The Widow (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 1)

by Mary Kingswood

  “Never,” she said firmly.

  He turned his head to watch the river again, but this time he sat rigidly, and she could hear his rapid breathing. For a long time they were both silent. Then he spoke, but so quietly that his words were almost inaudible.

  “Nell, I had a bad experience, too. My heart was shattered by a woman who said she loved me, but then gave me up without the least struggle. I waited a long time for her to return to me… or to send me word, for I would have gone to her wherever she was. It was years before all hope of her was finally extinguished. I thought that wound would never heal, that I would never trust another woman. But I have finally come to see that the only way to heal a hurt is to risk being hurt again. It may be that you will one day come to feel that way, too. Not today, perhaps, and maybe only far in the future, but I hope… I truly hope, my dear friend, that eventually that day will come for you.”

  She could make no reply, for tears were very close to the surface. Poor Nathan, nursing his broken heart for so long! Even now, he was not entirely recovered, for he could not hide the emotion in his voice. He lapsed into silence too, so they sat, unspeaking, for a long time. Nell could not decide if it was a comfortable silence or not. She herself was not entirely easy with it, not quite sure whether his words constituted a declaration of sorts or were merely a general expression of optimism, and yet she felt his goodwill towards her. He would never hurt her.

  Then she was shocked at the thought, for had she not been just as certain of Jude? She could never be sure that a man would not turn against her, just as her husband had. No matter how civilised the exterior, inside every man lurked a savage who might turn to violence at any moment, even kind, gentle Nathan. No man on earth was to be trusted. She must never put herself into the power of a man again, never.

  After a while, Meg and Harry began to walk back towards them, and Nell could not help but smile to see them together, Meg bouncing with enthusiasm, hands waving as she talked, while Harry strolled on, hands behind his back. Meg’s enthusiasm carried her forwards, so that she was obliged to spin round to face Harry, and then she would spin again, to put herself alongside him, in a dance of constant movement, while he ploughed steadily forwards. She was like an ever-changing melody, full of life and inspiration, while he had the constancy of rhythm. Yet together they were in perfect harmony, if they could but see it.

  “Will they make a match of it yet, do you suppose?” Nell said, feeling herself to be rather daring in asking, but trusting that she was enough of a friend to risk it.

  Nathan sighed. “I cannot say. They spent the whole evening together yesterday, and yet when we retired to our room, Harry could speak only of his fears for his own future if he marries her. He understands only too well that for a man with his career to make, the wrong choice of wife could be very damaging. Society can be very cruel to those it decides to disapprove.”

  “He is so much in love with her,” Nell said wistfully.

  “Love is not always enough,” Nathan said, and there was a harsh tone to his voice that she had never heard before. “The poets say that love overcomes all difficulties, but that is not so. There are many obstacles that can keep two people apart, no matter how deep a love they share. Harry and Meg must have complete trust in each other and no regrets before they contemplate matrimony, for it is an irrevocable step. Who knows how long that may take, or whether it will ever be achieved?”

