Mistress of Two Fortunes and a Duke
Page 11
As his carriage rolled past the park, a spasm of pain gripped him. He clasped his hand to his stomach. Mack licked his other hand and looked up at him with the sorrowful, pouched eyes of a bloodhound. Rutherford smiled at her weakly, then lay down on his side and propped his head on the carriage blanket. He would look into Screwe later. For now he would try to sleep and wait as long as he could to take his next dose, so that he might take it closer to his arrival.
Rutherford preferred not to show up at his uncle's soaked in cold sweat and looking like he too was near to death.
Chapter 23
Tilly sat in an overstuffed indigo chair, sipping her third joyless cup of bitter tea and wishing her headache would recede. She did not desire to read any more letters, for her eyes were sore. She rubbed the lump on her head. The swelling had at least gone down. Perhaps tomorrow she might be able to set aside the turbans.
The last letter in the pile was from Lydia. Tilly had a sense of foreboding. What if Lydia were writing to inform Tilly that she was ending the acquaintance? Tilly felt blue devilled at the very thought of it. She had picked a horrid time to stop eating sugar, and Rutherford was a ruddy bastard for extracting the promise from her.
She winced and picked up the letter from the table beside her chair.
Dearest Tilly,
I am now in my confinement, much to the relief of Thomas, though he cannot stop clucking about me like a hen with one chick. I am no longer home to anyone, except family, for I am so big that even my empire waists cannot conceal it. It really was scandalous of me to refuse entering confinement until so late.
But I find there is a mischief maker inside of me that enjoys taking advantage of the great liberties I may indulge in as a countess. I digress, however. I meant to point out that I should happily receive you, if you were to come visit me in my gaol as you said you would.
I admit, however, that I do not hold out much hope that you should do so, after the miserable way I treated you when you were last here. Forgive me, my dearest friend. I should never have let it slip that you own a brothel. I shall also blame that on the little mischief maker side of me. And Thomas' high horse was hardly justified. It is not as if most of the men in our acquaintance do not visit brothels, so I see no call for this hypocrisy.
I suppose you will remind me now, as of old, that hypocrisy is simply a crucial part of surviving in the ton. But I shall not allow it to govern my friendships.
I have since explained to Thomas that I was accosted by Delacroix while visiting the shop. He was not happy about this, but I made it clear that my need to keep the truth from him was what put me in danger.
I also told him that we should apologize to you for acting so affronted when we should have been thanking you for rescuing me, which we entirely neglected to do. Let me remedy that oversight now. Thank you, dearest Tilly, for always watching over me, even when I am behaving badly.
Knowing you, you will not be terribly surprised at the news I have to convey. But I must confess to being shocked to discover that, not satisfied with accosting me in public, Mr. Delacroix actually had the audacity to call on Thomas at our home. The scoundrel is lucky to have escaped with his life, for he insinuated to Thomas that he had best pay five hundred pounds, or risk public exposure as a bastard and a cuckold. Can you imagine?
I am very relieved that Thomas did not call him out, though I should not have minded seeing the bounder shot for his misery.
Ah, but I see that Thomas is returned from visiting his mother. So I shall end this letter here and hope that we may discuss things further in person, if you have forgiven me for crying rope on you.
Until then, I remain always, your intolerably bad friend,
Lydia
Tilly was at first relieved that the letter was an apology, and not a termination to the acquaintance. But then she became anxious again, as she mulled over the lengths to which Delacroix was willing to go in his desperation to extort money from Aldley.
Lydia was quite mistaken if she thought this news would not surprise Tilly, for such an intrusion was alarmingly risky. So far Delacroix had only gone so far as to menace the women of his acquaintance like the coward that he was. Provoking an earl in his own home was downright reckless.
She wondered if she should have also warned Frederick about Delacroix. But then, she supposed he would be warned when Genevieve told him of her meeting with the dirty dish.
She returned to the parlour to see if Screwe was still spying on her house. He was no longer visible in the park or anywhere on the street. His principal business was probably to make her know that he was watching her. Otherwise, why would he not just put someone else up to it?
Then it occurred to her that someone, indeed, might have been given that duty. She would have to be very careful and evasive from now on. And no more visits to see Rutherford under the guise of staying with her brother.
This made her sad, but at least it would assist her in her resolve to free him. She rubbed her throbbing temple and looked at the clock. Another hour before she could have a biscuit. She returned to her pile of letters.
Chapter 24
The torpor of the dose had worn off and the tremors had subsided by the time Rutherford’s carriage rounded the bend and Blackwood Park came into view. They had been driving beside the vast forests of the estate for some time, but now the expanse of grass and clusters of trees enclosing meadows opened up, and the sombre arboreal depth was tempered with a brighter, more optimistic verdure.
Rutherford knew, rather than saw, that the grounds were bedecked with little patches of wild strawberry plants, which would be laden with plump, sweet and tart little berries in summer. He smiled at the private knowledge. It was wondrous how the child-memory opened, unbidden, like a hidden treasure chest to bring joy to the man long removed in time.
