The Forgotten Marquess

by Jane Charles

  “Where is Bowerton now?” Gideon demanded.

  “He and Culling have gone off to Brussels with half of England,” Garretson frowned. “Ever since Wellington began rebuilding the army, Society has flocked there. Ladies holding balls and gentry carrying on as if it were the height of the Season. But, now that Napoleon has been defeated, I’m certain they will return.

  “That could be weeks,” Gideon complained.

  Garretson shrugged. “We’ll make do, I suppose.”

  “This is a bloody mess.” Gideon took a deep drink of his wine. “As Jamie’s accuser is not present, is it possible to drop the charges and release him?” Gideon asked after a moment.

  Garretson looked at him thoughtfully. “It’s possible, I suppose. I’ll ask that the magistrate allow Bowerton no longer than a fortnight to present himself or the charges will be dropped.”

  Two weeks was not what Tristan had hoped but at least this matter wouldn’t be allowed to drag on indefinitely.

  Elaina waited to be the last to exit the church on Sunday morning. She’d put off calling on Pastor Morgan, but could do so no longer.

  As the last of the parishioners turned for their homes, Pastor Morgan focused on her. “Is all well, Miss St. Anne?”

  Oh, she wished people would just call her Elaina. It was the only part of her name that really did belong to her. “I need your counsel,” she finally admitted.

  “Come inside so we can talk.”

  They settled onto a pew and Pastor Morgan waited patiently for her to speak as Elaina struggled to find the right words. She didn’t want him to think ill of her for even considering Clive’s proposal if it was wrong to do so.

  “Is this because Clive has asked you to marry him?”

  Elaina blinked at the pastor.

  “I know of his desire to make you his wife.”

  At least she didn’t need to explain.

  “What is it that you wish?” he asked.

  Elaina frowned. She hadn’t much thought about what she wanted, other than she didn’t want to be alone for the rest of her life. She’d been more focused on the right and wrong of the situation, so Elaina explained her concern.

  “You fear that if you are married and you then marry Clive that you’ll be committing adultery.”

  “Yes.”

  “May I ask you a question?”

  “Of course,” Elaina answered.

  “Are you married in your mind? Do you think of yourself as married?”

  It was a question she wasn’t certain how to answer. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you married in your heart? Do you long for another even if you have no memory of him or a name to attach to that love?”

  Again she frowned. “No.” She did have a deep longing, as if something was missing. Something very important was gone, but she couldn’t allow herself to dwell on what it may be because she’d drive herself to Bedlam or be so overcome with emotions that she couldn’t continue. That is not how one should live their life when they’d never find answers no matter how hard they sought them.

  “Do you love Clive?”

  “I care for him.”

  “People have married for worse reasons,” Pastor Morgan admitted.

  “What should I do?” Elaina finally asked. “I don’t want to sin.”

  “Elaina, I have to believe that if there was a husband out there missing his wife, he would have found you by now.”

  Unless he didn’t want her. It was another scenario that had played out in her mind. What if she had a husband and he’d seen her go over the side of the ship but didn’t care enough to find her, or simply assumed she died and continued with his life. He might have even remarried.

  “What I believe is that you were a lady, traveling with your husband. I further believe that he was lost at sea like so many others, leaving you a widow and I can’t help but wonder if because that loss was so painful that you cannot recall it.”

  She blinked at him. Was it possible to make your mind forget things because the memories are too distressing? If so, had she loved her husband so deeply that she couldn’t accept that he was gone from her life?

  “I believe you are a widow. But, even if you are not, God will not punish you if you take another as a husband. You are not knowingly committing a sin and the fact that you are so afraid that you might, tells me that you are not entering into this decision lightly. God understands.”

  Pastor Morgan had just given her permission to marry, and it wasn’t what she’d expected. Now she must truly decide what she wanted and needed.

  Chapter 5

  The magistrate ordered Bowerton to return within a fortnight. If Bowerton failed to appear, then all charges against Jamie would be dropped. A special messenger was sent directly to Brussels, which would allow plenty of time for Bowerton to receive word and return.

  Jillian wasn’t happy that their departure for Cornwall had been delayed yet again, but this time she didn’t argue or pout, but sent Tristan on his way with hopes that this would all end soon so that they could get on with the business of planning their wedding.

  Jillian might have been in a hurry, but Tristan was not. Unfortunately, he could only put off their marriage for so long before His Grace began to demand answers.

  However, that wasn’t his concern since Jamie had yet to be cleared, which was the most important matter at the moment.

  “I can’t believe you are married,” Tristan said to his younger brother, Gideon, who had just told them about his handfasting to Arabella MacGregor. He’d left her in Scotland and had raced home when word reached him about Jamie.

  “Handfasted.”

  “That ridiculous practice that was mentioned as an alternative in that gentleman’s magazine?” Garretson asked.

  “It is where the idea came from, and it gave Arabella peace.”

  “If you were to be my husband, I’d like to know there was an escape after a year as well,” Jamie laughed.

  Gideon just glared at him, but said nothing further.

  “You’ve not told Sophia?” Tristan asked.

