“It is a shame that Morgan Park is not a huge pile like Strancaster,” said Exencour with a glinting smile. “When my mother wishes to avoid an annoying guest, she has only to place him in a distant chamber, where the bell most mysteriously refuses to function. Unable to summon a servant to show him back to the family rooms, the poor wretch may wander about for days, even risking starvation, in search of the remainder of the party.”
“Alas, Morgan Park is too small to perplex even my cousin for more than a minute or two,” answered Letty. “We shall have to resort to plain speaking it seems.”
“Well, Letty, it is best to begin as you mean to go on,” said Isobel. “And if you are to manage for yourself now, Lord Bainstall will have to be put in his place. Although I doubt he will know it when that happens. He seems remarkably thick-witted to me.”
An hour later Bainstall descended from his room. He had changed his travelling clothes for some suitably funereal garments, and looked the picture of a bereaved relative. He found Letitia in the sitting room.
“You must be very weary, Letitia,” he said. “You need not be present for this interview; I will handle it on your behalf. Please lie down and tend to yourself for a little while.”
Letitia straightened her spine, which was indeed beginning to droop from weariness. “Thank you, Cousin, but that is not necessary,” she said in a firm voice. “I must deal with this on my own. You will not always be present for me to call upon, so I mean to take this on myself until James is old enough to assume responsibility. Perhaps if I had taken a greater interest in the estate at an earlier time, I would not be in the desperate case I find myself now.”
“Nonsense,” replied Bainstall. “Although your husband clearly mismanaged Morgan Park, it was his estate to do with as he pleased. No reasonable bailiff will take his commands from a woman, and you will be hard pressed to make him listen to you. Things may very well go from bad to worse.”
“I have known Grieves for years, and I am better acquainted with him than you are,” observed Letitia. “I believe that he will be more forthright with me than he would be with you, a stranger, although you are my cousin.”
“You will be far too indulgent with him,” said Bainstall. “I understand that your late husband had some suspicions that he was stealing money and had him dismissed; this is a matter which must be looked into carefully. It will not do to have the estate not only disrupted by its master's death, but also placed under the care of an unreliable employee.”
“That is exactly why I do not want you present,” Letitia said, her voice rising. “Alfred was attempting to blame Grieves for his own gross neglect of our lands. I need Grieves because someone who knows the history of the estate and the missteps Alfred took is required to correct them. If you were to accuse him of stealing, which is quite untrue, it would simply drive him away.”
“Your sentiments are, of course, admirable in one of your sex, but they are not suitable for business of this nature,” said Bainstall, in what he presumed was a soothing voice. “You will allow him to think that he can have the ordering of the farms. He will need to speak to a man in order to understand that he is answerable to others.”
At this moment Lord Exencour chose to enter the sitting room in search of Lady Morgan. He took in the scene at a glance; Letitia's cheeks were flushed and there was a martial glint in her eye, while Bainstall looked more than ever as though he were about to have an apoplexy. Lord Exencour hastened to play the diplomat.
“How pleasant to find you two here,” he said quietly. “I am sent on an errand by my wife to seek you out, Lady Morgan. I trust I am not intruding?”
“Not at all,” replied Letitia. “My cousin was just recommending to me that I allow him to deal with the bailiff for me, but I, although appreciating his offer, have decided I must deal with the matter myself.”
“I see,” said Lord Exencour. “I am sure that Lord Bainstall will respect your decision, no matter what he thinks of it.” He turned an inquiring eye on the Baron.
That individual looked decidedly annoyed. “It is, of course, Letitia's decision to make,” he responded with ill grace. “I believe that it is a badly thought out plan, however.”
“We all have to make mistakes and learn from them,” said Lord Exencour with the air of a sage. “Lady Morgan will have many more decisions to make in the future. Surely we owe it to her to support her in this time of change.”
“Of course, of course,” said Bainstall testily. “Well, Letitia, it looks as though you will see the bailiff by yourself. But do not say I did not warn you.”
