The Widow (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 1)

by Mary Kingswood

  Nell was amused to find that the study had a good fire going, and a homely feel from the books and newspapers scattered about, even though James had appropriated the library ever since his father’s death.

  “You still use this room, then?”

  He gave a rueful smile. “It is my refuge. No one else is allowed in here, except by invitation.”

  “I am honoured,” Nell said, although wondering what need James had for a refuge. Hiding from his wife, maybe.

  “Now then, Nell, say what you have come here to say, although I am not sure what advice I might offer,” he said tetchily. “I have no financial expertise.”

  “My need is more for legal advice than financial,” she said.

  “Then you need a solicitor.”

  “I have talked to my attorney, and he directed me to you. It is nothing complicated, James. I only wish to know how I may access my settlement, or jointure, as I suppose it is now.”

  “Settlement?” He looked bewildered.

  “My fifteen thousand pounds. There is no record of the details in Southampton, and so my attorney presumed it must be held in some sort of trust fund, drawn up by Papa. You must know something of it, or else you can find out for me from the family solicitors.”

  “Settlement,” James said heavily. “Oh, Nell… did your husband never talk to you about this?”

  “Not… not a word,” she said, filled with a dreadful foreboding. “Tell me at once, James, for I must know where it is.”

  He sighed, looked down at his hands, then at her, then down at his hands again. “Nelly dear, there is no settlement. There was never a settlement. It was always in Papa’s gift and… and he chose not to settle anything on you.”

  “Nothing?”

  He shook his head. “I am so very sorry.”

  8: Financial Matters

  Anger boiled up inside her.

  “Why would he do that?” Nell cried, pacing restlessly around the room. James’s study was not a large room, so ten paces brought her to one wall, and another ten paces brought her back again. “Fifteen thousand pounds — that was always the arrangement. It was mine, Jamie! It was promised to me!”

  “I know and I always thought it harsh, but Papa was implacable on the point.”

  “Did he want me to be destitute? I thought he loved me.”

  “He wanted only your happiness, Nelly, and he loved you more than you know. He doted on you. You broke his heart, you know. He could not forgive you… I had never seen him so distraught. Betrayal… that was the word he used, over and over. His only daughter, so beautiful, so clever, so much the lady. He had never a word of praise for me, but you — you were perfect in his eyes. He was so proud of you, Nelly. He was going to make a great match for you, and you betrayed him, throwing yourself away on a nobody. Besides—” He broke off, chewing his lip worriedly.

  “Besides what?” He poured brandy into two glasses, and pushed one into her hand. “James, I do not—”

  “Drink,” he said, his voice gruff. “Sit and drink and I will tell you what happened.”

  Obediently she sat on the nearest chair and sipped the brandy. It burned its way down her throat and she pulled a face. It was so long since she had taken anything of the sort that she was no longer accustomed.

  James pulled a chair near hers and sat facing her. “Nelly, you must not take umbrage at any of this, for it was all done in your best interests. You were only seventeen, after all, and barely out. You knew nothing of the world. So when Caldicott turned up and started making up to you and you seemed to return his regard, naturally Papa made enquiries. He was friendly with the Sherrards and the Kenricks and the Brockenhursts, but none of them seemed to know much about him. Family in Ireland, Royal Navy — that was all anyone could say of him. No proper connections at all. So Papa asked about. Well, no one knew of any Caldicotts in Ireland, for a start, so we tried at the Admiralty. Papa has one or two friends there. Nelly, there was no Judas Caldicott in the navy, ever.”

  “What!”

  “It is true. No trace of any such person, and those people keep very accurate records. So Papa determined that he was a scheming, lying fortune hunter, sent him packing and forbade you from seeing him. Well, we know how that turned out. There had to be a marriage, and Papa said at once that he would give his permission, but he was determined that Caldicott would not have your fifteen thousand. At first he refused to give him a penny piece, but Caldicott argued that he needed some money to provide you with a house. Eventually, Papa yielded. He gave him three thousand pounds free of all conditions, if he would marry you and take you away and ensure that he never saw either of you again.”

