Dorothy Elbury

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Dorothy Elbury Page 15

by The Viscount's Secret


  Georgina nodded, still wondering exactly what it was that Sir Arthur had said to her mother to bring the old sparkle back into her eyes. Then, looking across at her sister, she saw that she too was looking rather pleased with the way that the unexpected visit had turned out. She knew that she would have to try to contain her curiosity about whatever help her uncle had chosen to offer her mother until after he had departed, although, from the little information she had been able to gather, it certainly sounded as if he intended to be quite generous.

  Sir Arthur remained at Westcotes for almost another hour, during which time he appeared to enjoy himself immensely, happily allowing Sophie to conduct him to her father’s study to show him the book collection, after which he instantly captured Katharine’s heart by engaging her in a warmly sympathetic conversation regarding her delayed nuptials. At one point, he even took Rupert to one side and had a brief but serious chat with him about his school progress or, more correctly, as he was dismayed to learn, the rather woeful lack of any! He immediately offered to provide a tutor to help bring the boy up to scratch before the start of the new school year, which certainly endeared him to Mrs Cunningham, if not to her son!

  When Becky brought the tea in, he helped himself to several of her delicious pastries and could not forbear from commenting upon the cosiness and total informality of the occasion, so far removed from the tediously dull gatherings his wife held.

  ‘Mrs Harper has her own key to the tea-box?’ he asked Mrs Cunningham curiously, having quickly become aware of the wide difference between the domestic arrangements of his sister-in-law’s household and those of Edwina’s more rigid policy. ‘I noticed that she did not ask you for it before bringing in the tea.’

  Mrs Cunningham looked puzzled. ‘I have never felt obliged to lock away any of the provisions from the servants,’ she replied slowly. ‘In fact, I am not altogether sure whether the tea-box has its own lock. Becky has always had my implicit trust and I am certain that she garners our resources even better than I do myself.’

  Her words made Sir Arthur more determined than ever to make every effort to put an end to the far from comfortable existence he had allowed himself to suffer in his own home and change it to one that more resembled the convivial atmosphere that now surrounded him. With that thought uppermost in his mind as he made ready to leave, he was full of grateful thanks for his hostess, both for her courtesy and her forbearance, and was quite overwhelmed when the entire family, having been utterly charmed by his gentle and friendly manner, chose to accompany their newly reunited relative to the front door, standing for several minutes to wave him on his way.

  By now, seething with impatience, Georgina waved her siblings away and, after ushering her startled mother back into the sitting room, she closed the door and implored, ‘Oh, Mama! Do tell me what Uncle Arthur said to you! I have been beside myself with curiosity all afternoon! Has he offered to help with Rupert’s school fees?’

  ‘Much more than that, my dear,’ said Mrs Cunningham, patting the seat beside her and motioning her daughter to sit down. ‘He has arranged the full reinstatement of Papa’s annuity—increased it, even—and wishes to pay the full cost of all of Rupert’s education! I have to tell you that I was most reluctant to accept any of his offers to begin with, but he practically begged me to allow him to indulge himself and, after he pointed out how much I would be depriving you all, if I continued to refuse, I could not deny him.’

  Raising her troubled eyes to Georgina, she beseeched her, ‘Have I done right, my dear? Your father was always so adamant in his refusal to see his brother. Perhaps I should have been firmer?’

  ‘No, Mama, you were perfectly correct to accept his help,’ replied Georgina. ‘It is clear that Papa was, towards the end, too much affected by Harry’s death to realise how badly he had managed his affairs. You cannot suppose that he would be glad to have us all reduced to poverty! Besides which, his quarrel was with Aunt Edwina and I could not help noticing that Uncle Arthur did not mention her once during his entire visit.’

  Mrs Cunningham nodded. ‘I, too, was aware that he refrained from mentioning her in our conversation but, in view of your father’s attitude towards her, I am afraid that I elected not to ask. However, if Sir Arthur should choose to bring her to visit us, I will have to do my best to receive her, of course, but it will be very difficult.’