“Thank you, Cousin, for that endorsement,” said Letitia, a touch of irony creeping into her voice. “And now, I must see what it is that Lady Exencour wants. If you will excuse me, gentlemen?”
With a grateful smile for Exencour, she exited the room, leaving the gentlemen alone.
There was a moment of silence, and then Bainstall spoke. “I must say that I do not understand why you are encouraging Letitia in this nonsensical notion of hers that she must do things for herself,” he said. “I plan to assume the burden of caring for her and her children, and she need never have another thought about the matter.”
“Perhaps Lady Morgan would prefer not to be a burden upon you and to take care of her children herself,” volunteered Lord Exencour.
“It is not a woman's place to take care of herself,” said Lord Bainstall. “As the head of the family I am responsible for her and the children. My predecessor was her father; I owe some duty to her as his daughter. If she will simply turn her business matters over to me I believe I can make her comfortable.”
Exencour gave him a pitying look. “You do not know Lady Morgan very well, do you?” he asked.
“I have not seen her for some years,” said Bainstall. “But, although she was indulged by her parents, when she was a girl she was biddable enough. I believe that once she has overcome her grief at Lord Morgan's death she will understand that it would be best if she allowed me to manage her affairs.”
Lord Exencour turned his back to the Baron in order to hide a smile of amusement and poured them both a glass of sherry.
“Let us drink to the happy day,” he said, handing Bainstall a glass. “I am sure Lady Morgan will appreciate your worthiness if you are simply persistent enough.”
An hour or more later Letitia re-entered the sitting room to find Lord Exencour alone, sipping a glass of sherry and surveying the bleak view from the window. He turned as door opened, and hurried forward when he saw the strained look on her face.
“Sit down, Lady Morgan,” he said. “Would you care for some sherry?”
“I believe I would,” said Letitia, her voice rather faint. Lord Exencour procured the liquid for her, and waited some moments as she sipped at it, her eyes fixed on the opposite wall.
“Where is my cousin?” she asked finally.
“He has gone out to inspect some of the farms,” said Lord Exencour. “He wishes to ascertain the productivity of the land.”
Letitia smiled faintly. “How kind of him,” she said. “I know that he means well, but I find his actions meddlesome.”
“He is a difficult person to deal with,” agreed Lord Exencour. “The sincerity of his concern cannot be discounted, but his manner of showing it is overbearing.”
“Exactly,” Letitia agreed. “I am glad he is not here. I have had dreadful news from Grieves, and I do not think I could bear to listen to Bainstall's strictures without becoming very angry.”
“What did Grieves say?” asked Lord Exencour gently.
“For the past five years nothing has been invested in the estate,” said Letitia. “All, all was turned over to Alfred, who spent it no one knows where, though I can certainly make some conjectures. He would not listen to Grieves’ representations that the land was going to ruin; Alfred simply demanded the money and ordered Grieves to be silent. It will be some time before the estate is once again profitable, as there is so much work to be done.”
“I feared this might be the case,” said Lord Exencour. He saw her hand tighten on her glass and made haste to reassure her. “It is not an impossible situation, I assure you. You will have many choices to make, but with careful planning I am sure all can be made right in time.”
“I hope so,” said Letitia. “I am not overly fond of Morgan Park, as too many sad things have happened here, but I would not to wish to see it lost for James.”
“Then it shall not be,” said Lord Exencour. “You will manage somehow, and Isobel and I will do all we can to be of assistance. But now I suggest you attempt to put this out of your mind. The funeral is tomorrow, and afterwards there will be plenty of time to worry. Do go upstairs and rest; I will send Isobel to you.”
Letitia allowed Lord Exencour to relieve her of her glass of sherry and escort her to the stairs. As she slowly walked up them, she reflected that her straits were dire indeed; it would take more than the concern of her friends to help her out of it.
Chapter 3
The next day dawned warmer, but this was not necessarily a blessing, for the snow of the previous day turned to a depressing rain. It seeped into everything, and particularly through the roof of Morgan Park, which had for many years needed repair.
