"Right," Caius said absently. "It was good to see you," he said, slapping the man on the shoulder."
"About tonight," Rawley said as he walked away, but Caius ignored him, not understanding why he'd want his company on an evening in the gutter. It wasn't as though they’d spent any length of time together since Oxford.
"Some other time," Caius called and turned his attention to the search for Sommerset. The man was found in the smoking room, reading the paper. Caius took the empty chair opposite the small table and the man folded his paper down and then looked surprised.
"There is a face I haven't seen for some time. Hennington, or rather Lord Warwick now, I presume. I was sorry to hear about your uncle."
"Yes, we were all devastated. Now you have properties in the West Indies, do you not?"
"Yes, Jamaica."
"I am trying to track someone who went and I was wondering if you've heard of him."
"Oh?"
"William Castle Garrick."
The man leant his head back on the chair as if thinking. "I have heard the name. Can't place it, though. In all honesty I don't know the society there all that well. I only visit briefly and usually for a specific reason. Although I do know someone who might know more."
"Right. In that case, an introduction would be much appreciated."
"A Mrs. Moore. She has recently returned and is more familiar with the people coming and going. That is for Jamaica, mind you. There is more to the West Indies. Some real hideaway places for people who don't want to be found. It can be impossible to track someone who doesn't want to be found."
"I doubt that is the case here," Caius said. William Castle Garrick wasn't a solitary man. Society would draw him. The man was too fond of a party, and too much a cad to be worried about a bit of scandal. "No, I might have to call on this Mrs. Moore, if that is not too much of a bother."
"I will let her know to expect you. I'll have my man send over her address. Nice woman, but quite the gossip."
"I believe I have met the type before," Caius stated.
"How is your father?"
"Good. He is aging."
"Aren't we all," Sommerset said with a huff. "It would be good to see him once in a while."
"He seems to like it at Denham too much these days."
"Well, when you see him, tell him he's a little too young to embrace his dotage just yet."
A smile spread across Caius' lips, because his father wouldn't like the comment at all, which was the reason Sommerset was saying it. Getting too comfortable on one's estate simply wasn't allowed. If one had to suffer the tribulations of London, they all should.
"I will certainly pass that on," Caius said as he rose. "And I will call on Mrs. Moore. Thank you for the recommendation." Finding William was important for the trial. His deposition would cut any counter-arguments that Eliza could come with. Third-party observers to an accusation didn't have the weight of a confession from one of the parties to the actual adultery.
During their meeting, he’d gotten little understanding of the strategies Eliza sought to employ. Her face had reddened as Mr. Holsten had suggested she plead guilty. She certainly hadn't liked that. Her emotions were written on her face. Anger. Disgust. Was it not herself she should be angry and disgusted with, rather than the request that she own her actions?
Chapter 10:
IT WAS ALWAYS A BUSY day when an order needed to go out. Normally, it wasn't quite so satisfying to see the inventory decreasing, but it had a certain satisfaction right now, because it would do her good in the divorce. As was their plan, they would reduce the inventory as much as possible. Although she was still quite taken by the idea of not mentioning the business at all, even as she knew it was a childish impulse. Such actions never worked in the long run. She hadn't been a child for a long time, who would ignore their problems in the hope that they would simply disappear.
Someone clearing their throat drew her attention, and to her surprise, she turned to see Lord Fortescue, the owner of the building they were occupying. She’d only met the man once and their dealings had been contentious. After suffering consistent leaks in the roof, she’d refused to pay the rent until they were fixed. To her amazement, he’d fixed the roof.
"Lord Fortescue," she said, putting her inventory records to side and walked toward him. "To what do we owe the pleasure? I hope nothing is wrong," she said, but with each step, she started to fear that something was very wrong—that he’d heard of the impending divorce and was about to throw her out in disgust of his perception of her character.
"I was simply passing and thought I would come see how you are. I trust the repairs have been completed to your satisfaction."
"Yes, wholly. We have no leaks whatsoever, I am pleased to report." Looking back, she felt a little ashamed how forthright she’d been, demanding he fix the roof. "Our inventory has been quite safe. I cannot thank you enough."
"It is my pleasure." His eyes searched the large space as if he hadn't seen it before. There was no doubt he was a handsome man. Light brown, wavy hair. Imposing in his height. Green eyes, she saw when he turned to her, and she hoped he hadn't just caught her admiring him. "It is an interesting little business you have here. It is an unusual step for a woman such as yourself."
Her smile faltered slightly. From his perspective, it probably was an unusual step for a married woman of the social standing her husband had. "There was a great need for it, I found. One I couldn't look past. And I find I need something to occupy my thoughts."
"An admirable quality."
Biting her lips together, she considered what to do, because a woman such as herself, as he saw her, wasn't entirely accurate. "There is an issue I wish to discuss with you, and it is pertinent to this business."
"I see," he said.
