A Well-Trained Lady (Seasons of Change Book 4)

by Jess Heileman

  “Yes, Mother.” My voice was empty, hollow. Just as I was.

  Mother released my shoulder and walked to the door, stopping when her hand grasped the doorknob. “Do not thwart me again or there shall be severe consequences.” The door closed behind her.

  Leah’s gaze continuously returned to my reflection as she removed the ineffective pins from my hair, but I had no strength to meet it and witness her pity.

  When the servants had towed in the bath, filled it, and departed, Leah helped me to undress. As I soaked in the warm water, I felt no pleasure and no cleaner. Perhaps it was because I was sullied on the inside, and no amount of water could wash that away.

  When I was all dried and dressed, Leah began combing through my hair, her hands gentle as she worked through the knots. She continued combing long after the knots were all removed. She hadn’t spoken a word since Mother left, but I felt her care in her silent tenderness.

  “I am grateful for you, Leah.”

  She gave a small smile.

  “I hope you will choose to stay on with me when I marry.”

  Her comb stopped midway through my hair, and I glanced at her reflection, nervous to discover regret on her face. Losing Leah would be unbearable in this moment. To my great relief, she nodded. “I will be happy to stay on with you wherever you go, miss.”

  I reached up for her hand, and she placed it in mine. “Thank you.”

  A soft knock sounded.

  Leah moved to the door and slowly opened it.

  “Is Arabella readied enough to see me?”

  “Papa.” I was already on my feet as Leah let him in and slid out the door, closing it behind her. “Mother told me you were out with the gentlemen.”

  He shook his head. “I informed them I was too exhausted from my travels these past few days to join them.” He lifted a finger. “And it was not a mistruth as it was a very trying trip. Just this morning, on the last leg of our journey, the axle broke on the carriage.”

  “Oh, Papa.” Worry pulled at my brow. “How fortunate you did not get injured.”

  “Yes.” He stepped near enough to place a welcome kiss on my cheek. “And thankfully we were not far from the posthouse where we’d changed horses. The postmaster recommended a very capable coach-maker who is already working on the repair. He said he could have the carriage delivered as soon as Tuesday.”

  I attempted a smile, but my lips would not accommodate me.

  “You have had a rough go, haven’t you?” There was discernment in Papa’s eyes.

  “Yes.” I hesitated. “And you should know that Mother told me not to speak with you until her return.”

  “Yes. She told me likewise. But her presence will hinder my explanation—the explanation you deserve after everything you were made to endure because of my folly. Both past and present.”

  “I’ve learned much of it on my own already. And Mother told me of the Setons.” I paused. “And who was accountable for their deaths.”

  He nodded, not a hint of surprise in his expression. “Did she tell you why I complied with her demands? Why we kept Ruth from you?”

  My throat went dry. “No.”

  He moved to the wing-backed chair, gesturing for me to take a seat across from him on the chaise lounge.

  There was hesitation in his features as he leaned forward in the chair, his feet wide and his elbows resting on his knees. “Susan—Ruth’s mother—and I had grown up with the understanding we would one day marry. I had loved her since I was a young boy, though I didn’t recognize it as love until too late. You see, your grandfather had gotten into a bit of a financial scrape, so much so that when your mother came along with her tempting fortune, he asked me to consider her instead of Susan. Fellerton was near ruin and we needed the funds.” Papa leaned back, his expression stern. “I was enchanted by your mother’s beauty, the way she mesmerized me with her flattery. I was too young and too foolish to realize the consequences of my choice, not only for me, but for Susan as well. I broke Susan’s heart and married your mother.

  “After Susan married Mr. Seton, he moved her away to one of his estates just south of London, and for years we did not see one another. Nor did our neighboring families speak. When Susan’s parents died, she inherited everything and convinced her husband to remove their family to Blacksley. Mr. Seton was often away, and, with your mother finding little delight in my company and motherhood, she too would be gone for weeks at a time visiting one of her sisters.”

  I nodded, all too aware of Mother’s neglect those first dozen years or so of my life.

