by Anne Herries
‘I thought you were to see to that in town?’
‘We bought some hats, but I think—’
‘I have sufficient clothes for my needs,’ Jared said. ‘I may not be quite the English dandy you would wish for, but I believe I am presentable?’
‘Yes…I dare say you’ll do, but you’ll need something decent for the ball. Hester, I’ll leave that to you. If you need money…’
‘I believe I have enough for the moment,’ Jared said in a voice that brooked no argument. ‘I shall not disgrace you, your Grace.’
‘Enough of that nonsense!’ the duke said. ‘We don’t use titles within the family, unless speaking to servants or visitors. You will be known as Sheldon. I am Shelbourne—you see the distinction? Titles! There’s a plethora of the wretched things, but they come in useful when you have a handful of sons. Sons are important to the family; they die too easily, Sheldon.’
‘I am sorry that you have lost so many of your family, sir.’ Jared frowned. ‘Were they all accidents or is there some hereditary illness I should know about?’
‘Some people say it is the curse,’ the duke said and for a moment his eyes reflected amusement. ‘The dowager Lady Sheldon believes in it, but it is stuff and nonsense. I’m nearly eighty and I haven’t succumbed to any ill wishing.’
‘Grandfather,’ Hester remonstrated, ‘Mama only wonders if it was because of the curse that John and my father died. I am sure she does not truly believe it.’
‘May I be permitted to know how the tale came about, sir?’
‘Hester will tell you, I dare say. Come, kiss my cheek, girl, and then take him away. He will want to see his room and then the rest of the house. Show him the portraits and tell him the story. I think it nonsense, but there’s no doubt we’ve had too much tragedy in this family.’
‘You’re tired, dearest,’ Hester said and took his hand, feeling it tremble within hers. ‘You must rest now. We do not want you to be ill again or the ball will have to be postponed. You have been looking forward to that, I know.’
‘I sometimes think none of it matters,’ the old man said, looking at her, suddenly intent. ‘If I have loved anyone, it has been you, girl. I wish this place was yours by right—but it would probably be a millstone round your neck. As it will be to you, Sheldon—unless you can find a way to make money and stick to it. My sons were gamblers, all of them, though Hester’s stepfather was the best of them. It needs a miracle to bring this family back to its proper place, and I doubt it will be granted. We haven’t exactly deserved it, any of us…’ He lifted his gaze. ‘You lived in a gaming house, I hear. Not much of a one either.’
‘I had a run of bad luck,’ Jared said, not blinking an eye as he lied. It would take small change to put things right here as far as he was concerned, but he wasn’t ready to commit himself to this family yet—though one of them had got beneath his skin in a manner he had not expected. ‘I managed to salvage something before we left New Orleans.’
‘Keep you in boots, I dare say,’ the duke said in a derisory manner. ‘Well, you can’t help your blood, I suppose. Your father was a gambler and your mother came from a long line of them. We have to think ourselves lucky that you are at least presentable. Do your duty by the family and you won’t disappoint me.’
‘My duty?’ Jared stared at him, his expression unreadable. ‘I wonder what that might be, sir? But I shan’t tease you further. Miss Sheldon is glaring at me, and I am sorry if I have been too outspoken.’
‘No, don’t be,’ the duke replied. ‘If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is mealy-mouthed fools who wrap everything up in clean linen. Speak the truth whether it hurts or not and be damned to it, that has always been my motto.’
Jared inclined his head. It wasn’t much of a recommendation in his estimation. The old man was unwell and lonely, that much was obvious. In other circumstances he might have felt sympathy for him, but he had brought his fate on himself. Jack Clinton would have brought Amelia back to England; he would have given up the life he had carved for himself amongst the wealthy citizens of New Orleans and started over if it had pleased his beloved wife. But her father had told her he never wished to see or speak to her again, and she had secretly broken her heart over it. Jared couldn’t forgive that in an instant. He wasn’t sure if he ever would, but he was going to give these people a chance, and they owed that to the quiet, attractive young woman who led him from her grandfather’s apartments and then rounded on him fiercely.
