“No, my lord, I’m terribly sorry, my lord” had been all Prescott could think of saying in reply.
They set off to Langsdown Castle. Sebastian had not visited his father’s main country residence since he had left Cambridge. He was not looking forward to being sequestered at the castle with his father. Since his beloved brother’s death from scarlet fever, he had spent months brooding on how he had died. For Colonel Lord Peter Vernon to have survived the Peninsula Wars, then to return home only to succumb to illness and die within months seemed to Sebastian pathetically ironic. No healthier man had existed than the devil-may-care Peter. He had come through the whole campaign without a scratch. Not even dysentery had discommoded him, although more soldiers had died from disease than from their wounds.
Peter and Sebastian had been close. Two years separated them. Although they had parted after Peter joined the army straight from school. Their separation continued while Sebastian had studied at Cambridge, but they had good times together in the Peninsula over recent years. Peter had been slightly taller than Sebastian and heavier in build. Peter’s dark brown hair contrasted with his brother’s fair locks, but their handsome faces had been very similar. Peter’s jaw had been broader and his nose was slightly crooked following its breaking in a schoolyard fight, but they had been very alike, at least in appearance. Sebastian never resented his brother being the heir to the Dukedom, preferring not to personally inherit, especially if it meant his brother’s death. He had planned his life without expecting to become heir.
Sebastian accepted his father’s preference for his brother. Everyone loved the hard-riding, sportsman Peter, who was far more outgoing than the intellectual Sebastian. He had believed the Duke, his father, considered him superfluous. The spare only necessary if there was a disaster. The Duke had been relieved when the wars had ended and his eldest son, Peter, had gone home unscathed to England to take up his duties as Marquis of Farndon. Yet within months of reaching home, he had fallen ill and dwindled to an unexpected demise leaving both Sebastian and his father, the Duke of Langsdown bereft.
Sebastian had returned from the continent ten days earlier, finally having completed some important negotiations for the Foreign Office. He had been kept occupied travelling between the capitals of Europe for months, so he had not really had time to mourn properly. He had reported to London on his return, but his debriefing had taken several days. He had visited his tailor to order the necessary mourning attire, having worn only a black armband to denote his mourning while abroad. Since Peter’s death he had not felt like enjoying himself, life seemed stale and grey. He had not socialised apart from the visit to Brooks before leaving London. Lord Stephen’s diversion to the races and Cambridge, had briefly turned his thoughts in another direction.
As he drove his new curricle his thoughts drifted once more to the lady whose innocent responses to his kisses had so aroused him. He had intended to enquire for the name of a single young lady, travelling with a maid, before leaving Cambridge but he had neglected to do so. Her body’s lushness and the scent of lavender in the silk of her hair had been so sweet. The memories stung him because in the sober light of day, he felt he had behaved dishonourably. His enjoyment of her person had caused her distress. He hoped she had not been deeply disturbed by being so molested. Her reputation could have been destroyed. Society always blamed the woman. It would have made her a pariah if the story had got out.
Sebastian felt responsible for her welfare. He wished he could have checked if she had reached her Aunt safely. The blame for not accepting the truth of what she told him sooner, was all his. His apologies had been insufficient, considering the ordeal he had put her through. He deserved to suffer more than the slight bruises she had inflicted upon him in their struggle. His lip was still sore from her bite and his head from the wine drunk the night before. His guilt mixed with regret for not learning more about her, because she had fired his blood. He would have enjoyed getting to know her better. His loins agreed, much better. He doubted she would forgive his behaviour if they were to meet in the future. The young lady certainly had more spirit, than the vapid debutantes he was accustomed to meeting in town. If he must marry, then he wanted a wife who would not bore him to tears.
Prescott sat beside Sebastian in miserable silence, as his master apparently concentrated on driving. Determined the Marquis would have no future cause for complaint he hoped his normally even-tempered employer would eventually deign to forgive him.
