by Georgie Lee
‘Mary?’ a female voice said over the dance music and Mary’s giggles.
Mary’s face went white as she peered over Silas’s shoulder. He turned to see a woman with Mary’s blonde hair and brown eyes standing behind them.
‘J-Jane,’ Mary stammered.
‘I can’t believe it’s you.’ Jane threw her arms around Mary and hugged her tightly. Mary slowly brought her hands up to grip her sister before throwing off all abandon and hugging her as tightly as Millie and Lottie had hugged Silas at his return. It heartened him to see the welcome and to know that at least one member of Mary’s family hadn’t shunned or forgotten her. Perhaps whatever peace Mary had promised Silas that he would find here, she might, through this reunion discover it, too.
The sisters held each other at arm’s length, admiring the changes that had happened since they’d last seen one another, their excited words tripping over each other as they spoke before they settled enough to have a true conversation.
‘Congratulations on your son,’ Mary complimented, tears glistening in her eyes as she clutched her sister.
‘He’s the most beautiful little boy you’ve ever seen, although with his small belly and no hair, he looks more like Father than anyone else, but Mother says he has my eyes and Peter, well, you know our brother, he has little interest in children.’ Jane laughed, unaware of the tightness in Mary’s smile at the mention of the rest of her family. It wasn’t intentional, Silas could tell, simply the failure to understand how much their lives had deviated since Mary had been gone.
‘This is my husband, Silas Fairclough. He’s Lady Falconmore’s brother.’
‘Why didn’t you write to me that you were married and that you were in London?’ Jane appeared crestfallen that her sister had not reached out to her while they were at last in the same city.
‘I haven’t had the chance. I’ve been in Baltimore for some time and it took a while for your letters to reach me. We left for England shortly after the service and we’ll be here for a while before we return home.’
‘We must find a way to meet again before you leave. You have to see your nephew. Oh, Mary, I’ve missed you so much.’
* * *
Mary clasped Jane tight as she hugged her again, unable to believe that after so much time they were really here together. She should have written to her, she should have given her the chance to be the sister she’d always been instead of fearing her husband and all the many horrors Mary had imagined, the ones that had yet to come true and might never come true. Despite the rest of her family, here was someone who did still love and care for her and who would continue to defy everyone to keep Mary in her life. She should have believed in Jane’s love for her the way she’d come to believe in Silas’s and not allowed her worries to keep them apart. ‘We’ll find a way to meet again, I promise.’
‘Yes, we will.’
‘Jane, what the devil are you doing?’ a man who wasn’t Silas thundered. Mary and Jane stepped apart to see Jane’s husband, Lord Longford, bearing down on them. His face was as red as the rose in his buttonhole as he glared at his wife and Mary. Over his shoulder, the rest of the women watched while pretending not to and Mary’s stomach tightened. The scene she’d feared playing out in the entrance hall with Lord Falconmore was about to play out here, much to everyone’s delight.
‘You remember my sister, Mary.’ Jane’s shoulders drooped as she clasped her hands together and stared at the floor, the fire of defiance she’d shown in promising Mary that they would meet again extinguished.
‘Yes, I remember her,’ Lord Longford hissed, saving all his venom for Mary. ‘How dare you speak to my wife or show your face in good society?’
‘I have every right to speak to Jane, as she does to me, and as much right to be at my sister-in-law’s wedding ball as anyone,’ Mary shot back. She would not give him or the people watching the satisfaction of seeing her crumble or slink away under his imperious sneer, the one filled with every accusation of harlot and fallen women that her father and brother had thrown at her. She was no longer the woman he was looking down his crooked nose at and she would never be that woman again.
Lord Longford recoiled at Mary’s frank response, but it wasn’t enough to make him abandon his effort to shame her. The man was persistent in his spite. ‘I know Lord Falconmore made an imprudent match with that woman of questionable lineage, but I didn’t think he was capable of stooping so low as to allow her disgraceful family to taint his home.’
