The Widow (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 1)
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THE WIDOW
Silver Linings Mysteries Book 1
A Regency Romance
by Mary Kingswood
Published by Sutors Publishing
Copyright © 2019 Mary Kingswood
Cover design by: Shayne Rutherford of Darkmoon Graphics
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction.
Author’s note:
this book is written using historic British terminology, so saloon instead of salon, chaperon instead of chaperone and so on. I follow Jane Austen’s example and refer to a group of sisters as the Miss Wintertons.
About the book: A traditional Regency romance, drawing room rather than bedroom.
Nell Caldicott awaits the return of her violent sailor husband with trepidation, but for once her fears are not realised. Her husband’s ship, the Brig Minerva, has sunk off the Cornish coast. Nell is free, but her husband has left her with little money and many questions about his past. Gradually, as his secrets are laid bare, she realises she didn’t know her husband at all. Can she uncover the truth? And can she ever learn to trust a man with her heart again?
Nathan Harbottle is on a quest to find his missing cousin, but the tragic wife of the Minerva’s captain attracts him more than he cares to admit. He wants to help, but he’s powerless to intervene. However, their lives are destined to collide in unexpected ways, and his resolve to be nothing more than a friend to the beautiful widow is sorely tested. Can he set aside his own past and convince her to take a chance on love?
This is a complete story with a HEA.
Isn’t that what’s-his-name? Regular readers of my books will know that occasionally characters from previous books pop up again. There are a few in this book. Sagborough residents Sir William and Lady Harbottle were seen briefly in The Seamstress, as was Barbara Drabble, whose lovely daughter Celia became a great success after Fanny dressed her. The Marquess and Marchioness of Carrbridge first appeared in Connie, and Daniel Merton, Lord Carrbridge’s very clever secretary, was first seen in Amy as Sir Osborne Hardy’s friend. Lawyer Mr Willerton-Forbes and his flamboyant sidekick Captain Edgerton have been helping my characters solve murders and other puzzles ever since Lord Augustus.
About the Silver Linings Mysteries series: John Milton coined the phrase 'silver lining' in Comus: A Mask Presented at Ludlow Castle, 1634
Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?
I did not err; there does a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night,
And casts a gleam over this tufted grove.
Ever since then, the term ‘silver lining’ has become synonymous with the unexpected benefits arising from disaster. The sinking of the Brig Minerva results in many deaths, but for others, the future is suddenly brighter. But it’s not always easy to leave the past behind…
Book 0: The Clerk: the sinking of the Minerva offers a young man a new life (a novella, free to mailing list subscribers).
Book 1: The Widow: the wife of the Minerva’s captain is free from his cruelty, but can she learn to trust again?
Book 2: The Lacemaker: three sisters inherit a country cottage, but the locals are surprisingly interested in them.
Book 3: The Apothecary: a long-forgotten suitor returns, now a rich man, but is he all he seems?
Book 4: The Painter: two children are left to the care of a reclusive man.
Book 5: The Orphan: a wilful heiress is determined to choose a notorious rake as her guardian.
Book 6: The Duke: the heir to the dukedom is reluctant to step into his dead brother’s shoes and accept his arranged marriage.
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Table of Contents
The Harbottle Family
1: A Missing Captain (February)
2: A Cup Of Tea
3: Coming Home
4: The Day of The Sherrards' Ball
5: Condolences (March)
6: Daveney Hall
7: Demureness And Wickedness
8: Financial Matters
9: Past And Future
10: Secrets And Lies (April)
11: A Day In Portsmouth
12: Benefactors
13: An Unexpected Visitor
14: A Journey North (May)
15: A House In Mourning
16: Two Gentlemen
17: Conversations
18: A Visit To York
19: Intimacy (June)
20: Another Unexpected Visitor
21: Despair
22: A Face From The Past
23: A Journey South
24: London
25: Return To Southampton (July)
26: To London Again
27: A Ball At Marford House
28: After The Ball
29: The Parsonage
30: A Voice From The Past
31: The Folly
Epilogue
Thanks for reading!
About the author
Acknowledgements
Sneak preview of The Lacemaker Chapter 1: A Letter (March)
The Harbottle Family
Hi-res version available here.
1: A Missing Captain (February)
Nell examined her reflection in the cracked looking glass. The bruises had almost disappeared, and perhaps in another two days she could set aside the high, ruffed chemisette and the large cap with lappets in favour of more refined garments. By the time of the Sherrards’ ball she would be completely healed, and need not fear to wear full evening dress. She sighed. Her best velvet gown would do for one more outing, perhaps, but then… yes, this might be the last ball she would ever attend.
But she had made her choice, and would not repine. Her punishment was fitting, after all. She who had been the acclaimed beauty of the parish… of several parishes… of the county, even. Helen of Hampshire, she had been called, and it had been gratifying, even if the epithet did not resonate quite as strongly as Helen of Troy. Suitors had fluttered around her like butterflies in their brightly coloured coats. Would they even recognise her now, so thin and pinched as she had become? If only she could curl her hair properly and afford new slippers and stockings.