  “Jude was no fortune hunter!” she cried. “He loved me!”

  “Oh yes! No one could possibly doubt his affection for you, or yours for him, but that does not make it sensible, Nelly. Papa said… he had to protect the family, the estate. If Caldicott had your fifteen thousand in his hands, perhaps he would throw over his work and pretend to be a gentleman and get into difficulties and then he would be coming to Papa for help. It was necessary to make a complete break, to prevent any drain on the estate.”

  “Then I have nothing,” she whispered. “No jointure. I am destitute.”

  “You still have the house, presumably?”

  “Mortgaged.”

  “A pension from his employer? Insurance on Caldicott’s life? Savings in the bank?”

  She shook her head.

  “There must be something!” James said, a note of desperation in his voice. “What of the three thousand? What of his ship? He owned his own ship, and it was comforting to think that one day he would have a whole fleet and be very rich and you would live in some style. It comforted me, anyway.”

  “Indeed he owned his own ship, and after we married, he bought a second ship— Oh! He must have used the three thousand pounds, of course. After the house was bought and furnished, there would have been something left over. I always wondered… So he used the remains of the three thousand pounds to buy another ship, much larger, taking out a loan to do so. He commanded the Helen of Troy himself, and he engaged another captain, Captain Delanoy, for the Rosy Dawn. But then… but then…”

  She stopped. Even now, it was impossible to talk about.

  “It sank,” she said bluntly. “Jude lost everything, and he was forced to take employment with Mr Sherrard, and… we sold a few things, took in lodgers, we managed.”

  “Was it not insured?” James said. “Ships are usually insured, are they not?”

  “The insurance would not pay out, so you see…”

  “Oh, Nelly! No wonder you are gone so abominably thin! And the boy, too. You said you could not even afford the subscription to the circulating library. Has it been dreadful?” Again tears prickled, but she blinked them away. “Have you nothing at all?”

  She forced a smile. “Oh, there will be something. Perhaps when the house is sold and the debts paid off, there will be some money left. I will talk to the attorney again. I am sure there will be something. Or I can find work… if I did not have Louis, I could easily find employment as… as a governess or some such. I could teach the pianoforte, perhaps. We shall not starve.”

  “My sister working for a living!” James exploded. “It is unthinkable! You are a Godney, after all. Fifteen thousand pounds would have given you a comfortable income.”

  “Would it?”

  “Invested in the funds at three or four per cent — what would that be?”

  She worked it out in her head. “Oh. Five or six hundred a year. That is… not much, I suppose, but something. Well, there is no use thinking of it, since I do not have it.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I shall manage, James. You need not fear that I shall be asking for your charity.”

  “Nor could I provide it,” he said heavily. “Papa made me promise… when he was ill the last time, he made me promise never to give you money or a home, for the good of the estate. He was terrified of depleting the
family fortune, of leaving the next generation worse off, and he never trusted my judgement in financial matters. Well, I admit that is not my strong suit. I gave my word willingly, for it made him easy at the end. Not for one moment did I imagine that you would ever need such aid. If I had but known— But your letters… you always seemed so contented. There was never a hint—”

  “Do not distress yourself, James,” Nell said gently. “I could not bring myself to reveal our difficulties. It was too shaming, so I restricted myself to reports of Louis’ progress, or to congratulate you on your marriage or the births of your daughters.”

  “Oh yes, our daughters,” he said, and she could not mistake the note of bitterness in his voice.

  “Two daughters and no son, is that it?” she said softly. When he made no reply, she went on, “We cannot ordain these matters. It is as God wills it.”

