by Tia Siren
''And do you know what the most curious fact is in this?'' Victoria said as she placed the letter in her lap and looked at it. ''This is my father's handwriting.''
''But you father isn't called Landsborough. He was called Lambert,'' Lizzie was eager to point out.
Victoria was beside herself with curiosity. Why had her father written a letter to a Duke and why had he done it as Captain Landsborough? ''I'm stunned Lizzie. I don't know what to do.''
In their relationship Lizzie was often the one who just listened to Victoria's dreams and ideas. She was intelligent but lacked Victoria's optimism. As far as she was concerned, her life was the mill, and hopefully one day, a nice husband who didn't beat her. If she were lucky, she would be blessed with children and live to see them trudging up the hill to the mill, as she had done. Victoria was not resigned to her fate, and often dreamed about a handsome man who would come and sweep her away to a far off land where it was warm, and there were fresh fruits. On occasions, Lizzie would tell her she was a dreamer and that she should recognize reality. But Victoria didn't want to, and Lizzie's words would cast her into despair for days until the handsome man reappeared.
''I know what you should do,'' Lizzie said. Victoria looked at her, shocked. Lizzie wasn't often inspired, but she'd had a moment of rare clarity. ''You should go to that firm of solicitors, what was their name?'' she picked the letter up. ''Yes here look. You should go to, Jones, Acheson, and Hopkins and ask them about the Landsborough Estate and Captain Landsborough.''
*****
Mr. Anthony Acheson looked down his nose at the young lady sitting in front of him in the leather button backed armchair. Cheaply clothed in a green dress with puff sleeves and a square decollete, she was no better dressed than other working women, but much more beautiful.
Victoria had told Lizzie to tell Mary that it was her time of the month and that she was incapacitated. It was the only affliction Mary had any sympathy for. Victoria had wrapped herself in a large headscarf so as not to be recognized and taken the coach to Haslemere via York. The village postmaster had informed her that Haslemere was fifty miles from Ashworth and that it would take five hours to get there, changing coaches in York. She'd arrived at her destination just as the clerk was locking the door for the night. A young man himself, he'd only opened up because she was beautiful. When an equally young Mr. Acheson came to see who he was talking to, he eagerly took over.
''You have an impressive bundle of documents with you Miss Lambert, and I must say it is a very intriguing tale. I'm afraid I shall have to ask Mr. Jones, my partner, to join us; He's a lot older, and I'm sure he can shed some light on the matter.'' He got up and went out of the room. Victoria looked around and started to count the books in the glass bookcase behind his mahogany desk. When she got to 43, she heard someone shouting.
''Doesn't she know what time it is, my supper will be ruined?'' Mr. Acheson reappeared with an elderly gentleman in a pair of red breeches. ''Well, young lady,'' he shouted, ''what is it?''
Victoria decided he was deaf, not angry. ''I've come about the Landsborough Estate. My late father left some documents pertaining to the estate, and I would like to know what his connection to it was.''
Mr. Jones looked sternly at Acheson, who stood up and offered him his seat. ''The Landsborough Estate. Yes, I remember, it was quite something.'' He stared out of the window as if the view of the Inn opposite would assist his memory. ''Captain Landsborough was a gambler.'' Before he could continue Victoria gasped. In the letter, it had mentioned gambling. ''If I may continue,'' he wasn't used to being interrupted, ''Captain Landsborough was a gambler, and one evening he was playing cards with the Duke of Haslemere and a couple of others. The old Duke was well known for his prowess at three card brag, a game that requires a considerable amount of skill in the art of bluffing.'' Victoria was interested in the game, just the outcome. ''Apparently Captain Landsborough got into difficulties early on in the evening and kept upping the stakes in order to recoup his losses, in my opinion, a very foolish strategy.''
''What was the outcome of the evening, Mr. Jones?'' Victoria asked, trying to avoid a lengthy account of the game plan Mr. Jones would have used had he been at the table.
''Lost the lot, put up his house and his land in the last hand and lost it to the Duke.''
