by Darcy Burke
Richard didn’t have the heart to tell her about the source of the cotton they had yet to attempt selling. Cotton could be stored for long periods without spoiling. Selling their tobacco would give them a quick profit to get off the ground—if they could find a buyer.
“There is a certain irony in a young woman with weak lungs going about town looking to sell tobacco,” Mrs. Kent observed grumpily. “When she ought to be visiting elegant castles. Or dancing.”
“Have you been to a London ball, Mrs. Kent?” Richard asked.
“You know full well I have not, Mr. Northcote.” Ever since Lizzie’s appearance on the New Hope she had reverted to omitting his title. “Our first excursion isn’t until next week.”
“Prepare to be shocked by the ratio of dancing to gossip,” Richard offered. “I am of half a mind to send you to Windsor tomorrow and let me and Miriam attend to this business of finding buyers ourselves.”
“I am of half a mind to permit it,” Mrs. Kent replied sharply.
“Do it,” Miriam insisted. “Mrs. Kent. You deserve a holiday. I promised you castles, and castles you shall have.”
The woman hesitated. “Leaving you to approach coffee housing cigar divans is possibly the stupidest thing I could do. What if you have an attack?”
“I know how to treat her,” Richard said. “Miriam will be safe with me.”
“How do I know this isn’t part of your plot to get her money for Lizzie?” Mrs. Kent demanded.
Guilt punched Richard in the gut. “You’ll have to trust me,” he said softly. “Technically, I could take Miriam’s money any time. I haven’t done that. I have taken great pains to protect her interests.”
“He’s right, Mrs. Kent,” Miriam said gently. “I trust Richard enough to spend a day chasing sales at tobacconists and cigar divans. Go and see your castle.”
Mrs. Kent eyed them narrowly. “If anything happens to her…”
“It won’t,” Miriam replied. She tucked her hand into his elbow. “Richard will keep me safe.”
He hoped she was right.
Chapter 26
“There’s something I wish to see when we reach Briarcliff,” Edward said as they approached the estate which Richard had loved so much before it was lost to him.
“Oh?”
“Father left you a letter. I haven’t read it, of course.”
“I would have, in your position.” Richard chuckled.
“No, Richard, I believe you have more honor than that,” Edward said quietly.
“You’re the only one,” Richard muttered. His mood turned sour in an instant.
Edward shifted in his seat to examine him. Richard squirmed and gazed out of the coach window, pretending he was unaffected by his brother’s scrutiny.
“Miriam wouldn’t say so. Nor would her companion, Mrs. Kent,” Edward observed. “I know you dislike her, but you should know that Harper was the one who convinced me to ask you to return to England. And since you’ve been back, you have proven yourself to be a man of honor, time and again.”
Richard swallowed. His eyes felt hot and itchy, and a vise tightened around his temples. “Nonsense,” he scoffed. “I was a selfish, drunken prat then. I am a selfish, less-drunken prat now.”
“Drunk, angry, and entitled describes your entire personality prior to leaving England. It doesn’t anymore. I am eager to get to know this new version of my brother. Tell me about your time in America. Clearly it has had a salubrious effect upon you,” Edward observed. “You’re different now.”
“So are you,” Richard parried. “You look happy. Prosperous.”
“I am content with my life. Mostly.”
A momentary thought lodged in Richard’s mind. It should have been my life. Richard flicked it away. Edward wasn’t living Richard’s life; furthermore, he wouldn’t trade places given the choice. “Mostly? What’s missing?”
“I could do without the House of Lords business.” Edward grimaced.
Richard chuckled. “I doubt anyone relishes it.”
“I have noticed a certain distance between you and your bride. Is everything all right between you?”
“Not exactly. Do you know how I came to marry Miriam?” Richard asked, unable to meet Edward’s curious, pitying gaze.
“Not the full story.”
“Her friend has tried to use me in a plot to secure Miriam’s fortune,” Richard said this lightly, as though it were of no import. “And I went along with it because… because I had gotten her friend with child.”
Heavy silence fell between them.
“You see Edward it was nothing but a scheme, but then I went and fell in love. I didn’t want to do it, yet I couldn’t abandon the child.”
“Is there a child?” Edward asked. He shifted away, as though processing what Richard had told him.
“I don’t know,” Richard admitted. Shame pumped through him and chilled his blood. He was sick of feeling this way.
“How much does Miriam know?”
“Everything. So, you see brother I am not a man of honor. I do not deserve your loyalty. At bottom, I am still the same Richard who left you to mourn our father alone.”
Edward let him sulk for several minutes. “I don’t see it that way.”
“No? Tell me, big brother, how you see my situation.”
“I see a man much changed since I sent him away. I see a brother filled with remorse who is trying to find his way forward with a woman he has hurt badly, but whom he cares for deeply,” Edward responded quietly.
The constricting band of pain around his chest tightened until Richard couldn’t breathe. “Everything I do is wrong,” he whispered.
“How do you mean?” asked Edward
“Miriam deserved to be courted by a man who loved her for who she is, not what she has. I knew that from the start, but I couldn’t stop myself from wanting her.”