  Papa set his gaze on his folded hands. “It was during this time that Susan and I became reacquainted. It might have been wrong, but we were lonely … and you and Ruth took to each other instantly. We used to picnic—”

  “Out by the stream.” I offered Papa a sad smile. “I remember.”

  “Yes, I suppose you would.” He glanced toward the vacant hearth. “For years we managed to maintain our … friendship. But then one day, her husband happened upon us locked in an embrace on his way home to Blacksley. We didn’t see each other often after that, and it broke us both, but especially her.” Papa’s jaw clenched, and his hands tightened into fists. “The fiend treated her terribly ill, and year by year the life slowly faded from her. I wanted to intervene, but I never did.” Papa lowered his head, lifting his hand to cover his eyes.

  I stood and walked to his side, kneeling at his feet.

  His shoulders heaved forward with a sob. “I should have done something.” His words were hardly understandable. “I could have saved her.”

  I took his hand in mine, my desire to comfort him stronger than all my uncertainty. “You cannot allow yourself to carry the blame for others’ choices.”

  “Then let me at least carry the blame for going back on my word, for keeping Ruth from you.”

  I swallowed, my fingers tightening around his hand. “What was your reasoning for doing so?”

  “Susan wrote to me the day she died, having discovered I would not be at home so I could not stop her. In the letter she explained her intentions. Her reasons. And then …” He blew out a shaky exhale. “She asked me to care for Ruth once she was gone.”

  I stiffened. “Mrs. Seton asked you to be Ruth’s guardian?”

  “I’m not exactly certain what she meant by her request.” He sniffed and lifted his reddened eyes to mine. “But no, not even I took it as that. Another guardian had been named for Ruth in Mr. Seton’s will, a relative of his, I believe. And when they declined, Mr. and Mrs. Brundage gladly claimed their right, being next of kin.

  “But I intended to play my part and ensure Ruth was given everything her mother wanted, including maintaining the friendship between the two of you. Your mother was wholly set against it. She believed any continued interaction with Ruth would make people question my reasoning, make them wonder if Ruth was my illegitimate child or if I’d had a role in the Setons’ deaths. She also mentioned your attachment to Augustus and how, if we allowed it to continue, it would ruin your future prospects. It was all preposterous really, and I told her so. I stated she had always loathed Susan, and therefore loathed Ruth and Augustus also. She did not deny it.”

  Papa glanced at the window. “Her chance came to undermine my intentions when the Coroner’s Court ruled the killings a murder and self-murder at Mr. Seton’s hand. They had found no evidence of an outside perpetrator and, because of his past dealings with his wife, it was assumed he had killed her himself. Your mother and I were the only ones who knew the truth.”

  “And you did not want the authorities to know it?”

  Papa’s countenance grew severe. “Do you know what they do to a person who has committed self-destruction? What they did to Mr. Seton thinking he had carried out the act?”

  I gave a timid shake of my head, not certain I wished to know.

  “Such people are not given a proper burial. Instead they are taken at midnight to a crossroads, where the evil spirit will be diffused in fo
ur directions.” He winced. “And before they are buried, a stake is driven through their heart to prevent their ghost from walking.”

  A small gasp escaped me, and I released his hand to cover my mouth.

  “Your mother said that if I did not agree to her demands, she would give the authorities the letter which she had managed to seize without my knowledge. That my beloved Susan would be defiled even in death.” Tears welled in Papa’s eyes, but they did not fall this time. “I could not bear it, Arabella. Such a cruel fate was befitting of a man like Mr. Seton, but not his gentle, kindhearted wife.”

  I rested my head on Papa’s knees, and his hand moved to my back. We did not move for some time, nor did we speak. In the silence, my mind churned over what I had been told, my heart softening. Though I could not completely pardon the choices he’d made, I could now understand them. Everything Papa had done was because of his love for Ruth’s mother.

