by Joan Wolf
He had said something else about my brother and I had to ask him to repeat himself.
“He’s coming tomorrow afternoon and, unfortunately, he’ll be staying for a while. He wants to speak to the solicitor who drew up the trust papers leaving you the money, and we’re more convenient to Lambourn than Mansfield is.”
“He’s going to try to grab the money for himself, isn’t he?”
“He is. But I think we have enough evidence to prove you are who you say you are.” It was dark in the carriage, but I felt him turn to look at me. “Your father may have to come to England, Isabel. His testimony could be vital.”
“But…Papa can’t leave the circus! He is the glue that holds it together.”
Leo took my hand into his large, warm clasp. “We are speaking about a great deal of money, sweetheart. If you wish to claim it, you will have to do everything in your power to prove your identity.”
“I want that money,” I said fiercely.
“Then I’ll make sure you get it.”
I believed him.
He seemed to have forgot he was still holding my hand as he asked, “Have you made any plans for the money as yet?”
There was the faintest trace of amusement in his voice and I took back my hand. “I told you, I want it for Papa. That inheritance is the only reason I agreed to come to Camden Hall with you, Leo. Papa is getting older, and I want him to be able to retire with enough money to keep as many horses, and as many people to help him, as he wishes. I want my Papa to live a long, long time, and that money will help him do that.”
Leo was silent as we were carried through the silent night together. We were almost home when he spoke again. “What sort of future do you see for yourself, Isabel? Don’t you want to marry and have your own family? Surely it would be wise to keep some money aside for yourself. Even a quarter of what is in the trust is enough for you to make a very good marriage.”
“I have never met a man I wanted to marry, and I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love.”
“May I ask what are you looking for in a husband?”
The answer to this question was easy. “A good man. A kind man. A man who likes to laugh. A man who loves children. And, of course, he must love horses as well.”
“In short, a man like your Papa.”
I smiled up at him in the dark, pleased he had figured that out. “Yes. I want a man exactly like my Papa.”
“Hard to find someone like that.”
The picture of Leo allowing Aunt Augusta to call Camden Hall “her” house slipped into my mind. I shook my head to banish it. “Yes,” I said. “It is.”
Chapter Sixteen
Two more family members arrived at Camden Hall the following day. Mother’s husband, Sir John Hepburn, arrived from Scotland in time for luncheon, and my brother, Henry, Earl of Mansfield, arrived from Surrey in time for tea.
Sir John was a bear of a man. When Mother stood beside him, she looked like a child. It soon became evident, however, that Sir John adored his wife, and his feeling seemed to be reciprocated. Mother looked radiant, and Sir John was warmly welcomed into our household.
My brother had a different kind of reception. We were at tea in the drawing room, even Margaret was present on this day, when Hobbs appeared in the doorway and intoned, “The Earl of Mansfield, my lord.”
Every head turned toward the door and my brother walked in. The first thing I noticed was his hair. It was ink black and he wore it unfashionably long. Leo rose from his seat by Robert and approached him, hand held out. “I’m glad you could come, Mansfield. Welcome to Camden Hall. I believe you are acquainted with most of the family, but you must let me introduce you to your sister, Lady Isabel Lewins.”
My brother strode across the room and stopped in front of the sofa where I was seated. I had put down my cup of tea as soon as he entered so I was able to extend my hand. Before I could speak a word of greeting, he snapped, “My sister? That is something that remains to be proved.”
The narrowed eyes staring down at me were gray and hard as the rock on Lambourn Downs. I returned my hand to my lap, narrowed my own eyes and held his stare. For a long moment neither of us spoke but we both knew war had been declared.
Leo’s voice broke our stalemate. He said, “Mansfield, permit me to show you the portrait of our great-grandmother that so resembles Isabel.”
Henry swung around and took a few steps toward the wall where the infamous portrait was hanging. He looked for a few moments in silence then shrugged. “There is a certain resemblance; perhaps she does have some Sommer blood in her veins. But she could be the genetic copy of some by-blow your family never knew about. In fact, that’s what she probably is. You will never be able to prove her identity legally.”
Aunt Augusta said in a frigid voice, “Be seated, Mansfield, and do not speak of Isabel as if she were not present. It is very rude, and I do not permit rudeness in my house.”
I thought of the times Aunt Augusta had been rude to me and my jaw dropped. Then I realized—she was defending me. My jaw snapped closed and my eyes widened.
Henry said, “I always thought this was Leo’s house, Aunt Augusta.”
Oh my God, I thought. Twice in two days.
But Aunt Augusta had a champion. His voice frigid, Leo said, “It is my house and Aunt Augusta is my hostess. And if you cannot keep a civil tongue in your head, Mansfield, you had better leave.”
My brother shrugged and took a seat on one of the many empty gilt chairs. “Sorry, Lady Augusta. I didn’t mean to insult you.”
Hah! I thought.
Aunt Augusta said, in a voice that was as frigid as Leo’s had been, “Will you take some tea?”
“I will.”
Aunt Augusta poured. Henry remained where he was. Susan said breathlessly, “I’ll take it to him, Aunt Augusta.” She collected the teacup and saucer and brought it to my brother.
