Heir to Rowanlea

by Sally James

  * * * *

  After seeing to the comfort of the new arrivals, Charlotte, Harry and Lady Weare gravitated by a natural instinct to the latter’s boudoir.

  “Claude!” Harry exploded as he came into the room. “It shows how much he cares for the family to abandon his own name. I’d never have thought it of him. And that frightful waistcoat. How could any self-respecting man wear such a monstrosity? The fellow’s a dandy!”

  Lady Weare sighed. “It was not tactful to change his name, and yet, I suppose, there is something in what Claudine says. They would not have wished it known they were connected with England while we were at war with France.”

  “Well, they have made it plain they intend to be fully connected now,” he replied savagely. “How dare they chide my father for the fact that this place is old-fashioned! It was so for years before he took over, and they would have had cause to blame him if he had spent Claude’s blunt in refurbishing it! It would certainly not have been to their taste if he had. And to talk of sending for him, as though he were a lackey at their command. It’s the outside of enough!”

  “That is just Claudine’s way, Harry. And I do not think the comment about the house was intended as a criticism, dear,” his aunt said pacifically, but it did not mollify him.

  “Do not move out of the best bedrooms,” he mimicked. “Where would she have had us sleep, pray? In the servants’ attics? I collect we should have had the best beds aired, and hot water awaiting them, in the best bedrooms, these past nine years! I wonder why did they not send to tell us of their arrival? Did they wish to catch us out?”

  “Claudine did not intend any insult, Harry. She was always prone to speak without reflection. Really, it is amazing how little she has changed, despite being ten years older.”

  Seeing from Harry’s stormy look that he would not be distracted from his grievances, Charlotte hastened to join in.

  “I can scarcely remember her, for whenever we stayed at Rowanlea I contrived to avoid her if possible, since she was for ever demanding to see if my hands were dirty, or my dresses torn. Claude I can recall much better, but he seems changed somehow.”

  “His hair is perhaps a shade darker, to be sure,” her mother agreed, “but boys often do change as they grow older, and it is hard to remember exact shades of color after all these years. He seemed, from what little I saw of him, older than I would have expected. “

  “He was twenty-one in January, was he not?” Charlotte asked. “Yes, in fact he looked older than you, Harry.”

  Harry looked at her broodingly, and then an arrested expression came into his eyes.

  “You are right,” he said slowly. “And, by heavens, where was the scar by his lip? Do you not remember, Aunt Sophia, it was just by the corner?”

  “Yes, I do,” Charlotte exclaimed. “He cut himself when he fell out of the oak tree behind the stables. We were frantic, for we thought the bleeding would never stop, and it left a scar about half an inch long!”

  “I wonder?” said Harry musingly. “No, it is not possible. Yet could he be an imposter? There have been such things.”

  Lady Weare looked at Harry, startled for a moment, and then shook her head decidedly.

  “Nonsense, Harry. The scar could have faded over the years. Why, I had a similar one, on my arm, when I was very young, and it was the despair of my mama, who thought I would never be able to wear low dresses, but it had disappeared by the time of my come-out.”

  “But he does look older than Harry,” Charlotte repeated.

  Lady Weare shook her head.

  “He has gone through a great deal, I imagine, and not had an easy life. That is easily accounted for, it can age people. No, Fred—Claude, I suppose we must become used to calling him—was always very like his mother, and he still is, resembling her more than his father. He is no impostor, Harry, and you must not even think of the possibility again.”

  They were silent for a few moments, and then Lady Weare sighed, and remarked they would all find things very different now.

  “I wonder how soon he will go to Rowanlea?” she asked, unable to keep a faint note of hope from her voice.

  “Rowanlea? Well, at least it will be lived in again, though doubtless my father will be at fault for not residing there instead of in his own home,” Harry said bitterly, and took his leave.

  * * * *

  He made his way to Jack’s lodgings, where he poured out all his anger against his cousin’s behavior, and the implied criticisms of his father.

  “I shall not be able to remain in Grosvenor Square without coming to cuffs with him,” he concluded.