Letitia, the Exencours and Lord Bainstall assembled for the funeral, which was every bit as melancholy as Isobel had feared and Bainstall had hoped it would be. The skies continued to pour forth, and the lowering clouds in the distance lent a threatening aspect to the gloomy occasion. Many members of the local gentry made their appearance, though Isobel suspected they attended more from curiosity than from affection for Lord Morgan.
Letitia had insisted that her daughter, Emily, be allowed to remain in the house, stating firmly that a child of three could not be expected to stand in the rain for a father she had barely known. Her six-year-old son could not be reprieved though, and he now stood solemnly by his mother, watching his father’s coffin being lowered into the earth.
The minister spoke as briefly as he dared, the rain dripping from his nose as he mouthed some pious untruths about Lord Morgan's integrity, kindness, and exceptional qualities as a husband and father. Isobel found it necessary to avoid looking at her husband, as his expression of lugubrious sorrow threatened to throw her into a fit of nervous giggles. She concentrated instead on Letitia, who stood patiently in the wet, her son's hand clasped in her own, her eyes fixed on the coffin as it disappeared into the ground. Those eyes were quite dry, but the rain disguised that fact, and she looked the picture of the sorrowing widow.
“Poor Lady Morgan,” Mrs. Blake was heard to whisper to her husband. “She looks quite destroyed by Lord Morgan's death. Not but what he was far from perfect, but what does a woman do without her husband? I only hope she may find someone willing to take on the mess her affairs are surely in. The sooner she remarries, the better.”
Letitia did not give a sign that she had heard, but reflected bitterly on the comment. She had very little idea of what she would do now. Money had long been a worry of hers, but as long as Alfred had lived, she had had no control over it. Now it had become her duty to be sure that Morgan Park remained intact to be handed on to her son and to provide her daughter with the governesses, clothes, and dowry befitting a person of her rank.
Letitia closed her eyes. The only child of a widowed, doting father, she had not been raised to know anything of her finances; that was a man’s business. Yet her husband had gambled away their wealth, and now she found herself in the position of needing to manage what little was left on her own, or speedily find herself another husband to do so for her. Real tears sprang into her eyes at the thought.
The service ended and the funeral party trailed back to the house. Letitia’s melancholy ponderings were interrupted by the steady flow of visitors paying their respects and proffering good wishes. To her great relief, Isobel approached her and laid a gentle hand on her arm.
“Letty, pray let your cousin, Exencour, and me greet the remainder of your guests. You look terribly fatigued, and no one can blame you if you feel the need to lie down. I do think it would be for the best.”
“Aye, Cousin,” said Bainstall, “I am sure that your grief is quite overwhelming, and doubtless you feel guilt about neglecting your poor husband while he resided on the Continent these past years. Do lie down for some time; the lawyer will be here this afternoon for the reading of the will and you will need to have your wits about you.”
With a grateful smile at Isobel and a quiet nod to her cousin, Letitia fled the drawing room for her chamber. She did not undress, but lay on the bed fully clothed, a shawl about her shoulders. She closed her eyes, but sleep did not find her. Her brain continued in the constant circle it had been caught in for days now; the estate was encumbered, the mortgages must be paid, there was no money, there were immediate debts which Alfred’s death brought to the fore. There seemed to be no end to the tangle. After some time she dozed, and dreamed of debt collectors lined up at her door.
She awoke a few hours later to find Isobel sitting at her bedside.
“Oh, such a dream I was having,” said Letitia.
“Was it pleasant?” asked Isobel.
“Not at all,” said Letitia. “It had to do with money, of course.”
“Letitia, you are not to worry,” said Isobel. “Francis and I will be glad to be of assistance to you.”
“No,” said Letitia. “I cannot allow you and Exencour to continue to pick up the pieces of my life. I am already deeply in your debt in so many ways; you took me in when I fled from Alfred and Exencour was kind enough to frighten him away from England and onto the Continent for some time. I cannot forever be running to you with my problems, and I certainly cannot take your money.”
