Tom: To Secure His Legacy (Other Pens, Mansfield Park Book 4)

by Leenie Brown

  “You are?” Faith’s needle stilled. She had not thought that her friends might ever have enough to invest, but it would be an excellent thing for them to do. There just might actually be an end to all this sewing if money could be put to work properly. If only Mrs. Johns had been left more by her husband, then they might already be working their way out of workbaskets and music lessons and back towards what they had always known.

  “I am not without a quick mind, my dear. I did run an estate and kept it as solvent as I could despite my husband’s weaknesses.” She sighed. “I miss him – towering merchant accounts and all. We loved each other dearly. He forgave me my weaknesses, and I forgave him his – as long as his weakness did not involve the keeping of a mistress – that was my one stipulation. A woman who can abide a husband who wanders from bed to bed is beyond my ability to comprehend, even if I do know there are many who do put up with such things.”

  “If a woman could provide for herself…” Faith did not finish the statement.

  “Perhaps one day all young ladies will be as learned as you are in the workings of percents and such.”

  “Perhaps,” Faith agreed.

  “Now that I have discovered what caused your frown, I should like to discover what was the source of your smile before you began to worry for my future.” Mrs. Johns rose and limped to where the workbaskets were laid out. She placed her finished garment in the basket on the left before taking a new project from the basket on the right. “Does it have anything to do with your young man?”

  Her young man. Those were very pleasant words to hear, for Mr. Bertram – Tom, she rolled his name around her mouth silently – was indeed hers. He had only to earn back his losses, and then he would offer for her. He had said nearly those exact words on three occasions.

  “Tell me about how wonderful he is,” Mrs. John’s prodded. “I wish to hear all about your good fortune in finding a gentleman who loves you as you deserve.”

  “You may not start any discussion of Mr. Bertram without me,” Olivia said from the door. “I have only to go up to my room for a moment.”

  “We will wait,” her mother assured her. “But be quick,” she called after her. “Olivia might have a fourth student,” Mrs. Johns said to Faith. “Soon, she shall have one for every day of the week, and then more of my sewing money can be set aside.”

  “That is excellent.”

  Mrs. Johns raised an eyebrow and gave Faith a pointed look. “You do not sound as happy as you should be.”

  “She should be singing at musicales in music rooms not teaching in one.” The fact that Olivia could not participate in any of the activities where she might find a husband was one of the things that caused Faith to feel a trifle guilty for having found a happy future with Mr. Bertram.

  “Someone will find her. She is too beautiful to be ignored for long.” Mrs. Johns assured Faith. “Three of the possible four young ladies who come for lessons have brothers who escort them to our door – unmarried brothers.” She pressed her lips together quickly as Olivia entered.

  “Now, you may tell us all about Mr. Bertram,” Olivia said. “You have not been to see us in days, and the last we heard you had danced with him at a ball and were going to go driving with him.”

  Faith had insisted that Robert allow her to spend a few hours with Olivia and her mother after that ball where her brother had played matchmaker. He had sent a note to Mr. Bertram telling him to call an hour later than was normal, and Mr. Bertram had not grumbled one bit about being put off for an hour.

  “He took me to see the store that he is helping finance.” She put her sewing aside while she spoke. “It was in the process of being made ready. We will have to go there together when it is opened. It shall be quite a sought-after place, I can tell you that. I was impressed by the plans and with the work that had been done when I saw it. Mr. Bertram was correct about Mr. Durward never doing anything which is not excellent. I quite approve of Mr. Durward. He was drawing up ledgers when we were there, and he has some very firm beliefs about credit not being abused.” She looked down at her empty lap.

  “You may say whatever it is you are thinking,” Mrs. Johns encouraged. “I know my husband’s weaknesses. I shall not faint away to hear them mentioned.”

  “Are you certain?” Faith asked quietly.

  “I am positive,” Mrs. Johns said.

  Faith blew out a breath. “He will not extend credit to anyone who has not settled accounts within a specified amount of time, so his store will not contribute to someone needing to take in sewing to keep herself.” She smiled apologetically at Mrs. Johns.

  “I think that is a very good thing,” Olivia said.

  “As do I,” Mrs. Johns agreed, reaching over to grasp Faith’s hand. “You are so caring, my dear. So caring.”

  Faith blinked against the tears in her eyes. “I wish I could do more for you.”

  “And I would not allow you. You do enough as it is. Dressing like a maid to come visit us and spend your time sewing things for which you will not receive a cent – that is enough.”

  “It does not feel like enough,” Faith admitted. She felt so guilty for her own good fortune – for having a father who saw to finances as he should and for a brother who was caring enough to be badgered into learning to behave properly.

  “Well, it is,” Olivia said. “Of course, when you are Lady Bertram, I should not be opposed to being asked to visit you.”

  “Olivia!” her mother scolded.

  Faith laughed. “You could not keep me from asking for such a thing, and,” her cheeks flushed, “I am certain Mr. Bertram would be willing to allow me to invite you both.”

