by Jane Charles
“Miss Cooper hasn’t been down yet.”
Matthew leaned forward to gaze inside. Misters Draker, Thorn and Richards stood by the open doors leading to the terrace.
“I didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary with them and thought to save you the same fate.”
“All three men are parishioners, Jordan. I really shouldn’t avoid them,” Matthew gave a half-hearted argument.
Jordan studied him for a moment. “Will you answer a question, honestly for me?”
Matthew had a sinking suspicion he was not going to like what Jordan asked. “I will.”
“Are you remaining a Vicar because it is expected of you, what father said you had to be, or because it is what you really wish to do?”
Matthew opened his mouth but he didn’t have an answer on the tip of his tongue.
“We should do what we want, not what has been dictated to us,” Jordan continued. “You certainly can afford to do as you wish. It isn’t as if you need the income.”
Jordan spoke the truth but what else would he become?
“Only Clay doesn’t have a choice, being the heir. But, he married on his own terms and has chosen to live life as he wished and not how father would have dictated. Had he, he would be in a miserable marriage raising children as miserable as we were.”
“Were we all that unhappy?”
Jordan simply studied him. “Not as much as you and Clay. At least I was let free of my studies, but there is little fun when you are stuck on an estate with an overbearing father and only one brother instead of three to play with.”
“You were able to play.”
Jordan’s smile was sad. “More so than you.”
Matthew recalled the days of staring out the library window, Bible open on his lap, watching Jordan and John run about the lawn and climbing trees. He had longed to be with them more than anything, but it wasn’t allowed any more than it was for Clay, who worked endless hours with his tutor in another corner of the library until he was sent off to school. There were several times Matthew had suffered the pangs of jealousy, at having been born third and not given a choice, instead of second where he was free.
He shook the maudlin thoughts from his mind. “It doesn’t matter. It is in the past.”
“And we are free of his tyranny.”
Matthew chuckled. “Tyranny? I don’t think I would go that far.”
Jordan arched an eyebrow. “Are you so sure? He ruled with an iron fist and a willow switch at the ready. We didn’t dare question his authority.”
“We no longer need worry about beatings, and haven’t for some time,” Matthew reminded him.
“No, we are free.”
“And you are well on your way to becoming the barrister you wished to be.”
Jordan grinned. “Do you think I will be a good barrister?”
“If the judges were women you wouldn’t lose a case.”
His brother laughed but most of his humor died. “It is what I want to do, and I think I would make a damned good barrister.”
Matthew clamped him on his shoulder. “As do I.”
“Which brings me back to my original question. Are you doing what you wish?”
Matthew turned away to study the three men through the window. “I don’t know. I’ve always knew this is what I must do and would never let myself think of anything else, and certainly not contemplate a different vocation.”
“Now you can.”
He thought for a moment. He could write the bishop and resign his post easily enough but then what would he do. He had no skills.
“If it is truly your calling to be a minister, I will say no more,” Jordan said quietly.
Matthew looked over his shoulder and met Jordan’s eyes. “That is just it. I am not sure.”
Why were those three here, again? Grace took a deep breath and stepped into the room. They rushed toward her with greetings.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen. To what do I owe this visit?”
“Clearly it is obvious, Miss Cooper,” Mr. Draker announced.
She hitched an eyebrow.
“Your father,” Mr. Richards explained.
“Is not up to visitors.”
“We know,” Mr. Thorn answered. “But this attack and his condition has left you in further need of a husband.”
Grace took a deep breath and tried to calm the irritation that built the moment she was in the presence of these gentlemen.
“It is because of my father’s current condition that I do not have time to meet with any of you or consider the future.” She turned on her heel and marched toward the door. “Good day.”
“Wait, Miss Cooper,” Mr. Richards called out.
She stopped and turned. “I really do not have time for this at the moment. I don’t even know if my father will live through the day. So please, leave.”
There was another brisk knock at the front door and Grace stifled a sigh. Why all these visitors, today of all days. With a deep breath she opened the door to find her uncle standing on the threshold. He was the last person she wished to speak with. He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. Grace didn’t even bother to offer a greeting.
“I want to see my brother.” He towered over her, probably trying to intimidate her into doing his bidding, but it wouldn’t work.
“He is not up to visitors at the moment. Perhaps if you came back tomorrow.”
“I will not be put off,” he yelled and leaned toward her. “I had to learn of the attempt on his life from someone else. You didn’t even bother to send word.”
Grace straightened her spine and looked him in the eye, determined not to cower as he probably hoped she would. “I did not feel it was necessary to send word.”
“Not necessary!” he bellowed. “He is my brother.”
“Who you haven’t bothered to see in two years,” Grace countered.
“Lord Stillwaite, we are so glad you have arrived.”
Grace turned to find the three lords standing behind her in the foyer.
Her uncle looked at them and then back at her. “Tsk, tsk, Grace. Were you entertaining three gentlemen without the benefit of a chaperone? Something really should be done before you are ruined beyond all repair.”
“They called on me and I was just asking them to leave.”