Satisfied with his new curricle’s performance even though the horses were only hired, Sebastian drove contentedly. Ordering the vehicle in London eight months previously when he had expected to make a stay of some duration. He had no opportunity to drive it before being sent back to Europe, when Bonaparte was captured and sent to exile in Elba. Now the war was over, he had informed his Foreign Office superiors he was intending to settle down, however they had tried to refuse his resignation. Applying considerable pressure to try and persuade him to continue to work for them. His father wanted him to learn the business of running his estates and find a wife. His first order of business after seeing his father would be to acquire a decent team for his curricle.
The Foreign Office was extremely disappointed to lose his services and had offered a position as Ambassador to one of the smaller countries. They offered the tempting carrot that in a few years he would be able to choose where he was sent, but he had regretfully declined. His father, the Duke, who was now in his sixties had requested his years of wandering at the Foreign Office’s behest should be considered at an end. He was needed at home.
***
Alicia reached the home of her late father’s only sister, the widowed Lady Maud Prestyne, with Sally in a hired post-chaise early in the afternoon. The house was a picturesque red bricked half-timbered house of Jacobean origin, set in three acres of beautifully manicured gardens. It was situated along a sheltered road less than a mile from the centre of the market town of Aylesbury. Aunt Maud’s home was small in comparison to the Manor House where Alicia had spent most of her life. It boasted only six bedrooms beside the servants’ quarters and there Lady Maud lived most of the year in affluent retirement. The door was opened by Mrs Marshall, her housekeeper of twenty five years’ standing, who confirmed Lady Maud was in residence. Alicia paid off the postilions and entered the house to be enfolded to her Aunt’s perfumed bosom.
Explanations waited while Alicia was shown to an elegant bedroom, washed and changed out of her travelling dress. Descending the stairs to take tea and dainties with her aunt, Alicia left Sally to unpack her belongings.
Aunt Maud was a motherly woman in her early sixties. Her late husband had been a former East India merchant whose title had been of recent creation. Their marriage had unfortunately not been blessed. None of the three children Maud had gifted her older husband with, had survived through infancy. Maud’s white hair was neatly covered by a beribboned cap and her rosy cheeked face showed an interested amusement in her niece’s precipitate arrival. Maud was shocked and appalled to hear of her treatment at the hands of Lady Clarissa and Sir Cecil.
Lady Maud’s fluttering movements as she poured Alicia tea were not an indication of distress. Alicia knew Lady Maud’s plump person sheltered a strong independent will; but that lady had long affected the appearance of a frail refined lady with no thoughts of her own for public consumption. Lady Maud listened to the outpouring of Alicia’s story quietly, letting her ramble to an end. Alicia did not mention the beautiful rake in Cambridge in her narration, nor had she told Sally, who would have insisted they must wed.
“I always said Cecil Clarence was a fool. Marrying Clarissa Fenton is the culmination of his idiocy. The girl is a shrew. Well he has made his bed, let him lie in it.” Lady Maud declared then went on to ask.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t approach your guardians?”
“Guardians, I thought Sir Cecil was my guardian?”
“My brother arranged guardians for you in his will. Did y
our mother never tell you? If I remember correctly, Sir Anthony Wynstanley and Brigadier Raymond Clive were named as your trustees. You should have had a season when you were eighteen and an allowance arranged. Well that can all be sorted out when we have done something about your clothes. What you’re wearing must be at least four years out of date.”
“I fear there hasn’t been money for new dresses. I didn’t really need any as I haven’t grown any bigger. I don’t understand why I should have trustees, as Sir Cecil always told me there was no money for a dowry for me.”
“So your pea-goose mother, Annabel, didn’t even tell you the details of your father’s will? Well that beats everything. You are not an heiress, but you are no pauper who must marry any old suitor. There’s enough money for you to have at least a couple of seasons and then around three thousand a year, I believe.”
“So if I didn’t find a husband to my liking I could rent a house somewhere and live independently?”
“Don’t even think of it, even marriage to Lord Emmersley would be preferable to that! He won’t make a grand old age; he’s already beginning to suffer the effects of his over-imbibing, from what I hear. But we should be able to do much better than Lord Emmersley. Should you not find a decent husband, you are welcome to make a home with me for as long as you wish, but Aylesbury has little entertainment for a young girl. You should be having fun and meeting some nice young men.”