As they turned into the drive, Rutherford admired the long promenade of ancient, noble black oaks that watched over the way to the great manor. The grandeur of this guard of honour was softened by the presence of geese and peacocks, indolently lolling around, shitting and looking pleased with their fat and feathers.
He was not received at the door by the master, but was conveyed to his uncle’s chambers by a very grand looking butler with a worried face.
“William, my boy.” Bartholmer's face was thin, and his lips were cracked as he smiled and greeted Rutherford from his bed. His hair was no longer the deep lustrous black of his youth and had instead surrendered to its fate as an indifferent grey mass. But his eyes still had a twinkle in them.
“Uncle. I am come.” Rutherford’s words choked in a flood of feeling. Why had he not come to visit his uncle sooner? Why had he selfishly permitted himself to believe that his uncle's reclusiveness excused Rutherford from familial duty? He took a breath and steadied himself. The last thing a dying man needed was visits from people made maudlin by their guilt. “It is so good to see you.”
They clasped hands.
“Would you be so kind as to hand me that tumbler?”
Rutherford complied, and his uncle took a long drink.
“Barley water. Forgive me for having nothing better to offer, at the moment.” Bartholmer grinned. “I am no longer permitted the comfort of brandy, nor even strong tea. My doctor rules with an inflexible despotism.”
Rutherford permitted himself a chuckle. “I should imagine he has your best interests in mind.”
“I suppose. He has kept me alive this long, beyond all reasonable expectation.” Bartholmer flapped his hand downward to set aside the topic. “In any case, the servants will bring proper refreshments for you shortly.”
“Do not think on it. It was not such a long journey, and it would be perverse for me to glut myself in front of you while you sip barley water.”
“Hah!” The old man shook his head. “Watching others enjoy their meat is one of the few pleasures left to me. That and a delightful young lady who comes to read to me in the evenings to help me sleep. Lovely voice. Very sweet.”
“Ah.” His uncle shook his head. “I see the look on your face. There is no romance in the air to threaten your inheritance, not to worry.”
“I hope you do not think—” Rutherford was mortified that he had given this impression.
His uncle lifted a finger pre-emptively. “As we have not seen each other for so many years, I shall forgive you for thinking me soft in the head. However, I must protect Miss Colling's reputation and assert that there is not the faintest hint of what you fear.”
“It pains me to confess it, uncle, but I believe my mind instantly went to the worst possibility only to escape my own guilt. For here is this young woman, who is no relation to you, attending to you so kindly, spending her own vision reading to you by candlelight in your dark hours. Whereas, in all these years I could not be troubled to come visit my own uncle. I flinch at the comparison.”
He chuckled. “You are so serious. Just like your father.”
“I do not deserve the praise or the simile. Among my friends I am not reckoned to be a serious character.”
“All the better.” Bartholmer raised a grizzled brow. “True, you must not torture yourself, William. I did not seek out your company either, and a better uncle would have done so when you lost your parents. I told myself you would be better off in the care of your aunt, for I was no company for a child. I have lived as a crusty old hermit by choice—though now I can see that may have been a bad choice. That is why I would most earnestly talk to you now.”
Just then the servants entered and began to move furniture about, to make room for a table. As they cleared away boxes and bottles from a low table at the foot of the earl's bed, Rutherford's eye alighted on a familiar bottle. It called to him. He clenched his fists and averted his gaze. It disgusted him how far this evil worm had worked its way into his soul.
When he was seated at a table laden with all manner of dishes Rutherford watched guiltily as his uncle ate gruel. He put aside his own feelings and asked, “So which are your favourites, Uncle, that I might enjoy them on your behalf?”
The old man laughed. “I see you are still the cheeky one. But very well, some of those oysters to start, then that red soup with the fresh bread. Then you must have some of the roasted pork and the poached fish, and white cake with dried fruit and sweetened cream.”
As Rutherford obliged him, his uncle watched and delightedly slurped his gruel. At least the food was excellent, even if Rutherford were forced by circumstances to eat more of it than he was accustomed to. He was not, for example, terribly fond of puddings. But it was the least he could do for his uncle.
“I must say, my gruel has never tasted better.” His uncle tapped a crisp white serviette to his lips. “Now as to the reason I have summoned you all this way... I suppose I should get down to business. I shall have to rest soon.”
Rutherford inclined his head. “Very well. How may I ease your mind, Uncle?”
“I believe I may ease yours. The estate, as you know, consists of an entail, which passes to you by law. You shall be the next Duke of Bartholmer, not to worry.” He laughed and his breath rattled in his lungs. “There is not any olive branch about to sprout up unexpectedly in Miss Colling's garden.
Rutherford shook his head. “I believe you, Uncle. My mind is quite at ease. And indeed, I must confess that I view the possibility of becoming a duke with no small degree of apprehension.”
“You will get used to it. And you will be a better duke than I, for I am sure a handsome young rake like you has a great deal of practice siring progeny.” He cackled again.