  Nell could not argue the point, although it saddened her beyond measure.

  ~~~~~

  They stayed four more nights in Southampton, as Nathan called on every friend of Jude’s, and then on every bank and solicitor and attorney in the town, in case he had left a letter with any of them. Then it was the inns and taprooms, in search of a drunken half-believed confession. But there was nothing at all in Southampton to connect Jude Caldicott to Felix Harbottle, and finally he was obliged to give it up.

  Was there enough evidence to convince the House of Lords? Impossible to say, but his hopes of finding conclusive proof were fading. There remained only the unknown woman in London, whether mistress or wife, who might have documents, letters or jewellery. Felix’s ring was still missing, but he might well have left it with the woman he had supported for all these years. She alone now held the last possibility of proving the claim, but Nathan was not optimistic.

  There remained only Nell’s emotional farewells to her friends. She had left them in the spring with every intention of returning very soon, but now her home might well be at Percharden House, hundreds of miles from Southampton. She was not a woman who displayed her feelings openly, but she hugged Mrs Delanoy fiercely, and the girls too, and even some of the servants, and it was some time before Nathan could draw her away from the melancholy parting. He fervently hoped she would never return to the scene of so many unhappy episodes in her life.

  One cause for cheer lightened the first stage of their journey, for Mr Lloyd had handed over Nell’s share of the proceeds from the supper parties.

  “Ten pounds!” Nell said repeatedly, in utter astonishment. “How can it possibly be so much?”

  Nathan explained the prices charged, and her share of it, and gently pointed out that two such evenings every week would provide her with an income of seventy five pounds a year.

  “They must be charging too much,” she said firmly. “Five shillings a night — is that excessive?”

  Nathan considered that. “It is not cheap, but in the true gaming houses, a man may lose as much as he pleases in a single night. Ten or fifty or five hundred pounds at once. In London, it might be thousands. Many men would play more often, perhaps, if they could guarantee not to lose more than a fixed amount. Yet here, for five shillings a participant enjoys a convivial evening and an excellent supper, and cannot lose more than his original stake, which is no more than the price of a pair of gloves. He need never fear to be swept away by the excitement of the moment. It is a sum a prudent man may set aside for his own pleasure. No, it is not excessive. Mr Lloyd told me they hope to increase to three evenings in some weeks,” he added. “Your income could be more than a hundred pounds a year, although there is a modest increase in expenditure on coals and candles.”

  “One hundred! On top of two hundred! That is three hundred pounds a year! I shall be rich.”

  Nathan had laughed at that, thinking of his own eight thousand a year. “Not rich, perhaps,” he said, “but not poor, either.”

  That left Nell speechless, and Nathan forbore to point out that her money from the supper evenings was trade and therefore not respectable to the beau monde. It gave him some satisfaction, though, that the enterprise was likely to be profitable enough, in the long term, to enable Mr Lloyd and Mrs Delanoy to buy the house outright, and therefore set Nell free of its malign influence for ever.

  Their journey back to London took them first to Portsmouth, where Nathan and Harry visited the very expensive solicitor who had been sending two hundred pounds a quarter to a counterpart in London. He was at first reluctant to divulge the identity of the recipient, but between the transfer of a large roll of paper money, and a casual mention by Harry of his noble patron, he was induced to reveal it.

  When they arrived in London they found a quantity of mail awaiting them. Leaving the two ladies to read their letters, therefore, Nathan and Harry made their way to visit the second solicitor, in order to find the address to which Jude’s money had been transferred. Although Nathan was prepared with another roll of notes, this solicitor needed no persuasion once it had been explained that the gentleman sending the money was now believed to have died.

  “Ah! Thought so, thought so indeed,” he said. “Nothing on Lady Day, you see. Suspected something amiss.”

  “It is my fear that there might be a lady dependent on this money, and now in desperate straits,” Nathan said. “If my cousin was responsible for her, then—”

  “A lady…” the solicitor said thoughtfully. “Reason to believe it to be a lady, have you?”

  �
��Only that it seemed a likely situation. When a young man begins paying regular sums in great secrecy, and continues to pay them over a number of years, it would be a natural supposition.”

