Benedict's Bride

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Benedict's Bride Page 11

by Janet Woods


  ‘The contessa’s position rendered it impossible for her to recognise the girl while she was alive, of course,’ Alfredo explained.

  ‘I don’t see why, when Lord Hartford was not ashamed to. The girl’s parents were legally married, after all.’

  ‘The church dictates–’

  ‘Not in this country, Mr. Dominico. The monarch is the head of our church, and he is advised only by his first minister. However frowned upon certain religions are in this country, we would never disown the offspring of a union legally entered into.’

  ‘Quite so, a different system altogether,’ Thomas said hastily. ‘Is Miss Hartford here?’

  ‘I have yet to meet Miss Hartford. But you should perhaps be made aware that the young lady has agreed to my son’s proposal of marriage, and is soon to become my daughter-in-law.’

  ‘A good arrangement, one that is to prove even more advantageous now. However, I’m disappointed at not being able to see her, for we came to acquaint Miss Hartford with the fact of her good fortune. Also, I wanted to warn you that Patrick Hartford has been making enquiries as to the marriage agreement. He came to me with his companion, Stephen Gould, a young man who is as unsuitable as he is unstable. It would not do for either of them to lay eyes on the agreement.’

  ‘Miss Hartford is the guest of my daughter, Lady Stratton, who lives only an hour’s journey from here. My wife and I were about to visit her for an overnight stay, so to make Miss Hartford’s acquaintance. Perhaps you’d like to accompany us and present your business to her at the same time. It shouldn’t take long to acquaint her of her good fortune, then you can be on your way.’

  ‘That’s kind of you, My Lord.’

  ‘As for the marital agreement, I have the copy safe in my desk drawer. My son will look for the original after he recovers from his illness, which will not be for a fortnight, at least. He thinks it might be amongst the late Reverend Brierly’s papers in his estate manager’s office.’

  * * * *

  Patrick and Stephen who’d been making their way through the shrubbery, arrived just in time to overhear the tail end of the conversation.

  ‘So, there is an agreement,’ Patrick whispered. ‘I knew that lawyer was covering it up. There’s something in it they don’t want me to know about. Shall we go and shake it out of Costain while he’s incapacitated.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. He might appear mild-mannered on the surface, but he’s as dangerous as snake. The only way I’d take him on was if he had his back towards me and both hands and feet were tied. We’ll wait until dusk, then when the servants are eating their dinner we’ll slip into the house, find the earl’s study and read the agreement. The earl won’t even know we’ve been in there.’

  It was a plan that hadn’t even occurred to Patrick. He felt like a fool as he said sullenly, ‘I was about to suggest that myself.’

  Stephen smiled pityingly at him. ‘Of course you were. As for your cousin, at least we now know where she is, so we can bide our time.’

  ‘What if she weds Costain?’

  ‘He’ll be ill for the next two weeks, probably longer. We’ll stay out of sight and lull them into believing we no longer have any interest in the girl. We’ll find out when the wedding is and snatch her from under his nose.’

  Interest piqued, Patrick gazed at him. ‘How will we do that?’

  ‘They’re bound to use the local church. Minstead is the nearest one. One of us will keep the reverend busy while the other slips into the office to look through the events register.

  ‘Where will we stay for all this time? I can’t afford to waste money at the inn.’

  ‘When we’ve done the business we’ll go to Hartford House and lie low. You can play at being Lord of the manor.’

  ‘I am the Lord of the manor.’

  ‘As you say. In that case it will come naturally to you. The locals will support us for a while, no doubt. We’ll go to church on Sunday and we’ll ask the rector’s wife to send one of the poor of the parish to clean and cook. And you can open accounts. But first, we must read that agreement - and as soon as possible.’

  The obtaining of the marriage date and the agreement proved to be trouble free. As soon as the earl and the lawyers left, the villainous pair took the opportunity to climb through the open study window. The agreement was exactly where the earl had said it was, the objective easily achieved.

  Straight away, Stephen Gould grasped what Patrick didn’t when he read it. ‘The property Costain is living in was bought with your grandfather’s money. It was tied to your cousin as a dowry. No wonder Costain ran off with her. The minute the marriage vows are said the debt will be rendered null and void.’