“Letitia, Exencour and I have more money than we can possibly need,” said Isobel. “Surely you will allow us to--”
“No, I will not,” said Letitia. “You yourself said I must begin as I mean to proceed, and I must now think for myself. I will always need your friendship and advice, but Morgan Park must be preserved for Jamie, and it must be done without incurring further debt.” She paused, and then a smile broke through. “How severe I sound. As though I had any idea at all of how to do that.”
Isobel took her hand and squeezed it. “If you will not take our money, at least Exencour and I can help you with your plans. Something must--shall--be done!”
Buoyed by this positive, if somewhat general, statement, Letitia arose and adjusted her dress. “I suppose we must go down,” she said softly.
“Yes,” said Isobel. “Your lawyer has arrived, and the gentlemen await us.”
Chapter 4
The ladies went downstairs and found the men in the library, standing by the fire and speaking of general topics. Lord Morgan’s lawyer, Mr. Linkwall, was a kindly looking old gentleman, dressed in sober black, his thin hair curling about his scalp. He greeted Letitia warmly, murmuring a few words of condolence. He privately thought the lady to be better off without his client, but knew when the conventions must be observed. Letitia gave him a vague smile and seated herself by the fire.
“I think it would be best to get the reading over with,” proposed Lord Exencour. “Lady Morgan is fatigued by the events of the past few days, and I expect she would like to begin to get her affairs in order.”
Mr. Linkwall assented and gathered his papers as the rest of the party disposed of themselves about the room. The will itself was far from complicated; it had been drawn up shortly after the birth of James, and left all to him, with his mother as guardian. Letitia was left in possession of her jointure and the care of the children.
The reading done, Mr. Linkwall gave Lady Morgan a shrewd glance. “Your jointure is quite generous, my lady,” he said. “Your father was clearly determined that you should not be left wanting if you were widowed. Still, it was intended to support an elderly lady, not a very young woman with small children and encumbered estates. You will be able to live on it comfortably, if you are care
ful, but you will in no wise be able to free the estate of the mortgages, nor will it supply much money for the schooling of your son or the dowry of your daughter. These things should have been provided by the estate, which is clearly impossible.”
Letitia twisted her handkerchief in her hands. “I am aware that my finances will be quite straitened, and that will not be a great difficulty for me, as I am accustomed to it,” she said. “My most urgent concern is the estate; I would hate to see Jamie unable to live on his ancestral lands when he is of age and pass it on to his own heirs.”
“The mortgages on the estate are immense, my lady,” observed Mr. Linkwall. “Your husband did not seem to care for the land except as a source of income, and his father was little better. Your dowry could have served to salvage the estate at the time of your marriage, but I am afraid Lord Morgan chose to put that money to other uses. There is nothing left of it.”
“If I may make a suggestion, I believe it would be best if Lady Morgan gave up the idea of preserving the estate and sold it,” said Lord Bainstall. “To attempt to carry on for years with a woman at the head of Morgan Park, until young James is able to assume his duties, is simply to incur more debt and disintegration. With the money realized from the sale, James could lead a comfortable life, and the title will be retained, of course. Lady Morgan and the children are welcome to live with Lady Bainstall and me; in this way her income can be saved for James’ education and Emily's dowry. My wife is sickly and Lady Morgan could aid her about the house. There is nothing quite so unattractive as a woman living alone when she has male relatives to turn to.”
During this speech Letitia had gradually looked more and more amazed, and Lady Exencour was clearly extremely annoyed. Before her amused husband could stop her, she launched into speech.
“Lord Bainstall, I suggest that you rethink these ideas of yours. You are apparently unaware that I have for many years managed my own estate in the Cotswolds. Lady Morgan, if she chooses, can be an able manager of Morgan Park, as her brain is every bit as capable as yours, if not much more so. As for your suggestion that she live in your home, which was once her father's, as a poor relation, I do not hesitate to tell you that I find the notion so incredible as to be unbelievable.”
An Honest Deception Page 2