How glad I am to hear that you are back where you belong – at Crownley Hall. I have long been concerned for the welfare of your mother since her most recent marriage and we have much to discuss.
Pray be at my office this afternoon at 2.30pm at the National Bank in Stockington.
Yours truly,
Hubert Longridge.”
‘At last, I will be able to find out what was so important that Papa hid a letter in his desk for me,’ she thought, as she made her way downstairs.
Her heart was so much lighter as she ran towards the stables – both in anticipation of seeing the horses, but also because she felt that at last, she had found a way to safeguard her and her mother’s interests.
As she approached the stables, she could hear an unfamiliar voice talking to Charles, the groom. Rounding the corner, she saw that it was the handsome man who had brought back her bag.
“Sir Edward,” she said, somewhat icily, “what brings you to Crownley Hall? There are no more horses to be found for sale here – you have already bought our best.”
Sir Edward bowed with a mischievous smile playing about his lips,
“Lady Novella, how delightful to see you.”
The way he said it made Novella blush. There was something in his tone that made her feel awkward and nervous.
“My stepfather is out so I am afraid that you have made a wasted journey,” she replied, tartly.
“I have come to collect a few saddles that Lord Buckton promised me. I was not able to take them with me the last time we met as I was on horseback and not in my carriage.”
Novella could not resist it, but there was one question she longed to ask him,
“How is Salamander?”
Sir Edward laughed merrily, his eyes twinkling,
“He is settling in very well, Lady Novella. You must come very soon and see for yourself. I am sure that he misses you as much as you do him. I should be glad to show you around my house – it is not as grand as Crownley Hall, but you will find it most comfortable.”
Novella was bursting to reply in the affirmative, but she held back. She had been wrong-footed by Sir Edward’s charm and friendliness, but all her frostiness was dissolving in the face of his brilliant smile.
“Thank you very much, I should enjoy that.”
“Shall we say, Wednesday?” asked Sir Edward eagerly.
Novella had the distinct feeling that he had an ulterior motive in inviting her to his home, but she did not care to ponder it too closely.
“I shall have to consult my diary – if I could write and let you know?” she answered, almost unable to conceal her joy at the prospect of riding her beloved Salamander once again.
Sir Edward bowed and gave her another charming smile.
To her consternation, Novella was feeling increasingly disarmed by him.
But just then, Charles came struggling out of the stable bearing her best saddle.
“That be the last one, Sir Edward,” he puffed, as he heaved the heavily tooled piece into the box on the rear of the carriage.
Novella did not say a word, but she could feel tears pricking at her eyes.
‘And to think I believed him to be a decent man! He is full of nothing but fine words laced with the poison of deceit.’
She did not stop to say goodbye, but ran back towards the house.
“Lady Novella. Wait!” cried Sir Edward, obviously having seen her expression, “it is not as it appears – ”
But his words were lost to her as she vanished out of sight.
*
Although Novella had already been in to see her mother more than once that morning, she paid her another visit after she had recovered from her encounter with Sir Edward.
Novella found her still weak and, if anything, set back by the previous night’s sortie to the dining room.
“Mama, it was foolish of you to attempt to get up when you are not quite better,” admonished Novella, as she gave her a drink of lemon-barley water.
“I do not wish to be any bother, Novella, dear. You must try to go about your normal routine without worrying about me.”
“But I do, Mama. Come what may, we will send for Doctor van Haydn at once.”
“But your stepfather – ”
“Ssh, no more. Try and sleep. I shall return after luncheon. I have an appointment in Stockington this afternoon.”
Novella kissed her mother, trying not to show how worried she was. The Countess was deathly pale and drawn and seemed to be having difficulty in breathing.
Novella took luncheon in her room and then made herself ready for her appointment.
‘I do hope that Lord Buckton has taken his horse,’ she thought, as she walked towards the stables. For such an important visit, only the family carriage would do.
“Sorry, my Lady, Lord Buckton took the carriage this mornin’,” explained Charles, as Novella sighed in exasperation. “You will have to take the buggy.”
“I shall look like the poor relation instead of the daughter of an Earl!” she cried.
“Can’t be helped, my Lady, but look, I gave Folly a right good going over and she looks a treat.”
Ned brought Folly out, snorting and whinnying excitedly.
“See, my Lady, she’s excited at seeing you.”
‘And I long to see Salamander,’ thought Novella, casting her mind back to their visitor that morning. Even though she was still outraged that Sir Edward had bought her best saddle, her desire to see her beloved horse was stronger.
‘I will write to him and accept his kind invitation,’ determined Novella, as she climbed up onto the buggy. ‘I shall have to swallow my distaste for the circumstances – I will do almost anything to mount Salamander again.’
It did not take Novella long before she was pulling into Stockington. But to her dismay, she could only progress very slowly as it was market day.
By the time she reached the bank, she was almost twenty minutes late. Novella quickly tied Folly up to the post and ran inside.
She need not have worried. Mr. Longridge welcomed her into his office with a beaming smile.
He was a small, round man with a friendly face and was in the habit of wearing brightly coloured waistcoats.