He thanked her, ran his eyes over her from head to toe and said, “And to whom do you belong, little girl?”
Susan’s face flushed bright red and she hurried to resume her place.
“Susan is my daughter,” Aunt Jane said, from where she was sitting on the sofa next to Margaret.
The arresting black head turned. “Ah, yes. Aunt Jane. The baby sister. You’re looking well.”
“You didn’t bring your wife?” she asked.
“No. She has just lost a child. Not up to a long carriage ride.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Aunt Jane said with genuine sympathy.
“So am I,” Henry returned, his face grim. “She finally gets with child and then she loses it. And it would have been a boy. A most infuriating situation.”
No one had anything to say to this comment. Henry lifted his teacup to his lips and looked at Leo. If looks could kill, I thought, and shivered. Leo made a general comment about the new curate at the rectory and everyone took up the new topic with relief.
*
Once tea broke up Susan and I went for a walk in the garden. I knew she was dying to discuss my brother, and I wasn’t averse to such a prospect. As we walked among the bountiful beauty of Mr. Brown’s creation, she used every derogative adjective she could think of to describe the Earl of Mansfield.
“He certainly sounds heartless,” I agreed. “That was a terrible thing to say about his poor wife who had just lost a baby.”
“That’s the way he is. It’s the way he’s always been. If he wants something, he expects to get it. His poor wife hasn’t managed to produce an heir yet and I can only imagine what her life must be like.”
“He doesn’t have any heir?”
“Well of course he has an heir. Estates like Mansfield are always tied up in an entail. If Mansfield doesn’t have a son, the estate and title will go to some cousin.”
“How can someone who has everything be so nasty and…and…I searched for the English word. “Wicked,” I finally said.
The sky overhead was blue, and a breeze was stirring the leaves on the trees
. I thought it was a shame our peace should be disturbed by this snake of a brother.
Susan said, “He was an only child and Mama says his father adored him. He encouraged Henry to be proud of his ancestry and to look down on all lesser beings. To be just like the earl himself, in fact.”
I bent to remove a twig from our path. “I’m so glad your parents discussed these kinds of family matters with you, Susan. You’re my best source of information.”
She glanced at me and grinned. “They don’t discuss anything with me. I get everything I know from listening to the servants. They discuss everything all the time.” I started to laugh, and she joined in. “I’d hardly know my own name if I had to rely on the information I got from my parents,” she added.
We walked in comfortable silence for a while then, with some hesitation, I mentioned what had bothered me most about my brother’s arrival. “What Henry said…about me being the child of a bastard…do you think that might be true, Susan?”
She stopped walking and I stopped as well. She turned to look at me, settling her shawl more snugly around her shoulders. The breeze was getting stronger.
“Of course it’s not true! How could you even think that, Isabel?”
“It’s not impossible, Susan. You must admit that.”
“It may not be impossible, but it’s certainly incredible. You were given away on the very same day Aunt Maria’s baby was stolen from her pram. You were the same age as that baby. And you look exactly like a portrait of your great-grandmother. What are the chances that you were a different baby, also stolen, who happened to be the offspring of some bastard member of the Sommer family, who grew up to be the exact image of our famous great-grandmother?”
When put like that, it did seem incredible that I could be someone other than who Leo had said I was.
Susan said, “It’s getting chilly, Isabel. We should go back to the house. It will soon be time to change for dinner.”
When I was once again inside the walls of Camden Hall I first went to my sitting room. When I heard the voices of Elisabeth and my mother, I backed quietly away, returned to the stairs and went to my bedroom. I needed to be alone. I had something to think about.
When my brother said I might be the offspring of a bastard, my heart had jumped in surprise and I realized I had never doubted the truth of my new identity. I had fought against it, been angry about it, been determined to hate every second I spent at Camden Hall, been determined to hate Leo, but I had never doubted the truth of my identity.
And now…if the possibility of my not being Maria’s daughter were true, shouldn’t I have been thrilled? I should have been packing my bags to go back to Papa and the old life I missed so much. Instead, I had been appalled.
I sat in the comfortable red velvet chair in front of the fire, stared into the empty grate, and thought about this. It was true I had grown more comfortable here at Camden. It was true that Alonzo was happy here, and true also that I was enjoying working with Leo’s horses. I liked spending time with Leo; he was good company. But Camden wasn’t home. Home was the circus. Home was our beloved farmhouse. Home was Papa.
Papa!
Papa had been the reason I had been so appalled! If I weren’t the girl Leo thought I was, then I wouldn’t get the money for Papa.
The door opened suddenly and Elisabeth came in. “I am so sorry, Isabel,” she said, coming to me and dropping a kiss on the top of my head. “Your Maman told me about that terrible man and the things he said. She told me a mother always knows her own child, and from the moment she first hugged you, she knew you were her daughter.”
I was so relieved to hear this that I jumped out of my chair and hugged my dear friend. “Thank you for telling me that, Lisa.”
She held me to her breast. “Do not worry mon ange. You are who the Earl of Camden has said you are. No one can take that away from you. The money for your dot will still be yours.”
I thought of Leo’s comment that the French always think of money first, and I almost smiled.