“Have you told her that?”
Richard shrugged.
Edward was silent for a moment. “I suggest starting by being honest about your feelings.”
“If she’ll listen,” Richard replied.
“Mm,” Edward responded noncommittally. “She’ll listen. I cannot speak for Miriam, of course, but from my perspective consider yourself forgiven. To say that my reentry into English society was difficult is understating the case. No one knew how to handle me, except Harper.”
“Father and I had a long conversation right before he died. He was so worried about you, Richard.” Edward rummaged through the drawers of the heavy, carved oak desk their father and grandfather before him had used to conduct the business of the earldom. There was history in the squeak of old wood. Richard recalled leaving several of the dents and scuffs in the polished surface.
“What is this?” Richard asked when his brother handed him a pale cream envelope.
“Open it,” was all Edward said.
Richard settled himself into a wingback chair near the empty fireplace. The missive was inscribed with the words To Be Read by Richard Upon My Death. Richard turned it over, and with a heavy sense of foreboding, he broke the wax seal. His father’s unmistakable slanted handwriting made his breath catch.
Dear Richard, it began, as most letters did. At least, the ones addressed to him.
I know that Edward’s return home has been a blow for you. You have never lived easily in your brother’s shadow. From the time you were a babe, you have admired and emulated Edward in hopes of gaining his approval. I think it has hurt you when your brother’s regard was not so easily won. I fear your rivalry will end in heartbreak.
This is why I have petitioned King George III to have you made a viscount. You have studied and trained to be an aristocrat; although your propensity for dissolution concerns me greatly, I believe you are capable of outgrowing it with time and proper influence. You have been a dutiful spare in your way. I think you have often felt overlooked. I hope this will go some distance toward telling you how very much I am glad to have you for my son.
Your
loving father, Charles.
When Richard looked up, the room swam until he blinked. Edward stood at the window with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Father never gave up, yet he also chose not to tell you about the prospect lest he get your hopes up only for them to be dashed. It took me some time to come around to the idea, but when you wrote and said that you were about to marry, I decided it was time. I have pressed the king on this matter, and he has agreed to hear us out. We have been requested at his chambers a month hence. As you know these things are subject to royal whim, and I cannot guarantee any particular outcome.”
“Of course,” Richard responded. It was all he trusted himself to say. His world had tilted on its axis at the knowledge that his father cared enough to try and give him the status he craved. He ought to feel grateful. Yet all he felt was…empty.
“Tomorrow morning, we shall ride out to your cottage and examine it for restoration. With time, I believe we could purchase any adjoining parcels to enlarge your estate,” Edward offered.
“It sounds very reasonable,” Richard replied, as though from a long distance away. This ought to be the highlight of his life. He was about to have a home suitable for his bride. And yet, Richard couldn’t escape the feeling that he had not earned it. As though one could possibly earn a title. Nobility was granted, not won. He had yearned for that signifier of approval. But how can he still want it when it would cost him the woman he loves?
“Reasonable. I suppose that is one way to describe it.” Edward clapped him on the shoulder. “We shall ride out tomorrow to see it.”
“Miriam will be very pleased,” Richard said woodenly. It was a lie. She had never cared about titles the way Lizzie did. It was an unexpected gesture of love from beyond the grave, one his brother could have easily let lapse in retribution for the way Richard had treated him. Instead, Edward had pursued it knowing how deeply Richard cared about titles…and now Richard felt ungrateful to say that he might not want one after all.
He didn’t deserve it. He had not earned his brother’s love, nor Miriam’s forgiveness, much less his father’s efforts to see him situated in the position Richard had always yearned for. Yet, Richard felt hollow at the prospect of a loveless marriage and a lonely title. What an empty victory. What a disaster he had made of his life.
Chapter 27
“I promise you shall have your excursion before we leave.”
“I won’t now,” Mrs. Kent observed glumly. “Not with you staying in the countryside until we book passage home.”
Miriam closed her book and tossed it aside. “I am not going to rusticate here in the country. I’m going back to London.”
“No. Miriam. You can’t. You’ll kill yourself,” her nurse wailed.
“I’d rather die living my life in the city than die of boredom here in the country. Besides, there’s the shipping venture to secure.” Miriam made her way through a massive ballroom. “I would stay if I could attend a party here, but it looks as though there hasn’t been a ball at Briarcliff in years.” There was no dust, but the room smelled faintly of disuse.
“Richard found a buyer for your tobacco,” Mrs. Kent reminded her. “Your plan to approach the Gliddon’s directly was inspired.”
“Thank you. Despite everything, Richard and I make good business partners.” She twirled across the room. “What’s through here?”
“It is none of our concern,” Mrs. Kent reminded her, but she didn’t stop Miriam as she pushed open a large double door. The mansion—since Briarcliff apparently did not qualify as a castle, not that Miriam is clear on the difference—had multiple wings. Only the main one was used regularly. Light glowed toward the end of the hall.
“What on earth?” Miriam wondered. Curious, her guardian followed close at Miriam’s heels. Her breath caught in her lungs. Not from fear, but from excitement. A thick glass door opened easily beneath her touch. Inside the room were…plants. The air was lush and warm and soothing to breathe. “A conservatory. I have heard of them.”