“I am so sorry that I am late,” apologised Novella, quite red in the face – she hated not being punctual as she felt that lateness was the height of bad manners.
“Come, come, my dear, you are here and that is all that matters. Would you care for some tea? I can ask Thomas to bring some in.”
“Thank you,” replied Novella, sinking down in the chair that Mr. Longridge had offered her.
“My dear, I cannot tell you how glad I am that you have come at last. I have waited too long for this day to dawn – too long!”
At that moment, there was a knock on the door and Thomas came in with two cups of tea.
“Leave us now and do not disturb us please.”
Mr. Longridge shut the door behind his assistant and then squeezed behind his desk. Taking down a fat file from the shelf, he brushed it off before opening it.
“Now my dear, to business,” he started. “We have much to discuss, Lady Novella. Much – your dear father was quite specific, quite specific. My Lady, you are about to become very rich indeed, but there are certain conditions – ”
CHAPTER FIVE
Mr. Hubert Longridge listened to Novella as she told him all that had occurred at Crownley Hall since her return. He nodded and made sympathetic noises, occasionally shaking his head in disbelief at what she was recounting.
“I must confess,” he said, smoothing out a document that he had taken from the file in front of him, “I had no clue where your father had hidden his letter to you. I was forced to simply wait until such time as you contacted me. Had you not been in touch – then, my dear, I do not know what I should have done.”
“Until I found the letter, I had no idea that Papa had made extra provision for us. Sadly, my stepfather seems intent on draining Mama’s coffers
dry. To tell the truth, I live in fear of what might happen to us and Crownley Hall should he have his way.”
Mr. Longridge rustled the papers again and coughed,
“Which is precisely why your father put in place these unusual arrangements. We often used to sit and discuss what might happen after his death and his worst fear was that the Hall would fall into another’s hands and be sold off. From what you have told me, I have every reason to suspect that your stepfather does not have the best interests of the estate at heart.”
“The place is in a terrible state of repair,” explained Novella. “Did you know that there had been a fire in the West wing and that the Tower had been struck by lightning? So, while the house falls down around our ears, Lord Buckton’s only concern appears to be that the family carriage is not smart enough for his jaunts to London. Crownley Hall is not a priority for him in the least.”
“Such an attitude was just what your father was afraid of. He was realistic about your Mama – he knew that she would be lost without a male presence in her life and he guessed that she might remarry, should she outlive him. The Earl trusted you very much, Novella, he knew that you loved the house and the horses as much as he did.”
“Sadly, it is too late for the horses – all, except the old ones have been sold,” sighed Novella with a heavy heart. “Lord Buckton was good enough not to sell Mama’s mount, Bluebell, and another cross-bred mare called Folly, but the rest, including my Salamander, have gone to Sir Edward Moreton.”
“Hmm, yes, I am acquainted with that gentleman. A very fine, upstanding young man he is too. You should have no worries about their welfare, they will be treated better than some humans.”
Mr. Longridge attempted a smile, but upon seeing Novella’s wan face, full of misery, he swiftly moved on to the business in hand.
“Now,” he continued, “the Earl was very specific in this codicil to his main will. It says that in the event of your mother remarrying, or you marrying for the first time, then under no circumstances will either spouse, or subsequent spouses, be able to claim any rights to their wives’ estates or the separate fund.”
“So am I to understand that there is yet more money for us?”
“That is correct. A substantial amount it is too. It should be more than enough to take care of the repairs to Crownley Hall that you mentioned and to keep you both very comfortable for a number of years. Your father knew that upon his death, such would be the wealth that you and your mother would inherit, that it would make you both very attractive to certain unsavoury elements. He wished to protect you both and the Hall. Listen to this paragraph – ”
And with that, he began to read the long letter that accompanied the will. As he read, Novella’s eyes filled with tears and she could not prevent herself from weeping.
‘It is like having Papa in the room,’ she said to herself, dabbing at her eyes.
As Mr. Longridge finished reading, Novella composed herself – there were so many questions she longed to ask.
“You said that there was one important condition upon which this will rests, Mr. Longridge. Pray, what might that be?”
“It is simple,” replied Mr. Longridge, sitting back in his chair, “the only stipulation is that the Hall should never be sold during your lifetimes as if you did so, it would immediately nullify the will and your funds would become inaccessible.”
“So, am I able to spend the money on a specialist for Mama?”
“Is she unwell?” enquired Mr. Longridge, a look of concern on his rounded features.
“I am afraid so. Doctor Jones could not say what ailed her, but advised that we should engage the services of a specialist from London. Needless to say, my stepfather forbade the expense.”
“Outrageous!” exclaimed Mr. Longridge. “What kind of man refuses his wife the very best when she is ill?”
Novella tactfully did not comment. However, there was more one question she desperately needed to ask,
“And would the will allow me to buy back our horses, should Sir Edward be persuaded to part with them?”
“Naturally. Your father was not so draconian that he laid down strict rules about what you could and could not spend the money on. His only wish was that the Hall did not suffer. You must proceed with whatever plans you have for the Hall and for yourself. A nice, long holiday for you and the Countess once she has recovered, perhaps?”