  Georgina was silent. She was more inclined to suppose that the sour-faced Edwina Cunningham was most unlikely to accompany her husband on any of his future visits to his late brother’s family, bearing in mind her ladyship’s obvious disinclination even to venture down the stairs to greet her niece in her own home!

  ‘There is something else, Georgina,’ her mother went on, her expression still troubled. ‘Sir Arthur has suggested that we may no longer wish to sell Papa’s book collection. He was quite taken aback when I informed him of the amount that Mr Pickens had managed to secure for them, but then told me that I was not obliged to accept the offer if I preferred to keep the books and, now, I am not sure what we should do about it.’

  ‘Well, apart from one or two picture books that Sophie cherishes, none of us has the slightest interest in them,’ said Georgina reasonably. ‘In addition, having complete control of such a huge amount of money of your own would afford you a good deal of independence, which cannot be a bad thing.’

  Her mother’s face immediately cleared. ‘That is very true, Georgina,’ she said, rising to her feet. ‘And, in view of his already generous endowments, I would definitely prefer not to have to apply to your uncle every time we were faced with some unexpected expense! I shall accept Mr Templeton’s offer, but I shall ask Mr Pickens to inform him that Sophie’s favourite picture book is not to be regarded as part of the sale. She will be so relieved.’

  Then, casting her eye at the clock, she made for the door, adding, ‘Goodness, how the afternoon has flown! Becky will have the dinner on the table at any minute and I must go down and pass on the good news to them both.’

  Georgina smiled. ‘I got the impression that she had already guessed the meat of it! She certainly seemed very gleeful when she brought your message up to me!’

  ‘Not a lot escapes her!’ laughed her mother, as they walked out into the hall. ‘But they will no doubt be glad to hear that their position in the household is totally secure!’

  They were just about to go their separate ways when there came a ring at the doorbell.

  ‘Now who on earth can that be?’ asked Georgina uneasily, her heart jumping at the sound. ‘I cannot recall ever having had so many visitors in one day!’

  Upon opening the door, however, she found herself confronted, not only with the Reverend John Mansell’s beaming countenance but also, to her astonishment, an enormous bunch of flowers, which he was holding in his arms.

  Hardly waiting for an invitation, he advanced briskly into the hall and thrust the bouquet into Mrs Cunningham’s hands. ‘These are for you, dear lady,’ he announced grandly. ‘With my deepest gratitude.’

  For a moment, Mrs Cunningham was completely bewildered then, all of a sudden, realisation dawned on her. ‘The Cornwells have agreed to allow you to marry Nell!’ she exclaimed joyfully. ‘That is really good news. I am so pleased for you both!’

  ‘You will forgive my calling on you at this late hour,’ said Mansell. ‘But I could not bring myself to wait until morning to tell you that both Sir Richard and Lady Cornwell are now happy for the marriage to go ahead. They have come to realise how unhappy Nell has been these last weeks and have indicated that they no longer wish to stand in our way. I shall apply to the bishop for a special licence and hope to be married at the end of the month!’

  ‘Goodness, John! So soon?’ Mrs Cunningham was somewhat taken aback at the speed of events. ‘But, surely Nell’s parents will need far more than two weeks to arrange their daughter’s wedding?’

  Mansell shook his head. ‘No, they have agreed to our request that the wedding should be a small and private affair.
’ His eyes twinkled. ‘Nell and I are inclined to think that they were rather relieved when we suggested it. I understand that they are having to retrench after their rather expensive sojourn in the capital!’

  ‘Well, you may be sure that we will help in any way we can,’ said Mrs Cunningham. ‘And now, of course, you must join us for dinner. I believe Mrs Harper is about to bring up the dishes.’

  ‘Thank you, but I must refuse your kind offer, ma’am,’ Mansell replied, bowing over her hand. ‘And I beg you to excuse my unseemly haste. I am to dine at the Cornwells and it would not do to keep them waiting, today of all days!’

  ‘Certainly not,’ laughed Mrs Cunningham. ‘And, thank you so much for these lovely flowers. I must go and find a suitable vase before they perish. I am sure that Georgina will be glad to accompany you as far as the gate, for I can see that she is just aching to ask you several questions.’