  “Would be, would be indeed. Although… well, it may be so, and one would not wish a lady to suffer in such circumstances. No reason not to give you the name and address of the person to whom I delivered each package that arrived, no reason indeed.”

  He scratched away with a pen so badly made that Nathan itched to mend it for him. The resulting letters were almost illegible. By squinting at them, and slanting the paper to catch a little more light, he managed to make it out. ‘Alfred Herbert, 25 Hill Street, Mayfair.’

  “Alfred Herbert?” he said, bemused. That was not at all what he had expected. “Is Mr Herbert a gentleman?”

  The solicitor laughed. “Bless you, sir, no, although he works for one, I imagine. He is a valet, indeed.”

  “A valet? Then… may I ask… who is his employer?”

  “Not the least idea,” the solicitor said smugly. “No part of my brief to enquire, only to deliver the parcel as agreed. Herbert is the latest such recipient. His gentleman has employed several such valets over the sixteen years I have been called upon to deliver these…packages. Several such, indeed.”

  “Sixteen years…” Nathan mused. Yet the notebook showed payments as far back as twenty years ago. It was sixteen years ago that Felix had vanished from society, taken the name of Jude Caldicott and settled in Southampton. For four years, then, he had made these payments in some other way.

  The solicitor, although willing enough to reveal all, had no more information to offer. Nathan and Harry, without a word being spoken, turned their steps to Hill Street. Number Twenty Five was a double-fronted house in a terrace of similar houses, neither ostentatious nor run down.

  Seeing a butcher’s boy delivering at a nearby house, Nathan said to him, “Tell me, who lives at Number Twenty Five over there? A gentleman, is it? And a lady, perhaps?”

  “Lor’ no, sir! That’s a lord, what lives there. A viscount. No lady, not as I ever ’eard.”

  “Does the viscount have a name?”

  “’Course ’e do! Lord Toller, ’e be.”

  Nathan gave him sixpence and he and Harry walked on thoughtfully. Why on earth would Felix be sending eight hundred pounds a year to Lord Toller?

  “Was he passing it on to someone else, on Felix’s behalf?” Nathan said. “He had, after all, been a friend of Felix’s at one time. Or an acquaintance, at least. Although… he does not seem like the sort of man to put himself out for anyone.”

  “No, he is all for himself,” Harry said. “Undoubtedly the money was going into his own pocket.”

  “Then who is ‘EP’?”

  “Edward Pascall,” Harry said heavily. “That was Toller’s name before his elevation to the peerage. There is no question about it, he is the person Felix has been paying all these years. So much money, Nathan! Why, Toller must have taken thousands from him over the years.”

  “Sixteen thousand,” Nathan said grimly. “But why, when Felix could ill afford such a sum?”

  “There is only one way to find out,” Harry said grimly. “We shall just have to ask him.”

  27: A Ball At Marford House

  The invitations to the Carrbridges’ ball awaited them on their return to London. Nathan was not minded for it, and Nell would not even consider it, but Meg and Harry both wished to go, although for different reasons. Harry hoped to mingle with a number of influential political figures. Meg wanted to dance in the splendour of Marford House.

  “You must come, Nat,” she said, “for I cannot go without you, you know, and it will be such a wonderful sight. I shall never have such an opportunity again.”

  “We do not know many people,” Nathan said. “I fear you will be doomed to spend much of the evening sitting watching everyone else dance. Do not expect me to stand up with you!”

  She laughed gaily. “Now when have I ever embarrassed you so? Harry will dance with me, and after that I shall be content to watch, I assure you. I shall find one of Lord Carrbridge’s fearsome aunts to chaperon me, and you may go off to the card room.”

  Having assured himself that Nell was content to spend the evening alone — “I am quite worn out with travelling, so I shall go to bed early, I dare say.” — Nathan allowed himself to be persuaded to go. There was another reason for his surrender, too. Everyone of consequence who was still in town at this late stage in the season would be at Marford House, so there was a reasonable expectation of meeting Toller there. Then he could ask him directly why Felix had been paying him for all these years.

  As their carriage drew near to Marford House that evening, Nathan was reminded of why he had avoided London society for so many years. The press of vehicles arriving was so great that they had to await their turn to alight, and then proceed slowly into the house, crowded about on all sides. There was another queue to deposit cloaks and hats, and then the slow procession through several saloons until the ballroom was reached, and finally another queue to greet their host and hostess before being released gratefully into a room already hot and airless.

