Lady Claversham reached for another slice of ham, the thought of Miss Luckington’s misfortunes giving her an appetite.
*
It had been Darius’s intention to spend the morning at Jackson’s Boxing Saloon, but when he left Grafton Street he walked instead to Portman Square to call upon Lady Quidenham. He was shown into the morning room where he found his hostess refolding a letter. She slipped it into her pocket before greeting him with a demand to know what the devil he wanted.
‘To ask a favour of you, ma’am.’
The dowager’s eyes narrowed. ‘After the past few months I am done with putting myself out for anyone, Claversham!’
‘I understand that, madam, but I hope in this case you will be minded to help. It concerns Miss Luckington.’
‘I no longer have any interest in my niece. When we part at the end of the week it will be the last time I shall ever see her.’
He gave a little smile. ‘Forever is a long time, ma’am.’
‘She is a scheming hussy who has used me abominably!’
‘She is a young woman trying to make her way in the world, and at the same time looking after her cousin and her friend. However, it appears now that both those ladies are provided for.’
Lady Quidenham waved a hand. ‘She has made her bed, let her lie in it.’
‘I would rather she lay in mine,’ he murmured.
She looked up quickly. ‘If you want to offer for her then do so. It is nothing to do with me.’
‘I have done so,’ he told her. ‘She will not have me.’
‘Oh? A novel experience for you!’
‘It is indeed.’ He added ruefully, ‘It leaves me in something of a fix. You see, Miss Luckington informed me that all her money is tied up in her cousin’s business, and although the returns are good, they are not enough to keep her in comfort, let alone luxury.’
‘Ha! She may starve in a garret for all I care.’
‘You cannot mean that.’
‘I do! For God’s sake, Claversham, go away and leave me alone! I have had enough of company. I put myself out for Lucia Luckington, brought her to London, took her about everywhere! I have done enough for that young woman.’
‘And has she done nothing for you, my lady?’ He asked her. ‘Can you deny that you have enjoyed yourself in Town? Lucy has made you go into society and you are the better for it, I think. For that alone you should be grateful to her. I am. I have been trying for years to get you out of the house more.’
Her lip curled. ‘What would you have me do, make her my heir and cut you out?’
‘If you wish.’ His response was mild. ‘You know I do not want your money. But Lucy’s need is more pressing, she cannot wait for you to die. I thought you might make her an allowance, that she may live in some comfort when she leaves here.’
The dowager shifted in her chair. ‘She told me she has sufficient funds.’
‘She has pride.’ He smiled. ‘Like you, ma’am.’
He waited silently as the thin fingers tapped on the arm of her chair.
‘I will consider the matter. She has meddled unforgivably, raking up old memories…’ She gave a sudden hiss. ‘Oh go away and leave me in peace, Claversham.’
Darius bowed and left, knowing it would be unwise to press the dowager any further. If Lucy would not confide in him, at least he had done his best to protect her.
Darius was not the only one anxious about Lucy’s future. Miss Morrison could not quite believe her young friend’s assurances that she had everything in hand. She wanted to mention the matter to Lady Quidenham, but her ladyship had been engaged most of the day, first of all with Sir Darius Claversham and after that she retired to her dressing room to write a letter and left instructions that she was not to be disturbed. The day was well advanced, therefore, before Miss Morrison had an opportunity to speak to the dowager. She had been summoned to the drawing room to read to Lady Quidenham and at the appointed hour she went in, clutching the slim volume before her.
‘Before we begin, ma’am, I should like to talk to you. About Lucia.’
Her ladyship’s brows snapped together and she feared for a moment that she would be forbidden to speak, but when the dowager remained silent, she felt emboldened to continue.
‘I do not think her search for accommodation is going very well, ma’am. She had another letter from Little Furzewell today but would not share it with me.’
‘What of it? You know I have washed my hands of the girl.’
‘She is still your niece, my lady. And also my friend. I am beginning to think I should remain with Lucia, to look after her.’