Nerves clenched her stomach as he turned his attention to her. It had been a long time since a man had particularly paid attention to her, and she didn't quite know how to receive it. Perhaps it was simply that he was such a handsome man.
"As I am sure this business alludes, the standing between myself and my husband isn't entirely… optimal."
Looking around she tried to formulate her words, but he beat her to it. "Hence you need this business to support yourself?" There was concern in his voice. How could he be so thoughtful? Although that thoughtfulness might not continue once he found out her true situation.
"No, not entirely. The need I spoke about drove me to start this business. Saying that, I may need it to support me, presently. You see, my husband has returned from many years overseas and he wishes not to continue with this… less than optimal marriage. It is fair to say we cannot reconcile."
He listened without interrupting and remained silent.
Clearing her throat, she continued. "So there is likely to be a bit of unpleasantness, including…" Now she wished she hadn't embarked on this at all, but it had to be done. If he was going to throw her out, it would be good to know so ahead of time, so she could make alternative arrangements. "...including some substantial detriment to my character."
"I don't understand."
Perhaps she was being too delicate in her words. "He is divorcing me."
"Oh," he said, his eyes looking around the space again as if reassessing it.
"So in the not-too-distant future, you will be renting this space to a divorced woman."
"Will this not amount to a detriment to the business as well?"
It wasn't the question she'd expected. "Yes, it might do. We are actively promoting my business partner, Teresa Broadman, to take a more prominent role in the company."
Stepping around with his hands clasped behind his back, he seemed to consider his words. His evaluation of her was about to be announced, and she felt extraordinarily nervous. For some reason, she didn't wish him to have a bad opinion about her. "I see," he finally said. "I can see why this business has become so important for you."
"I would lie if I said that wasn't so."
"There will be co
nsiderable scandal with divorce."
"So I understand."
"You are aware that any contracts you've entered into are in the name of your husband, including the lease for this space. The decisions over them are likely to flow to him as part of a divorce."
For this she didn't have a ready response. Yes, she was aware, but she didn't entirely understand what the implications were. Her understanding of Caius had been that he wasn't a vindictive man, but how could she say that for sure? "Yes, some preparations are needed. It is highly unlikely he will have any interest in this business. I understand he has a substantial estate to concern himself with."
"It is a precarious position you are in, Mrs. Hennington."
"Yes, unfortunately. I am making whatever preparations I can to minimize any disruption."
"In fact, he could close this business down in a moment and there would be nothing you can do about it."
Was she being hopeful that Caius would wish to preserve her livelihood? He was so very angry with her and it had been apparent when they'd met in that barrister's office.
"I assume that adultery will be the charge he will use to affect this divorce."
"Yes," she said with a snort.
"It is an unfair situation when a man deserts a woman and then blames her for being disloyal."
"I assure you, while there was an accusation, I profess no guilt." Her words were strong, her anger still there for the barrister's insistence that she plead guilty.
"It is hard to have an upper hand in a situation like this. They will seek to prove your guilt. For them it is imperative to. From your perspective, it is hard to fight such a charge. Your husband must feel he has stable grounds for such a charge."
"Well, yes, he does, but that does not make it true."
"I'm not really sure it matters if it's true or not. It only matters what he can convince the court of. Do you think he will be able to?"
"I am sure he can, although he wishes for me to make the whole affair much easier for everyone by pleading guilty. Then they won't have to prove anything." Whereas now they had to get a deposition from the Caribbean, which would take time and effort, and it was their just desserts that they had to work hard to convince a court of this fallacy. But with William Castle Garrick's declarations of her guilt, there would be little to do.
And she really shouldn't be having this conversation with her landlord, but she wished to establish an understanding between them.
"Now that is something," he said.
"What is?"
"A man who wishes to go through the embarrassment and expense of seeking a divorce will find a way of attaining it."
"No doubt," she agreed. Courts cared little of aggrieved females. That had been shown as true more than a few times.
"You do have some bargaining power if they wish for an easy and expedient way through your profession of guilt."
"Are you saying I should bargain my guilt?"
"I would. If they are to prove it anyway, then bargain what you can for it. If there is something you wish to keep, now is the time to bargain."
"But I am not guilty."
"Does it matter?" he asked. "At times, it is more important to make the best of a situation—if one has something to lose. Pride is but pride."
For a moment, she was stumped. It was a very practical approach he proposed. He was right that fighting for her pride was a losing battle, and she should use the one bargaining tool to achieve what she needed to achieve. Her pride wasn't paramount.
"I suppose we will see who I end up holding a lease with—you or your husband?" With a raised eyebrow, he smiled. "Good day, Mrs. Hennington. I am pleased the repairs have been satisfactory."
With a nod, he started walking away.
"Lord Fortescue," she called to him, "would you keep the lease with a divorced woman?"
Stopping, he turned. "I think I know what I need to know of your character," he replied. For some reason, she blushed. "And you do pay your rent on time, when you feel I am providing a premise up to your standards. Good luck with your divorce. Through some things we can only fare as best as we can. I will not end the lease because you are divorced."