  Meg gazed around her, eyes wide with amazement. Nathan, too, admitted to some astonishment at the glory of the beau monde at play. The colour, the extravagance, the dazzling jewels, the constant movement was overwhelming. Harry whisked Meg into the nearest set, and Nathan was left to wander about, trying very hard not to be impressed by the brilliance of the room, and failing. How he wished that Nell were there to share the spectacle! She was used to high society, for she had grown up as a part of it.

  He ambled here and there for some time before encountering anyone he knew, and when he did so, it was Nell’s brother, not a person he particularly wished to meet. There was no avoiding the acquaintance, however, so he smiled and bowed and said everything that was proper.

  “Is Nell here?” Godney said, as soon as the preliminary politenesses were got out of the way. “It is highly unsuitable for such a recent widow, and with her reputation—”

  “Mrs Caldicott is not here,” Nathan said coldly.

  “Ah, good, good. She has not completely abandoned the proprieties, then.”

  “She is the most correct person I know,” Nathan said with some heat, but trying very hard to rein in his temper. It would do no good to quarrel with Godney.

  “Quite, quite,” Godney said, eyeing him knowingly. “But she was invited, I take it? That is good, very good. The Carrbridges are such good ton, it must add to her consequence, even if she prefers not to be seen in society yet. Still, I should like to talk to her. Will she be in town for long, do you suppose? We should have left by now except for this invitation. Julia was wild to come here, for we are not well-acquainted with the Carrbridges, and rarely receive invitations. Ah, Julia my dear, may I present to you Mr Harbottle, Nell’s friend from the north. My wife, Harbottle.”

  Nathan had noticed Lady Godney already, for although she had been engaged with a group of ladies some distance away, she had been watching him intently. Now her curiosity had drawn her to her husband’s side, an insincere smile fixed to her face. She was not a great beauty, and dressed without much taste, but he supposed she would be accounted stylish. He could not help comparing her eye-wateringly mismatched furbelows and gushing society manners with Nell’s quiet grace.

  “Lady Carrbridge is so charming, is she not?” Lady Godney trilled. “And such a superior eye for decoration. When we were here on a previous occasion, I was so impressed with the Chinese Saloon that I begged for the name of the gentleman who had executed her ladyship’s design, and commissioned him to do our own saloon in just that manner. We are quite delighted with it, are we not, my dear? But can you believe it, Mr Harbottle, Sir James will not allow me to have him back to refurbish the drawing room, for he says the cost was outrageous and another room is likely to bankrupt him. Foolish man,” she said, smiling up at her husband.

  Godney appeared not to want to
talk about refurbishment, outrageously expensive or otherwise, for he turned to Nathan and said, “When you see Nell, tell her that although I am pleased that Lady Harbottle requires Louis to write to me every week, it disturbs me that he seems to do nothing but roam the countryside, collecting butterflies and beetles and such like. He even sends me drawings of some of them — beetles! What a thing to be sketching! Although his attempt at a likeness of a peacock showed some promise. Still, the boy should be at his desk, studying. But I have a plan in mind. Yesterday I met, quite by chance, an old tutor of mine, an excellent fellow and somewhat down on his luck, so he will be glad of the opportunity, you know. Greek, Latin… all that sort of thing. That is what Louis should be doing, not paddling about in pond water.”

  Nathan was torn between amusement and irritation. “I suppose Louis has always lived in a town, so having a whole estate to explore is exciting to him,” he said in his mildest tones. “His letters to you reflect that, but Lady Harbottle is teaching him Greek and Latin and a great many other subjects, I assure you.”

  “But she is a woman,” Godney said with unassailable logic. “What can women know of such matters? A tutor is what the boy needs. I shall see to it. And a drawing master, perhaps. As his guardian, the responsibility falls to me to ensure that he receives an education fit for his station in life.”

  Nathan had not much longer to maintain his hold on his temper, for Lady Godney soon saw a more promising acquaintance and veered off with an even wider smile, towing her husband behind her. Almost at once, Nathan spotted an object of his own interest, none other than Lord Toller. Deftly cutting a path through the crowds edging the ballroom, he reached his quarry just as he was about to disappear through a doorway.

  “Lord Toller!” Nathan said. “Would you favour me with a moment of your time?”

  “Ah… er, Harbottle, is it? Certainly, if it is indeed a moment, for you are keeping me from the card table. Unless you would like to play?”