''But, surely,'' she gasped, ''surely the Duke could see that Captain Landsborough had an affliction. Why did he take the estate and not tell Captain Landsborough not to be so foolish.''
Mr. Jones looked across at the Inn again. It was time for his daily ration of rum, and he was eager to cross the road. ''The old Duke was a mean man, quite different to his wife. Why she married him, nobody knows.'' His voice got louder, to the point where Acheson went and stood next to the door. ''No, the Duke took the estate and Landsborough disappeared with his wife, who I seem to remember at the time was expecting a baby.'' He stood up and looked at Victoria. His demeanor softened when he noticed how young she was. ''We did the transfer, and if Mr. Acheson would care to look, the file will be in the archive room under L for Landsborough. I wish you a pleasant evening.'' He walked past Acheson and tutted.
When Acheson had retrieved the file, he put it on his desk and opened the lid slowly as if he was afraid the contents would jump out and frighten him. He pulled out a large document with a red seal on it.
''This is the contract of sale. Here are the signatures of the Duke and Mr. Landsborough.'' He turned the paper to Victoria, who stood up and looked at the signatures.
''It's the same signature as that on the unsent letter I found in my father's room,'' she said. She sat down with a thud.
''It says here that Captain Landsborough was in the Irish Guards. Did you find any evidence of that among your father's belongings?'' Victoria reached into her travel case and pulled out the medals. Engraved around the edge of each were the words, Irish Guards.''
*****
Roberts was a tall man who over the years had gained a significant stoop. As a young footman, he'd been expected to carry heavy coal scuttles to the fireplaces in the house. The old Duke had enjoyed having guests to stay, and most weekends the house had been full, and each bedroom had had a fire than needed providing for.
''My Lord, there is a young lady to see you, she says her name is Lambert.'' Edward put down his newspaper and peered at Roberts, who seemed to be getting closer to the ground by the day.
''What does she want, I'm not expecting anybody?''
''She won't tell me, my Lord.''
''Really, what time is it?''
''Gone eight, my Lord.''
Victoria had spent a long time discussing the estate, and its transfer with Mr. Acheson. Kind Mr. Acheson had offered her a lift in his carriage and she'd gratefully accepted. His motives were not entirely honorable and when she'd stepped down from the carriage he'd put his hand on an inappropriate place, in the name of assisting her. Victoria had something of her mother's temper, and it soon became clear to him that it hadn't been a good idea.
''Then, show her in,'' Edward said.
Victoria hadn't managed to see much of the house from the outside; it was quite dark. If the interior were anything to go by, it would have been a magnificent sight. Her cottage could have fitted into a third of the entrance hall. Roberts took her bonnet and coat and hung them on the coat rack behind the potted palm. It wasn't a palm plant, more a palm tree that reached up the side of the grand staircase to the first floor. The drawing room was to the left through an impressive mahogany double door. She followed Roberts.
''Miss Lambert, my Lord.'' Roberts left the room and closed the door.
The Duke stood up and walked towards Victoria, his black hair bouncing. ''I'm Edward, Duke of Haslemere. How may I be of assistance?''
Victoria was instantly taken by his looks. His father may have taken the family estate in a beastly way, but his son was a fresh looking young man with a continental look to him.
''My Lord, please forgive me for intruding into your evening. I come on a matter o
f great importance to myself, and I fear I will be obliged to throw myself upon your kind nature.''
Edward took pity on her. She appeared cold, and she looked tired. ''Please, come and sit by the fire. I will have Roberts bring us some tea.'' She sat down gratefully and held her hands out towards the warmth. ''Tell me what I can do for you.''
''It is a very long and confusing story, my Lord. But I shall try to make it as clear as possible.'' She sat upright and prepared herself for the undertaking. ''My father died recently, and when I was looking through his belongings, I found some documents regarding an estate called Landsborough.'' Edward was listening attentively but was slightly distracted by the grace with which she spoke; It was not in keeping with the way she was clothed. Her dress was not of the most expensive cloth and at some point it had been altered. ''It seems from the documents and the information I was able to gather at Jones, Acheson, and Hopkins, firm of solicitors in Haslemere, that my father's name was Landsborough and that he lost the estate in a card game. The man he lost to was your late father.''
