Master of His Fate

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Master of His Fate Page 20

by Barbara Taylor Bradford


  Mrs. Mulvaney, hovering behind Mrs. Ward, now asked, “Should I serve refreshments, madam? Tea or coffee? Or something cold, like lemonade?”

  “Which would you prefer, William? James?” Mrs. Ward glanced at them in turn.

  They both said that they would enjoy coffee. She told Mrs. Mulvaney that this beverage was also her preference.

  Once they entered the library, Mrs. Ward took a seat near the fire and beckoned for the two young men to join her. “The month of May it might be, but these old manors are always so cold, as you well know, William.”

  William nodded. “My mother has all the fires blazing the year round. It’s the wind coming off the North Sea, you know. It whistles through the houses.”

  She merely smiled at this comment, and then addressed them both when she asked, “What is this matter you wish to discuss with me?”

  James answered. “My great-aunt Marina informed me yesterday afternoon that Albert is spreading stories about us. He’s telling people we are … having an affair. Naturally, I was shocked when Aunt Marina told me this, appalled, actually, that he would lie in such a terrible way. I vehemently denied his accusation and told my aunt he was not only smearing my name, but impugning your good reputation.”

  James realized immediately that she had not heard the rumors and that she was genuinely shocked, as she stared back at him aghast. “Why would Albert lie about you and me? And how do we stop these false stories?”

  “I asked my aunt the same thing. She suggested I ignore them, rise above it all. William has said the same thing to me and advised me not to go near Albert, who enjoys physical fights.”

  Georgiana was even more startled, and she gaped at William, her face serious. “How horrendous this is. Does your father know?”

  “He does indeed, Mrs. Ward. He’s just heard the rumors and brought the matter up before supper last evening. He is going to deal with Albert very severely.”

  “Oh, I do hope so. I cannot have my reputation tainted.” She frowned, held herself perfectly still, digesting everything that had been said. She had known instantly that James had been the perfect gentleman, had lied to protect her. And mud stuck. But how would Clarence be able to kill the stories? That was her sudden worry.

  Looking directly at William, she asked quietly, “I am relieved to know your father will chastise your brother, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll stop his lying chatter, does it?”

  “Normally I would agree, Mrs. Ward,” William replied swiftly, realizing she needed reassurance. “Because we all know how incorrigible Albert is. However, my father told us he would threaten to disinherit him, if he didn’t stop maligning you and James. It’s really about James, you know. He’s jealous and envious of him. Even more so now than before.”

  “I understand. Because James saved the men, behaved with such valor, and—” She stopped speaking when Mrs. Mulvaney entered the library, carrying a tray. After serving coffee to Mrs. Ward and the two young men, she departed.

  They sipped their coffee and there was a short silence. This was eventually broken by Mrs. Ward, when she remarked, “Your father is a brilliant man. If anyone can put the fear of God into Albert, it is Clarence. I do hope he succeeds, not only for me but actually mainly for James, who is having such a success in business here. In a certain sense, it doesn’t really affect me, now that I think about it.”

  “What do you mean?” William stared at her, taken aback. “Albert’s lies do indeed affect you.”

  “Perhaps they would, if I continued to live in Hull, but, as a matter of fact, I have been planning to leave. And for some time now. When I mentioned to James that I wanted to sell the shares my husband left me, he suggested I go to your parents to ask them if they could recommend a good accountant and solicitor. Of course, they did. Your father introduced me to the two men who work with him.”

  She sat back in her chair, and finished, “They now represent me and my interests, and all my business matters are in their capable hands.”

  William nodded. “They will certainly do well by you, Mrs. Ward.” Glancing over at James, he remarked, “You did Mrs. Ward a really good turn when you sent her to my parents. Good show, James.”

  “Has your brother-in-law bought the shares your husband left you?” James asked, hoping her new representatives had made a good deal for her. He wanted the best for her. She was a good person, and had been nice to him. He was fond of her, and with a small jolt he realized he was going to miss her friendship here in Hull.