“What is a conservatory?” asked her companion. She brushed the wide frond of a fern.
“A glasshouse in which to grow plants year-round. The glass lets in the sun while protecting the plants from cold weather.” Miriam stared around her in wonder. “This is what I want to create with my money from the Exchange.” She inhaled.
“You can’t mean to spend your fortune on plants,” Mrs. Kent replied reasonably, though Miriam could see she was charmed.
“I do, in fact. My health fares best around greenery and plants. Don’t you see? This could be a way to have a year-round garden that could let me remain in the city,” Miriam clapped her hands. This was what she needed. She knew it in her bones. “You know I can’t stand being shipped off to the country.”
“You cannot handle the city air. Not in London, nor in New York,” Mrs. Kent reminded her.
“Yes, but what if I had this refuge to return to each day? I could escape the bad air that taxes my lungs. Miriam burned with excitement. “I cannot wait to tell Richard.”
“Aren’t you leaving him and returning home with me once the venture is established?”
“Yes. Yes, of course,” Miriam replied. But she no longer felt so keen to escape his presence. In fact, she had quite enjoyed working with him to find buyers. There was still the matter of the warehouse, but it had felt as if she was seizing her moment to traipse around London with him. Perhaps it was time she reconsidered whether to use the key to their adjoining door. Night after night, Miriam dreamt of his touch. In the daylight, she savored every glancing contact. Even now, she missed him, despite everything he had done.
She closed the doors to the conservatory. There was no way she would allow him to shut her away in the countryside like her father had done. Miriam had made her choice. She would venture into the world with all its challenges and ambiguities. Because Richard had been right about her all along. She was strong enough to meet the world on its own terms.
“Mrs. Kent. As soon as the men arrive, I wish to return to London,” Miriam said briskly.
“No, Miriam, I cannot permit that.”
“You won’t find Windsor Castle out here,” Miriam replied. She threw open the ballroom door and marched across the inlaid floor with purpose.
“I’d rather have you alive than get to see my castle,” Mrs. Kent reassured her.
“You shall have both,” Miriam declared. And she would have Richard for her husband in truth, despite his flaws. After all, she had her own imperfections. A tendency to believe people’s words too easily, for example. They had made a good pair against all the odds. Now all they needed was for the Thetis to arrive—and they were in no position to act when it did if they remained here in the countryside.
“Are you certain you can handle an outing?” asked Mrs. Kent, aggrieved at the prospect of having two ladies to care for. Richard had gone to the wharf for news of their ship and to investigate additional warehouses. Edward was in session at Parliament.
“It’s only an afternoon garden party. It’s not done, of course. Yet, seeing as it’s the summer and every sensible person is still in the countryside, I intend to take the risk.” She laughed. “Everyone knows I’m terrible at this countess act anyway. No one will be shocked to see me out and about while pregnant with an entire litter of babies.” Harper wrapped her lace shawl around the enormous bump of her stomach. Pink tinged her cheeks and forehead.
“If you are a poor example of a countess, my lady, I tremble to imagine encountering an excellent one,” Miriam demurred.
Harper waved away her feeble objection. “All you need is to learn the ranks, and that takes time. Besides, it’s not fair to keep you and Mrs. Kent cooped up here with me. If I’m trapped inside this lovely cage for another minute, I’ll go mad.”
Lady Briarcliff had indulgently corrected her many errors for the past week. No wonder Richard had been pained by the misuse of his courtesy title in America. No wonder her countrymen had been so keen to escape
the nobility. The ranks added a layer of extra difficulty to navigating this new and powerful social landscape. After all this was the first time since attending boarding school that she had been expected to socialize outside of her small circle of friends and family in New York. It was entirely too complicated.
They could not go on in this peculiar half-married détente. The choice was hers to make, and despite her misgivings, Miriam chose to be with Richard. If only she could find the courage to tell him.
Their hostess, Lady Adele, bounced lightly on the balls of her feet as though she couldn’t contain her excitement at their arrival. “Come this way, I’ve situated the other ladies in the garden.”
“I love gardening,” Miriam offered shyly. “I have one at home.”
“Where is home?” inquired Adele. Judging from her fine linen gown and the soft lace decorating the bodice, she had to be very wealthy.
“New York. Or London, now. It isn’t settled yet.”
A flash of red hair made Miriam’s pulse pick up for a moment, but it was another false alarm. This lady was nearly the mirror image of Adeline.
“You’ll find us overrun with Americans today, Mrs. Northcote. Lady Northcote and her sister are some of the few Englishwomen today.”
“Did someone say my name?” a sultry voice asked behind them. Miriam turned to find a Viola, with her dark hair curling over her shoulder. Harper leaned into her affectionately.
Miriam told herself to relax. London was a big city. There is no way Lizzie could have wormed her way into high society in such a short time. She was imagining Lizzie behind every tree and bush.
“We have quite a collection of Americans to help you feel right at home,” Adeline smiled. “Bea and I hail from North Carolina. And Lizzie, like you, is from New York.”
No.
