‘Your English law, Dick!’ They had reached the house. ‘Come and meet Mercy.’
One of the servants must have seen them walking up the drive together. A boy was ready to take the horse, and the staff were drawn up in the hall to greet Dick with loving respect. Watching him enquire after the butler’s gout and the cook’s granddaughter, Hart knew all over again that there was no way in the world he could ever shoot at him. Well, he and Mercy would have the few days it would take him to get their special licence.
Mercy herself appeared at the head of the stairs. ‘Hart, where have you been?’ She saw Dick. ‘Oh, you must be—’
‘Dick Purchas, and most entirely at your service, ma’am. I only got your message last night, or I would have been here sooner, but I am glad to find you in better company than mine.’
‘Thank you.’ She looked from one of them to the other, suddenly hopeful.
‘No.’ Hart read her thoughts. ‘It has to be, Mercy. But Dick, God bless him, is going back to London to get us our special licence, so we can be married before …’
‘You have to?’ Seeing them together, so obviously friends, it seemed incredible to her that they should still be intending to fight each other. I will never understand men, she thought, and their absurd point of honour. ‘Please’ – she looked from one of them to the other – ‘say nothing about it in front of Ruth. I haven’t told her. She has had enough to bear. She feels that Hart and I are all her family now. Well, we are …’
‘Ruth?’ asked Dick.
‘Here she is.’ Mercy turned to look up at Ruth, who had appeared at the head of the staircase. ‘Ruth, dear, here is Mr. Purchas, ridden from London. Mr. Purchas, our cousin Ruth Paston.’
‘Mr. Purchas!’ Ruth had put on her one white dress this morning in Hart’s honour but had not troubled to put up her fair hair, which tumbled in curls round her face. She held out her hand and came drifting down the stairs towards them. ‘Oh, I am so happy to meet you. Your housekeeper has been telling me such things about you! It is no wonder this is such a happy house.’
‘Happy?’ He took her small hand in both of his and gazed down at her for a long moment. ‘You feel it so?’
‘Yes. Do not you? From the first moment we got here, Mercy and I. I have felt – oh, safe, I think. As if I had been here before.’ She smiled up at him. ‘You will think me ridiculous, Mr. Purchas.’
‘I shall do nothing of the kind.’ He wrenched his gaze away from her with an effort. ‘But why are we standing here in the hall? I am sure Mrs. Soames has something ready for us to eat by now. I did not stay for breakfast at Reigate.’ A smile for Mercy. ‘I did not know then that you were in such good company.’ He offered his arm to Ruth. ‘Let us see what Mrs. Soames has for us?’
She smiled at him. ‘Devilled kidneys, of course. Your favourite breakfast. And coffee, not ale, because you are not a drinking man.’ And then, blushing crimson: ‘Forgive me! We have made such friends, Mrs. Soames and I!’
‘I can see you have made a conquest of her.’ He took her arm to lead her into the breakfast room, and Mercy, following with Hart, felt rather than saw the electric current that ran sudden and strong between them.
‘I like your friend Dick.’ She hung back a little to speak to Hart. And then: ‘Oh, Hart, must you two fight?’
‘My darling, you know we must. So come to breakfast, love, and smile.’
Finishing his last cup of coffee, Dick announced that he had business with Glubb, the bailiff. ‘There is much to be settled since poor George’s death, but I hope to be able to finish today and start back to London tonight.’
‘So soon?’ said Ruth, and blushed.
‘The sooner I go, the sooner I will be back. Believe me, I’ll not stay away a moment longer than I must.’ He turned to Hart. ‘I shall enjoy presenting old Pym with the special licence. In fact, I think I will call in on him on my way over to Glubb’s house and warn him to be ready to perform the ceremony early next week.’
‘Thank you,’ said Hart, knowledge of the reason for this haste heavy between the three who shared it.
‘A wedding!’ exclaimed Ruth. ‘I’ve not been to one since’ – her face clouded – ‘since Naomi’s.’
Alone with Hart in their room, Mercy went straight into his arms. ‘Did you see?’ she asked. ‘Your friend Dick and my dear Ruth? Love at first sight if ever I saw it.’ She shivered and looked up at Hart. ‘Nothing must happen to Dick,’ she said. ‘Ruth’s been through so much.’