  “A negotiation is ongoing at the moment. I am sure that matters will be settled to my satisfaction. Ian MacDonald is my new solicitor, and he will also handle the sale of the house.”

  “So you don’t intend to return to Hull?” William interjected, sounding surprised.

  “No, I don’t. My family is in London, and I want to be near them. Originally, I was planning to visit them in June, for Ascot. However, I had a letter only yesterday from my brother-in-law, Leonard, who is married to my sister Deanna. She has not been well. He asked me if I could come to London sooner.”

  “When are you leaving?” James asked.

  “Before you both arrived, I was looking at my engagement book for the next week. I don’t seem to have anything special coming up. So I’m hoping to leave this weekend.”

  “Never to come back,” William murmured. “We shall all miss you, Mrs. Ward, especially my mother. Does she know you are leaving?”

  Georgiana inclined her head. “Some time ago I told her I was planning to take up residence at my house in Mayfair in June, because of the races at Ascot and the Summer Season. Obviously, she doesn’t know my plans have suddenly changed today, because of Leonard’s letter.”

  “Nevertheless, Albert does have to be stopped,” James announced in a firm voice. “He has maligned us both with his lies. He must be taught a strong lesson. His lying tongue can ruin other lives, and he’s a menace.”

  William looked at his friend and nodded. “True. Albert’s gotten away with many bad things, and over years.”

  Georgiana Ward was silent for a few moments, thinking of her friend Professor Allan Miller, who was an expert on mental illness. She leaned forward slightly, told them, “It is possible that Albert will never change. He might even be a sociopath. I have a friend who is an expert in the area of mental health, and he has told me some of his theories from time to time. For instance, a sociopath is someone who has no sense of remorse about what he does. He does not have the slightest empathy for other people and doesn’t understand their feelings. Don’t you think Albert is like that?”

  This question was addressed to William, and he was fast to answer. “I do indeed! And if that is actually what he is, a sociopath, he has to be stopped before he does something even worse than tell lies.”

  “That’s right,” James remarked, looking from William to Mrs. Ward. “Clarence will deal with him with great firmness; I’ve no doubt about that.” Now he smiled at Mrs. Ward, and, changing the subject, he said, “I agree with William. Everyone will miss you and your lovely company at all the suppers, dances, and balls. Hull society won’t be the same without you.”

  “What lovely compliments you are both paying me. I am very flattered,” Georgiana answered.

  Thirty-one

  The four of them sat at the best table in the Tamara. Clarence, Marina, William, and James had arrived together at five-thirty to partake of a special supper to celebrate James’s eighteenth birthday.

  His birthday was actually on Sunday, May 27, three days away, and he would be spending it in London with the Falconer clan, as he called them. He was excited about the trip home.

  But the Venableses were family, too. They had wanted to do something memorable for this unique young man who had proved so loyal and hardworking since his arrival seven months ago.

  Clarence and William had thought Marina’s idea of a supper was splendid. William had suggested they also buy him a gift which would convey their appreciation. After much discussion, th
ey had agreed to give him a pair of gold cufflinks, perfect for a young man of style and elegance as he was.

  They were gratified by the look of pleasure on his face when he opened the gift-wrapped package and saw the cufflinks. He was obviously thrilled to receive such a handsome gift, which they had given to him before leaving for the restaurant. Marina had suggested he exchange them for the ones he was wearing, and he had been happy to do so.

  Clarence was a jolly and hospitable host, and he insisted on ordering a bottle of champagne and some caviar when they first arrived at the Tamara so that they could toast James in the best way. After this Clarence and Marina settled down to enjoy the spirited atmosphere, the cheery sound of laughter and enjoyment, and the unusual mixture of people. In many ways, it was a revelation to them.