  ‘But we can’t prove the property is mine without a copy of the agreement.’

  ‘I’m wondering if your delicious cousin is aware of the existence of the agreement. We should make sure by informing her of it. I could copy the papers and you could slip the agreement back into the desk before the earl comes back. We could then sent a copy to her.’

  Patrick had not enjoyed trespassing on another man’s property or riffling through his desk. Life was getting too complicated with Stephen, and he felt like abandoning the chase. ‘Why, Stephen, what would you get out of it?’

  Stephen’s frown said he didn’t welcome the question. ‘Your cousin and Costain made a fool of me. I want to ruin the pair of them, bring them down. Costain will offer you a cash settlement instead of the property. You still owe me a great deal of money, Patrick, and I’m not carrying the debt much longer.’

  ‘I’ve promised to pay it when Hartford House has been sold. Plus there will be enough left over to go abroad with. I thought we’d agreed. There’s no need to ruin my cousin. Marriage to Costain is the best thing for her.’

  ‘So you’re happy to let the viscount keep the estate that should rightfully be yours, knowing it was paid for with your grandfather’s money, something you were entitled to have as his legal heir.’

  Patrick stared at him, doubt mirrored in his eyes. When he was sober his conscience was easily pricked. Although he’d disliked the way the old man had treated him, that wasn’t Amber’s fault. ‘As long as you understand that I don’t want her to be physically hurt again. We’ll toss for who goes back in. It won’t take two of us.’

  Patrick was a coward, Stephen thought. As for his cousin, the girl had mocked him, and had made him look a fool. So had Costain. He wasn’t about to allow the bitch to get away with it. If Costain married her he would spend his wedding night with damaged goods.

  ‘A little later, their courage bolstered by the wine they’d consumed, the pair of them returned to the Laconbridge residence.’

  Stephen had lost the toss, something that had pleased Patrick, since his friend usually had luck on his side. He suspected Stephen made his own luck, though he’d never been able to figure out exactly how.

  On this occasion Patrick wasn’t far wrong. Stephen had made his own luck, with a two-headed coin. The first time he had been in the earl’s study he’d seen the key to the strong box in the drawer.

  Opening his lozenge tin he pulled down his kerchief and placed one in his mouth, sucking reflectively on it as he gazed around the study. Slipping the original agreement back into the drawer, he grabbed up the key and opened the strongbox. Inside, he found a purse heavy with gold sovereigns. What luck! He slipped it into the pocket inside his waistcoat. An enamel snuffbox on the desk took his fancy, so he took that, too.

  But he wasn’t so lucky leaving unobserved. He hadn’t seen the dogs, two elderly lurchers who heaved themselves up from the rug in front of the fireplace, and came to where he stood. Tails wagging, the pair sniffed at his legs, then waddled over to the door and began to bark and whine, looking back at him every now and then.

  They wanted to be let out. He crossed to the door, then cursed when he heard footsteps, and a woman’s voice, ‘So that’s where you’re skulking, you varmints. No good waiting for the master in there, he won’t be home toni
ght. Best you go to the kitchen for your dinners before cook’s cat eats it.’

  The door was thrust open, the dogs waddled off through it, still giving rusting barks.

  In the grey evening light the maid caught sight of him and Stephen hastily pulled up the kerchief when she squawked, ‘Oh, my gawd, who’re you?’ Her eyes widened as she opened her mouth to scream.

  One punch in the stomach robbed her of the breath required to carry out the threat, another to the head snapped it back and rendered her unconscious. The dogs had stopped their noise and padded off, more concerned about their dinner than seeing off the intruders. He dragged the maid into the study, allowing her to drop to the floor with a soft thud before creeping out through the hall. Closing the front door quietly behind him he scurried off through the shrubbery to where Patrick stood waiting with the horses.

  ‘Let’s get out of here, fast,’ he said.

  * * * *

  Emma stopped in the middle of a sentence when a carriage was heard. She ran to the window, where the smile on her face widened. ‘How wonderful, it’s my father and mother’s carriage - they must have come to introduce themselves to you. And behind them is a phaeton with two men, who look rather serious and official. Goodness, what on earth is going on? I must admit, life has been rather exciting since Benedict brought you here, Amber.’