So that's it. That is what the letter was about. He'd won the estate in a card game, felt guilty about it and decided to give it back, except, he never sent the letter. ''As you may or may not know,'' he paused when Roberts arrived with the tea. He smiled at Victoria as he poured her drink into a cup and saucer of the finest quality. ''Sorry, as you may know, my father also passed away recently. I have taken over the running of the estates we own, and I too found out that the estate was won by my father in a card game. Quite extraordinary.'' He shook his head and smiled. ''You introduced yourself as Lambert.''
''Yes, I have always thought our family name to be Lambert, but it now appears that it is Landsborough, and we were wealthy landowners until my father's foolish behavior. Mr. Jones, the eldest of the lawyers in town, told me the story. My poor father had a terrible gambling affliction.''
''Where do you live now?''
''In a village, fifty miles away called Ashworthy. I work in the mill there.''
''Indeed,'' he said. ''I don't know anyone who works in a mill. Alright, we seem to have established that you father lost it, and my father won it, what do you want?''
''My Lord, I understand that my father was foolish. Indeed, it was not only foolish but selfish. My poor mother spent the rest of her life in poverty, far from the life she should have enjoyed.'' She looked at the fire as it spat a piece of coal onto the hearth. ''However, I must add that your father hardly acted in a gentlemanly fashion. He should have realized that my father was not of sound mind and refused to accept the bet.” Victoria looked the Duke straight in the eye. “I would like you to return the estate to me.''
He nodded. He'd expected it, as soon as he had become aware who she was. She was a beautiful woman, and he had no desire to hurt her in any way, but requiring him to give the estate back, after so many years, was a tall order. ''I understand your position. I hope you will allow me time to consider how best to resolve the situation.''
''Of course, my Lord.''
''Miss Lambert, it is late, and I suggest you stay here. I will ask one of our maids to look after you.''
''That is very kind of you. I don't think there is any transport back to my village at this time of the evening, and I don't want to stay at an inn alone.''
Edward asked Rosie, a ladies maid who had no lady to look after, to make up a fire and warm the bedsheets in the green room. They continued to drink tea and talk until Victoria was no longer able to keep her eyes open. When she entered her bedroom, she was astounded at the luxury. A giant four poster bed, a large marble fireplace and the very best Turkish rugs on a polished wooden floor. Rosie was waiting for her with a hot bath and clean nightdress. When she helped Victoria undress, she could see Victoria's was used to manual work. It was slender and the muscles well formed. The bath was warm and as the fire crackled Victoria didn't want to get out. When eventually she did, she fell asleep instantly and slept for ten hours.
The next morning Rosie knocked on the door at ten. Victoria usually rose at five when she had to go to the mill. Rosie helped her to dress, and showed her to the breakfast room. Edward was waiting. Victoria liked Rosie. She was in her late twenties and homely.
''Good morning, Miss Lambert. How did you sleep?''
''Very well indeed, much better than I am used to.''
''I have decided to show you around the Landsborough Estate today if of course you are not in a hurry to return to your home.'' Victoria had no desire to return at all, but she knew she must. One more day wouldn't hurt, though. ''Rosie will act as chaperone if you are agreeable.''
Edward looked dashing as he showed Victoria to their pony and trap. The cold weather had relented, and it was a warm April day. He was wearing a blue tailcoat with a yellow waistcoat and blue trousers. Victoria hadn't thought to bring another dress, but she had packed fresh undergarments.
Edward clicked and the black pony set of at a speed that suggested it would much rather spend the morning in a lush field that pull a trap around. The seat wasn't very wide, and Victoria found her leg rubbing against Edward's. She liked it. Rosie sat behind them facing backward and tried her best not to listen to their conversation.
''Tell me about your life, Miss Lambert. What is it like to work in a mill?'' Edward was genuinely interested. All his tenants were employed on the land, and he'd never met anyone working in industry.