  Papa cleared his throat, and I lifted my gaze to his. “That is the wrong I meant to right. When I saw Ruth that evening at the ball, it was as though I saw Susan. And when you mentioned how different she would have been if her mother had been alive, I knew I had failed them both. And I had failed you.

  “I admit that my plan to get you to Fairhaven was not very well thought through, especially the bit about falsifying an invitation from the Leavitts. But I could not tell you the truth and risk your mother finding out, nor was I certain you would agree to the arrangement if it was not forced upon you.” Papa pressed his lips together. “I was all too aware of the hurt you endured thinking Ruth and Augustus had forgotten you all those years ago—a hurt you needed to understand had not come from them.”

  “You could have explained it in the letter you sent with Leah.”

  “I tried to pen an explanation several times. But in the end, I took the coward’s way out and trusted you would discover the necessary truths on your own.” His expression softened, and he cupped my face in his hand. “If I could have foreseen the complications that arose, I would not have sent you to Fairhaven.”

  “No, Papa. I would not have missed Fairhaven for anything. My time there was the happiest I’ve been since Ruth and Augustus left.”

  Papa tilted his head to the side, studying my face. “You love him, don’t you?”

  Ever so slowly, I nodded. “I do love him. But it cannot matter. Mother has threatened to tell Ruth of her mother’s role in the deaths if I do not marry Lord Thorton.” I glanced down. “Besides, Augustus would not have me.”

  “Did he tell you that?”

  I rose to my feet, moving to the window. “I saw it in his eyes, Papa. He finally realized what kind of woman I have become.”

  “And what kind of woman is that?”

  My chin trembled. “One just like Mother.”

  Papa moved up behind me and lightly rested his hands on my shoulders, following my gaze to the garden below. “You are nothing like your mother, despite her attempts to make you so. You are thoughtful, and kind, and good.”

  Tears blurred the bright colors of the summer afternoon. “No. I have fooled you as I have fooled everyone.”

  “How have you fooled us?”

  “I have been catty and judgmental. I have fed my vanity and my pride, and I have treated others abominably. I have lied, Papa. Too many times to count. And worst of all, I have hurt Ruth and I have hurt Augustus.”

  “So, you have done these things.”

  I nodded.

  “Have done is different than are doing, Arabella. And realizing our mistakes is the only way forward. If you don’t want to be the person you are, choose to be the person you wish to become.”

  A tear slipped down my cheek. “I have done too much, hurt too many.”

  “People are not the sum of all their wrongs. They must also be willing to take into account all their rights. And if the sides are not equitably proportioned, make them so. At least that is what I am trying to do.” Papa’s hands moved down my arms before dropping to his side. “And if I had to wager a guess, I would say Mr. Brundage would be likely to see it the same way.”

  A warm sensation buzzed in my chest as the image of who I yearned to be clarified in my mind. I wanted to be carefree, like the girl I once was. I wanted to be a lady who laughed readily and smiled easily. A lady who trusted and hoped and was kind. And mostly I wanted to be someone who loved and was loved in return. My heart nearly burst at the simple freedom Papa had handed me. I had a choice, and I would choose to be— I froze. “I can’t choose who to be, Papa.” I turned to him, despair supplanting all hope. “Mother will tell Ruth about Mrs. Seton’s death. She could not bear it, and I will not ruin her happiness for mine.”

  Papa’s eyes twinkled. “That is the other reason why I came to speak with you. When Mother wrote to me of my unpardonable meddling and the consequences of it—your troublesome affections being placed on someone other than Lord Thorton—I made a decision that I will not let you suffer as I have because of her demands.” He reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out a letter, handing it to me. “You must keep this.”

  I looked down at it. “What is it?”

  “The letter from Susan.”

  My gaze shot to Papa’s. “You want me to take it?”

  “I did not go through such a painstaking endeavor of retrieving it simply to read it myself.” His jest was null on me, and his weak grin fell. “It should be in the possession of Ruth’s rightful guardians, the Brundages, and they must decide how to move forward with the knowledge.”