‘You promised me you wouldn’t upset him.’
‘It needed to be said. I shan’t refer to it again unless he does.’ His gaze narrowed. ‘Did you expect me to fall on his neck and beg him to welcome me like the prodigal son?’
‘No, of course not,’ Hester said. She sighed as she realised he was right. He had spoken his piece, but he hadn’t raged at the old man and he hadn’t lied or pretended to be something he wasn’t. ‘But surely you could see that he is frail? I do not want him to die…’ She smothered the sob that rose to her lips. ‘I love him so much.’
‘He loves you,’ Jared said. ‘Has he said it before—about wanting to break the entail and give this place to you?’
‘Yes, many times,’ Hester said and pulled a wry face. ‘He knows it is impossible, of course. It would cost a lot of money and he doesn’t have it.’
‘Would you really want it?’
‘Oh, yes, it is my home. The only one I remember. My real father died before I was born and Mama remarried a year later. My stepfather was like a father to me, and Grandfather is my grandfather. He always loved me as if he were my real grandfather and that is the way I think of him. I have no claim to any of it, don’t imagine that I envy you or resent that—but I do care what happens to the house, the land and the people.’
‘If you could, would you live here for the rest of your life?’
‘Yes…perhaps…’ Hester shook her head. ‘It isn’t going to happen. I have been running the house for some years. Mama always let me help because she has no head for it and after Papa died…well, I just took over. The servants come to me for instructions. When you marry, that will be your wife’s right and I shall go away, though I hope you will invite me to visit occasionally.’
‘You plan to live with your mother or your godmother?’
‘I may move between them,’ Hester said. ‘I do not know. Mama does not care to travel. I might like to see something of Europe. I have always thought I should like to see Venice…’
‘It is beautiful,’ Jared agreed. ‘But so is Rome, and there are other places equally as beautiful. I like Paris because it has a charm all its own.’
‘You have travelled extensively?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘You have been to England before?’
‘To London, yes, but this is my first trip to the south of the country, Miss Sheldon. I was in England something over a year ago. I do not remember exactly, but I had business in Paris, and I stopped over in London until the weather became more favourable.’
‘I am not sure what to think of you, sir,’ she told him frankly. ‘You say things…and then you seem to contradict them. What business in Paris, may I ask?’
‘At this time, no,’ he said. His eyes met hers and he gave nothing. ‘If you would show me my room, I should like to refresh myself—and then perhaps you will give me that tour of the house?’
‘Yes, of course. Grandfather told me to make you acquainted with the old tale.’ Her eyes dwelled on his face, but she could not penetrate his thoughts. ‘Who are you exactly, Mr Clinton? I know you are Amelia Sheldon’s son—and you have admitted that you are a gambler—but who are you? I think you run much deeper than you are prepared to admit.’
‘I have been accused of keeping a close mouth,’ Jared said with a slight smile. ‘I know others find it annoying that I do not confide all my business to them in an instant. I find it is dangerous to disclose all until one knows the person to whom one is making the disclosure. If I told you my secrets, it might even be dangerous for
you, Miss Sheldon.’
A shiver ran down her spine. ‘Are you a dangerous man, Mr Clinton? Should I be wary of you?’
‘You?’ He smiled at her then. ‘You have no need to fear me, and neither does your mother or the duke—but others may fear me, Miss Sheldon. They would do well to do so, for I do not forgive easily.’
‘I think you have secrets.’
‘Doesn’t everyone?’ he asked. ‘Do not look so anxious, my dear Miss Sheldon. I give you my word that I shall not harm you or those you love—will you accept it?’
Hester met his gaze for a moment and then inclined her head. ‘Yes, I shall accept your word, sir. Come, I shall show you your rooms. They once belonged to your mother and the duke has kept them just as they were. I think you will like them.’