‘You know nothing of his life and family any more than you know about me or who I am. Therefore, I’ll thank you to keep your opinions of all of us to yourself.’
‘How dare you address me in such a manner, harlot?’
‘Careful how you speak to Lady Mary,’ Silas hissed, stepping between her and Lord Longford, matching him in height and stature. ‘I won’t shrink from calling out any man who insults my wife.’
‘Do you know what kind of woman your wife is?’
Silas stepped closer, almost nose to nose with the Earl. ‘Why don’t you enlighten me and give me a reason to meet you at dawn?’
Lord Longford’s confidence, the one fed by his belief that he had the right to sneer at Mary, faltered in the face of Silas’s courage. Mary held her breath, afraid that Lord Longford might call out Silas or meet his warning with a punch or worse. The music of the reel grated on Mary’s nerves while the two men faced each other, each waiting for the other to do something and decide the matter. The ballroom waited, too, a noticeable hush leaving only the music to fill the air.
‘Is there a problem, gentleman?’ Lord Falconmore appeared at Silas’s side, studying the tense men. He was calm in the face of these two cocks facing each other, but there was no mistaking his strength as a marquess and the owner of this house.
‘I won’t have my wife tarnished by the likes of her,’ Lord Longford snarled, levelling an accusing finger at Mary.
‘Are you daring to address my sister-in-law in such coarse terms?’ Lord Falconmore challenged and Lord Longford jerked down the edges of his waistcoat.
‘No, milord, I’m simply careful about my wife’s reputation.’
‘Then perhaps you should go home where it cannot be sullied instead of lingering here. I’ll be sure in the future to address your concerns by withholding any invitations, as well as my support in the House of Lords, so as not to offend your delicate sensibilities.’
‘But, milord—’ Lord Longford’s face went white with his shock before Lord Falconmore cut him off.
‘Good evening, Lord Longford. Don’t let me keep you from your indignant exit.’
Lord Longford shrank back as if he’d smelled something foul, but he said no more. He reached around Silas and tugged Jane away from Mary. Jane didn’t resist, but stood beside him as silent and shy as their mother had always been around their father. Mary longed to pull her back, to insist that she didn’t have to go with this bully, but she did. He was her husband and she did not have the strength of character to stand up to him that the last four years had instilled in Mary.
Millie stepped up beside Mary, facing Lord Longford with the same determination as her husband. ‘It’s too bad you and Lady Longford have to leave so soon, for we were just about to discuss a shopping excursion. I was hoping Lady Mary and Lady Longford could join us, but I see that won’t be the case.’
‘No, it won’t. Good evening, Lord Falconmore, Lady Falconmore,’ Lord Longford mumbled before taking Jane by the arm and dragging her off into the crowd.
Mary wanted to follow after her sister, but she remained where she was, watching as Jane turned back to her, the anguish on her face at being ripped away from Mary for the second time echoing in Mary’s heart. It was all too much like four years ago and she inwardly cried for what Jane would have to endure from her husband and eventually Mary’s parents when Jane returned home and Lord Longford made the incident kno
wn. He was sure to be that petty.
‘Thank you, Lord Falconmore, for your support,’ Silas offered.
‘It was my pleasure. If there’s anything else I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to let me know.’
‘There is, but I fear tonight isn’t the time to discuss it,’ Silas said, trying to bring some lightness into the heavy mood surrounding them.
‘Then the day after tomorrow. Pay me a visit and we’ll chat while the ladies are off spending our money.’
‘We’ll have a grand time of it, too,’ Millie promised. ‘I’ll take you to all the best modistes and haberdashers in London. Mary will look like a queen by the time I’m through with her.’
Mary did her best to smile and thank her sister-in-law, appreciating her kindness and the same optimism that she shared with Silas, but there were no dresses or bonnets that could take away the pain of losing Jane.