  “Come and share these rooms,” Jack offered hospitably. Harry grinned at him but shook his head.

  “Thanks, Jack, but there’s no need. I still keep the rooms I use when I come up to town on my own, to save having to open the house, and I think I shall move there. God, what a mess! Odd, I used to like Frederick, he was a great gun, up for all sort of larks, but he has changed. That detestable mother of his, I suppose, and I never did like her. I do not think I am going to like Claude!”

  He kept out of his cousin’s way until they were forced to meet at dinnertime. The family assembled in the drawing-room, and Mr Norville, who had been out all day, met the new arrivals for the first time. Lady Weare had waylaid him as he returned to the house and imparted the news to him, and he was all anxiety to see what kind of a man his nephew, after whose interests he had looked for so long, had turned out to be.

  “Claudine, my dear! Why, bless me, you don’t look a day older, I’ll swear, Those damned, er, hem, your pardon dashed revolutionaries haven’t spoilt your beauty, I can see.”

  Lady Norville preened and tapped his hand with her fan. Harry suppressed his feelings of disgust. She was in her late forties, but dressed and behaved, he thought with an inward sneer, like a debutante. His Aunt Sophia was much younger, and far prettier, but she behaved with dignity. Glancing at his father he decided the older man was feeling a similar repugnance, but his father was adept at concealing his feelings when he considered it expedient, and uttering meaningless flatteries.

  Lady Norville did not appear to find anything amiss.

  “Neither have you greatly changed, Henry. This is my brother, Jean de Vauban, who so kindly escorted us to London.”

  “Welcome to England, Monsieur. And this must be Frederick. It is good to see you, my boy.”

  “It is good to be here, Uncle Henry, but if you please, I prefer to be called Claude. I have grown accustomed to it, you see,” he added with a smile. “I see you have been busy caring for my interests. I shall be fortunate indeed if I find Rowanlea so well cared for as is this house.”

  Mr Norville looked at him and nodded.

  “Indeed you will find it so, lad, though we haven’t lived in it as we took the liberty of doing here. Hope you don’t mind, eh? Thought it the best way to keep it from going to rack and ruin. Course, a country house is different. But Sophia and I will look for somewhere else in town as soon as may be.”

  “There is no necessity, Uncle Henry, I assure you. There is so much for me to learn, and I shall welcome your help—indeed, it will be invaluable.”

  “H’m, well, as to that, I’ve sent a message to Glossop—he’s my man of business, and was your father’s too—and he’ll be along tomorrow morning to meet you, and you can ask him any questions you want. I think he’ll tell you I’ve not ruined you while I’ve been your steward.”

  He laughed heartily, and Claude and Lady Norville joined in, assuring him they had every confidence he had done excellently well. Shortly afterwards Rivers announced dinner was served, and they went informally down to the The ladies passed in, and Mr Norville gestured to Claude and Monsieur de Vauban to follow them, briefly turning aside to give Harry a message he had only that moment remembered from one of his friends who had seen him earlier. They passed through the door together and Mr Norville stepped across to his usual seat at the head of the table, to be brought up short by the si
ght of Claude sitting there. He glanced round at the others, and found his sister composedly taking her seat on Claude’s right, opposite Charlotte, instead of at the foot of the table, where Lady Norville sat, her brother on her left.

  “I keep forgetting,” he said with a laugh that seemed to his son a trifle forced, and walked round to sit beside Charlotte. “It’s been a surprise. Forgive me, boy, but it’s a habit of years.”

  “Naturally, Uncle, and perhaps you ought—would prefer—until I become accustomed to everything, you know—” Claude began, half rising from the chair.

  He did not rise very far, Harry noticed with a cynical look. Though the offer had been made pleasantly enough, it did not seem as though he expected it to be accepted,

  Mr Norville waved him back.

  “Nonsense. Do not, I beg of you, be making a mountain out of it. It’s your place, my boy, and right glad I am to see you back home to take it.”

  “We heard nothing of you apart from the fact that Frederick had been killed, and you were at Versailles,” Lady Weare said quickly. “Do tell us, Claudine, what happened. How did you contrive?”