  Mansell smiled and replied that he would be happy to answer any question that Miss Cunningham would care to put to him and at once proceeded to shepherd Georgina out of the house and down the drive.

  Mrs Cunningham had been correct in her assumption that her daughter was keen to speak to the vicar, but the question to which Georgina most needed the answer had nothing to do with his forthcoming marriage plans.

  ‘I am so glad that everything has turned out to your satisfaction, Reverend,’ she said hesitantly. ‘And it is perfectly true that I am dying to hear Nell’s version of events…’

  ‘But?’ he prompted her. ‘There is something far more important on your mind, isn’t there, Miss Cunningham? Is there some way in which I can assist you? You only have to ask, you know. You have done so much for me in the past.’

  ‘You will think it terribly impertinent of me—’ she began, then stopped and coloured to the roots of her hair as she tried to find the right words.

  ‘I promise you that I will think no such thing,’ he said gently. ‘Is your question anything to do with Mr Latimer?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ she answered in a rush. ‘I feel that something you may have said to him yesterday has caused him to take me in dislike and I cannot imagine what it could be!’

  ‘I do not recall having said anything to your detriment,’ Mansell replied, frowning. ‘And nor would I, indeed! Although it is true that I did hint that, perhaps, his circumstances might preclude him from approaching you—having suffered a rather disagreeable setback myself for very similar reasons, you understand?’

  Georgina stood stock-still. ‘He was concerned about his financial situation?’

  ‘I believe so.’ Mansell nodded. ‘I gathered that it had not occurred to him that he had so little to offer.’

  Oh, the foolish, foolish man! thought Georgina, her lips suddenly curving in a wide smile. Just wait until I see him!

  They had reached the gate and, as the vicar bowed and turned to go, she put out her hand to stay him. ‘I am so happy that your prayers have been answered, dear Reverend Mansell,’ she said earnestly. ‘And now, I beg of you! Do say a prayer for me, for it appears that I am about to be in great need of heavenly assistance.’

  Concerned, he looked down into her anxious eyes. ‘I will do as you ask, of course,’ he said slowly. ‘But you, for your part, must put your trust in the Lord. If you and Latimer are meant to be together, believe me, the solution will present itself. Have faith, Miss Cunningham, have faith.’ And, with that, he turned on his heel and strode off to the village.

  With a heavy heart, Georgina watched him go. The solution is already at hand, she thought glumly and, if a lack of resources was the only thing that was holding him back, the only problem that now remained was whether Latimer could be persuaded to swallow his pride and accept her on her terms!

  Chapter Eleven

  Edwina Cunningham slipped inside her husband’s study and quietly closed the door behind her. She had sent Fisher off to the kitchen on some wild goose chase in order that she could gain access to Sir Arthur’s private domain out of sight of the butler’s prying eyes. Not that her husband had anything that was in the least degree private from her, she thought to herself, with a self-satisfied smirk, for she had had long been fully cognisant of the state of his financial affairs, having taken the precaution of providing herself with copies of all of his keys many years ago.

  After giving the sheaf of papers on the top of his desk her usual perfunctory once-over, she turned her attention to the locked drawers, casting her eyes hastily through the substance of each folder before returning it to its place with the precise exactitude that had preserved her well-kept secret for so long.

  At last, she found the document for which she was searching and, with a quick glance at the clock on the wall, she drew up Sir Arthur’s large, leather-bound chair and proceeded to scrutinise its contents.

  So, the ridiculous old fool had, indeed, altered his will! She had suspected as much when she had witnessed Marcus Pickens’s unexpected arrival this morning. She clenched her fists, causing her sharp nails to bite into her palms but, staring down in dismay at the newly signed testament, she experienced no pain.

  With deliberate care, she replaced the document into its file and returned it to its appointed place. Then, for several minutes, she remained motionless in her seat, her pale eyes glittering with rancour and her mind seething with the various ways and means in which she might extract her revenge, all of which she rejected as being too impractical.

