The Lost Heir

by Harriet Knowles

  “Not this fellow.” William slapped the animal’s flank to make him move over, and began rubbing down its other side. “He has kind eyes.” Sadness filled him, the willingness and kindness would not last long; some riders did not treat the horses well.

  When he’d finished, he bent to check the animal’s hooves. While it was true he was in a similar position, living below whatever his station in life had been before; he, at least, could choose to move on if his life was unbearable. The horse could not.

  He smiled wryly. It was one of the few occasions he regretted not having the money to live well. There had been a number of horses he’d wished to buy, to relieve from the rigours of post life, and treat as honoured mounts. This animal had a small patch of white behind its ear. Although hidden mostly by the mane, it was still not a suitable animal for a matched set so prized by the highest families. Not much of a reason to be a post horse, though.

  William had found it necessary to move a number of times over the last six years. Some grooms and coachmen goaded him unmercifully. William knew his voice and manner alienated many of those he had to live and work amongst. Some thought he affected the accent deliberately, some thought he might be trying to catch them out in dishonesty and laziness.

  Most tolerated him, but kept their distance. William didn’t mind. He felt himself to be of a taciturn, unsociable nature. He wasn’t afraid of his own company, and used the time as profitably as he could.

  It was not as good as it could be, of course. Without patronage, he knew he couldn’t get far. But, after his work was completed, he would wash as best he could under the pump in the yard, and make his way into the inn. Old Mr. Price, the landlord, had been bemused when William first came into the inn, offering to work without payment to gain experience.

  The older man had come to rely on him a great deal, paying him the odd shilling when it could be afforded, and letting him take each day’s old newspapers back to his cot above the stables.

  Thus William was able to discover news of those in society, what was happening in the war, and in Parliament. He read voraciously. Eventually, he must surely come across a familiar name, a sketch of someone who stirred a memory in his mind. But there was nothing. He was on his own.

  He was determined. He would find some way to escape the poverty of his employment. He redoubled his efforts to save what he could, and learn as much as possible.

  Soon he began assisting Mr. Price to keep the books for the inn, helping with the accounting, and preparing the papers when a loan was needed. It pleased him to know he could ease the old man’s mind, and also practice his skills.

  Being literate and numerate had to be a big advantage, and he was determined to make a better life for himself.

  The autumn was marked by a series of strong gales, and the stable lads were hard put to keep the horses calm and ready for work.

  William was at the head of one coach as the coachman held the door for the passengers to climb in. Two smaller lads held the horses’ heads as they danced in eagerness to be off, the wind unsettling.

  A gust suddenly blew a cloud of loose papers into the yard from the road, and he instinctively caught at the nearest ones. Seeing columns of closely written figures, he snatched at the rest.

  Cursing grooms tried to stop the horses bolting as papers wrapped round their ears, and William hurried around, collecting what he could, nodding his thanks at the diminutive lad who helped him.

  When he’d found all there were, he hurried into the inn, to the tiny chamber Mr. Price had recently offered him as a reward for his work in the evenings. He’d sort the papers later and see if he could find the owner. Satisfied, he hurried back down to his duties.

  Early next morning, washed, shaved, and attired as neatly as he could be, William presented himself at the warehouses of Gardiner’s Import Emporium. In his hand was a satchel borrowed from Mr. Price. Inside it, he carried the neatly arranged papers he had painstakingly sorted in order, and dried out.

  He resolutely refused to state his business to the clerks at the front of the offices, using his imposing appearance and natural hauteur to state he would only speak to the owner himself.

  Finally, he was shown into the office of Mr. Gardiner. The man stood beside the desk. “How can I be of assistance, Mr. … er?”

  “Stoke.” William had long ago taken part of the name of the village where he’d been discovered when he needed a family name. It was anonymous enough not to be identifiable.

  “Mr. Stoke.” Gardiner regarded him curiously. “It will be hard to assist you when you refuse to tell my clerk the nature of your business.”

  William bowed his head. He must be careful not to allow his speech to degrade in the way he permitted most days, to fit in with his working colleagues.

  “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr. Gardiner. I was in the stable yard of the Swan Inn at Lombard Street yesterday, and I fear the wind plucked some papers from the hand of one of your staff or your actuary. I was fortunate to be able to collect most of them, and have sorted them into order for you.” He smiled thinly, standing straight and proud. “I was unwilling to state my business outside this office, as it appears the contents of the papers might be confidential to your business.”

  “Ah.” Mr. Gardiner looked eagerly at the satchel William carried. “Do you have the papers with you?”

  “I do.”

  “I’m very grateful to you for calling,” the older man remarked. “In fact, I had just instructed my actuary to send his junior down to search again. They are exceedingly important. Even if incomplete, it will be invaluable to have what there is returned to me.”

  William nodded; put the satchel on a chair and opened it. “I agree. In sorting them, I was able to ascertain the majority of the accounts have been recovered. The few papers missing, I believe, do not contain any confidential matters, and will not adversely affect your business standing.” He drew out the sheaf of papers and handed them at once to Mr. Gardiner, who took them eagerly, and began to leaf through them.