  Lady Norville helped herself to some salmon and sighed. “It was terrible, truly dreadful. It still makes me wish to weep when I remember those days. Frederick smuggled us out of Paris, when it seemed matters were getting out of hand. That was just before the King was murdered. Then he insisted on returning for some friends of mine, a widow and her daughter, because they had no man to protect them, and all their servants had run away.”

  “Could they not have come with you?” Charlotte asked.

  Lady Norville shook her head.

  “There was no room in the carriage, my dear, for you must know we had to come with some other friends. It was their carriage, and we all had to dress as bourgeois, and pretend we were going to visit an aunt whose husband had died. It was so dreadful I still shudder to think of it! I dream of it still. When we reached Versailles, Frederick insisted on returning, and left us with an old servant who had a small inn, little better than a lodging-house. That was where we met the man who was coming to England, who said he would tell you of our fate. You see, the daughter of my friend escaped and found us, and she told us what had happened to Frederick. I told him it was unsafe. But he insisted on leaving us!”

  “What did you do?” Mr Norville asked.

  “We walked, to Orleans,” Claude said abruptly. “Mama had a brother living there, not Uncle Jean, an older brother, and we stayed with him for some time. Then, when he could house us no longer, for most of his possessions had been taken away, we had to go to Bordeaux, where an aunt had a small farm. We have lived there since, and Uncle Jean, who lived in Bordeaux, has helped us all the time.”

  “Then you were never in Chartres?” Charlotte asked, and Claude gave her a swift look and frowned.

  “Chartres? I do not think so. Why do you mention it? Did we pass through it on the way to Orleans, Maman?”

  “No, my love, we went the other way. Oh, when I think of that frightful journey! I do not think that today I could walk so far. I had to sell the jewels I wore, and I was cheated, for they knew a defenseless woman, a fugitive, could not afford to argue. But we reached Jean, and he and my sister cared for us while they could, despite their own misfortunes.”

  “I see you managed to keep some jewels,” Harry said quietly.

  Lady Norville glanced briefly at the magnificent diamond necklace and huge diamond ring she wore.

  “Those were her own jewels, owned before her marriage. We could not permit Claudine to sell the Norville heirlooms, or what her husband had given her,” Monsieur de Vauban replied. “I confess we have at times been grateful for what we could raise on them, but all are safely redeemed since it has become possible for Claude to come to England and take up his rightful position.”

  “But enough about that terrible time,” Lady Norville said, suppressing a shudder. “It causes me to ride the night mare. Tell me, Sophia, what of our old friends? Who is in town?”

  The evening passed, with the ladies and Mr Norville bearing the brunt of the conversation, reminiscing about their friends, while Claude listened with polite interest. Harry and Charlotte were both rather quiet, and Monsieur de Vauban, after unsuccessfully trying to draw Harry out on the political situation in England, and the reaction to the peace treaty so recently ratified, sat back and listened with every appearance of interest to the conversation of the others.

  Charlotte, making the excuse that after so much excitement her head was in a whirl, escaped soon after the tea tray had been brought in. Harry made his excuses too, but in his case he left the house and made his way to a certain discreet establishment where he was tolerably certain of finding some kindred spirits who would distract him from his thoughts with a few rubbers of cards.

  * * * *

  Lady Weare soon followed Charlotte upstairs, and tucked her up, obscurely telling her not to get into a pucker, then went to her own room where shortly afterwards her brother tapped on the door.

  “Well, what do you think of him?” she asked, drawing him into the room and quietly shutting the door.

  “Fred—Claude? Oh, he’ll be right enough, no doubt, when he’s had time to find his feet, “ Henry replied. “Damned stupid mistake of mine, to go for his seat. I see you didn’t make the same mistake.”

  “No, Claudine ensured she got there before me,” Sophia said with a slight laugh. “I do think they might have deferred to you, at least on the first night, and left it to you to suggest. It was almost as though they were determined, both of them, to establish from the first moment who was to be the master.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t suppose the boy meant any disrespect, and after all, it is his place, as head of the family, and in his own house.”