A footman approached the Marquess and whispered in his ear. Lord Falconmore nodded, then faced Silas. ‘It seems Lord Longford is refusing to go without making a scene in the entrance hall. If you’ll excuse me, I have an earl who needs to once again be reminded of his place.’
He strolled off with the footman, leaving Mary and Silas alone, except they weren’t alone, surrounded by everyone who watched and whispered about them. Millie glanced across the ballroom to where Lottie stood with Lilian, both of them wondering what had happened.
‘I’d better tell Lottie and Mother about it before they hear something from someone else.’ Millie gave Mary’s arm a reassuring squeeze. ‘Stay as long as you like and let us know if there is any more trouble.’
‘Thank you.’ Mary was grateful when Millie walked off towards Lottie and Lilian. Mary wanted to be far from the crowds and the music and the too-bright chandeliers. She didn’t regret standing up to Lord Longford and she was grateful for the Falconmores’ support, but the events of tonight were proving taxing. However, she couldn’t leave, not yet. If she and Silas left, it would give her detractors the victory they craved.
‘Let’s dance,’ Mary insisted.
Silas glanced at the people around them. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
Silas gripped her hand and led her back out on to the floor where they took their places for the quadrille. She followed him through the dance, holding her head high, facing each new partner with a smile and self-assurance that she didn’t always feel. If it weren’t for Lord Falconmore, who’d returned to the ballroom to keep an eye on his guests, she was certain her partners would run away from her like rats off a sinking ship.
‘I’m sorry, Mary,’ Silas said as he led her through a turn. ‘I didn’t mean for tonight to go like this. I wanted them to see in you what I see.’
‘They never will.’
* * *
Silas understood that now. He thought he was going to have to strike Lord Longford, but that wouldn’t have changed anything, it simply would have added to the already sordid tale he’d caught snippets of as they’d walked to the ballroom. ‘It was selfish of me to insist on your coming.’
She’d understood the situation better than he ever could and he had refused to listen, thinking his belief in her could overcome anything. This wasn’t the husband he wanted to be, blind to what the person in front of him was trying to tell him, only able to see and hear what he wanted for them instead. It’s how his parents had been with him and look where that had led him.
‘It no longer matters. We won’t have to see them again. This part of my life is over and it feels good to finally cast if off.’
‘Do you mean that?’ He hadn’t expected this.
‘I do. I came to England and this ball to look my past in the eye so it wouldn’t ever trouble me ever again and I have. This was my life once, but not any more. My life is with you, in America, and I don’t regret leaving this one behind.’
The dance ended, bringing them to a standstill in the middle of the other couples on the floor. He marvelled at the spirit she showed in the face of Lord Longford and Silas’s mistakes. He thought the evening had turned into a disaster but he’d been wrong. Mary had faced her demons and conquered them the way he’d wanted her to, the way he longed to do with his own.
‘Then let’s go home.’ There was nothing more for them to prove to anyone or even themselves by remaining here.
‘Yes, let’s.’
He offered Mary his arm and escorted her out of the room. Together they walked with their backs erect, their shoulders straight, ignoring the people who sneered at them when they passed. Those people and their opinions no longer mattered to them. Mary had faced her troubles and conquered them the way Silas would face his. He hadn’t failed her as a husband, but stood beside her and helped her be strong. As they walked out of the Falconmore house and into the waiting carriage, the optimism that had made him a success filled him again.
Chapter Fifteen
‘I’m sorry, Mr Fairclough, I’m afraid I can’t grant you the patent,’ Mr Williams announced from across his immaculately organised desk. It’d been three days since the ball and despite the dinner at Rules scheduled for tomorrow night, Mr Williams had requested this morning meeting with Silas. It wasn’t like Silas to jump at a summons, but the moment he’d received Mr Williams’s note he’d hailed a hack and hurried here as fast as he could. He’d suspected something less than palatable, but he hadn’t expected this.
‘If additional assurances are required from Jasper King or others, financial ones perhaps from my bank, I’m more than happy to provide those.’ Silas wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer especially with something this important.