  When James saw the trio entering the room and going over to their designated corner spot, he was immediately excited, and exclaimed, “Aunt Marina, you love music, so do pay attention to the balalaika, that odd-looking instrument. It sounds like a mandolin. I love it.”

  Marina smiled and nodded, and then glanced at William. “What dishes do you recommend? I know it’s your favorite place.”

  “It is, and James’s, too. He likes the borscht, the beetroot soup. But there’re a number of local dishes as well. Let’s ask for menus.”

  These were brought to them at once. After studying his, Clarence said, “I’ve decided to have the soup James enjoys and the chicken you recommend, William.”

  Marina discussed certain dishes with James, taking her time, and eventually they had all chosen and ordered. They sat back to relax and finish the champagne. Clarence studied the wine list, focusing on red.

  At one moment, Marina said to James and William, “I’m glad Mrs. Ward wrote notes to you both before she left last week. I know she was very appreciative that you had gone to explain things to her. She’s such a nice woman, and I certainly hope her sister Deanna is better soon.”

  Clarence nodded. “I thought it was kind of her to invite us to join her in her brother-in-law’s box at Ascot. I’m rather regretful we weren’t able to accept.”

  “She wants us to call on her when we are next in London,” Marina remarked. “She has a lovely house in Mayfair. I said we would let her know in advance when we were planning to go up to town.”

  It was William who now asked, “What plans have your family made for your birthday, James? I’m sure it’s something special.”

  James began to laugh. “They haven’t told me anything and I know they won’t. Rossi and Eddie wrote and told me it’s something special but a huge secret. I’ll have to wait and see.”

  At this moment, the waiter arrived with bowls of borscht, which they had all ordered, and conversation came to an end as they lifted their spoons and dipped them into the beet soup topped with large dollops of thick cream.

  “We’re not being very adventurous, are we, Clarence?” Marina murmured when their second course was served. “Everyone’s selected chicken Kiev.”

  * * *

  Much later that night, sitting at the desk in his bedroom, James thought about the evening he had just spent with the Venableses. He had enjoyed it, as they had, and he was touched by their kindness and generosity to him.

  It was a relief to see his aunt smiling again, and Clarence now in a better mood. Ever since the revelation about Albert’s vile stories, his uncle had been upset and angry. Now that he had solved the problem he had become more like himself.

  What a joy it had been not to hear Albert’s name mentioned tonight. Nor had it been mentioned for several days. Thanks to advice from Clarence’s solicitor, Ian MacDonald, that very clever Scotsman, the Albert problem had gone away.

  Now, James couldn’t help thinking, but for how long? Certainly several months. He hoped it would be for longer, because in November he would be returning to London permanently. His year in Hull would come to an end.

  A knowing smile flickered on James’s face when he thought of Albert’s current fate. Clarence had decided to send him to Scotland, on the advice of Ian. He was to visit the various whisky companies, with the idea of Uncle Clarence exporting Scotch to the Baltic countries.

  Clarence had confided that it would take quite a few months to do this, and that Albert was going to be dealing with a lot of tough, very canny Scotsmen who would easily make mincemeat of him if he stepped out of line. That day in Clarence’s office, James had grinned. The memory was stuck in his head.

  “Och aye, they will indeed,” Ian MacDonald had volunteered, a sudden grin on his face. “Tough buggers at the best of times, but they have been forewarned to give Mr. Albert Venables an extremely hard time.”

  Clarence had also laughed then. And James had asked, “Then what? After his Scottish Highland fling? Are you really going to export whisky?”

  “I don’t know. I just needed to get Albert out of the way before I strangled him for his stupidity and villainous ways.”

  “Perhaps he’ll drown in a vat of whisky. That would solve everything,” James said, adding, “Just like the Duke of Clarence did and so obliged Edward the Fourth. But the duke drowned in a vat of wine.”

  “Ah, no such luck,” Clarence had muttered.