It was very understanding of him and her opinion of him rose enormously. And now she was left considering his advice. Bargain the business for her guilt. It would certainly assure the best possible outcome for her, although it would hurt her pride to admit guilt to something she was fundamentally not guilty of. Even in the years of her husband's absence, she had never strayed. It hadn’t been something she'd sought, but she also recognized it was pride that had driven her there too.
Chapter 11:
CAIUS COULDN'T DETERMINE whether he hated or loved being back in London. Being at Denham Hall and dealing with his family all day was too much to bear, so he preferred being in London, but at times, he wished he was anywhere but back in England. Equally, he hadn’t rushed to Bickerley, because when he took possession of it, it would no longer be his uncle's, but his. It had a certain finality he'd been putting off. It wasn't as if he was scared of it, because being a military man, he knew what it was to fear. No, it was more the avoidance of emotion and the realization that things truly had changed.
Perhaps there was only so much change one could handle at one time. Right now, the most pressing was the dissolution of his marriage. Something else necessary, but not something he was relishing.
In front of him sat the letter asking Mrs. Moore if he could come see her with regards to the whereabouts of William Castle Garrick. He was just about to have it mailed to her. It may well be that she knew exactly where he was and how he could be reached. William did tend to make himself known.
The divorce couldn't really proceed until this was done, so he had better get on with it. The letter fit into the envelope perfectly and he lit a candle to melt the ruby red wax to seal it. As of yet, he didn't have the stamp of Lord Warwick, so he used his old one that had traveled the whole of the world with him.
Mr. Jones appeared at the door, which he only did if something urgently needed his attention. "What is it?" Caius asked.
"You have a visitor?"
"Oh?" It was perhaps not surprising that old acquaintances called. News was getting around regarding his return.
"A Mrs. Henningon, it seems," Jones said.
The name had Caius blinking for a moment. Eliza was here? For what purpose? Mortifying scenes tumbled through his mind. Surely she wasn't going to plead for him not to go through with the divorce, or in any way suggest they should reconcile? That would be preposterous.
In all honesty, he just didn't know the lengths she would stoop to, or why she was there. Perhaps he should turn her away to spare them both a highly embarrassing encounter. But no, if she needed to understand something, it was better to reach that understanding sooner rather than later. "Well, I suppose you had better show her in."
The man's expressions were hard to make out, but Caius instinctively knew that Jones was curious. They didn't have the kind of relationship where they talked about personal matters. Their relationship was exclusively practical in nature, and they both preferred it that way. "In the parlor?"
"No, bring her here. And take this letter to the post as soon as you can."
In no way did he want this to come across as a social call. Whatever motive she had for being there, he wished to disabuse her of them if required.
A certain discomfort assaulted him as Jones left to retrieve her. Meeting at the legal office had provided little opportunity to talk, and he’d been happy that way. No, anything was on the cards.
And then she appeared, looking similar to how he remembered her from his barrister's office. During his time in the Orient, he’d forbidden himself to think about her at all, and that had served him rather well. There was no point dwelling on the past, or on what she’d done.
"Eliza," he said as she walked into the room, wearing a cream and pink dress. There had always been something of a dreamy quality to her. The dress seemed
to match her complexion, creamy with pink cheeks. It appeared she had walked here. Could she not afford a hack to convey her? Perhaps she was trying to make herself look pitiable. "What can I do for you?" In no way did he infuse any real curiosity or warmth into his tone. In truth, there was little he wished to do for her. He certainly wasn't going to insist this was a pleasure, because it really wasn't.
"How are you?"
"Is this a social call?" he asked, showing a degree of annoyance.
"No, I'm afraid not."
Taking his seat, he weaved his fingers together, a little angry with himself for having risen as she walked in. She didn't deserve the respect, but the politeness was ingrained. Without speaking, he waited for her to state her business.
"The other day, your advisor seemed to suggest that it would make everything easier if I plead guilty to whatever charges put against me during the divorce trial."
"By whatever charges, you mean adultery."
A tight smile formed on her lips, but she didn't answer.
"Yes, it could circumvent the need to establish the validity of the accusation."
"I understand that could be difficult and time-consuming as the accuser is on the other side of the world."
"It would help having his input, but it’s not necessary. There were sufficient witnesses who can testify as to what happened."
Where was she going with this? She was clearly here to discuss the divorce.
"It would be a great deal of trouble and would ensnare your family into this sordid matter."
"What is your point, Eliza?" he said, losing his patience.
"Only that I am agreeable to making this process easier for all involved by pleading guilty, but I will do so under one condition."
His eyebrows rose, not sure if he should laugh or be offended by this. Not for the first time, it occurred to him that he didn't really know her as he’d thought he had. Her persona, her façade, had all been a lie. "And what is the condition you stipulate."
"I have a small business. One that is of no consequence to you. I simply wish for you to leave it intact, and in my care from now and after the divorce."
The Nuisance Wife Page 5