  “You’re right, Mr. Stoke. I’m delighted to have them back, and so soon, before they could fall into the hands of my competitors.”

  He went behind his desk and opened the drawer. “Let me reward your honesty.”

  William shook his head. “I want no payment, sir. I’m happy to have been of assistance. If you wish to help me at all, I would be glad of a few moments of your time, if you can spare them, for some advice.”

  Gardiner smiled faintly. “Most men are happy to dispense advice, even when it has not been asked for, Mr. Stoke.” He glanced at the clock. “I’m afraid I have no time to spare today. If you are able to call tomorrow, or on Thursday, at about three o’clock, I would be happy to see if I am able to answer your questions.”

  William bowed. “I am grateful, sir. I will call tomorrow at three.”

  He walked back to the inn with his head held high. Somehow, he knew this was his chance. Gardiner seemed a reasonable man. Perhaps he would be generous with his advice. William might be able to discover the best way to invest the few shillings he’d been able to garner.

  Soon he could begin to amass his fortune. He chuckled to himself. To get a fortune from nothing — in an honourable manner — might well take more years than he was willing to wait.

  But he had been fortunate to survive six years ago. He’d been fortunate not to have any lasting ill-effects which might have rendered him unable to work. Fortune might smile on him again.

  4

  That afternoon, Elizabeth Bennet ran up the steps of number twenty-three, Gracechurch Street, and hugged her aunt.

  “Oh, I’m so pleased to see you, Aunt Gardiner. Thank you for saying I could come back to London.”

  Her aunt laughed. “Have you been troubling your mother’s nerves again, Lizzy?”

  Elizabeth tucked her arm into her aunt’s and they went into the house together. “I don’t know what it is I do. Even if I’m sitting quietly with my sisters, doing my needlework,
she still begins to find fault with me. It’s as if the very sight of me troubles her.” She sighed heavily. “At least she is pleased when you say I can come and stay.”

  “You’re always welcome, Lizzy. And perhaps Jane might wish to join you next time.”

  Elizabeth sighed again. “Jane’s seventeen now, Aunt. She fancies herself in love with John Lucas, and is unwilling to miss any opportunity of seeing him before he goes back to his ship.”

  Aunt Gardiner shook her head. “It is dangerous to give your heart to a man who has to fight in this terrible war. I hope the young man stays safe.”

  Elizabeth tossed her head. “I’m not convinced it is a true attachment on Jane’s part. There is no one else in Meryton for her to fix her affections on, and John has been home for nearly eight weeks now, waiting for his new ship to commission.” She shrugged. “He has no fortune, in any case, so they can’t afford to marry.”

  “Come through and have some tea, dear. We can talk more about your news from home. Afterwards, you will have to go up to the nursery and greet your cousins. They’ve been waiting impatiently for your return.” Her aunt smiled as she waited for Elizabeth to take off her coat and hat and give them to the housekeeper.

  “It’s not me they want,” Elizabeth laughed. “Just my stories.” She took her seat on the sofa next to her aunt. “I can’t wait for baby Maddie to grow a little older. I can tell her stories of fairies and princesses, instead of having to invent pirates and dragons.”

  “You’ve a ready imagination, Lizzy. It’s an admirable trait for an older cousin.” She looked up.

  “It sounds as if your uncle is home.” She smiled. “He sounds rather happier than he was yesterday.”

  “What happened yesterday?” Elizabeth bit into a small cake.

  “I’m not sure,” her aunt shook her head. “Something about some lost papers. He was very disquieted.”

  “Good afternoon, Lizzy!” Her uncle bounced into the room, and crossed to his wife.

  “It is good news, Madeline.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “The papers have been returned, almost complete. It is an extraordinary thing.”

  “Sit down and tell us, Edward. I’m pleased for you.” Aunt Gardiner patted the chair beside her.

  The next afternoon, Elizabeth sat listening in her uncle’s office, as she waited for the chief seamstress to finish discussing business matters with Uncle Gardiner. Mrs. Oliver was going to take her through the great fabric warehouse, and show her why they had chosen these particular fabrics to import.

  There was a knock on the door, and the clerk put his head round the door. “Mr. Stoke is here for his appointment with you, Mr. Gardiner.”

  Elizabeth looked up curiously, but she couldn’t see past the clerk.

  “Thank you. Please ask him to wait a moment.” Her uncle turned back to the seamstress. “All right, Mrs. Oliver. Thank you for agreeing to show my niece why you have chosen as you have, and perhaps you can bring her back to my office in one hour.”

  As Elizabeth followed Mrs. Oliver from the room, she glanced surreptitiously at the tall young man waiting in the outer office, storing up a memory to think about later and add to what her uncle had surmised the previous day.

  She didn’t think he’d noticed her; his gaze was far away. It was as if he was planning what he was going to say — what he hoped for, at this meeting with her uncle.

  She wondered where he was from. Uncle had been right. The young man was dressed simply, as a labourer would be; but his bearing and manner were completely at odds with his garb. He was handsome, too. She smiled to herself as she went through to the enormous, cold warehouse, the great bolts of fabric stacked high.

  It was quite obvious he could not be what he seemed, and she wondered if her uncle would find out more about him.