‘Additional assurances or financial references aren’t why I asked you to meet with me today, but something less tangible.’ Mr Williams exchanged a worried look with Mr Cooper.
Mr Williams’s inability to spit out the reason why he couldn’t give Silas the patent frustrated Silas. He wanted the designer to say the words and stop fiddling around with his pens like a nervous old maid. Silas opened his mouth to tell him so and then shut it. He’d get nowhere by irritating Mr Williams with so frank an assessment of his negotiating skills. As long as Silas was in this office and they were sitting across from one another speaking like civilised gentlemen, there was still a chance that Silas could convince him to grant the patent. ‘Explain your concerns, Mr Williams, and we’ll deal with them. As I’ve discovered in my many years of business, there are very few obstacles that can’t be overcome.’
‘They aren’t necessarily obstacles, Mr Fairclough, but grave concerns one of my investors has about doing business with you.’
‘Then arrange a meeting and allow me to speak to the gentleman. I’m sure I can set his mind at ease.’
‘I’m afraid that isn’t possible.’ Mr Williams fiddled with the pens, knocking one to the side before he stood it upright again. ‘Most of my backers are titled men with more ambition and investment sense than your average aristocrat, but many of their old prejudices about sullying their hands with business, among other things, still remain.’
Silas’s stomach began to sink. He’d been broadsided by Mr Williams’s refusal of the patent, but he could see his reason behind it coming as clearly as a locomotive roaring down a track. He inwardly shuddered to think of the consequences for him, and Mary. The ball the other night had left them believing the past was dead. Mr Williams was about to prove that it wasn’t. ‘What objections could they possibly have to making additional money from their investments, money that will add to the grandeur of their titles?’
‘One of my most important backers is a good friend of Lord Longford’s. I’m not at liberty to say who he is, but he has supplied a great deal of the capital that has allowed me to take my ideas from mere drawings to working locomotives. It’s because of him and the large amount of money he’s invested in my enterprise that I have to refuse the patent.’
‘
What objection could he possibly have to being involved in this particular venture, especially one that won’t even be in England where it can trouble him?’ He knew exactly what this friend of Lord Longford’s objections were, but if Mr Williams was going to allow his dreams to be controlled by this narrow-minded backer and turn down a profitable opportunity because of some lords’ overabundance of concern for social gossip then Silas wanted Mr Williams to say it aloud.
‘My backer does not have objections to the money or opportunities your business plan entails, but to the reputation it and those connected to you might bring to bear on him.’ Mr Williams tugged at his collar, hoping that this was enough for Silas to understand. It was, but he wasn’t going to let him get away without saying it outright.
‘The reputation of which people, Mr Williams?’ Silas perched on the edge of his chair and rested his elbow on the desk, fighting the urge to sweep everything off the top of it, including the pens Mr Williams kept playing with.
Mr Cooper continued to hunch over his paperwork, pretending not to listen.
Mr Williams let go of the pens and sat back in his chair to place some distance between him and Silas. ‘Your wife’s reputation, Mr Fairclough.’
Silas trilled his fingers on the wood, working hard to control his temper. ‘Are you besmirching my wife’s good name based on rumours you’ve heard from illustrious men, the kind that will give you money, but never allow a man of your common background to dine at their table? Are those the people making decisions about your company and its future?’
‘I have no choice. If it was up to me I’d offer you the patent, but without this man’s investments I can’t continue my work. My company would fold and I’d lose everything. Surely you must understand that?’
Silas stood, making Mr Williams press back even further in his chair. ‘I do, but what I don’t understand is your cowardice. A man of your genius should tell him to take his pounds and prudery elsewhere. If he refuses to make money and build a future because of some objection to a lady to whom he has no connection, who no longer resides in this country, and you allow him to have a say in the running of your company, then you and your enterprise are going to fail. Not today, but tomorrow when every opportunity has passed you by because some toffee-nosed lord who never worked a day in his life told you what to do.’