  “Do you not think we should move? We could find another house for the rest of the season, and then you could look about you for a suitable one to buy for next year. Or I might consider buying one for James.”

  “No, no, they do not want to turn us out, I am sure.”

  Lady Weare sighed.

  “But it could be uncomfortable. Such a pity the town is so crowded this year, what with the Peace celebrations. The only houses available are likely to be in some district like Harley Street, or even worse. It might be better than staying here, though.”

  “Harley Street?” he exclaimed in horror. “Surely not’? There must be other places available!”

  “I doubt it. What a pity I have already sent out the invitations for Charlotte’s ball next month. I wonder if it would be better to cancel it, and have some smaller affair—whatever can be fitted in if we can hire another house—or sink our pride and ask Claudine if we may still hold it here?”

  “We’ll do neither,” Henry said, looking horrified at the mere suggestion. “Harley Street! You could not condemn the poor child to that! No, Claude has said he wishes for my help, and he will need it for several weeks to come, and we will stay here. Charlotte shall have her ball here. I’ll move out of the main bedroom, but I’ll not move out of the house until the end of the season. Besides, damn it, they’re my servants, and he’d never find suitable ones at this time to replace them. Afterwards he can do as he wishes, for we’ll be back at the Manor. Probably he’ll want to go to Rowanlea for a time, and to the hunting-box, and that little property Frederick’s godmother left him in Yorkshire. That should occupy him for a couple of weeks or more. Harley Street!”

  “Very well, Henry, if you think it best, I suppose we can endure it,” Lady Weare said resignedly, and when her brother had taken himself off, wondered whether she was doing the right thing, or whether it would have been better to move at once. But the thought of Charlotte’s ball gave her determination, and it was with the intention of remaining in Grosvenor Square at all costs, at least until after the ball, that she finally fell asleep.

  * * * *

  Charlotte escaped early the following morning. Harry, looking rather bleary-eyed, had appeared as s
he was eating a solitary breakfast, and said he wanted to talk.

  “Have something to eat,” she suggested, waving at the sideboard lavishly spread with several chafing dishes, rolls, and toast.

  He shuddered. “No, I couldn’t, thank you.”

  She poured him coffee and he drank it down gratefully.

  “ Did you drown your sorrows?” Charlotte asked with interest. “If you did, you are abroad remarkably early. I seem to recall that most of the time you don’t get up before noon.”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” he confessed. “This damnable situation is worrying me. And I wasn’t drinking. Well, not much, just a bottle or two. Go and change, and let’s ride.”

  Charlotte, swiftly drinking up her coffee, wrapped a couple of rolls in a napkin and promised she would meet him down at the stables in ten minutes. Without calling for Jenny she stripped off the morning gown she was wearing and pulled on a simple shirt and her old blue habit. Not bothering with a stock, she tied a cravat round her neck in a simple knot, and pulled on her riding boots. Picking up her new hat, similar to a man’s top hat, whip, and leather gloves, she ran down the back stairs and arrived breathless as Harry led out his own mount, a glossy black stallion, and her favorite mare, a pretty chestnut with a white blaze and three white socks.

  They were soon in the Park, away from the noise of carriages, horses, and heavy wagons bringing produce into the city, and able to talk. There was little new to say.

  “How can he be an imposter?” Charlotte asked when Harry had repeated his suspicions. “He looks like Frederick, or at least what I would have expected Frederick to look like when he grew up.”

  “I don’t know, nor do I know what we can do about it,” Harry said. “Oh, damnation!” he added, staring across the Park. “I can’t believe Jack’s trying to cut me out with Elizabeth.”

  Charlotte followed his gaze and saw Jack and Elizabeth approaching them. She couldn’t fathom Jack’s motives for paying Elizabeth such attentions. It couldn’t be to make Harry jealous, for he was that already of any man Elizabeth smiled at. Then she thought of their race, and decided this would be an opportune moment to enlist Elizabeth.