Chapter Seventeen
We sat down to dinner with two more men than we usually had. Mother’s husband, Sir John, was lovely and entertaining. I cannot make the same comment about my brother. He spoke rarely, and when he did his voice was cold and sarcastic. I particularly resented the tone he took when he spoke to Aunt Augusta. She lived here. He didn’t. He should show her some respect.
As usual, the family spent the evening in the drawing room. My mother played for us on the pianoforte and Margaret sang. Aunt Augusta had given up trying to get me to perform. I could sing, but not like Margaret. My only talent needed a horse as an accompaniment, not a piano.
Aunt Augusta always retired early, and tonight the rest of us followed. It had not been a lively gathering. As soon as they had swallowed their tea, Leo and Robert fled to the billiard room. Roger and my brother disappeared not long after, leaving Sir John Hepburn as the only man. Aunt Jane suggested we all retire early, and no one disagreed.
I wasn’t at all tired, and when I was halfway up the stairs I decided to pay a quick visit to Alonzo. I waited inside my room until I was sure the others were safely into their rooms, told a disapproving Elisabeth I would be back shortly, returned down the stairs and made my way through the now familiar maze of corridors that ran through the old house. I reached the door I wanted just as Hobbs had finished locking it.
“I’m going to take a quick trip to the stable, Hobbs,” I explained to the surprised butler. “Can you leave this door open until I get back? I won’t be long.”
“It’s dark outside, my lady,” he replied. “A little late to be out by yourself.”
“The moon is out and I won’t be long.”
He hesitated and I repeated, “I’m only going to the stable. If you give me the keys, I can lock the door myself when I return.”
He was horrified. “I cannot let you have the keys, my lady! I do not think my lord would approve.”
By now I had become absolutely determined to see Alonzo. “Come back in half an hour, Hobbs. I will have returned by then and you can lock the door.”
He did not look happy. “Allow me to summon one of the footmen to go with you, my lady.”
“I do not need a footman. I am perfectly capable of walking to the stable, seeing my horse, and returning here within half an hour’s time.”
He still looked unhappy, but he gave in. “Very well, my lady. I will return in half an hour and lock the door.”
“Thank you.” I opened the door and let myself out.
The sky was clear, and the moon’s silvery light showed me the way to the stable. I muttered to myself as I walked along the familiar path. Why did the English treat their young women as if they were children? Or imbeciles? In France, in the circus, I was respected as an adult.
I reached the stable in perfect safety. One of the large front double doors was open to allow the horses fresh air, and inside the stable a horse whinnied. I was about to go inside when I noticed a glove on the ground just outside the closed door. When I straightened from picking it up, Roger stepped through the stable’s open door out into the moonlight.
“What are you doing here?” The two of us exclaimed at the same moment.
I answered first. “I have come to pay a visit to Alonzo. Why are you here?”
“I was planning to saddle a horse, but now I see there might be more fun right here than at the pub.”
While we were speaking Roger had come over to me. His move left me facing him with my back a few steps away from the stable door. The moonlight showed me the look in his eyes, and I didn’t like what I saw. I said, “You had better return to the house. I don’t think Leo would approve of your taking out one of his horses this late at night.”
“What Leo doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He stepped closer to me and I took an instinctive step away, which put my back right up against the heavy stable door. Roger followed, bracing his two hands against the door on either side of me, holding me prisoner. His face
was close to mine and I could smell the brandy on his breath. “Everyone thinks you’re a virgin, Circus Girl, but I know better.”
“Get away from me!” I said furiously, and prepared to knee him where it would hurt.
He leaned his entire body against me, blocking my knee with his weight. “Oh no you don’t.” He was laughing. “I know that little trick.”
All of a sudden I was frightened. Very frightened. “If you touch me, I’ll tell Leo,” I said.
His head was bent toward mine and I could feel his hot brandy-reeking breath on my face. “The Great God Leo,” he muttered. “Can’t wait to see his face when he learns I got in before he did.” And he lowered his mouth to mine.
My head was pressed against the door and his mouth was grinding my lips into my tightly shut teeth. I struggled against him, but I was helpless against his superior strength. I tried to scream, but when I opened my mouth his tongue smothered my cry. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t get my knee up. I was powerless. I shut my eyes tightly and asked God to help me.
Then, all of a sudden Roger was gone. I opened my eyes, but I was shaking so badly I couldn’t see. I blinked and the scene in front of me came into focus. Roger was lying on the ground and Leo was standing over him.
God had heard my prayer.
As I watched, Leo lifted Roger off the ground with one hand on his coat, and flung him away as if he were a sack of grain. “I want you gone by tomorrow morning,” he said. “Pack whatever you own and get out.”
Roger was cringing on the ground, blood dripping from his nose. “You can’t throw me out, Leo,” he whined, trying to wipe his nose. “I have nowhere to go.”
A rush of satisfaction swept through me when I saw the blood. Leo had punched Roger in the face. I hoped his nose was broken.
“You have abused my hospitality by attacking a young girl who is under my protection. I cannot have you anywhere near Isabel. Do you understand me, Roger? I want you out of my house. Immediately.”