“I shall write to Sir Anthony and ask for a copy of the will and an account of your inheritance. His wife, Lady Sophia knows everyone and will enjoy bringing you out. I would have asked her mother, who was Dowager Countess of Chalcombe to take you in hand, but she is on honeymoon in France since her recent marriage to the Comte de Morlaix. Henrietta is an old friend of mine and so very elegant.”
Alicia’s protests she would be happy living in Aylesbury with her aunt and did not want to marry were overridden. Her ladyship promptly drafted a letter to Sir Anthony to be despatched the following day. Whilst they awaited Sir Anthony’s response Lady Maud kept Alicia busy with visits to dressmakers, milliners, haberdashers and shoemakers. On Sunday they visited the old church of St. Mary’s famed as the former burial place of St Osyth and viewed the tomb of Marie Josephine of Savoy, who was buried in the churchyard. The church built on a hill was surrounded by the main streets of the town. In the evenings she accompanied Lady Maud to dine at friends in Castle Street or Temple Square or helped her entertain a group of them at home.
A dance teacher was summoned as Alicia knew only the most basic country dance steps having never properly socialised. Lady Maud undertook to instruct Alicia in the correct etiquette for town life, but found her deportment in society everything it should be. Alicia was contented, although she missed the extensive library there had been at the Manor and riding her mare Siren.
Aunt Maud kept a small carriage and pair and a couple of job horses for her groom to ride if required to take a message, but had no horses suitable for a lady to ride, even one with her riding skills. Morehouse, Lady Maud’s groom was garrulous and avuncular, but Alicia missed Greenways’ quiet manner and loyal devotion to her wishes. Alicia knew Sir Cecil was now informed of her flight. He had not even bothered to write to Lady Maud, enquiring whether she had taken refuge with her. She should not have been upset by this final proof of his lack of caring for her welfare, but was surprised to find it hurt.
Alicia’s last actions before departing the Manor had included writing to a gentleman by the name of Amos Hendrix who had been formerly employed by a neighbouring estate as agent. He had returned to live in the village to tend his ailing father, who had now gone to his rest. Amos had been making a living clerking for a local lawyer whilst seeking another position as agent. Alicia suggested he sought an interview with Sir Cecil on the Friday afternoon as her replacement. She had also written to the proprietors of a select girl’s school in Bath to enquire whether they had places available for her half-sisters Grace and Phoebe Clarence and to request a prospectus.
Having brought all the estate books completely up to date, Alicia made one further deduction. She had paid herself the equivalent of three years’ wages at the rate paid to their former agent Tooms. She left within the ledgers, a note to Sir Cecil.
Sir
For the past three years I have acted as your agent without receiving my due pay. I have taken three years’ emolument at the rate paid to your former agent Tooms. I have asked an excellent man to contact you as my replacement. I doubt he will accept so low a wage and you may count yourself lucky, if he accepts employment with you. I acted as unpaid housekeeper for the Manor since my mother’s death, to provide for the comfort of myself and my two sisters. I have taught my sisters in place of their governess out of love for them. I expect no remuneration for saving you the wages of those two employees.
Following your marriage, you have sufficient funds and I see no reason why I should not accept the wages as agent due me, as a result of your negligence in not providing a replacement. I have asked for details from an outstanding school in Bath for Grace and Phoebe and trust they will arrive shortly. I have removed myself from under your roof as you desired and have no intention of returning.
I have been your obedient servant
Alicia Lambert
The reply to Lady Maud’s letter sent by Sir Anthony’s man of business was prompt in arriving and indicated her inheritance had been carefully husbanded. Lady Maud estimated there was plenty for two full seasons and at least three and a half thousand a year. The copy of the will indicated Colonel Charles Lambert had left her his books, some of which were very valuable, stating Lady Annabel would have little interest in them. As no-one other than Alicia had ever bought a book to add to the library at the Manor, the entire collection was owned by her. A draft for a thousand pounds towards her expenses was enclosed and Sir Anthony indicated a regular allowance would now be forthcoming.