  “No, it is as Julia wills it,” he snapped. “After Augusta, she was exhausted, she told me. There was nothing truly amiss, you understand, and the physician assured me there was no reason not to— But she said she needed time to recover. Well, I knew she hated the whole business of babies, from beginning to end, so I understood her reluctance, and I am not an unreasonable man, I hope. I gave her time to recover, but Nelly, four years is a very long time for a wife to keep her bedroom door locked. I do not care so very much about a son, for there is Jack, after all, but I should like a little affection from her now and then. That is not too much to ask, is it?”

  Nell was torn between amusement and exasperation. “You are too easy-going a husband altogether. Tell her the bedroom door is to be open to you or you will break it down.”

  “Break it down!” he said, scandalised. “Good God, Nelly, what would the servants think!”

  “What do they think of a husband who meekly allows his wife to rule the roost? Who cares what they think, anyway? Well, if you will not break down the door, and perhaps that is just a little melodramatic, stop her allowance. Refuse her the use of the carriage. Refuse to entertain. Does she like to go to London? Make her spend the spring in Harrogate instead.”

  He laughed. “She would be apoplectic! Besides, I do not like to… to insist on my rights, not when she hates it so much.”

  “I suppose you are right. Well then, you could just take a mistress.”

  He was silent for such a long time that she wondered if he had already done so. “I confess I have considered it,” he said at last. “Papa had someone in Winchester, did you know?” She shook her head. “He left her money and a house in his will. But it seems so… so final. As if I am giving up on my marriage altogether, and I am not quite ready for that.” He heaved a great sigh. “Oh, Nelly, one sets out with such high hopes, but the reality is never quite so perfect.”

  “Real life is very far from perfect, as I am discovering,” she said sadly. “So — no settlement. No money at all. What am I to do, Jamie?”