“As we are all here, perhaps now is a good time to discuss Miss Coopers’ betrothal,” Mr. Thorn stepped forward.
A headache began at the base of her skull and Grace used every bit of control she had in her possession not to yell. “As Stillwaite is not my guardian there is no need for further discussion of my future.”
“But your father …,” Mr. Richards began to argue.
“My father will make decisions once he is better recovered or until Lord Brachton takes the ability from him.” She couldn’t stand to be around the four of them any longer. “Good day gentlemen.” As she couldn’t force each from the house, she turned on her heel and marched to her father’s bedchamber and closed the door. With any luck they would all be gone soon.
She settled into her chair beside his bed and picked up this cold hand. “Oh, Papa, please recover soon, before uncle has me married off to one of those three.”
Matthew and Jordan moved further toward the door leading to the parlor when the three men left the room. Sounds from the foyer drew them closer and they listened silently to the exchange.
“My niece has been left too long on her own,” Lord Stillwaite announced as soon as the door to Mr. Cooper’s bedchamber clicked shut.
“What did Brachton say,” Mr. Thorn asked.
“Bah, that man won’t make a decision until he knows what or who caused my brother’s fall.” Stillwaite stepped to the threshold of the room and both Matthew and Jordan ducked out of sight. Each pressed against the outside wall on either side of the doors. There was barely enough room to hide between the windows and on either side of the entry.
“They say someone tried to kill him,” Mr. Richards
announced.
For a moment there was silence in the room and Matthew wondered if a confession would spill from someone’s lips. Instead, he heard glass clinking against glass as one or more gentleman made themselves comfortable in Cooper’s home. Most likely it was Stillwaite, who believed all of this should be his.
“Well, gentlemen, it is only a matter of time before I have control of my brother and niece, and intend to make changes.”
“What kind of changes?” Mr. Richards asked with hesitation.
“First,” Stillwaite began. “This land could be much more profitable.”
“But the land still belongs to Miss Cooper,” Mr. Thorn reminded him. “You would only act as the guardian. Once her father dies she inherits or it is held in trust, depending on if she marries.”
“Then it is in my best interest that my niece not marry.”
Matthew looked at Jordan. Their eyes met.
The three gentlemen voiced their arguments quickly, talking over one another in such a manner that Matthew wasn’t sure who was saying what.
“Unless it is to my benefit, of course,” Stillwaite spoke over them.
Silence followed.
“If each of you could offer a good reason why I should grant you Grace’s hand, I will give it considerable thought.”
“You would live here?” Mr. Draker asked.
“No,” Stillwaite laughed. “I prefer London, but I can’t leave this estate in the hands of just anyone. If I don’t find the right husband for Grace, an estate manager will need to be hired, one that I trust.”
“I assume such would not be necessary if Grace married,” suggested Mr. Draker.
“Therein lays my dilemma.” Stillwaite chuckled. “I can hire an estate manager, send my brother off to Bedlam and take Grace to London. Once she has enjoyed one Season she will have no desire to be tied to this place.”
“Or?” Mr. Richard’s prompted.
“For the right price, I will marry her off to one of you, and you can decide what is best for her and her father.”
“For a price!” Draker clarified.
“Of course, everything has a price. What are you willing to offer?”
“Usually it is the other way around. A dowry comes with the bride.”
“This is an unusual circumstance,” Stillwaite reminded Thorn.
“If you managed the property, what would you do with it?” Richards asked.
“Nothing so mundane as to try and make a profit off of milk and eggs.” Once again Matthew heard the sound of glass clicking. He must be pouring himself another drink. “Farming would bring a good profit. The land is fertile and hasn’t been farmed in decades, if ever.”
“A waste,” Richards said in disgust.
“What would you do, if you were granted control, of course?” Stillwaite asked.
“It should be mined. I am sure this ground is rich in iron ore.”
“Or coal,” Thorn interrupted. “Or both. It is a shame to see such bounty go to waste.”
“I hadn’t considered that. Are you sure iron ore or coal deposits will be found?”
“We are sure of it,” Thorn answered. “Studies have already been done. We presented the reports to Mr. Cooper before his accident but he refused to even consider the possibility. The man was mad before he was struck in the head.”
“What of you?”
Matthew assumed the questing was directed to Draker as he hadn’t voiced his plans, and the brother seemed to take no offense to how Thorn just spoke of his brother.
“Both are equally sound investments and probabilities, but I would add sheep.”
“Sheep?” Richards questioned.
“Have you gentlemen paid attention to the price of wool? Sheep are a sure thing. Coal and iron ore are mere speculation.”
“Tell me, do any of you gentlemen actually care for my niece?”
“As much as one should for a wife, I suppose,” Draker answered.
“There are worse ladies a gentleman could be forced to marry,” Richards responded.
“She has what I need so we will make do,” Thorn acknowledged.
“I see,” Stillwaite said.
There was silence for a moment before Thorn spoke. “We think you should be aware of an agreement already reached.”
“Oh?”
“As it will take great resources to begin mining and purchasing sheep, resources the three of us do not have unless we combine our funds, two of us will invest in the third, the one who Miss Cooper decides upon.”
