feel his arms around her.
Ward shut the door, and the faint click as it shut remained the only sound in the room. They stood, eyes locked together, for long minutes. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, she knew that she was being rude, she should greet him, yet she could not break the spell. Finally, she managed to drag her eyes away, to remember to breathe, and to gather her manners together.
Rescuing the Countess: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 13) Page 12