‘Then there would be two of you to house and feed! No, no, you would do better to take up my offer of employment.’
Miss Morrison took a deep breath and clutched the book even tighter to her bosom.
‘I must know she has somewhere to go before I leave Town.’
She felt the full force of the dowager’s fierce gaze.
‘Are your threatening me, Miss Morrison?’
‘No, indeed, madam, I should not dream of such a thing. Merely giving you advance warning that I shall not abandon my young friend.’
There was a scratching at the door and Aston came in, bearing a letter upon a silver tray.
‘You gave instructions that I was to bring any messages as soon as they arrived – ‘
‘Yes, yes.’ The dowager took the note and waved him away.
Miss Morrison watched her break the seal and scan the letter, but whether it was good news or bad, she could not tell. My lady’s countenance was inscrutable.
The silence dragged on. Lady Quidenham slowly lowered the paper to her lap but she continued to stare at it.
‘Madam.’ Miss Morrison gave a little cough. ‘About Lucia.’
‘Yes, yes, I will deal with it. Now leave me, if you please.’
‘Leave you? But we were to continue with Pride and Prejudice this afternoon.’
‘Not now, not now.’ The dowager waved her away. ‘I want to be alone.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Lucy had spent a busy morning at Orchard Street, helping Grace to re-arrange her living quarters and putting up new curtains. It was early afternoon when they finished and Lucy arrived back at Portman Square just as Verity arrived in Lady Winterstoke’s open carriage, inviting her to come for a drive.
Lucy accepted gratefully and, knowing Lady Quidenham would not want her presence, she immediately took her place beside Verity in the barouche. She had barely made herself comfortable when Verity announced that she was leaving Town.
‘Mama wishes to return to Claversham and Darius has offered to come with us,’ she told Lucy as they drove through the park gates. ‘We leave in the morning.’
‘So soon?’ exclaimed Lucy. ‘I shall miss you.’
‘And I you.’ Verity reached for her hand and squeezed it. ‘It has only just been decided and I came as soon as I could to tell you. Darius did suggest that Mama should invite you to join us and I thought she might agree, now she knows you are not going to supplant Darius in Lady Quidenham’s will, but she has taken the business with your cousin very hard. It does no good for Grandmama to say some of our own relations are far more disreputable than Miss Bower, she will not be moved.’
‘That was very good of your brother to try,’ murmured Lucy, the heat stealing into her cheeks. ‘However, you know I have other plans.’
‘Which you are keeping very much to yourself! I wish you will tell me where you are going, if it is not to Brighton with Lady Quidenham.’
‘I shall write to you, when I am settled.’ said Lucy, trying to sound cheerful and confident.
‘Yes, you must,’ Verity declared. ‘I want to know all about your new life.’
‘And so you shall.’
Lucy turned away, showing a spurious interest in the passing crowds. She would have to be very imaginative in her letters. Any lodgings she might find in Little Furzewell would be a far cry from Quidenham House.
But she would not complain. She had enjoyed a season in Town, Morry showed every sign of enjoying her new post as Aunt Evadne’s companion and Grace was happily married. As for Lucy herself, the dividends on her money would help, of course, and she thought she might offer to help Mrs Groves with her dame school to bring in a few extra pennies. If she was careful, and practised strict economy, she thought she might live comfortably enough.
When Miss Claversham delivered Lucia back to Portman Square, they parted with many hugs and promises to keep in touch. Lucy ran into the house to find a letter waiting for her from her friends in Little Furzewell. It contained a list of accommodation currently available in the village but her hopes sank when she perused the details. Rents for the houses were all more than she could afford, and the only lodgings did not sound at all suitable.
A tiny worm of desperation began to gnaw at her insides but she resolutely fought it down. She would write again, and perhaps look further afield. She would not be defeated. Indeed, she had no choice but to continue her search!