  The scene in his head, enacted days ago, faded away, but his mind was still filled with a myriad of thoughts. His eye caught the glitter of gold against the mahogany wood of the desk. He picked up a cufflink, examined it. A perfect plain oval, but beautifully made and solid gold. He would treasure the gift always …

  Unexpectedly, thoughts of the envelope slid into his head. He opened the middle drawer of his desk and took it out. Inside the envelope was the note from Mrs. Ward. William had received one and had assumed James’s note was the same thank-you note. But it wasn’t. James believed his was different.

  Taking the piece of embossed writing paper out of the envelope, he read the note for the umpteenth time.

  My dear James:

  I want to thank you for being so thoughtful to come and see me to inform me about those false stories. I am glad you brought William with you to give support. I have also written a thank-you note to him.

  Your advice has been invaluable to me, over these last few weeks, especially, and has helped me to feel much better in so many different ways. On another matter, I must add that I will never forget the night of the storm. You rescued me and little Polka, and gave me such amazing care as the weather worsened. Please believe me, I shall never forget what you did for me.

  When you return to live in London perhaps you would like to come and see me so that I can thank you properly in person.

  I wish you luck in your future endeavours.

  Sincerely,

  Mrs. Georgiana Ward

  From the first moment he had read the letter, he had understood that anyone would think it was a normal thank-you note. Only he saw the innuendo and read between the lines. She was referring to their lovemaking. How clever she was. She was also indicating she wanted to continue the relationship, no question about that. But did he?

  He glanced at the top of the page where her address was embossed in violet blue. He knew where she lived. She had already given him her address weeks before, making no secret of the fact that she was enamoured of him.

  Placing the letter in the envelope, he put it back in the drawer. He stood up, walked over to the window, looking out at the sea.

  That was one thing he was going to miss … the North Sea. How much would he miss her? This woman of the storm? He did not know, and he was not sure whether it was wise to see her again.

  When Aunt Marina had discussed the rumors about them, asked if they were involved, his upbringing had instantly kicked in. He had lied to protect her honor and her reputation, as any gentleman would. Certainly a gentleman did not kiss and tell.

  That code of honor had been instilled in him by his grandmother since he was a child … it was as if she had somehow injected it into his bones. Esther Falconer had made him who and what he was, and therefore he kne
w no other way to behave, no other way to live.

  Thirty-two

  When James came downstairs and went into the kitchen, he was surprised to see only his mother and Rossi standing there. They were obviously waiting for him, both dressed elegantly for his birthday party.

  He didn’t even bother to glance around. The house was empty. Silence reigned.

  “Where are Father and Eddie?” he asked, staring at his mother, his puzzlement apparent.

  With a bright smile, Maude said, “They left a short while ago. They had to…” She stopped, and then improvised, “Pick up something for your grandfather. We are to meet them there.”

  “And where is there?” James asked, a smile surfacing as he added, “Oh, I forgot! You’re not going to tell me … it’s a big secret.”

  “You’ll soon know,” Rossi replied, and picked up her purse.

  James gazed at his sixteen-year-old sister, who had grown in the months he had been living in Hull. She was taller, willowy, and prettier than ever with her shining golden hair and large, pale blue eyes. Her long pink silk gown, with a boat neckline, puffed sleeves, and frills at the hem suited her. “You look beautiful, Rossi,” he said.

  She merely smiled and edged toward the entrance hall. He turned to his mother. There was admiration in his voice when he told her, “And so do you, Mother. Blue has always been your best color, and your gown is very stylish.”

  Maude nodded, thinking her son seemed to fill the room with his presence. His shoulders were broader, and he looked a little older than eighteen. And, of course, his looks were more stunning than ever. Thank God he wasn’t left scarred after the beating he had suffered last year. She said, “Thank you, James, for your compliments, and now I think we must leave. There is a hansom cab waiting outside, sent by your grandmother.”

  If this surprised James, he did not allow it to show. He took his mother’s arm and shepherded her into the small hall.

 

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