  She turned, her eyes sparkling. ‘You’d better hide up in your room while I find out what’s going on, dear. I think the men are with my parents, and if they are I will send for you. Otherwise I’ll deny that you’re a guest here, if asked.’

  * * * *

  As Amber hurried up the stairs Emma flew into the hall and out through the front door. She exchanged hugs and kisses with her parents. ‘Mama ... Papa, what a pleasant surprise. And you bring visitors with you, do you not?’

  Her father smiled at her obvious caution. ‘They’ve come to see Miss Hartford.’

  ‘But Benedict said–’

  ‘Both are lawyers, my dear. This is Mr. Thomas Dunstan from London, who handled the estate of the late Lord Hartford. And this is Mr. Alfredo Dominico, who has come all the way from Turin in Italy with urgent news for her. I will vouch for them both. Gentlemen, this is my daughter, Lady Stratton.’

  Both gentlemen bowed over her hand, and the Italian gave a broad smile as he said gallantly, ‘The earl is lucky to have such exquisite ladies littering his household.’

  Emma exchanged an amused glance with her mother, then said, ‘Goodness, how intriguing this all is. Would you like to wait in the morning room, gentlemen? You can talk to Miss Hartford there in private.’ She beckoned to a maid. ‘Show the gentlemen to the morning room and make sure they have some refreshment.’ The lawyers were the recipient of a dazzling smile. ‘Miss Hartford will be with you shortly.’

  She sent another maid up for Amber and they waited at the bottom for the stairs as she came down, a neat figure in a pale blue morning gown, its high neckline trimmed modestly with a lace. She wore a shy smile on her face.

  * * * *

  Amber’s heart was thumping as the earl came up to meet her, taking her hand in his to assist her down the last few steps in a gentlemanly manner. Benedict resembled him. He stopped in front of his wife. ‘Here she is, Imogene ... Miss Amber Hartford. She’s a lovely sprite, is she not? No wonder Ben decided to carry her off.’

  Amber curtseyed. ‘It was more by accident than design, My Lord. Your son was in the position of little choice. I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance, My lady.’

  ‘And I you.’ Benedict’s quietly elegant mother kissed her on both cheeks and smiled. ‘Welcome to the family, my dear.’

  ‘Thank you. Benedict walks in the earl’s image. I have never seen a son so like his father.’

  ‘Yes ... they are alike, even in their ways. He is a good son.’

  ‘He has his mother’s beautiful eyes, though,’ the earl murmured, grinning when he earned himself a reproving smile.

  There was no sign of the two men who had come with them, though Amber heard the murmur of voices in the morning room.

  ‘We have brought two lawyers to see you,’ the earl said.

  ‘Two!’ Alarm filled her. ‘Am I to be handed over to my cousin’s care, after all?’

  Emma slid an arm round her. ‘Rest assured, I will not allow that to happen. One of your visitors is Thomas Dunstan, the lawyer.’

  ‘I know of him, though we haven’t met. He handled my grandfather’s estate.’

  ‘That is so. The other gentleman is an Italian called Alfonso Dominico. Also a lawyer.’

  ‘My mother was Italian,’ Amber said, and excitement nudged at her. ‘Do my Italian aunts wish to meet me? It’s something I’ve always hoped for.’

  The earl shook his head. ‘Unfortunately, your aunts are no more. Mr. Dominic is handling the estate of the Contessa Consulata Puzo, who has recently died. You are the chief beneficiary in her last will and testament, my dear. The gentlemen are waiting for you in the morning room.’

  Her aunt? It was unbelievable that one of the women who had disowned her and left her to be brought up in a convent had made her a beneficiary in her will. Despite her curiosity Amber felt a thrust of anger that she’d been cast aside as though she were nothing of importance. ‘Must I see them? I’ve never known my mother’s family and cannot help but think it’s all a mistake.’

  The earl smiled. ‘It’s not a mistake, and you will have to see the lawyers sometime. They’ve come a long way, my dear. It’s best that the business be conducted now, then you’ll know where you stand. Would you like me to stay with you and advise you? I’m sure Emma and her mother will find plenty to talk about in our absence.’