  “I am so pleased for you!” Olivia cried. “When will you allow us to meet… Does he know you are here?” She rose from her chair and went to the window. “For it seems as if he wishes to stop here.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” Faith joined her friend at the window just as Tom removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. Something was wrong.

  “I must speak to him,” she said, moving quickly to the door of the sitting room.

  “Invite him in,” Mrs. Johns called after her. “You can speak in the music room.”

  “Thank you,” Faith said from the doorway before rushing to open the front door and call to Mr. Bertram before he rode away.

  “Mr. Bertram!” She waved to him from the step, her heart sinking as she took in his expression when he turned her direction. There was a deep furrow between his eyes and a sad downward turn to his mouth.

  “Come in,” she said when he rode over to her.

  “I cannot,” he turned and looked up the street and then back at her as if he was lost.

  “Please, come in and tell me what has happened. Please.” She held her breath as he deliberated if he should do as she asked or not. Finally, he swung down from his horse, and tying it up, entered the Johns’ home.

  “In here.” She motioned to the music room.

  He paused at the door. “I should greet the ladies of the house. It is only proper.”

  Faith was not at all certain that he was in any condition to greet anyone, but she acquiesced and led him into the sitting room. “Mrs. Johns, Miss Johns,” she said, “this is Mr. Bertram.”

  Olivia and her mother both rose and curtseyed.

  “It is good to meet you,” Mrs. Johns said, “but, forgive me, you do not look well, sir. Is there anything we can get you for your relief?”

  “A glass of wine,” Olivia offered.

  “No, indeed, ma’am. I thank you, but I shall be well as soon as…well…” he shrugged. “I do not actually know when I will be well. I have had some dreadful news.” He looked at Faith, and she thought he might cry because his eyes were glistening.

  “Then do not let us keep you from doing what needs to be done,” Mrs. Johns said. “I do hope you will call on us when things are in a better state for you.”

  He nodded and, giving a small bow, ducked out of the room and crossed to the music ro
om where he paced the small room for a moment before turning to Faith. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again before dropping into a chair and saying, “I may be Sir Thomas before the end of the week.”

  Faith’s hand flew to her heart. The poor man! No wonder he looked lost.

  “There was a fire.” He shook his head. “A candle tipped over. One wing of the house is in need of repair.”

  “And your father?”

  “He was injured in the task of putting out the flames. His shirtsleeve….” He pressed his lips together and shook his head.

  “He was burned?”

  Mr. Bertram nodded and blew out a breath. “Mother has told me not to rush excessively in returning home, but I will leave tomorrow.” Again, he shook his head. “After I see Durward,” he added in a whisper. “I would see him today, but he is overseeing the arrival of a shipment of goods. Mansfield will need the money. I cannot leave my home in ruins to pursue our venture.” He rose. “Mr. Gardiner may be willing to join them, or perhaps his nephew Mr. Darcy would like to invest with them.” He turned his hat in his hands. “Someone will take my place.”

  “Oh, Tom,” Faith whispered.

  He did not lift his eyes from studying the hat in his hands. “I cannot marry – not now. Not for some time. I will understand if you cannot wait. I do not know how long it will take to set things to right at Mansfield, but I cannot ask you to be my wife when things are as they are. I will not put you in danger of…” He looked up and around the room. “Of this. I would never wish to even have you worry that this might be your lot because I was foolish in my youth and wasted my inheritance.”

  He took the few steps necessary to close the gap between them. A tear slid down his cheek when he placed his hand on her cheek. “I will always love you,” he whispered.

  “And I, you,” she pressed her cheek into his hand, desperately wanting him to understand that she would be his no matter the circumstances.

  He shook his head. “No.” He kissed her forehead. “Find another. Do not waste your life waiting for me.” He kissed her forehead once again, and then hurried from the room.

  Chapter 15

  The miles ticked by much more slowly than normal as Tom sat inside his carriage attempting to occupy his mind with something worthwhile instead of either disappointment or sorrow. He had managed to sleep for part of the trip – likely because he had not slept at all last night. He had paced and paced.

  He leaned his head back and blew a breath at the ceiling of the vehicle. Meeting with Durward had not been easy. A man did not like to feel his failure or see it in the sad smile of his friend. Of course, Durward understood the need for Tom to withdraw from the offer.

  “Only if a replacement can be found,” Tom said to the emptiness of the carriage. Part of him wished for Durward to have success straightaway in finding another partner, and part of him – the part that wanted so badly to succeed in a venture he had chosen – wanted it to be an impossible thing to replace him. But he knew that he was not irreplaceable. Funds could be found elsewhere. There had to be at least one other investor of fine character of whom Durward would approve.

  He closed his eyes and imagined a fair face and sunset hair. If only he had not been so foolish in his past. If only he had not wasted so much money. If only he had succeeded in his venture with Durward and been able to marry Miss Eldridge before he was to be faced with the possibility of claiming his inheritance. That was likely the part of the whole ordeal that hurt the most.