As she heard the chimes of the clock, she put aside her letter and scrambled into her dress before hurrying to the drawing room, arriving a little breathless just as Aston announced that dinner was ready. The three ladies took their places at the dining table and even with her own worries, Lucia could not help but see that her aunt was preoccupied and unusually taciturn.
‘Are you feeling ill, ma’am?’ she asked, glancing from the dowager to Miss Morrison. ‘Has anything occurred today to overset you?’
‘I am quite well.’ Lady Quidenham stabbed at her food. ‘But having brought forward my departure from this house, I have discovered that there are several matters here that will not be concluded before I go. The Viscount and his family will be touring the Continent for several months yet and this house must be shut up. Then there is the remainder of my luggage to be sent to the Dower House in readiness for my return in the autumn.
‘Aston will be accompanying me to Brighton, and I do not trust any other servant to deal with this. Thus, I have decided I will allow you to remain here for two more weeks to oversee all the arrangements, if you wish.’
‘Why, yes, ma’am. I should be glad to do so.’
She smiled but the dowager did not look at her. She continued in her usual, brusque tone.
‘I am not one for soft words, Lucia. I still say you have used me very ill, but I recognise that I have an obligation to you.’
‘No, indeed, ma’am. It is I who –’
‘Do not contradict me!’
The dowager’s knife clattered on to her plate. She glared at Lucy for a moment, then picked up the knife and began to cut up her food, talking all the time.
‘There is a cottage in the grounds of the Dower House estate. A small place, but clean and in good order. I shall make it over to you, a deed of gift, or some such.’
Relief and surprise in equal measure washed over Lucy.
‘That is exceedingly kind of you, Aunt Evadne.’
‘I am never kind,’ came the sharp reply. ‘I am merely repaying a debt. Now, let us say no more about it and get on with our dinner!’
Lucy exchanged a smile with Miss Morrison, but she said no more.
*
June rolled on into July and Lady Quidenham and her entourage left for Brighton. The house in Portman Square was very quiet with only Lucy and the London staff remaining. Invitations had dwindled since the revelation of her connection with Orchard Gowns, although one or two acquaintances still requested her company, but Lucy had no desire to go out.
She busied herself around the house, arranging for Lady Quidenham’s belongings to be taken back to the Dower House and packing up her own clothes. As she sorted through the assortment of morning robes, ball gowns and evening dresses, she wondered if she should sell some of them. She could not foresee that she would have an opportunity to wear them again but in the end she carefully packed them away. They held so many memories that she could not bring herself to part with them. Not yet.
Lucy received her first letter from Miss Morrison a week later. She was busy throwing Holland covers over the morning room furniture when the post arrived but she had been longing all morning to go out into the sunshine, so she removed the apron that was protecting her cream muslin gown with its jonquil sprigs and carried the letter out of doors. She walked across to the garden in the centre of the square and sat down on a bench to read.
The letter began unsurprisingly enough with a description of their journey, the house on Marine Parade and the bustling nature of Brighton society.
Many of Lady Q’s acquaintances from Town are here and invitations arrive by each post. My lady grumbles (you know her way, Lucia!) but I think she is secretly pleased and she has not declined a single one!
Lucy raised her face to the sun and gave a little chuckle. ‘How like my aunt!’
She returned her eyes to the page to read on but almost immediately she gave a gasp.
My dear, you will never guess who was our first visitor in Marine Parade. Mr Theale! I was never more shocked, but it appears he wrote to Lady Q, following their meeting at the Royal Institution and they have been corresponding ever since. He says that he had always intended to come to Brighton, but it is my belief that he followed Lady Q here! He has called several times since, and we have not yet been here a se’ennight. I think, my dear Lucia, this is a reconciliation, and although your aunt will not admit it, this must be thanks to you.
She was obliged to go back and read the paragraph again before she could believe it. Was this the debt Aunt Evadne was repaying? She had assumed it was her actions in persuading the dowager to reinstate Fixby.