Novella shook her head.
“I am not confident of a full recovery, Mr. Longridge. Mama has never been strong and I fear the worst. But it is good news that I will have the money to repair the Hall – I shall engage some workmen immediately as we need to have the works finished before the winter sets in.”
“That is wise, indeed. The weather will do its worst if you allow things to remain as they are and then it will cost you three times as much.”
Mr. Longridge rose and replaced the file on the shelf.
“I am at your disposal whenever you need me, my Lady. Please remember that. You now have no need to worry as your stepfather cannot get his hands on any of your money, that is, unless you choose to give it to him.”
“Mama may well do so, Mr. Longridge, so I fear I may indulge in a little underhand deception until such time as I judge her to be free of Lord Buckton’s influence.”
“That day may not come, if what you have told me is true,” he replied, before adding – “oh, and there is one other matter – there is one other person who knows about this part of your father’s will – Mr. Humbert Senior of Rumbold and Humbert, the family’s solicitors. Should you find yourself in any difficulties, you must ask for him and not his son or his partner.”
“Thank you, I have taken up enough of your time already. I have lots of calls to make on my way back home.”
“The stonemason and the builder, perhaps?”
“Precisely,” agreed Novella, suddenly feeling rejuvenated at the prospect. “Thank you so very much, Mr. Longridge. I was beginning to feel quite alone but now I believe I have an ally at last.”
“Remember, Lady Novella, your father was a dear friend of mine as well as a customer and it is no lie when I say that I extend the same compliment to you. You are not alone, my dear, not alone!”
Before she concluded her business, Novella requested that some money be withdrawn at once so that she could begin to renovate the Hall.
She also asked Mr. Longridge to send a messenger round with a five-pound note for Sally. Novella knew that if she tried to give it to her herself, she would only refuse to take it.
Novella left the bank feeling considerably happier than when she entered.
‘I feel as if a load has been lifted from my shoulders,’ she said to herself, as she stroked Folly’s silky mane. ‘First, we shall visit the stonemasons and then Gross, the family builders.’
*
It was past teatime when Novella eventually returned to Crownley Hall. As she pulled into the stables, she could see that the family carriage was back.
‘That means that my stepfather is also at home,’ she concluded, ‘well, I have nothing to fear. He can say what he will, but words will not harm me.’
Knowing that she was protected financially gave Novella a new courage. She would stand up to her stepfather – she would!
Novella had barely set one foot inside the hallway when Lily, the maid, came rushing up to her.
“My Lady, Lord Buckton wishes to see you in the drawing room.”
“Very well, I will proceed there at once,” accepted Novella, anxious to have any ugly scenes over with as soon as possible.
“And where might you have been all afternoon, young lady?” he roared, as soon as she entered the room. It was obvious that Lord Buckton was in a foul humour.
“I had some business in Stockington,” she replied coolly.
“And what might that be?” he spat.
Novella thought that she could smell drink on him, but even so, it did not cower her.
“What I was doing there is my busines
s and mine alone.”
“Not while you live under my roof.”
“Sir, it is not your roof. The Hall belongs to Mama and me.”
Lord Buckton hurtled towards her, but stopped short.
“I am your mother’s husband and so, by default, it belongs to me. I repeat, what was your business?”
Novella steeled herself inwardly and then, with one eye on the door, replied,
“Sir, I repeat too that I am not answerable to you. You are not my father. Now, if you will excuse me, I am dishevelled from travelling in that open buggy and wish to change.”
And with that, she stalked out of the room. Behind her, she could hear her stepfather’s exhortations for her to return, but she bravely continued on her way up to her mother’s room.
‘I do hope Mama is awake,’ thought Novella, ‘I would doubt that Lord Buckton has been in to see her at all today.’
Opening the bedroom door, she could smell Mrs. Armitage’s embrocation – the pungent scents of eucalyptus and camphor hung heavily in the air. Mrs. Armitage was seated next to the bed knitting.
“My Lady,” she whispered, as Novella tiptoed inside, “she has only just gone to sleep, forgive me if I do not wake her.”
“How is she?”
“Coughing terribly, my Lady.”
“I shall write to Doctor von Haydn in the morning and see if he can come out to see Mama,” stated Novella. “I shall also make enquiries about engaging the services of a nurse. You have done very well but I am certain that you have other duties that you need to catch up with.”
“Well, I’m not sure what Lord Buckton will have to say about all that. It will cost a pretty penny. But you are very right, my Lady, that lazy girl Lily needs a good broom behind her. And I cannot do it being up here half the day. I did not bargain for nursing when I came to work at Crownley Hall. I am a housekeeper, not a nursemaid.”
Rising from her chair, Mrs. Armitage left the room.
Novella sat next to her mother and watched her laboured breathing. It was heart-rending to see her so ill.
“Oh, Mama,” she whispered, “please do your best to get well soon. I promise I will get all the help I can and it has been made possible by my own dear Papa. I found a letter in his desk, telling us that there was more money. But we must keep it a secret from everyone.”
Love Is the Reason For Living Page 6