‘I know.’ His kiss was a promise. ‘Nothing will.’
‘But you! Hart, I can’t bear it.’
‘We must. But I don’t think Dick will fire to kill. A wound would satisfy honour. Mercy, don’t look like that.’
‘It seems too hard,’ she said. ‘To have found you at last, and now this!’
He kissed her again instead of trying to answer. ‘Now we must go down, my darling, and talk about wedding finery with Ruth, or she will begin to suspect something.’
They found that Ruth had been in conference with her new friend Mrs. Soames and was purring with delight over the result, a great bolt of the finest white India silk, which Mrs. Soames had had laid by for a daughter. ‘Something happened to the girl, I am afraid,’ said Ruth. ‘Something to do with George Purchas. Mrs. Soames wants you to have it, Mercy, and I am going to make you a dress of it. This time your wedding is going to be done handsomely if I have any say in the matter.’
‘Which I can see you intend to.’ Mercy tried to match her happy tone, wondering how in the world they would be able to keep their wretched secret for the days Dick Purchas was away.
Luckily Ruth was happily occupied all morning with a set of fashion plates belonging to Julia that Mrs. Soames had found for her, and Mercy had only to pay a surface attention to her eager discussion of what a bride would wear for a quiet village wedding which also happened to be her second one to the same man.
Mrs. Soames had just appeared to suggest a cold luncheon and add her quota of informed advice when Dick strode into the morning room through the windows that opened onto the terrace.
‘What’s the matter?’ Ruth jumped up. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Nothing.’ But his face was very white and his jaw set. ‘Hart, come into the study, would you? Glubb has just told me something … something I have to tell you.’
‘Yes?’ Hart rose and went with him. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘I’m so ashamed,’ said Dick. ‘I – I don’t know how to tell you, Hart, but at least’ – he managed a travesty of a smile – ‘I have the comfort of knowing you will believe me when I tell you this is the first I have known about it.’
‘About what?’
‘My great-aunt Julia,’ said Dick. ‘A very rich old lady and a very obstinate one. I swear to you, Hart, that’s all I knew about her until Glubb let the secret out today. He thought I knew, of course. Well, as the heir, since George’s death, I should have. I never did like Busby. Well … I was right. Of all the dirty games! And Julia … Up to the neck in it. God, Hart, what an escape you have had. Julia! My sister. I was so glad to see her, as I thought, head over ears in love with you. Someone worthy of her at last. And all the time it was only the money!’
‘Money?’ asked Hart. ‘What money? Take me with you, Dick.’
‘Great-aunt Julia’s estate. She was a Miss Purchis of Harting. Cousin both to your grandfather and to mine. Flirted with both of them and died an old maid back in “69. I think she must have really loved your grandfather, for it seems she left a most extraordinary will. All her money in trust for any member of the American branch of the family who should return to England and claim it. I cannot imagine how any lawyer came to write such a nonsensical will, but I believe she was quite a Tartar in her day. And of course, it did mean that the claimant must be on good terms with the family over here, or he’d not know about the will. No one was to be in the secret but the head of the English Family and his heir.’
‘But Julia knew?�
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‘I’m afraid so. She and George were very thick, you know.’
‘You mean’ – Hart was working it out – ‘she intended to marry me and then tell me about the will? Good God, no need to look so unhappy, man! Don’t you see what a weight you have taken off my mind! I have felt so wretched about Julia and so puzzled. I knew in my bones that she did not love me. More shame to me, you might say. Now, at last, I understand. As to the estate, naturally I won’t touch it. I have no shadow of a claim. I can hardly be said to have come here voluntarily!’
‘The will says nothing about that. You can imagine how Busby looked into that when I brought you home. All you have to do is make your claim.’
‘What happens if I do not?’
‘The estate remains in trust until twenty-five years from the date of Aunt Julia’s death and then reverts to our family. But Glubb tells me that my father and Busby between them hoped to break the will, once they had got you safe out of the country. There seems to be some doubt as to what should happen if a member of the American branch came here and did not make a claim.’