  He did not know exactly what he would find at Mansfield when he arrived, but he knew it would not be anything which would make him financially sound enough to offer for Faith. She had seen the devastation of a mismanaged estate. He had seen it in the few moments it had taken him to greet Mrs. and Miss Johns. He could not ask her to put herself in a place that would cause her worry – not even for a few years.

  He wished with all his heart that he could just throw off this new responsible Tom and act impulsively as he used to do. Then, he would be able to reason himself into accepting that things were not as bad as they seemed. It would not be too much to ask her to marry him. Nor was it necessary to repay what was lost. A fire was not something for which someone could plan. It was an act of God providing him with a reason to stop running after repaying his debts.

  He shook his head and laughed sadly. He could see those deep blue eyes of his angel narrowing as her lips pursed and her arms folded across her lovely chest. And he knew that, while a fire could not be foreseen and disasters did occur, a gentleman must have laid aside something to assist in such times. He had heard her say something very like that to Robert on more than one occasion during a financial meeting.

  He sighed and looked out the window just as Mansfield came into sight. There were boarded up windows in the damaged wing, but other than that, there was no evidence of fire from the outside. Perhaps the cost of repairs would be less than what he expected.

  Sadly, when he finally arrived, and, after greeting his mother, had been shown the destruction left by the fire, he knew that while the shell of the wing was intact, the interior would all need to be rebuilt. There were too many damaged beams. A house would not stand the test of time if its structure were merely patched up to appear to be proper. His lips curled upward slightly. Miss Eldridge would approve of such a thought.

  Tom stood at the entrance to the damaged wing and shook his head.

  “It is overwhelming, is it not?” his younger brother, Edmund, asked.

  Tom nodded. “I feel gutted.” He blew out a breath and gathered his resolve. “But, we shall see it healed eventually. I will set upon creating a plan as soon as I have seen Father. Will you join me?”

  “In seeing Father?” Edmund asked as they began walking toward the staircase which would lead them to the floor upon which the family quarters were located.

  “Yes, that and in creating a plan. You always were better with numbers than I was, and you always knew what was best to do.”

  Edmund laughed. “Not always. I nearly married Miss Crawford.”

  “Well, yes, there is that,” Tom replied with a grin. “She is betrothed, by the way.”

  “Is she, indeed?” There was no little amount of surprise in his brother’s tone. “I mean, I never expected she would not marry, but…” He shrugged. “I do not know what I thought actually.”

  “I would imagine you thought very little about a woman who is not your wife.” How long had it been since he and Edmund had actually spoken so easily about anything?

  “This is true,” Edmund agreed. “Fanny is…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head.

  “So much more than you could have imagined finding?”

  Edmund paused on the step just before the landing and looked up at his older brother in surprise. “Yes, but how do you know that?”

  Tom shrugged and turned away from him.

  “Have you found a lady to marry?” Edmund asked as he hurried to catch up to his brother.

  Tom paused with his hand on the doorknob to his father’s room. “I thought I had.”

  Edmund pushed at Tom’s shoulder attempting to turn Tom to face him. “What happened?”

  Tom drew and released two breaths before he found the words that he thought he could say with any amount of calm. “Let me see Father first.”

  “Of course,” Edmund replied just as Tom knew he would. Edmund was far too obliging at times, although at present Tom was happy for that particular character trait.

  “You know,” Edmund continued, “I am not without some experience in thinking I was in love only to discover I was not.”

  Tom held the door open and was just about to enter. “No,” he said softly, “you are not. However, I have not found myself to have thought I was in love.” Looking into the room, he could just see the end of his father’s bed. “I love her very dearly,” he said to Edmund and then added, “but first we must see father.”

  His father attempted to smile when Tom approached the be
d.

  “It is good to see you, my son,” Sir Thomas said in a voice that did not entirely sound like his father. It was much more feeble sounding than Tom had ever heard. Even when his father had been ill for a time in Antigua, he had not sounded as weak as he did now.

  Tom swallowed the sorrow he felt at such a revelation and rested a hand on his father’s leg. He would have grasped his hand, but it was bandaged as was his chest. A small bit of scorched skin showed on the left side of his father’s neck. A bottle of laudanum stood on the table beside the bed next to a decanter of wine. The pain his father was in must be immense.

  “You have done well,” his father continued. “I was pleased to read your last report.”

  “Thank you, but we do not need to speak of finances at present. You should rest.”

  His father grimaced as he shook his head slightly. “No, we must talk while I still can. I am not unaware that these injuries might claim me even if Fanny assures me they will not. She is such a sweet girl, you know.”

  “I have no doubt she is,” Tom answered. “She always was when she was young.”

  “I wish I had noticed it when she was a girl,” his father stared at the ceiling above him. “There is a lot that I wish I had done but did not.”

  “And there is a lot that I have done which I wish I had not,” Tom said solemnly.

  “Speaking of which,” his father said, “the money I had given you for your purposes…”

  “I have spoken to Durward, and the money should be available to me shortly to put toward repairs.”

  “Durward?” Edmund asked.

  “The fellow he was going into business with,” their father replied before turning his eyes toward Tom. “I am sorry, son.”

  “Not as much as I am,” Tom answered honestly.