The letter apologised for the omission and enclosed a charming letter from Lady Sophia, stating she looked forward to bringing Alicia to the notice of society. Inviting her to stay for the little season that year, Alicia should travel a month early so they could kit her out in the latest fashions. Now Alicia was no longer anxious about how she would manage to pay Sally, asked Lady Maud whether she could send for her books, Siren who had been a birthday present from her mother, when she was fourteen and Greenways who had been her late father’s former batman and man of all work.
Lady Maud agreed it would be appropriate for her to do so and one of the spare bedrooms would be set up as a library for her. She pointed out Alicia was entitled to her mother’s jewellery given to her by her late father, Sir Charles, and should request its return.
Alicia wrote a letter to Greenways asking if he would join her in Aylesbury and enclosing the copy of the will and a draft for expenses to travel there and pay for the package and transport of her library. She instructed him to demand the return of the jewellery bought for her mother by her father and to bring Siren with him. The first Sir Cecil knew of her instructions was seeing the library loaded up by a carrier under Greenways’ direction.
“Why are you packing up the books and taking them away? The library will be empty,” Sir Cecil protested, but the workers continued ignoring him. Greenways however moved over and took out the copy of Colonel Lambert’s will.
“The books are all Miss Lambert’s property! It says so just here in Colonel Lambert’s will. I will be leaving with Miss Lambert’s possessions. I will forfeit the month’s wages which are owed me, because I am not giving you any notice,” Greenways coldly stated.
Cecil sat down in shock.
“You can’t just leave like that, it isn’t done…” he protested.
“I was Colonel Lambert’s man and I stayed for Miss Alicia. He would have expected me to stay with her, and since you have driven her out, you cannot expect me to stay. Now we should deal with the matter of your late wife’s jewellery, it was given to her by Colonel Lambert, which also belongs to Miss Lamb
ert. Lady Maud has made a detailed list of the pieces which I am to collect and take with me. Please make sure it is packed up at once,” Greenways said sternly rather enjoying himself.
Sir Cecil went white and fortified himself with a glass of brandy before climbing the stairs to fetch the jewels. Lady Clarissa, who had thought the jewels hers, threw a dramatic fit of hysterics.
“You will not take my jewellery. You said they were mine, Cecil, why should that plain spinster have them. The little bitch… You must go and tell the man he cannot have them,” was some of what Greenways could hear being screeched upstairs as Cecil tried to take possession of the jewellery. He could not hear what Cecil said in reply, because his voice did not have the carrying volume of his newly wed wife. Cecil returned downstairs.
“She won’t let me take them Greenways, surely there is some mistake? You have got the books…”
“My instructions are that if the jewellery is not turned over to Miss Lambert, that I am to visit the nearest magistrate, which would be Sir Randolph Kent and lay the case before him. I was told to give him the statement Miss Alicia Lambert has written, which I have here,” Greenways waved another piece of paper at Sir Cecil. “The statement says that you Sir Clarence and Lady Clarence tried to force Miss Lambert into marriage with Lord Emmersley against her will. That you drove her from her home and will not hand over what is rightly hers. If one piece is missing, I shall be forced to lay charges with Sir Kent,” Greenways declared implacably.
The jewellery was fetched quickly and carefully matched to the list provided.
The final straw for Lady Clarissa was the sight of Greenways leading out the dapple grey mare and tethering her to the carrier’s cart along with Greenway’s own horse which was owned by him. Since Alicia’s departure Clarissa had ridden the pony herself, even though Greenways had repeatedly informed her, that Siren was Miss Lambert’s personal property. Greenways climbed up beside the carrier and they drove off. Sir Cecil was left to deal with the rampaging Lady Clarissa’s tantrums, only to receive the news that both his cook and the Manor’s man servant had found better positions and would be leaving at month’s end.
The Marquis' Mistake Page 3