“Practice, yes. But at the moment the only line I lay claim to is a future brood of champion pointers.”
“Delightful! I wish I should be able to see them.”
“You may meet their mother later, if your doctor will permit it, for I have brought her with me.”
“I should be delighted! But back to your inheritance. It is also my intention to leave you the rest of my estate.”
Rutherford felt uncomfortable. He did not need the money, and he was not a greedy man. He was growing fonder of his uncle by the minute, and would happily trade the inheritance to keep the old duke in this mortal world a few more years. He swallowed. “I do not deserve this kindness. You must have some instruction you wish to give me. Tell me what office you would lay upon me.”
“Only this, that you will try as best you can to add to the fortune, instead of frittering it away. It is what will support the family seat when bad decisions are made by some future beefwit descendent of yours—and believe me, they inevitably visit a few generations of every family.”
“I hope you are wrong, but your words have the ring of truth, I am afraid.”
His uncle took a long drink of barley water, then continued. “The fortune is large. I should prefer to see it go to good use than to covering idiotic gambling debts. And some of it shall be made over to a trust to the benefit and maintenance of the family seat in bad times. But the bulk will be in your hands. However, I have been thinking of the people whom I have most relied upon in these past difficult years. The servants, my steward and, most recently, Miss Colling.”
Rutherford nodded and leaned in. “You should like me to do something for them.”
“There is already a trust for the servants and steward, to provide an annuity when they are beyond working years. I hope you will administer it justly. But now I do not wish to attempt redrafting my will at this late date. Can I rely on your good character to provide protection and a reasonable living for Miss Colling? She is clever and would make an excellent governess, for example.”
“I shall be sure to look out for her wellbeing, and provide for her generously, Uncle.”
“And will you keep on the servants?”
“Of course. I see no reason why they should not stay employed here. They know the running of the household and the estate farms. I shall, in particular, be very desirous to have a reliable steward. However, if I feel the need to dismiss anyone simply because I do not need them, I shall be certain to set them up a reasonable annuity and give them good references. Would that suffice?”
“Yes, yes. Only you may not dismiss the butler, Sandes. He comes with the house, I am afraid.”
“I should not dream of going against your wishes, then.” Rutherford laughed. “Though it will make my own butler unhappy. He is not just my butler, but also my personal valet and general worrier. He is rather possessive.”
“Yes, they can become almost officious, can they not?” The old man's eyes were drooping. “I am sorry, my nephew. But it is time for me to rest.” He gestured to a novel that sat on the windowsill. “Will you indulge an old man and read to me from that book over there? Miss Colling always leaves off at the best parts. She says if she leaves me in suspense I shall live longer.” He laughed.
Rutherford's heart clenched. He so wanted this man to live longer. He picked up the book. “It would be my great honour to read to you, and I shall try to benefit from Miss Colling's example and leave you tottering on the most excruciating point of suspense I can find.”
Chapter 25
As Tilly seated herself in the Aldley parlour, she remarked that the table of sweets was no more to be seen. It was at the same time a disappointment and a relief.
She stood as Lord Aldley entered. They greeted one another awkwardly.
“Miss Ravelsham. Thank you for waiting upon me.” His smile seemed nervous.
“It was my pleasure, Lord Aldley, but why can I not see Lydia directly? She is not unwell, I hope.” She had seemed healthy at their last meeting, but things could change quickly with a pregnancy.
“No.” He huffed and swallowed. “She is doing well, but the labour has started.” He put out a hand to restrain Tilly from running to see Lydia.
Tilly wa
s animated with nervous energy. “I must go to her, my lord. Has she not asked for me?”
“Of course you shall see her. And it is early yet. Only I must speak with you first. It is subject matter that I do not wish to distress my wife with at this time.”
Tilly allowed herself to be seated. Lord Aldley sat across from her.
“What is it you wish to discuss, my lord?”
“First, I am aware that I must apologize.”
Tilly shook her head, “There is no need, my lord. I understand why you reacted as you did when last we spoke. I hope Lydia has clarified matters since.”
“She has, but please indulge me. I have been quite anxious to apologize to you since I discovered how much I am in your debt for your foresight on that day. I am grievously sorry for having misjudged you.”
“I accept your apology, my lord. It puts my mind at ease, and it shall all be forgotten. May I go see Lydia now?”
“In a moment, if you please.” He drew a breath and his demeanour was strained. “One of the reasons I am now so thankful for your foresight in sending this Mr. Crump to watch for Delacroix—his being one of the few people of his caste who would recognize Delacroix on sight—is that I now understand just how desperate the man has become.”
“Yes, Lydia wrote me of the little turd's not scrupling but to harass your lordship in your own home. I admit, I had thought him too much of a coward.”
“Indeed.” Lord Aldley did not look pleased. “I am not a violent man, Miss Ravelsham, but I believe I could have torn him to pieces in that moment. I could tolerate him hurling whatever insult he would at me, but to try to tarnish my wife and unborn child, to threaten their wellbeing with black lies, and to do so under my own roof... True, I do not know how I restrained myself.”