Lucy felt some of the weight lift from her spirits. Perhaps Aunt Evadne was not quite so angry with her after all. She closed her eyes. How wonderful if the dowager and Linus Theale could be friends again. Even more wonderful if they found they still loved one another!
She felt a sudden stab of loneliness as her thoughts drifted far away from Morry, Aunt Evadne and Brighton. She heaved a sigh and stared down at the path beneath her feet, thinking of the lonely future that stretched ahead of her.
‘Ah, there you are.’
For a moment, when she heard the rich, deep voice, she thought it was her imagination. That she had conjured him by wishful thinking. But no, Sir Darius was striding towards her, dressed in his riding jacket and buckskins, his riding crop clutched in one hand.
‘I received a note from Lady Quidenham, asking me to call,’ he told her, a faint crease in his brow. ‘Yet when I arrived, I was informed she has left Town.’
‘Yes, she has gone to Brighton. I thought you were at Claversham.’
‘I was. The dowager’s note said it was imperative I call this week, if I was to learn something to my advantage.’
‘How strange.’ Lucy waved her own letter. ‘They are most definitely in Brighton. Miss Morrison has written to tell me how much they are enjoying themselves.’
He sat down beside her. ‘And what has she said to make you so unhappy?’
‘I am not unhappy!’
‘When I first saw you here, I had the impression you were quite dejected.’
She sat up a little straighter. ‘Nonsense. I was merely thinking how, how well everything has turned out. You know, of course, that my cousin and Mr Chawton are married? He is determined to help her improve her business.’ She must think of others, rather than her own concerns. ‘Orchard Gowns is already doing very well. Grace told me only yesterday that she has received enquiries for a winter collection and is even now looking for new muslins to sell in the spring!’
‘Good news for your cousin, then.’ He sat down beside her, saying gently, ‘But that is not what you had planned is it? You intended that you and your cousin and Miss Morrison should set up home together, on the proceeds from the business.’
‘Yes, at first, but – ‘
‘Your cousin has married and Miss Morrison is now bosom friends with Lady Quidenham a
nd has gone off to Brighton with her. Which leaves you all alone.’
‘You make that sound like a bad thing,’ she told him crossly. ‘I assure you I am most happy at how it has all turned out. And I am not to be pitied, you know. My aunt is giving me a cottage. A place of my own.’
‘Where you will dwindle into genteel old age! Oh, Lucy, Lucy, it does not have to be like that!’
‘Please!’ she interrupted him, unable to keep a tremor from her voice. ‘Please, do not say anything more. I have been treated more kindly than I deserve. I imposed myself upon my aunt, and indeed upon society, most shamefully. I can only be thankful now that my foolish Grand Plan did not ruin us all!’
He took her hands. ‘Your Grand Plan was commendable in many ways. Indeed, it has proved very successful for your cousin, and for my aunt, too. She was very lonely before you erupted into her life, now she is more like her old self and has a great deal to occupy her, plus a kindly companion whom she may tease and bully to her heart’s content! You must not think too hardly of yourself, my dear.’
‘Thank you. That is very kind.’
‘It is no more than the truth, Lucy.’
She sighed. ‘I would very much like to believe it.’ She gave him a watery smile. ‘Will you believe me when I say I am very glad you came, even if it was a misunderstanding? I am very sorry you have had a wasted journey. I have no idea of what my aunt thought you might find here to your advantage.’ She wiped her eyes, then stared at the little lacy confection. ‘Unless she wanted you to collect your two handkerchiefs, although how she knew they were amongst the clean laundry I do not know!’
‘I do not think that is what she meant at all,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘She knew I would find you here alone, and I think she hoped, like me, that you would reconsider my offer.’ In one lithe movement he slipped to his knees. ‘Dearest Lucy. I know it is not the outcome you wanted from your one season in Town, but do you think you might say yes and marry me? I love you very much, you know.’
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