  She smiled and nodded with relief.

  The two men stood when she entered, and after introductions were made the earl withdrew to lean on the mantelpiece. The Italian gentleman lifted her hand to his mouth and whispered, ‘Enchanted, my dear. How like your mother you are.’

  ‘You knew her?’

  ‘Si, we were children together.’ He drew a miniature from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘This is Lucia, your mother. She was the youngest daughter. Next came Orsola, then Consulata, who asked me to present this to you straight away.

  The woman in the portrait was about the same age as Amber was now. She could have been looking at herself in the mirror. Dark hair framed pale, translucent skin. Her eyes had a greenish hue.’

  ‘That was painted on the birthday before ... ’ He shrugged. ‘But we will not talk of that time, it is too sad. The sight of you brings me happiness for you are so much like her. Lucia was a sweet young woman, filled with a joy for living, and she loved your father with a true heart. She will be smiling down from heaven at this very moment. You will look for her out of your window tonight, Ambra Rosa. Lucia will be the brightest star in the heavens. How proud she will be to see what a lovely young woman her bambino has become.’

  His words were as sincere as his voice, and they filled her with an indescribable longing. Amber’s eyes filled with tears as her hand closed around the brooch. Her mother would have spoken in the same accented way, and it was not the way Amber had imagined as a child, but a voice that carried the words in a more melodic fashion. They rolled like warm honey from his tongue and made her think of sunshine, blue skies and a bright ocean of clear, blue water. She liked this Italian lawyer.

  She took the handkerchief the earl offered and dabbed at her tears, saying in a choked voice, ‘Thank you for bringing me this, Mr. Dominico. It was very kind of you. You cannot know what it means for me to have a likeness of her after all these years.’

  His smile was wide. ‘I didn’t mean to make you sad. But now I have I will get down to business while you compose yourself, and soon you will be very happy instead . . .yes?’

  It was a stunned Amber who gazed at him a few moments later. She was now the possessor of a fortune. ‘Did my grandfather know about this legacy, Mr. Dominico?’

  ‘He had hopes on your behalf, but died
before they came to fruition. There was correspondence between Lord Hartford and your aunt over the years. I have brought your grandfather’s letters to you. It was the contessa’s wish that someone be appointed to advise you, and Mr. Dunstan had indicated his willingness to do so, should you so approve.’

  ‘If my grandfather trusted Mr. Dunstan with his business, then I see no reason why I shouldn’t.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Hartford. I will leave you with a suitable allowance, and if there is anything you want.’

  ‘There is something I want very much to purchase if you can obtain it for me.’

  ‘I will try ... what is it?’

  ‘Hartford House was my grandfather’s home. I believe Patrick will sell it eventually. When he does I would like to buy it.’ Worried, she said, ‘I can afford it, can I not?’

  Now it was Thomas Dunstan’s turn to smile. ‘Without a doubt, and you’re quite correct. Your cousin does wish to sell it, and I’m sure your grandfather would have been heartened to know that his home will remain in your care. I’ll negotiate on your behalf. I understand your cousin wishes to travel abroad, so expect a quick sale.’

  ‘You had better keep the name of the buyer a secret, then. For if my cousin learns of my legacy he will want more than the property is worth. I will be glad when Patrick has gone, so I don’t have to keep looking over my shoulder. I do wish matters between us could have been better, since he’s my only kin.’

  * * * *

  Four days later when Emma was in the kitchen supervising meals for the week and Amber was enjoying a few moments of solitude, a maid handed her a letter from Mr. Dunstan, along with a package.

  ‘Thank you, Annie.’ Her heart fluttered as she wondered if the package was from Benedict, but then Thomas Dunstan came to mind. It was probably another set of legal papers to read and sign, she thought, groaning inwardly as she unwrapped it.

  There was a note attached to the papers that read simply, It might be in your best interests to see this before your marriage rather than after it, Miss Hartford. It was signed, A concerned friend.

  It was the marriage contract agreed to between her own grandfather and Benedict’s. But it wasn’t signed, and she didn’t recognise the handwriting. It certainly wasn’t Mr. Dunstan’s, nor that of her grandfather.

 

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