No, she must not regret. She had so much to be thankful for, after all. Her son, her home and a husband who loved her… sometimes. She slapped her cheeks to bring some colour to them, adjusted her ruff slightly, then turned away from the unflattering glass, head high, ready to face the day.
The two hours before breakfast were the most pleasurable of the day. With all the other occupants of the house busy elsewhere or still abed, she had her son to herself. Louis had been a sickly, undergrown child from the moment of his birth, and no amount of nourishing food had succeeded in giving him stature or the energy that came so naturally to most children. But when there is a deficit in one quarter, often there is an overabundance elsewhere, and so it was with Louis. He had such a quickness of mind and contemplative nature that he bid fair, at eight years of age, to leave his mama behind him before too long.
After morning prayers, he read aloud from the Bible, and Nell answered his questions on the passages covered as best she could. Then they moved on to Italian, which he had begun to learn after discovering a book of Nell’s in that language on the shelf. Finally, Nell read three of Shakespeare’s sonnets, which rested her own brain somewhat, for Louis regarded poetry as pointless but would listen quietly while she read it aloud. And finally Louis insisted that they pray again, this time solely for Papa, who was currently plying the Irish Sea as captain of the Brig Minerva, and therefore in constant danger, in Louis’
mind, from storms and winds and powerful waves and tides and all the destructive majesty of the high seas.
“When will he be home, Mama?” he asked, as he did every day.
“In a few more days, or a week perhaps,” she answered as she tidied away the books in the morning room, and laid out the slates for the ciphering lesson later.
A week perhaps, and then Jude would be home, smiling and holding her tight and calling her his dear love, and then her insides would tie themselves into knots until he went away again. But she would not repine. There was no point.
Breakfast was in the grandeur of the dining room, since the breakfast parlour was in the Lloyds’ part of the house. All three families dined together, but at breakfast Nell and Louis were joined only by the widowed Maria Delanoy and her daughters, who had moved in after being swept up in the great disaster of five years ago. Since she could afford to pay little rent, Maria had taken upon herself the rôle of cook/housekeeper.
The two mothers discussed domestic matters while they ate, deciding on dinner, determining what needed to be bought that day and wondering whether they needed to order an extra quarter chaldron of coal to see them through to Lady Day.
“We have been rather lax about fires, I fear,” Nell said. “Or rather, the Lloyds have been lax. Lydia is forever lighting fires in the bedrooms.”
“Her boys have been greatly plagued by the grippe this winter, poor things,” Maria said in her soft voice. “One cannot begrudge them the warmth while they recover.”
“Those boys have been greatly plagued by mischief, more likely,” Nell said robustly. “I do not think there is anything much amiss with them that a box around the ears would not cure. Lydia is too gentle with them.”
“Oh, Nell!” Maria said. “She is hardly well herself just now, with another mouth to feed by summer, and she has been very unfortunate with her nursery maids. One must be sympathetic. You do not mean it, I am sure.”
Nell paused and gazed at her friend. Maria was a gentle soul who thought well of the world, despite the world not seeming to smile upon her in return. It had not occurred to her that perhaps Lydia would retain her nursery maids more readily if she were to refrain from shouting at them.
“No, I do not mean it,” Nell said in milder tones. “Something about Lydia rubs me the wrong way, that is all. I suppose they pay good rent for their half of the house, and coal is included. Well, if we run short of coal, we shall just have to eat our breakfast in the kitchen. That would save one fire a day, which would help.”
“Aye, it would, and Jude will be home soon with money in his pocket. Perhaps he will not mind paying for a little extra coal this year, do you think?”
“Perhaps,” Nell said colourlessly, but they both knew that she would never dare to ask him for such a thing.
At ten o’clock, Becky, the housemaid, came in to clear away, and Maria scurried away to the kitchen to begin her preparations for dinner. Nell took Louis and the two girls upstairs to the morning room for their lessons. The morning room was handsome, although small, since most of the frontage of the house on this floor was given over to the drawing room. Still, it was easy to keep warm, and it always felt pleasantly cosy on a cold winter’s day. February was such a depressing time of year, but next month the weather might permit a day or two without the need for a fire. And the end of March brought Lady Day — the Lloyds’ rent money and Jude’s salary. Then it would not be long until summer.
After Louis’ quickness at his lessons, Lucy and Jane were rather a trial. They were docile enough, sitting side by side in their dainty aprons, with matching ribbons in their hair. Maria had an annuity of only twenty pounds a year, and contributed half for her keep, and sometimes Nell wondered if she spent every penny of the remainder on ribbons for the girls. They were pretty enough, with wide blue eyes, long lashes and the sort of dark, tumbled locks that would drive men wild in a few years, but they would need more than looks to get them through life unscathed.
Nell sighed, and handed out the slates. “Today we will practice money,” she said. “Lucy, Jane — you will write down the amounts to be added together on your slates and work out the answer. Louis, you may write the answer directly, but do not say it aloud, if you please. First addition — if I buy three pounds of sugar at eight pence a pound, two pounds of meat at seven pence a pound and a quarter pound of tea at eight shillings a pound, how much will I need to pay for it?”