‘Well, now we are going to find out.’
‘No,’ said Dick. ‘I won’t have it. I remember how you looked that day when I visited you in the Tower. What they had done to you. My father had let you believe you would be hanged, drawn, and quartered. The gaoler said something about the way you have been treated. Sorry for it, he said he was, when he saw how angry it made me. I think we have to face it, Hart, that was not Government’s doing, but Piers Blanding’s, acting for my father, for Julia. To wear you down, make you give in and marry her. You can see now, can’t you, why they wanted you out of the country so fast when you finally refused.’ He gave a short, angry bark of laughter. ‘Poor Julia! Do you think she has opened your note to me by now and knows the game is up? I wonder what she will do. As to you, Hart, I am glad to tell you that you have no choice in the matter of the estate. As heir I have already lodged your claim with Glubb and told him to pass it on to Busby.’
‘High-handed.’
‘The least I could do.’
‘Then we’ll share it.’ Hart saw his way clear at last. ‘Better than leaving the estate mouldering in trust or eating it away with a suit in chancery. Half and half, Dick?’ He held out his hand.
‘Generous! But think it over, Hart. Glubb seems to think it a vast sum, but I don’t trust any of them. Well, not now, not after the way Busby has behaved to me.’ He had taken Hart’s hand and pressed it hard. ‘And if you think I am going to fight you over that worthless sister of mine, you’re fair and far off the mark! If I have said anything to offend you, Hart, I apologise.’
‘And so do I. For all the harm I have done you and your family. You must see how happy it will make me if I can make some small amends like this.’
‘Small! You’re a good friend, Hart. The best I’ve ever had. I’ve lain awake for hours, sweating about that duel. But how could I not fight you? I was going to fire to miss, of course. Only – when I met Miss Paston yesterday, it seemed a pity even to imagine dying.’
Hart laughed. ‘I was going to delope. How disappointing it would have been for our seconds.’
‘Yes,’ said Dick soberly. ‘That’s what worried me. I have been racking my brains to think of two men who could be relied on not to try to stir up more trouble or start fighting each other or any nonsense like that. Just the same.’ A new thought struck him. ‘Do you realise that but for that ridiculous duel you would very likely be in France by now, having missed Mercy and lost the chance of great-aunt Julia’s estate?’
‘Dear me, so I should,’ said Hart. ‘Poor Julia, how very nearly she succeeded. Will your father be very angry, do you think?’
‘Not if he gets half the estate,’ said Dick.
‘He’s not going to; you are. But come, I cannot wait another moment to tell Mercy the good news.’
‘And I must start for London before the day is much older. Do you still want that special licence, Hart?’
‘I most certainly do.’
‘Right. Hart Purchis with an i. Any other names?’
‘No. But Mercy is Mercy Juliet Phillips. Her father was a friend of Garrick’s. I wish I could take her to London, just for a visit, but I don’t dare. There is no knowing what risk I run by remaining in England.’
‘I’ll look into that, too. And have a word with my sister.’
‘Don’t, Dick. It’s not worth it.’
‘She’s not worth it,’ said Dick. ‘I’ll take Miss Paston for a walk in the garden. Hart, to give you a chance to tell Mrs. Purchis. Explain to her, please; make her understand how ashamed I am.’
Hart took his hand and held it for a moment. ‘It’s all over. Best forgotten. And, Dick, there is no reason now why Miss Paston should ever know we meant to fight.’
‘It seems quite absurd,’ said Dick. ‘What she would think of me!’