''It is hard, my Lord. Fifteen hour days for little pay. My colleagues are pleasant enough, and there is a camaraderie among us, but it is backbreaking work. On Sundays, I go to church, and the rest of the time I sleep and work.''
''You don't make it sound very attractive at all. I must, one day, go and see these things for myself. I'm stuck here in the countryside all the time.''
''You are lucky, my Lord. If I were you, I would be happy to be so.'' What was he going to do with the estate? If he refused to give it back to her, she had no choice but to accept his decision. She was totally at the mercy of his sense of right and wrong.
''Perhaps you are right. I love rural life.'' As he spoke the trap fell into a deep run in the road, and they lurched to the right. Victoria gasped and held onto to him until the pony managed to pull them upright again.
''Excuse me, my Lord,'' she pulled her arm from his.
He looked around and saw Rosie was looking in the other direction. ''No, please leave it there. I hope you don't think me forward when I tell you it is a nice feeling.''
''No, my Lord, I do not.''
The view from the lane they were driving down was magnificent. Down the hill, in front of them, there were green fields full of cows grazing. Beyond the fields, Victoria could see a church spire surrounded by cottages. When they reached a gate, Rosie jumped down and opened it.
''We're entering the Landsborough Estate now,'' Edward said. The village below us is called Wendsbury. Most of the houses belong to the estate. There are five farms in all and most of the villagers work on the farms.''
Victoria noticed how enthusiastically he spoke about the place. She'd heard his father had been a difficult landlord, but she was sure Edward was a kinder man, by far.
''It is much larger than I thought.'' Why had her father gambled so much away? Had he been so unwell that he had lost all clarity of thought, and what about poor mother? For her, it must have been awful.
''I will show you the village and then take you to meet Mr. Jepson, at Manor Farm.'' The fact he was showing her all this, and introducing her to a tenant farmer was a good sign, and Victoria was suddenly a thousand miles away from her life in Ashworhy.
Edward noticed how her expression had changed. She'd lost the pained look of someone downtrodden, and gained a smile that made his heart race. He had never been with a woman before, and he was surprised when he began to have thoughts that made him afraid he would embarrass himself when he had to get down from the trap.
''It's beautiful,'' she exclaimed as they drove through the village. It was a linear village, with a strip of green
running between the road and the houses which lined it. The church was at the end of the village, and there was a quaint thatched inn called the Lamb and Flag opposite.
''Yes, it is very beautiful. In all, there are sixty-three tenants here.'' Victoria had no idea how much a tenant was expected to pay in rent, but sixty-three times what she paid to Mr. Pickford was a lot of money each week.
They left the village and took a left turn at a fork in the road. Signposted Manor Farm. This was an arable farm, and there were two teams of shire horses plowing the land to the right of the narrow road. At the end, they reached a farmyard. It was probably the tidiest farmyard in the land. Mr. Jepson couldn't stand a mess.
Edward stopped and got down. He walked around the other side and helped Victoria to the ground. As he did so, he caught her scent. It made him want her more.
''Mr. Jespon, allow me to introduce Miss Lambert,'' Edward said proudly.
Mr. Jepson was dressed in a check shirt and a pair of very baggy trousers, held up with a pair of yellow braces. On his feet wellingtons. ''You mean Landsborough, my Lord, not Lambert.''
''No, Lambert,'' Edward reiterated.
''Well if ever anybody had a face like Mrs. Landsborough it is the young lady standing here.'' He pointed to Victoria, who smiled.
''It's a long story, I'll tell you about it sometime. Will you show us around the farm, please?'' Jepson nodded and motioned them to follow him.
*****
After their excursion, Victoria retired to her room to rest. Far from resting, her mind was churning. What she'd seen had been idyllic, and beyond anything she had seen before. She knew if the Duke would see his way to giving her the estate back, she would remain there for the rest of her days, quite happily.
Her thoughts turned to the Duke. He was handsome, and she was taken with him. It could be a perfect alliance, she thought.
At six, Rosie knocked on the door. She'd come to dress Victoria for dinner.