  Yes, he was exceptionally handsome. Her fourteen-year-old heart beat a little faster. She hoped there was some heroic story behind his mismatched appearance.

  “Here you are, Miss Bennet. I’ve had snippets of the various satins cut for you, and made a list of the prices we pay, the cost of transport, and how we market them.” Mrs. Oliver bent over the worktable. “I thought we could do the muslins another day if you’re interested.”

  Elizabeth pulled up the chair. “I’m certainly interested.” She picked up a lovely pale-rose-coloured piece. “Thank you for working so hard to show me what happens.”

  One day, her life might be formed around a husband’s business, because it was foolish to think her childhood dreams of marrying a wealthy man were certain to be fulfilled. If her wish didn’t come to pass, Elizabeth was determined to be ready to make the most of whatever her husband might need her for.

  5

  William hurried back to the Swan Inn. He was incredibly fortunate Mr. Gardiner had been so generous with his time as to give him a whole hour — and, better still, an offer of employment. In fact, if the man’s niece had not returned to the office at four o’clock, William might still be there. But it was better this way. He would have time to put in several hours in the stable during the busy hours when coaches would stop for the night. And he could assist Mr. Price later in the evening.

  William wasn’t looking forward to telling the old man he was taking the offer of an apprenticeship with Mr. Gardiner, but it was the opportunity he had dreamed of for many years.

  He smiled as he recalled Gardiner’s words about his niece as they had watched her leave the office with the seamstress. “Lizzy is determined to learn what she can of business matters, Mr. Stoke. She wishes to ensure her security by being able to work, should it ever prove necessary.”

  William had mumbled a few words, hoping it was what his interviewer wished to hear. But something within him had rebelled at the thought. Gentlemen’s daughters ought to marry well. Then their security moved from being the responsibility of their father or brother to their husband.

  Gardiner had glanced at him strangely as they waited for an office girl to bring them tea. “Excuse my curiosity, Mr. Stoke, but you must be aware you cast a contradictory appearance.”

  William had bowed his head. “Indeed. But I cannot tell you much, Mr. Gardiner. There is a great deal I do not know of the past.” He had avoided the conversation continuing in that vein, instead turning it to where he was currently employed and his determination to better himself.

  Gardiner had nodded. “Tell me what you discerned of my business from the papers you recovered.”

  William had been shocked. “I tried very hard not to be overly curious, sir. I only looked at what I needed to, in order to ascertain to whom the papers ought to be returned, and in what state of order.”

  Gardiner was a very astute man. “But you would have wished to use the opportunity to your advantage, no doubt?” He smiled slightly. “Tell me what advice you seek.”

  William had begun to tell him how he wished to begin to learn to invest, with the necessity of beginning in a very small way, but Gardiner had interrupted.

  “Such small amounts do not lend themselves to formal investment in business — as you must know, given how well versed you seem to be on current events. The best way to increase your fortune rapidly would be in the realm of money-lending to those you work with. There are always some who cannot order their affairs — and those who fall onto hard times.” His gaze never left William’s face.

  “No. I will not do it, sir.” William shook his head. “Of course, it has occurred to me as a possibility, but I would not wish to gain advantage at the expense of others, especially those who would find repayment a great hardship.”

  He would not wish to take Gardiner’s advice if the businessman recommended such a course. But he had looked up details of the company, and the man had been well-recommended in business circles. William would be surprised if he recommended money-lending.

  “Good! Very good!” Gardiner had clapped his hands together. “Mr. Stoke, I’m impressed your ambition will not be at the expense of your humanity, and I would like to offer yo
u the chance to work with me. I’m impressed at what you tell me, and I can offer you a way to use your talents to advantage.” He’d chuckled. “You will be well served by your savings if you use them to purchase suitable apparel to work here.”

  William started his apprenticeship at Gardiner’s Import Emporium the next week. To appease Mr. Price, he promised to continue to work at the inn a few evenings each week, and retained his accommodation there, knowing he would find no better at the price.

  He plundered his small store of savings, purchasing a suit and a better shirt, the first new garments he could remember acquiring.

  Pen and ink, together with a new small notebook, completed his purchases, and Mr. Price carefully brushed his old hat.

  “It’s for you to use, William. I might ask to borrow it back if I have to attend a funeral, but otherwise I don’t need it.”

  “Thank you.” William observed his appearance in the glass. At last, he looked rather more at one with his clothes. Mr. Price thought so, too.

  “One day, I hope you discover where you are from. It’s been wrong you’ve had to live for so many years needing to work below what must be your proper station in life.” He’d held out a shaking hand. “But I have never seen such determination, and such willingness to work far beyond the level required. It’ll stand you in good stead, my lad, you’ll see.”

  “Thank you.” William thought of the man as almost a father figure, with the same respect he had for Mr. Owen, the long-ago apothecary. He smiled. He still wrote a brief note to Mr. Owen occasionally, saying he was well, and working hard, although he never said where he was living, despite knowing it meant he could never hear back.

  He felt very strange as he strode out of the inn in his new suit on that first day, and a few raucous shouts from his former colleagues echoed to him down the road.