  Eventually she rose and, walking over to the door, opened it the merest crack and was peering through the chink, intent upon establishing whether Fisher had returned to his station. The sudden insistent sound of the doorbell’s jangle came as something of a shock to her but, on hearing the butler in the act of opening the front door, she quickly recovered her senses and made use of the unexpected opportunity to slip, undetected, out of the study and into the small salon opposite.

  ‘I believe madam is in the morning-room,’ came the elderly butler’s bored monotone. ‘If you would be so kind as to take a seat, I shall inform her ladyship of your presence.’

  ‘Don’t trouble yourself, old man! I shall announce myself, as usual!’

  Edwina Cunningham stiffened and the beginnings of a smile began to form upon her thin lips, as the sound of her cousin Gerald Carstairs’s unmistakable drawl reached her ears. Quickly opening the salon door and re-entering the hall, she perceived that Carstairs was already halfway up the stairs to the morning-room, with Fisher in disapproving pursuit.

  ‘I am here, Gerald!’ she called, her voice urgent. ‘Do come down. I have need of your services!’

  Already on the half-landing, the man paused and looked down, then, ignoring Fisher’s affronted glare, he turned and sauntered back down the stairs to join Lady Cunningham in the hall below. Clutching his sleeve, she drew him into the salon and, motioning him to a seat, swiftly closed the door behind her.

  ‘I say! Steady on, Coz!’ protested Carstairs, carefully examining his cuff. ‘That’s m’best coat you’re pulling about, don’t ye know!’

  ‘Oh, never mind that,’ she retorted, flapping her hand to silence him. ‘I have far more important matters to worry about than your precious jacket! Now, sit down and hear me out!’

  And, in an urgent undertone, she proceeded to relate to him the disastrous events that had taken place in the short time since his previous visit, breathlessly concluding her tale with her recent discovery of Sir Arthur’s heartless perfidy!

  The Honourable Gerald Carstairs was the only son of Edwina’s father’s younger sister Charlotte, who had married a minor baron, now deceased. It had not taken his son long to fritter away the little that remained of his late father’s capital and now, at thirty-eight years of age, he was pleased to boast that he lived by his wits. In truth, however, he was merely an inveterate gambler who, in the way of most gamblers, sometimes succeeded but more often did not. As Sir Arthur had told Georgina, Carstairs was a man best avoided. In fact, a good many fathers had paid the scoundrel quite large sums of money for
his promise to stay away from their daughters. Not that he could be considered to be a man of his word. Indeed, amongst certain sections of Society, following the ruination and subsequent suicide of one young lady from a particularly good family, he was completely persona non grata. Nowadays, even his own coterie of ne’er-do-wells and profligates tolerated him only when he was in funds. However, after he had unexpectedly managed to procure his cousin the coveted invitation that had eventually led to Clarissa’s exalted marriage, Edwina had regarded herself forever in his debt, of which happy situation he had done his utmost to take full advantage.

  As he listened to Lady Cunningham’s tale of woe he was visibly shocked. ‘You mean to say that he’s gone and made over his fortune to these Johnny-come-latelies?’ he asked, staring at his cousin in astonishment. ‘Until he told me who the chit was, I could have sworn that she was nothing more than a serving-maid. Also, if I remember correctly, you assured me on Saturday that it would all blow over and that you’d have him back in harness before he could sneeze!’

  ‘Well, and so I thought!’ she returned defiantly. ‘But he has told that old fool Fisher that the servants are to take their instructions from him alone and not from Mrs Stacpole! In addition, he has taken away her keys and insists that, in future, the household accounts are to be handed to him personally, including all the bills!’

  ‘Lord! That is going to put the cat among the pigeons!’ groaned Carstairs peevishly. ‘What about me? I still haven’t paid off even half of my tailor’s bill and I owe I don’t know how much to the bookmakers!’

  Lady Cunningham’s pale eyes narrowed and, for a few moments, she regarded her cousin in suspicious silence. Then, ‘Didn’t I give you a huge amount only a week ago, supposedly to pay off your tailor?’ she demanded truculently. ‘Seems to me that I’ve been more than generous over the past few months.’

 

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