But when he invited Ruth to come and take a turn in the shrubbery with him, he found her quiet and rather pale. She admired the hearty growth of the rare Chinese azaleas he had planted the last time he was at home, but almost absentmindedly, without really looking at them. They were out of sight of the house by now, and she turned to him suddenly, holding out both hands. ‘Mercy told me,’ she said. ‘I made her. I could see something was wrong. About the duel. Mr. Purchas, you can’t! You and Hart! My poor Mercy … I thought I knew …’ She paused, looking down, a flush mounting in her pale cheek. ‘I thought I knew something about love. I knew nothing! Mercy – she lives for Hart, I think. Ever since I first met her, she has thought of nothing but him, of getting back to him. There was a man in America – a man called Brisson – who thought the sun rose and set in her. She never noticed.’ A little laugh. ‘She even thought it was me! Dear Mercy … And now that they are together at last, and happy, to have this happen!’ She looked up at him, her blue eyes slowly filling with tears. ‘Mr. Purchas, I don’t know how to ask you, but please, there must be something you can do. Oh’ – impatiently now – ‘I know I am asking the impossible. Don’t for a moment think I do not. But don’t you see, the moment we met, I felt you were family. Our family. Mercy’s and Hart’s and mine. So I am asking you, as if you were my brother.’ She paled again. ‘My dear brother Mark. To spare Hart? Please?’
She was holding out her small brown hands to him in an eloquent, basic gesture of pleading, and he gathered them up and pressed them to his lips. ‘Not a brother, Ruth. I do hope not a brother! And thank God, there is no need for you to ask. Hart and I are not going to fight after all. He is telling his wife now. I’d not have fired at him anyway.’ He laughed. ‘Nor would he at me. You’ll think us a couple of fools.’
‘Oh, no!’ she said. ‘I just thank God.’ She smiled up at him. ‘And you.’
‘No need for thanks.’ Too soon, absurdly too soon to say more. He took her arm and led her back through the shrubbery, making a good story of Great-aunt Julia’s will. Anything to distract himself from the feel of her arm on his.
‘So Hart and Mercy will be rich?’ she said. ‘I am glad. I wonder if they will stay in England.’
‘I hope they do. And you. What will you do, Miss Paston?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said slowly. ‘Do you know, I have never imagined parting with Mercy. But now she has Hart, it’s all different. She may not want me. They may not want me.’ Her voice shook a little as the truth of it struck home to her.
‘How could they help but want you? If they decide to stay on at the estate Hart has inherited, you’ll be a neighbour, almost. Would you like that, Miss Paston?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘I have taken such a fancy to Mrs. Soames.’
In the house Hart and Mercy had reached the same point. She had cried a little, with sheer relief, when he told her that there was no longer any question of a duel between him and Dick, and then gone straight to the heart of the matter. ‘But this legacy, it will make no difference will it? We are still going home? Back to Savannah?’
‘It will pay my debts here,’ he told her. ‘Which will make a great difference to me. But do you want to come home, Mercy? To the chaos and misery of Georgia at war? Savannah fallen; Charleston fallen. God knows where we will live. There is an estate here, Dick tells me, part of the legacy. In the west of the country. Waiting for us if we want it.’
‘Give it to Dick,’ she said. ‘You said there was money in the Consolidated Funds too? If we used that to pay your debts … Dear Hart, don’t look so wretched! Would there be enough left to start us out, in a small way, perhaps in western Georgia? The British have never really held sway there. We could be free … Be ourselves at last.’
‘There would be quite enough, from what Dick tells me. I think we are going to find ourselves rich, my love, and for the rich, everything is easier. If Dick finds that the terms of my release are absolute – and authentic – I think we could probably go back to Savannah, live in a quiet way in the house there with Abigail, begin to pull things together again. Because there is one thing of which I am certain, now that I have lived here in England: Sooner or later we Americans are going to win this war. The British might have beaten us if they had really put their heart into it, at the start, but you must see as well as I do that they never have. And now we are a nation. There’s no beating us now. And when it’s over, the most important thing will be to heal the wounds of this family quarrel, and who better to set about doing that than you and I, who have found so much to like here in England?’
‘So much to love?’ she asked him, teasing.
‘Witch!’ He pulled her to him for a quick kiss. ‘That’s settled then. We’ll stay to be married, and then, however dangerously, it’s home to Savannah.’
‘Home to Savannah! Oh, my darling, yes,’ she said.
Dick returned a few days later, grey-faced with fatigue. ‘I’ve got your licence,’ he told Hart, who had hurried out to greet him. ‘No problem there. Everything made as easy as possible. Orders from the highest possible quarters. Well, no wonder! Your release was drafted back in June, Hart.’
Wide is the Water Page 29