The Scandalous Saga of the White Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Hanna Hamilton

  “Not at all. Staff will take care of all of that,” Maria said.

  Anna gave a last look around the party. It did look as though others were thinking of leaving. Except for the group around Aunt Agatha who was still keeping her audience enthralled with her adventure stories.

  The sisters were quiet on the ride back to Repington Hall. But Anna roused herself to ask Dorothy, “Did you enjoy the evening?”

  Dorothy opened her closed eyes and said sleepily, “I did. Is not that Mr. Stewart charming? He dances very well and was very attentive to me.”

  “Yes, I think he finds you very charming.”

  “But was he not to be your partner for the evening?”

  “There were not any set plans. However, I think he warmed to your charms and cooled to mine.”

  “Oh, Anna, that cannot be so. I believe he danced with you as much as he danced with me.”

  Anna suddenly became excited. “In any case, the highlight of the evening for me was to have Harry ask me to build a well house for him. Can you imagine? My first commission.”

  “A well house. That is not very glamorous.”

  “I know. But it is a start, and I promised him it would be the best well house in all of Great Britain.”

  Dorothy laughed. “Really, Anna, it takes very little to make you happy, is that not so?”

  Anna rested her head back against the seat of the coach. “I guess so. But since Father will not let me build for him, then I must take what I can get.”

  Chapter 10

  Anna could barely sleep that night. She was up early the next morning and went directly to the library where her drawings were laid out on the desk. She did not even go to breakfast since she was so excited to start working on drawings for the well house.

  Of course, she did not know the location of the well, nor had she been able to discuss details with Harry. But she thought, if she could come up with several suggestions, it might help him see what she had in mind and he might be able to decide quickly on what he wanted.

  She found she had worked for several hours when Warrick came into the library and asked. “Miss Anna, will you be having breakfast? Your sister has given instructions that she is sleeping late, and I wanted to clear the breakfast things away if you were not interested.”

  Anna’s head jerked up. “Oh good heavens, it is well after nine o’clock. I had no idea.” She thought for a moment. “If you would be so kind and bring me some tea, toast, and perhaps a rasher or two of bacon and some tomato on a tray. That would suit me, as I am deep in my work on a new project.”

  “As you wish, Miss Anna.”

  While she waited for her breakfast, she jumped up from the desk and began thumbing through a book on classical architecture. She had seen a charming fountainhead that graced a spring and she thought something along those lines might please Harry for his well.

  She was sitting atop a set of steps that the family used to get books from the high shelves. She was leafing through another book when Warrick returned with the breakfast tray.

  “Miss Anna…” he said setting the tray on the table. “Shall I pour your tea?”

  “Yes, please, Warrick.”

  But it was an hour later before she finally looked up and remembered she had not drunk any of her tea, nor touched any of her breakfast. She laughed. Was she obsessed? It seemed to be so.

  She scrambled down the steps, rang the bell for fresh tea, and went to her desk to begin some preliminary drawings with her head bursting with ideas.

  That same morning, Dorothy slept late after the exhaustion of preparing the flowers for the party and the many dances she had been invited to share with various partners last evening. As she awoke, she stretched and sat on the side of the bed. Her personal maid drew open the draperies and poured her the first cup of tea.

  When she finished, the maid said, “Miss, tea is ready,” then left the room.

  Dorothy stood at her window and watched the fluffy-white, summer clouds scuttle by. But she was surprised to see a horse and rider heading toward the house. She glanced at the clock and was surprised to see it was after ten-thirty. As the rider got closer, she could see it was Mr. Christopher. Was he coming to call on her or Anna? She could not take a chance and hurriedly dressed, after spending a moment to find just the perfect peach-colored cotton dress that was most agreeable with her skin tone.

  After she was dressed, she ran to her bedroom door, opened it, and listened to hear if Warrick might be coming her way to announce Christopher’s arrival. She could not hear anything, so she tiptoed to the top of the stairway that overlooked the entry hall and peered over the balustrade to see if she might spy Warrick coming up the stairs to fetch her. And to her utter delight he was.

  She ran back to her room, sat on her window seat and assumed a casual pose until there was a knock at her door.

  “Yes?” she asked nonchalantly.

  The door opened. “Miss Dorothy, there is a gentleman asking to see you. His name is Mr. Christopher Stewart. Are you in to him this morning?”

  Dorothy hesitated a moment for effect and said, “Yes, tell him I shall be down shortly.”