Hester availed herself of the chance to change out of her travelling gown, which was sadly creased after so many hours on the road. She took a pale yellow silk evening gown from her armoire and changed in to it without summoning a maid to help her, fastening her glossy dark hair into a knot at the back of her head. She looked at herself in the mirror for a moment or two and then teased a tendril of hair here and there so that the severe effect was softened.
‘Vanity, thy name is Hester,’ she said and laughed at herself. She knew that she had dressed in one of her best things in Mr Clinton’s honour, which was very foolish of her, but made her feel much better. She fastened the pretty gold bangle set with pearls that her godmother had given her about her right wrist, dabbed a little perfume on her wrists and behind her ears and then went along the hall to the east wing, where Mr Clinton’s apartments were situated. She knocked at the door, but, getting no answer, turned the handle and peeped inside. ‘Mr Clinton—are you ready?’
There was still no answer, so she closed the door and went down the landing, down a short flight of stairs to the main reception rooms at the front of the house. Seeing one of the footmen, she called to him, asking if he had seen Viscount Sheldon.
‘Yes, Miss Sheldon,’ he said. ‘He asked me where he would find the duke’s library, so I took him there myself.’
‘Thank you, Renyolds,’ she said. ‘I dare say I shall find him there.’
She was a little surprised that Mr Clinton should have chosen to go wandering about a house he did not know alone, but at least he had asked a footman instead of getting lost, which would be easy to do since there were a great many rooms. She found him in the library, which was at the back of the main section of the house and looked out towards the park and a lake.
‘I thought you would wait for me, sir.’
Hester was surprised as he turned to her for she saw that he was wearing evening dress that was equal in cut and quality to anything her father had worn, but of a more severe style. There was nothing of the dandy about this American. He wore black with a white shirt, but no jewellery of any kind, not even a signet ring, which was a little odd since it was an item most men found invaluable, and a plain neckcloth.
‘You look very…well, sir.’
‘Thank you. May I return the compliment, Miss Sheldon. I might even say that you look quite lovely.’
‘I look well enough. I am not beautiful, Mr Clinton.’
‘Did I say beautiful? Lovely means something else—at least to me.’
‘Oh…thank you. We should not quarrel over small things. Would you like to see the portrait gallery? It will be easier to explain our history there.’
‘Then by all means, let us go.’ He offered her his arm and Hester took it, feeling a little flutter about her heart not unlike the sensation she had felt when he kissed her in the carriage on their way here.
‘I was looking for records that might explain a little of the family history,’ he told her. ‘My mother spoke of the library as being one of her favourite places. I understand she often went there when she wished to be alone.’
‘Did she?’ Hester looked at him. ‘I do too. Grandfather prefers his own apartments these days, though I think he used the library for business when he was able to move around the house at will. He has to be carried downstairs now, and that is why he prefers his own chambers.’
‘Yes, I understand his reluctance,’ Jared said. ‘He needs a chair that can be easily moved. Two footmen could quite easily carry it and him downstairs between them.’
‘You mean a bathchair, I suppose. I am not sure he would agree.’
‘The right chair would solve many of his problems,’ Jared said. ‘Leave it to me. I may be able to sort something out.’
‘Would you? It would be more dignified for him than being carried in someone’s arms every time.’
‘Yes, I would have thought so.’ Jared paused to admire the long room ahead of them. ‘The picture gallery, I presume.’
‘Yes. We are all here. My mother and stepfather and me, though I suppose I should not be, really…Where would you like to begin? Oh, your mother’s portrait, I imagine?’
‘Is there one?’
‘More than one,’ Hester replied with a smile. ‘Some of them were done when she was a child. She is with her brothers here…and this is her with her first pony…and this is the last when she was sixteen.’
Jared looked at the group of family portraits. He smiled at the pictures of his mother as a young girl with her brothers, and stood for a while staring at her last portrait as an unmarried girl.
‘May I see your mother and stepfather—and you?’