  “I was too worried about finding the blasted bill of sale and then coming to Wyndhill and didn’t wish to suffer through her questions and demands,” Gideon admitted. “I had hoped to tell the family once we were all together.”

  “You will send for your wife?” Jamie asked.

  “As soon as this matter of you stealing a horse is settled, I will retrieve Arabella and bring her to Cornwall. However, I should write and advise her of our progress since we leave for Newmarket tomorrow.”

  It was at the end of the fortnight that they’d given Bowerton and they were prepared to insist that all charges be dropped.

  “Will your wife be joining us tomorrow?” Jamie asked. He’d yet to meet Lady Jillian.

  “She wishes to remain in Portsmouth,” Tristan advised. “When I visited with her yesterday, she had no wish to go to London and will await my return. As others believe that we are only to be betrothed, she wanted no suspicion cast upon her character if someone were to see us traveling together.”

  “You don’t appear bothered,” Gideon observed.

  “Frankly, I dread the day that the two of us will become husband and wife in the eyes of Society and wish to put it off as long as possible.”

  “Is she so bad?” Jamie asked.

  “I got on well with Jillian. However, her manipulation destroyed any fond feelings I might have held for her.”

  After they’d settled into a coaching inn, Gideon, along with Tristan, Jamie and Garretson called on the magistrate.

  “Ah, gentlemen, I was going to send a missive shortly,” he announced.

  “The charges have been dropped,” Jamie asked hopefully.

  The magistrate shook his head. “Unfortunately not. I’m afraid that all formal charges will need to be decided in London. Given the serious nature, the members of the Jockey Club wish that this matter be decided by the Bow Street Magistrates’ Court. Trial is set to begin on Jul
y 10th.”

  While Tristan wished for this matter to be over, he had no complaints with regard to yet another reprieve from becoming Jillian’s husband in truth. “What of Bowerton?”

  “I’ve heard nothing of the gentleman, but I assume he was given the same instructions—to be present to give testimony against Mr. Trent.”

  “I know nothing of the court system,” Tristan complained as their carriage traveled toward London.

  “We do know Jordan Trent,” Gideon reminded them. “He is a Solicitor and perhaps he could give us some guidance.”

  At least he prayed that was the case. It was also beneficial that Trent was a member of the Jockey Club, so instead of settling into their townhouse in London, the brothers and Garretson traveled on to Trent’s breeding stables just outside of Oxford.

  After they were settled into the parlor, Jamie explained the charges in detail and Gideon explained his involvement as well.

  “I can assure you that it is the opinion of the Jockey Club, given your reputation and that of Bowerton, that he is the one who has made a false claim,” Jordan insisted.

  “Yet, it is a case that must be decided before the Bow Street Magistrates’ Court,” Tristan advised.

  Jordan gave a sober nod. “I will do what I can come Monday,” he assured. “In the meantime, would you like to remain here or will you be returning to Mayfair?”

  “If you do not mind, I would prefer to remain here so as not to be seen in Society.”

  Jordan raised an eyebrow in question, which led to Tristan explaining his rushed, yet still secret marriage.

  “I cannot blame you for wishing to avoid Eldridge,” Jordan grimaced. “His Grace is one of the least pleasant gentleman I’ve ever had the displeasure of encountering.”

  It had been ten days since she’d talked to Pastor Morgan, but Clive hadn’t pressed his suit, as he hadn’t called on Elaina. Since Napoleon’s defeat, he’d been making determinations as to his merchant business, now that owning ships for the purposes of privateering was no longer as lucrative, and it was likely the smuggling business would not continue either.

  Elaina was rather relieved that he hadn’t been around because it gave her time to think on her options. It also gave her time to miss Clive. He’d become almost a daily presence in her life and by the end of the sennight, she was missing him.

  However, Rebecca gave her no peace.

  “Is your desire for me to accept Clive’s proposal because you’d like me gone?” Elaina finally asked. Afterall, she’d been living with the couple for three years and they might want her out of their home but were too kind to ask her to leave and by marrying, she’d be leaving under good terms.

  “Heavens, no. Whatever gave you that idea?” Rebecca seemed truly shocked.

  “You are more anxious for me to wed than perhaps Clive.”

  “It’s only because I want you to be happy, settled. A home to call your own, Maybe children.”

  Her stomach tightened. Why did the thought of children upset her?

  “Perhaps,” Elaina finally responded without conviction. She didn’t see herself with children, and wasn’t certain she even wanted to be a mother. In fact, the very idea was disturbing. Would Clive want them? Could she convince him that they weren’t necessary? It wasn’t as if he had a title or entailed estates that required an heir.

  The opportunity for the discussion came later that afternoon when Clive arrived to take her for a stroll.

  “I’m sorry that I’ve not called on you sooner.”

  “I know that you’ve been busy,” Elaina assured him.

  “If you were my wife, then I’d be able to see you every day, no matter how busy my work.”

  Instead of answering, Elaina said nothing, unable to find the words.

  “What is it Elaina? What did Pastor Morgan tell you?”

  “That I should be free to marry you.”