  “I will put him in the blue parlor. And shall I bring tea?”

  “Not certain, Warrick. I shall ring if we decide to have any.”

  “Very good, Miss.”

  Dorothy chose to take her time going down to greet Christopher. She did not want to seem anxious and felt a delay might strengthen his interest in her.

  She wanted her entrance to the blue parlor to be just perfect, So she put a summer shawl around her shoulders, picked up a book, and closed it around a flower she had plucked from an arrangement in her room. However, before going down, she looked in the mirror, pinched her cheeks to redden them and pulled a few strands of hair down around her face to look as though she might have been walking out of doors in the breeze.

  When she opened the parlor door, she was surprised to see Anna sitting with Mr. Christopher, as she poured tea.

  Anna looked up. “We were beginning to think you might not be coming down. I saw Mr. Stewart arrive from my window, but as no one was attending to him, I came to keep him company. I went ahead and ordered tea. I hope you do not mind.”

  Now Dorothy adored her sister, but she was more than a little angry at the moment. Why was Anna usurping her visit with Christopher? Could she not have seen last night that Christopher preferred her to her sister?

  “Not at all. Good morning both,” she said breezily as she settled into a chair by the tea table.

  “Good morning, Miss Dorothy. How refreshed you look after such a late night of dancing,” Christopher said.

  “Oh, it was nothing. It was such a delightful evening I arose refreshed quite early and have just come back from a long walk.”

  Who was she kidding? Anna did not believe her story, but she was not to be put off, and said, “Mr. Christopher, what brings you to Repington Hall this morning?”

  “I was hoping you and I might have a walk, but as you have just returned from one, I shall withdraw my offer.”

  Dorothy saw that Anna was amused by this whole charade, but Anna was too good a sister to interfere.

  “Then perhaps we could go for a ride together?” she said trying to rescue the situation. “We have many fine trails to ride on our estate. We even have a charming lake you might enjoy seeing.”

  “That sounds splendid,” Christopher said and smiled.

  Anna took her cue and said, “Then you must excuse me. But I must get back to work.” She addressed Christopher, “I am preparing drawings for Harry, as he has commissioned me to build a well house for him.”

  Christopher asked, “I did not know you were interested in building. What a strange occupation for a young lady.”

  “I am more interested in designing than actually constructing anything. But this is my first opportunity to design something for someone and it delights me no end.”

  “Excellent. I am certain it will be splendid.”
/>   “Thank you,” she said and left the two of them alone to enjoy their time together.

  “Here…” The Duke of Crauford said, pushing a paper across his desk to his son, Percy.

  “What is that?” Percy asked, picking up the paper and examining it. “It is just a list of names. What am I to do with this?”

  “Not just any names. They are the names of eligible young ladies with substantial dowries. Most live in London and I want you to go there and begin searching for a wife. I am sick to death of your lazy, no good ways. You need to do something for this family as soon as possible.”

  “And what is the rush? After all, you are the head of this family and the provider. Why do you need me to rush into an ill-considered marriage?”

  “I will have none of your insolence, young man. You will do as I say.”

  “Or what?” Percy asked standing his ground.

  “Or you will be out of this family and completely on your own. You can starve wherever you like, but you will not get one more penny from me unless you do as I ask.”

  “But you know I care for Maria Buxton. We have an understanding.”

  “And what exactly will she bring to the marriage?”

  “I believe she has several thousand. We have not discussed it in detail. Our relationship is not based on money.”

  “Huh… Well you had better start thinking about it. And you will need considerably more than that. All the ladies on that list bring at least thirty thousand… at the minimum.”

  “Then it is I who must save the family?”

  Arnold looked up and stared directly at his son. “Yes. Exactly. We need a large infusion of cash if we are to survive as a family.”

  “Let me speak with Maria first. I truly do not know what her situation is financially. What would you need to make our family whole?”

  “Twenty thousand minimum. But that would leave nothing for you and your wife to establish an independent living. You would need to live here.”

  “I will see what I can do,” Percy said quietly.

  “And if not, then off you go to London. Remember, you are to be a duke someday. That is certainly worth a great deal to a wealthy young lady with no title.”

  The Duke was in Marlborough in a meeting with a number of gentlemen who considered locating a cotton mill in the city. They had been in discussion all morning, but it was not going well for Arnold. He had offered his tenements as a possible location for the mill, but it required evicting all of his tenants and tearing down the buildings. But there were any number of other prime locations that did not require any preparation. These locations were ready to build on now.