‘We are just here.’ Hester led him a little further into the gallery. ‘I was sixteen when this was painted…and this was done last year.’
‘Why did you start wearing your hair in that severe style? It looks pretty loose.’ His eyes moved over her. ‘The artists have hardly done you justice.’
‘I prefer that they do not flatter,’ Hester replied. ‘I am as you see me, sir—and now, if we move a little further, we come to the older portraits. The large picture is of the Marquis of Shelbourne. He is your great-great-great-grandfather. The dukedom did not come to the family until the year 1690 when the ninth Marquis of Shelbourne’s son did great service to the crown, and, already being very wealthy, was given the honour in lieu of monetary reward.’
‘What was this great service?’
‘I believe he married a royal favourite who was with child and averted a scandal, but it is in the family archives—most things are if you search. This gentleman here is the second Duke of Shelbourne and your great-grandfather—and the curse began in his time.’
‘What did he do to bring it down on the family? Presumably he did something awful?’
‘There are many stories, but it had to do with one of the second duke’s sons. My brother once told me the story, but he had it wrong because he thought the duke’s eldest son was murdered. What actually happened according to the journals I have read was that he seduced the daughter of a country gentleman; they were a good country family, though not aristocracy, and the girl’s father was outraged when he discovered that she was with child. He arrived here in a rage and demanded that the culprit marry his daughter, but the duke refused to see him. The duke’s eldest son, who was of course Grandfather’s elder brother, died a few days later of a putrid fever, but he was not murdered. The girl’s father was angry at being turned away and it is said that he took something of great value—a gold chalice set with rubies and sapphires that was thought to have come from ancient Egypt and to have magical powers; supposedly while the chalice remained in the family they would prosper. The ancient Egyptians were believed to be powerful magicians, of course.’
‘Do you believe in such things?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Hester said. ‘No, I do not think I do—but apparently the duke did and he fell into a terrible rage when he discovered it was missing. He sent some of his servants to fetch the man back and recover his property, but the man was killed resisting the duke’s men and died cursing the family. He said that the duke’s issue would all die violent deaths and that they would never recover their former glory unless the
y could find the chalice…which he had hidden in such a way that they never did.’
‘An interesting tale, but hardly believable,’ Jared said. ‘I expected something more chilling.’
‘That was not the end of it,’ Hester said. ‘The gentleman’s daughter was left to fend for herself and, being ashamed of what she had caused, she left her home and wandered until the babe was due. It was then that she turned up at the duke’s door and gave birth, dying straight after. Her child was left on the steps of the house in a shawl as the servants did not dare to take it in.’
‘Tragic, but predictable.’
‘No, but what happened after that was perhaps worse. The duke returned home from a day’s hunting with his dogs and he gave the child to one of the servants, telling her to get rid of it. A few days later she told him it had died. Apparently, he flew into a rage, blaming her for neglect. And then he went out on his horse and broke his neck trying to jump a fence he usually took easily. Someone said that a grey shape appeared out of nowhere and spooked his horse.’
‘Ah, now I see it,’ Jared nodded. ‘You have a grey lady who appears when a member of the family is about to die?’
‘Well, there are tales of certain members of the family seeing a grey shape. I do not know if she is a lady or…’ Hester shook her head, her eyes suddenly bleak. ‘My half-brother was an excellent horseman and yet he fell from his horse to his death.’
‘Forgive me, I had forgotten you mentioned that once before.’ Jared saw the pain it had caused her to speak of her brother’s accident. ‘You do not think the grey lady appeared to him, surely?’
‘No, I doubt that very much,’ Hester told him. ‘But I have wondered if something spooked his horse.’
‘A fox or something else…someone else?’ Jared’s eyes narrowed. ‘Have you thought that someone wanted him dead?’
‘I do not know. I suppose I have wondered, but at the time my stepfather was alive. It must simply have been an accident, I think…don’t you?’
‘It would seem that way, and yet it is almost too much of a coincidence that so many of your family have died young, from accidents or fatal illnesses.’