“You already decided?” Stillwaite clarified.
“Yes,” Draker answered. “A year ago, so I don’t see the need to pay you for something we have already agreed upon.”
“You do if you wish me to grant you her hand. I will be named guardian.”
Matthew stared at Jordan. He knew they were thinking the same thing. It didn’t matter who married Miss Cooper because they would profit equally. Any one of the suitors could have helped Mr. Cooper up the stairs and then pushed him. It mattered not since they would share equally. But, which one had it been. All three were in the vicinity when Mr. Cooper was injured and each one had a reason to hurry the proceedings. If they made an agreement a year ago they were probably growing more impatient by the day.
As much as Matthew tried to work further on his sermon and prepare for Sunday, he barely managed to write a dozen more words. Too often he found himself leaving the desk in Mr. Cooper’s library and making his way to the man’s bedchamber to check on his progress as well as to see how Grace was holding up. She hardly left her father’s side and she tried several times to get broth and tea past the man’s lips, succeeding more often than not in spilling it on Mr. Cooper’s bedclothes, which had now been changed three times. Though her hair was now brushed and neatly tied behind her head and out of the way, and she wore a fresh dress, one without wrinkles, Grace was pale and her face drawn from the worry. Every time Matthew tried to work all he could do was think of her and the terrible strain she was under and was once again drawn to her. He longed to give her comfort, ease her burden but was at a loss at how to proceed.
Night was near and Matthew gave up trying to write the perfect sermon and pushed away from the desk to stand at the window overlooking the back gardens, now shadowed with the setting sun. The patterns and formed mounds of different varieties of plants led Matthew to believe these had once been elegant but were now wild with late blooming flowers and weeds. Grace certainly didn’t have time to see to the chore, not with the many duties that settled upon her shoulders since her father’s injury. It was really too much for one so young to bear, but what choices were there? The Coopers didn’t have the funds for household help. Even though he shouldn’t have pried Matthew had reviewed the family finances this afternoon. Had Miss Cooper not shown he and Jordan the ledger earlier he might not have invaded her privacy. Or, perhaps he would have. Matthew would never know. But, the crux of the matter was the family was barely surviving financially. Perkins was paid a pittance to what valet’s usually earned, yet the man remained by Mr. Cooper’s side. Even now, he was in a chair within the man’s room, waiting to be needed.
Her earnings from the milk, eggs and Sunday school teaching didn’t meet the family needs. Soon she would have no choice but to fall into debt. Until her father’s injuries two years earlier, the family had been wealthy. Such was not the case now.
Perhaps a guardian was the best choice for Miss Cooper and her father, or even marriage. His stomach tightened at the thought of her married to anyone yet he forced himself to consider the possibilities despite his discomfort. If Draker, Thorn or Richards had an affection for Miss Cooper perhaps he would feel differently, but most likely not. She was nothing more than a means to an end. A woman to marry, no different and with less emotion than those in society approached marriage. She would be miserable in such a union, especially if they allowed Stillwaite to send her father to Bedlam. Matthew knew he couldn’t and wouldn’t allow her to marry Draker, Thorn or
Richards, but what could he do to prevent a match?
Matthew could marry her himself, but was that right, or any different than what the other gentlemen proposed? He would save her from them, and insist that Mr. Cooper remain home where he could get the best of care. But he was just as certain Stillwaite would not allow such a match because Matthew had no intention of allowing the man to profit from circumstances. Then again, he could pay almost any price the man demanded, but was he willing to? In normal circumstances, yes, but it galled him that the man wished to profit from the misfortune of his brother.
Matthew shook his head and turned away from the window. There was no point in worrying about who Grace would or would not marry. Brachton was not about to give Stillwaite that power until they had gotten to the bottom of who tried to kill Mr. Cooper. He had hoped someone would say something today that would cast suspicion on themselves but nobody indicated they were involved, not even Stillwaite. But, there was nobody else who could have possibly been responsible unless there was some madman roaming the country, locking cooks in cellars and tossing old men downstairs for no apparent reason.
He glanced over at the settee. That is where he would spend the night. He was tired enough to sleep for a week, but not on something so narrow and short but he didn’t dare make use of an empty bedchamber above stairs. Mrs. Montgomery had caused enough damage after this morning and Matthew really should not spend another night in the house. But, he couldn’t leave Grace and her father unprotected either. Tomorrow he would need to make arrangements for staff to work in the house. He would pay for it himself and not only would Grace not be alone, but she would have a chaperone to sit with her if the gentlemen called again, someone to cook meals and a few large footmen to protect the family. It was too late to make such arrangements now and Matthew wished he would have thought of it sooner. Hopefully nobody would know that he spent the night, again.
Grace’s head dropped to her chest and she jerked her head back up. Every muscle in her body ached from sitting in this chair, but she loathed to leave her father’s side. Three times he had awakened and looked at her. There was a sadness in his eyes and she wished he could tell her what he was feeling or thinking. Better yet, who had pushed him down the stairs? In time he would.