  At that he gave a whoop and picked her up, turning her around before he set her back on the ground and kissed her.

  Elaina was so taken aback that she stumbled, but his strong arms held her steady and then pulled her close.

  Strong arms to hold her and a chest to rest her head upon. It really came down to something so simple, and in that moment, it was all Elaina longed for so she pushed any concern for children to the back of her mind.

  “Elaina St. Anne, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

  She stared up into his warm brown eyes. She did care for him and she didn’t want to be alone. “Yes Clive, I’ll marry you.”

  Once again, he gave a whoop and picked her up and turned around.

  “Come to supper tomorrow,” he urged.

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yes. I’m entertaining new business partners and I’d like for them to meet my betrothed.”

  Now that the war between France and England was at an end, Clive needed to focus on legal shipment of goods.

  “Are you certain? I really shouldn’t go to a bachelor’s home.”

  “I’ll invite the Colonel and his wife, so that your reputation isn’t harmed.”

  “Very well, I will dine with you.”

  Chapter 6

  The days that they waited for the trial were few, but long. In the meantime, Tristan had received word from Jillian that she’d vacated Harrison’s set of rooms and taken up residence in a local inn because she feared her father coming after her. She’d been gone long enough now that he should have received correspondence with dates for when the banns would be called and a date for the wedding, but she couldn’t bring herself to write to him to tell him the truth of the situation, though it was likely he’d heard of the charges leveled against Jamie.

  As much as Tristan wanted to put off the final vows, he did feel for Jillian being stuck in such an unpleasant circumstance, but it wouldn’t have changed if she was with him, in Portsmouth or had even continued on to Cornwall. His Grace would not receive a letter until all was settled with Jamie and their plans had been solidified.

  Solidified! Tristan’s’ stomach tightened, as if it were warning him not to do this, but it wasn’t as if he had a choice. Besides, it was already too late. He and Jillian were married.

  As the day of the trial dawned, tension built as they made their way to Bow Street. After they filed into the courtroom, Jamie was taken and placed in the dock reserved for the accused and to watch as the trial unfolded.

  “Jonathan James Trent you are accused of horse theft, how do you plead?”

  “Not guilty,” his brother answered.

  “We will have testimony.” The judge focused on the magistrate. “Call your first witness.”

  The man glanced around. “Neither Lord Bowerton, the accuser, nor Mr. Culling are present, Your Honor. They were to give testimony to the crime in question.”

  “You have no witnesses, or an accuser, yet the defendant is present.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “And, am I to understand he has not been sitting in Newgate awaiting a ruling as to his guilt or innocence?”

  “The magistrate did not feel it necessary and the defendant was held under house arrest,” the prosecutor explained.

  “He is here when he could have escaped.” The judge shook his head. “Yet the accuser has not bothered to appear.” He looked to Jamie. “Are there any witnesses to speak on your behalf?”

  As Jamie opened his mouth, the door to the chamber opened and in marched Garretson. Though Tristan was glad to see the gentleman, he could offer nothing but support.

  Instead, Tristan focused back on the judge. Could they still try Jamie if nobody was here to speak against him?

  “Do you have testimony against the accused to offer, Lord Garretson?”

  “No. However, I just received correspondence that should clear Lord Jonathan Trent.”

  “Bring it forward,” the judge ordered.

  Garretson approached the judge and handed him the parchment.

  The judge took it and balanced a pair of speckles on his nose and read. His e
yebrows rose a few times, and then he folded the parchment and handed it back to Garretson, who backed away and then took a seat beside Tristan.

  “As the accuser is not present, though word of his death has not been made public, nor is his witness available, I hereby dismiss all charges against Lord Jonathan James Trent.”

  Relief shook Tristan at the bang of the gavel and Jamie made his way to them, a bit shaky himself.

  “What was in that letter?” Jordan asked

  Garretson laughed and handed the missive over. Tristin read over Jordan’s shoulder.

  * * *

  The Right Honorable Earl of Garretson,

  I must inform you that Lord Steven Bowerton will not be returning to England. On the eve of the great battle, he became inebriated and fell from the third story window of a house of ill-repute and fractured his neck. I am told that a goat was the instigator in his fall. While this has not been confirmed, I find little to doubt as this particular brothel tends to cater to the degenerates of our gender.

  As my friend is gone, his hold on me is also broken. Lord Jonathan James Trent did not steal the white Arabian. It was a fair sale in which Bowerton took and pocketed the money but failed to record the transaction. As for the bill of sale, I do not know what became of it, but I suspect Bowerton was somehow behind its disappearance.

  I apologize for my actions in this matter, but Lord Jonathan James Trent should be set free without a blemish on his good character.

  Yours,

  Mr. Gregory Culling

  “A goat?” Jamie asked in disbelief.

  “It’s best we don’t dwell on the particulars,” Gideon snorted.

  “Well, I suppose that puts all matters to rest.” Garretson handed the letter over to Jamie. “You should keep this as the bill of sale is missing and in the event anyone else wishes to question your honor and character.”

  “Thank you, Garretson. And thank you for keeping me out of Newgate.”