  My eyes settled on the missive, again amazed that such a small thing could so fully alter so many lives. I took hold of it, handling it with care. “But Mother can still tell Ruth what she knows.”

  “Yes. She can. But she no longer holds the strongest cards, for I am calling her bluff and quitting her game.”

  I quirked a brow.

  “Do you know the highest punishment for withholding evidence here in England?”

  My entire body went weak from the realization. “Death … by hanging.”

  “Precisely. And my guess is that Mother will be as eager to avoid the noose as I am.”

  My face blanched.

  “Do not worry, Bella.” Papa patted my arm, his hand tarrying a moment. “It is not likely we would be prosecuted, seeing as it would require the Crown to reinstate the majority of Ruth’s inheritance. And even if we were charged, the consequence would likely not be severe. For what incentive have they to condemn a loyal peer, or his wife, harshly?” He paused, a slight lift at the corners of his mouth. “But your mother does not know that. Nor will she tempt fate by threatening the people who hold such a powerful card in their hand. Ruth should be safe.”

  “I understand what you are suggesting, but there were too many likelys in your explanation. Any possibility for prosecution is too much.” I held out the letter to him. “You must keep this.”

  Papa’s expression grew solemn. “Just like you, I’m ready to change. I’m ready to amend the wrongs I have committed.” He paused, his gaze dropping to the missive. “The Brundages deserve to know what is contained on that paper. They deserve the protection it could provide Ruth. And if, after thinking on it, Mr. Brundage decides to bring the matter to court, I will testify to the letter’s authenticity, no matter the outcome.”

  It seemed a foolhardy decision, yet I understood it. I would do anything to right the wrongs I had caused Ruth. The Brundages. Augustus. I pulled the letter to my chest protectively. “Thank you, Papa.”

  He released an exhale and took a step back. “Now, I told Lord Thorton just this morning that I will consent for you to marry any man you love.”

  I did not move, teetering between shock and joy.

  “Let me rephrase that. Unless you truly desire to marry Lord Thorton, you’d best be off.”

  Needing no further prompting, I lifted onto my toes to place a kiss upon Papa’s cheek. “Thank you,” I squealed, glancing around the room and considering how best to proceed. I wasn’t
certain how long I had before Mother’s return, and I wondered if we could get my trunks packed and on the carriage before— My shoulders dropped under the weight of the realization, and I looked at Papa. “We have no coach.”

  Papa smiled. “We have horses and Mother’s side saddle. She likely will not miss it until tomorrow morning.”

  My hands and legs tingled at the very thought of climbing atop such a large creature after years of refusing to ride. “Very well. But I shall need to go now before I change my mind.”

  Papa laughed. “Tell our groomsman to accompany you. I should join you myself, but I must be here to deal with your mother and the social mayhem your sudden absence will surely cause.”

  “Thank you, Papa.” I placed the letter in my reticule and opened the door, sending him one last smile.

  “Where in heaven’s name are you going in such a state?” My head whipped around to find Mother stepping into the doorway, her look of disgust lingering on my dampened, loose-hanging hair.

  I opened my mouth but no words came out.

  “What are you hiding?” She pushed past me and her eyes landed on Papa. “What is this? Did I not specifically tell you both to wait to speak until I returned?”

  I took several steps backward.

  “I believe you did,” Papa said, his voice emotionless. “But I wished to see Arabella before her departure.”

  Mother’s gaze narrowed. “Departure?”

  Papa moved to my side, placing himself between Mother and me in an undeniable display of protection. “She is leaving Branbury without delay.”

  Mother’s glower did not veer from Papa. “She is going nowhere.”

  Papa looked at me. “What say you to that, Arabella?”

  “I am leaving.” My voice was weak at first, but Papa gave an encouraging nod, and I gathered my courage. “I will not marry Lord Thorton.”

  Disbelief touched Mother’s features. “You certainly will. I will not allow you to ruin this family’s reputation, not after all the work I’ve done to right your wrongs. Besides,” she said, one corner of her mouth lifting ever so slightly, “have you already forgotten what I have in my possession?”