  Arnold was visibly frustrated and showed his anger. This made matters only worse.

  “But why can you not see what a perfect location my property offers?” Arnold insisted.

  “What makes it any better than any of the others?” One of the negotiators asked.

  “It is prime riverfront property. Perfect for delivering raw materials and shipping out your product after it is made.”

  “But so are these others.”

  “But I can offer a better price,” Arnold insisted.

  “How much better?” another gentleman asked.

  Arnold wrote a new figure on a piece of paper and slid it across the table to the man. The gentleman looked at it but seemed unimpressed. “This is not a great deal better than our other offers and we would need to wait until the tenants were evicted and the building was demolished. It does not work for us. Thank you, Your Grace, but we need to go in another direction.”

  Now Arnold was really angry, and he pulled his papers together, placed them in his portfolio, and stormed out of the chamber.

  Chapter 11

  The Duke went directly to the nearest tavern and ordered a double scotch.

  He had several more and was becoming sullen, drunk, and morose when he felt someone tap his shoulder. He spun around thinking it was some bum trying to cadge a drink.

  “What?” he snapped. It was one of the gentlemen from the meeting—a scrawny, dried-up looking older man with thinning hair and red blotchy skin.

  The man looked as though he was reconsidering whether he wanted to speak to Arnold or not.

  “I am sorry, Mr. Campbell. I do not take rejection well,” Arnold mumbled.

  The gentleman appeared to change his mind and he called the barkeep. “I’ll have what he is having and another for him.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Come, sit with me. I have something I would like to discuss with you privately,” the gentleman said, and led them to a private table in a far corner of the tavern.

  They settled into place as the barkeep brought the drinks.

  “My good man, bring us a bottle of that for the table,” Arnold insisted.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Both gentlemen sipped their drinks for a moment in silence, and then Arnold asked, “And just what do you have to say to me? Have you rethought my proposal? Do you want to offer the deal to me?”

  The gentleman made a circle with his hand on the table, as though he was trying to wipe away a nonexistent spill.

  “No, it is about something else.”

  “Aye? And what is that?” Arnold asked, surly in his reply.

  “I have another proposal. It is a business deal that is… well… it… let us say is less than honorable.”

  “Explain.”

  “As you probably do not know, I am rather highly placed in the Church of England. I have some family money that is invested in rather low paying gilt-edge securities. However, I want to put that investment to better use.”

  “That makes sense,” Arnold said, pouring them each another drink from the bottle.

  “And I have the opportunity to invest, as I have said, in a venture that would not be appropriate for a churchman, such as myself, to be seen investing in.”

  “And that would be?”

  “African slaves bound for Jamaica.”

  “Oh.”

  “As I am sure you are probably aware, there is a great moral movement to abolish slavery afoot in this country at the moment. And while I find that to be quite a respectable position to hold publicly, privately, this opportunity is quite a golden opportunity for me to make a very nice and quick profit. And I am sure you can see my predicament.”

  “And why are you telling me this? Are you asking me to invest with you?”

  “Not at all. I am looking for a cover.”

  “I do not understand. And what has this got to do with me?”

  “Patience, my man. I shall explain. I cannot be seen to be dealing in the slave trade. And I am proposing that the deal be in your name. I shall, of course, set up and pay for the transaction, but I shall give you a nice piece of the profit for your part in the transaction.”

  “What will I need to do?”

  “Absolutely nothing. I shall take care of all the details, except that it will be in your name.”

  “And you will pay me what?”

  “A ten percent cut of the profit.”

  “And when will that be?”

  “When the shipment is received in Jamaica—in about ten months.”

  “Ten months? Are you serious? That is forever from now.”

  “But it will take time to set up our arrangement—to capture the slaves—transport them and take them to auction. These matters take time. It is an investment not an over the counter transaction. And I am not asking you to put up any of the money nor take any of the risk. Remember, there is always the risk of losses at sea. One cannot account for storms, shipwrecks, any number of diseases or other unforeseen misfortunes.”

  “And you are saying, all I need to do is lend you my name?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And what do you estimate my payout would be?” Arnold asked, pouring himself another drink.

  “Several thousand more or less.”

  “By several do you mean two, three, four thousand. Be more specific.”

 
“Two-five or three.”

  “And would there be similar opportunities like this in the future?”

  “I would like to think so—if you are still interested, of course.”

  Arnold rubbed his chin. “This would be strictly confidential—just between us?”