A quarter pound of tea… oh, if only she could afford tea more often! However frugally she used it, somehow it never lasted long. She closed her eyes for a moment, as the three children tapped away on their slates. Tea… and the best china cups, which were presently packed in sawdust and stowed in the cellar. And her drawing room back again. All the best rooms had been given over to the Lloyds, and although it had been her own idea to take in paying lodgers and it had saved them from having to sell the house, she could not help but resent it just a little.
“Are you quite well, Mama?” Her son’s voice was sharp with anxiety. He worried about her, she knew that, but there was not much she could do about it. There was not much she could do about anything.
She opened her eyes to find all three of them staring at her. “Perfectly well, thank you, Louis. Lucy, do you have an answer?”
“Six shillings. I think.”
“Jane?”
“Ten pounds.”
Louis burst out laughing. “Ten pounds? You could buy half the shop with that much.”
“No, I’d get change. Mrs Caldicott asked how much I’d need, and I couldn’t work out the exact amount, so I decided I’d take more than enough. Is it a lot more?” she added, suddenly anxious.
“You would only need five and tuppence,” he said. “I tell you what, Jane, if ever you have ten pounds, you may send me to do your shopping for you.”
“May I?” she said. “That’s very kind of you, Louis.”
That set him laughing again.
“He did not mean it as a kindness, Jane,” Nell said. “He meant that he would pay five and tuppence for the goods and keep the remaining amount, which is—”
“Nine pounds fourteen and tenpence,” he said at once, before starting to laugh again.
“Another one,” Nell said wearily. “Perhaps something a little easier. I need six yards of muslin to make a gown, and muslin costs one and six a yard. How much will it cost me altogether?”
Oh, for a new gown! If only—
The knocker sounded below. The girls at once scrambled from their chairs and raced to the window, peering down at the street below.
“It is a gentleman!”
“With a red coat!”
“And a great tall hat!”
“It will be for Mr Lloyd, I expect,” Louis said.
Becky’s quick steps were heard on the stairs, then the front door opening, followed by the murmur of a man’s voice. Then silence. Becky’s footsteps returning up the stairs, more slowly this time. There was a quick scratch on the door of the morning room, before she entered.
“Beg pardon, madam, but there’s a gen’leman to see you. Askin’ for you by name.”
By name? Someone she knew? One of her brothers, it must be! “Did he give you his name?”
Silently Becky proffered a card. It had been so long since anyone had called with a card that the girl had forgotten to bring it on the silver salver that lay in the hall for the purpose.
‘N Harbottle, Davygate, York’, she read. No one she knew, then. Her excitement waned a little. But a gentleman visiting was still something, even if it was not anyone from her former life come to rescue her. No, she must stop expecting rescue. Such foolishness. Well, whoever Mr Harbottle was, she would see him, but not alone, and three children were not sufficient protection.
“Is Mrs Delanoy still in the house?”
“Yes, madam. She found some nutmeg left in the pantry, so she don’t need no shopping today.”
“Ask her to step up to the morning room, if you please — without her apro
n. Then show Mr Harbottle in.” With a bob of a curtsy, Becky hurried off, leaving Nell to be thankful that she had not let her standards slip by a single iota. The servants got their uniform quota each year, so that Becky always had a clean gown to wear, and Nell and Louis looked respectable, if not exactly fashionable.
She and the children abandoned the slates on the worktable, and rearranged themselves according to Nell’s hasty instructions. Again, she regretted the loss of her drawing room, purposely designed for just such eventualities. There were so few chairs in the morning room. However, there were enough to make a tolerable circle for conversation, and a window seat where the children could sit, rather squeezed together. “Not a word to be spoken, or you will have to leave,” Nell told them sternly, and they nodded solemnly.
Maria hastened in, her cheeks rather flushed, and took the seat on the sofa next to Nell moments before the door opened.
“Mr Harbottle, madam,” Becky said, in her very best announcing voice.
Nell rose smoothly to greet him. He was young, handsome and stylish, a man one might meet at a fashionable rout or ball. Well-shaped legs, broad shoulders needing no padding to enhance them, a warm smile and a pair of roguishly twinkling blue eyes… all of this Nell observed appreciatively as he entered the room.
He looked from Nell to Maria, and then settled his gaze firmly on Nell. “Mrs Caldicott? Wife of Captain Jude Caldicott?”
“I am, sir. This is my friend, Mrs Delanoy.”
He bowed. “Madam.” Another bow, fractionally less deep. “Mrs Delanoy.” The two women curtsied in response. Then he spotted the children. “And these must be… no, no, let me guess, if you please. I think… the Miss Delanoys and… hmm, Master Caldicott?”
“That is so,” Nell said, with a small smile. Lucy and Jane were clearly Maria’s, for they had her dark curls, but Louis was more difficult to place. He had his father’s blond hair, but his nose and mouth were all Nell and his eyes were his grandmother’s. “Please sit down, Mr Harbottle.”
She sat herself, and he then took the chair opposite.