  “I have not the least idea,” he said.

  ~~~~~

  Nell’s second evening at Daveney Hall was only marginally easier. The lawyers had departed in a post-chaise, and the clergyman’s family were not there, but Lucilla and Alfred Rutherford had been joined by three more of Julia’s female relatives. Nell barely remembered them, and her efforts to repair this deficiency were treated in a desultory manner. After a few sympathetic noises regarding her widowhood, they drifted away to Julia’s side. The four of them spent the rest of the evening giggling together like a pack of schoolroom chits.

  When the ladies withdrew to the drawing room, Nell settled down at the instrument again. Lucilla had disappeared, but Julia and her flock whispered together at the far side of the room, occasionally bursting into most inelegant laughter. Judging by the looks thrown her way, Nell supposed she was the butt of their humour. The thought gave her no pain. She had never expected sympathy from Julia, and so was not disappointed.

  Lost in her own thoughts, she played by rote. James had given her so much to think about. No settlement, only three thousand pounds which was long gone, since there was nothing in the bank. No jointure, no annuity, no income of any sort. No house, possibly, which meant no rent from lodgers. Nor was any of that her father’s fault. He had expected her husband to provide for her, and he had, for a while, until it all went wrong. And that wasn’t his fault, either. She knew where the blame lay.

  Behind all the money difficulties lay a greater grief. Jude had lied to her, lied to everyone. He had claimed a naval history that was fabricated out of thin air. None of it was true. And if he had lied about that, what else might he have lied about? It was a betrayal of the worst kind, for he was not the man she had thought he was. There was a great swathe of his life which was a complete mystery. If he had not been in the navy from the ages of twelve to three and twenty, where had he been? What had he done? She felt that she had not truly known her husband at all. He was a Judas indeed.

  After a while, Julia and her friends crept towards the pianoforte. Nell at once jumped up and curtsied respectfully. There was no point in setting Julia’s back up unnecessarily, and, after all, she did outrank Nell.

  “You do not feel it inappropriate to perform publicly so soon after your husband’s death?” one of them said, and the others tittered.

  “Not at all,” Nell said. “Music is a great solace, is it not?”

  “I am far too busy to find the time to practise,” Julia said. “It must be easier for you, Nell, with a much smaller house and only one child to care for.” Nell thought of the troops of servants managing Julia’s house and children, and did not bother replying, so Julia went on, “Did you have a satisfactory talk with Sir James? His understanding of money is not strong, and I often have to give him a hint myself, but his advice was useful to you, I trust.”

  “We had an interesting discussion,” Nell said neutrally.

  Julia was not quite sure how to answer that, but while she hesitated, one of her friends chirped, “How kind Sir James is to offer help to his sister in her time of need. Such a generous brother!”

  That was too much for Julia. “Nell is here for advice only. She cannot expect any other kind of help, for Sir James has his own family to consider first. Our expenses are considerable.”

  Nell looked at Julia’s elaborate gown and abundance of jewels, and believed it. She could not resist saying, “I imagine they are, with so many new footmen. The tax on manservants is ridiculous now.”

  Julia laughed, a brittle sound. “Pooh, manservants are nothing! It is the upkeep of the London house and the season, and the entertaining that is expected of us. I do not care for it myself, but a baronet has a position to maintain, after all.”

  “Such a sacrifice, all those balls and routs,” Nell murmured sweetly. “But how fortunate it is that you have only daughters, Lady Godney. Sons are so expensive, with schooling and then Oxford, and clubs and curricles and hunters and gaming and heaven knows what, whereas daughters need only a governess. I congratulate you.”

  Julia made no reply, but she looked askance at Nell as if she suspected some sly reproach but could not quite make it out. One of the others, brighter than she was, smothered a laugh, and then, perhaps embarrassed by her own lapse of manners, rushed to say, “You are indeed fortunate, Julia dear, for Sir James is such a generous and doting husband.”

  That brought a smile to Julia’s face. “Indeed he is, for he is forever giving me little gifts, but you take the prize there, I am certain. Such a magnificent phaeton and pair Henry bought you.”

  “Oh, yes, yes,” she simpered. “I had only to drop the merest hint, and off he went at once to buy it for me. But I think Sarah’s rubies must be the best present a man could give his wife. Such a magnificent set. Her husband is surely the most generous man alive.”

  There was a murmur of agreement at this, none of the ladies able to claim a gift superior to the rubies. Nell had nothing to contribute to the discussion, but it amused her all the same, although it was disappointing to discover that Julia was every bit as shallo
w as she had always been. Marriage had not mellowed her.

  “But we should not talk about husbands in front of Mrs Caldicott,” said one of them with greater delicacy than the others. “It is not kind to make comparisons in this way in front of a widow.”

  “No, indeed,” Julia said smugly. “Comparisons are odious, especially when we have so much and poor Nell is alone in the world.”

  “Do not concern yourselves about me,” Nell said. “I may be alone now, but I have had the incomparable joy of years with a husband who adored me, and whom I adored in my turn.”

  That silenced them. Julia stalked away, pretending not to be annoyed, and the others scuttled after her. Nell returned to her music, but for once it did not bring her the tranquillity she sought. Jude was not the only one who had been untruthful. Oh, the lies she had told over the years! Or rather, not lies, but so many things unsaid. There had been years of joy with Jude, it was true, until the disaster had overwhelmed them. Even in the joyful years, there had been… arguments, difficulties, slammed doors, followed by huffy silences and hurtful remarks, but always they had reconciled their differences with kisses and sweet love. Until the disaster. Then they had hurtled with terrifying speed into anger and violence and fear. So much fear. She still felt it sometimes when she woke shaking in the mornings, before she remembered that she was free from that now.

  But she was not free from all fear, for now there was another anxiety. How on earth were they to live? Would they have anything left at all, after their possessions had been sold? Perhaps she and Maria and their children would have to survive on Maria’s tiny annuity, sharing a rat-infested garret and scavenging from pigswill buckets. She shivered, and her fingers slowed on the keys. No, she would not let that happen. She would find a way. She had to. But she could not think how it might be done.

  Later that evening, after she had gone to bed, there was a tentative tap on the door. It opened, and candlelight spilt into the room.

  “Nelly? Are you awake?”