'Or never to be told, is that it? Charlotte, your mother's fortune is worth over forty thousand pounds, plus interest which was being reinvested in the funds by your father.'
'Forty thousand?' Charlotte gasped. 'That means I am rich! The interest – surely it was more than she said?'
'Much more,' he agreed. 'I shall expect your stepmother to account to me for how she has dealt with it since your papa died.'
'Then you'll expect for nothing!' Lady Mottesford retorted. 'I've sole control.'
'To use it for Charlotte's advantage,' he pointed out softly. 'I do not think keeping her in rags while you and your daughter deck yourselves in jewels and expensive finery could be called that. I shall make absolutely certain that, out of your own very ample fortune, you repay what you have appropriated.'
'That's slander!' she spluttered. 'I'll sue you, my fine lord, making such insinuations against a poor widow woman!'
'A rich one, my lady, and my lawyers may have different opinions to yours. Charlotte, do you wish to eat or shall we leave at once? I am taking you back to town.'
'You can't do this!' Lady Mottesford wailed, struggling to her feet. 'I'm her guardian!'
'Dicky, you can't mean to leave me like this!' Emma cried out, trying to catch his hand, but he had moved towards the door.
'Oh, please!' Charlotte whispered, clasping Prudence's hand tightly. 'Please, Cousin Richard, take me away!'
'Very well. Are your boxes here or on the other coach?'
'I have just a small valise, the rest of my things are on the other coach,' Charlotte said. 'What shall we do? It was going to take much longer to get to Devon.'
'Your stepmother will have to send the rest back then. Come, we will go and find the valise.'
Charlotte rose to her feet, went towards the door, and then turned back.
'My jewel box,' she said breathlessly. 'I had it with me, and brought it into here for safety. Where is it?'
She saw it on a small side table and with a sigh of relief stepped forward to take it. At the same time Lady Mottesford reached across and picked up the box.
'No, you'll not have them! It's not fitting a chit like you should have control of jewels.'
'It's not really a jewel box,' Charlotte cried, trying to take the box away from her. 'I have a few trinkets, but it's the box Papa gave me, the only thing I have of his! Give it to me!'
She tugged suddenly, and Fifi, excited, leaped up and down and bit Lady Mottesford on her ankle. She kicked out and shouted, and between them they dropped the box, which fell with ominous sounds of rending wood on to the hard boards. Prudence, who had been standing behind Charlotte, stepped forward and bent to retrieve the box while Emma rushed to succour her moaning parent.
'The bottom seems to have come unstuck,' Prudence said. 'It should be possible to repair it, Charlotte. Oh, there's a paper in here. Is it yours?'
'I put no papers there,' Charlotte said, puzzled, taking the box from Prudence. 'Why, look, there's a small compartment underneath the main one, that's where the paper was.'
'Permit me,' Lord Mottesford said, retrieving the paper seconds before Lady Mottesford could reach for it.
'I'll kill that dratted dog! Let me alone, Emma, I'm not dying! As for you, spying on a girl's love letters, it's disgusting!' Lady Mottesford sniffed, and while Charlotte angrily denied this, Lord Mottesford ignored it.
He spread out the thick sheets and carefully read what was written on them, then looked up slowly at Charlotte.
'Your father gave you this box?' he asked.
'Yes, the day before he died. Why, what is the paper?'
'Did you know of this secret compartment?'
'No, I had no notion it was there.'
'What a pity. Here, this is your father's last letter to you. Read it.'
Charlotte complied, and then raised puzzled eyes to her cousin.
'I don't understand. He says he is sorry for not being a good father to me and that he was constrained to make out a will leaving everything that was not entailed to his wife. He secretly made another will, to leave everything to me apart from a small jointure for her. Is it true?'
Lord Mottesford nodded.
'Here is the will, properly phrased although clearly he did it himself. And properly witnessed, by the housekeeper and butler at Trelawn Manor, if my memory of their names serves correctly.'
'It's false, a trick! I didn't! It's my money! I worked hard for it!' Lady Mottesford raved, trying to snatch the will which Lord Mottesford held contemptuously out of reach.
'So, my fine lady, you are unmasked!' he said coldly. 'This will appoints me his executor and Charlotte's guardian. You are to have the dower house for the rest of your life, and sufficient income to maintain it. I suggest you go there at once, and I will visit you in a few days when you are calmer to discuss what is to be done as regards repaying Charlotte what you have misused of her money. I doubt whether you will dare to show your face in London again.'
Lady Mottesford, to the embarrassment of Charlotte and Prudence, dissolved into floods of tears. Hubert glared at her, while Emma patted her hand ineffectually.
'Never mind, Mama. It wasn't your doing if that horrid old man broke his promise to you. And people will not blame you, there is no need for you to hide away in Devon. Dicky is rich even without that money, and when we are married you shall come and stay with me in London.'
She glanced up at Lord Mottesford as she spoke, half coyly, half placatingly, but he gave her no answering smile.
'I think not, Miss Potter. After my marriage I mean to retrench. I intend to close all my houses apart from a small farmhouse in Westmorland where you will live. I shall, of course, need to travel about myself to oversee the estates, but I will doubtless find time to visit you almost every year for a few days. It's a very lonely spot, unfortunately, but you will be at home in the village there. No trips to London, however.'
'What?' Emma gasped incredulously. 'You'd banish me on my own to some dreary farmhouse hundreds of miles away? I don't believe you!'
'I never make idle threats. When we are married that is what your life will have to be. But don't be concerned, there are half a dozen other houses in the village, and a couple of women around your age. Of course, they are uneducated, and there are no books, and certainly no parties, but there is a great deal to do on the farm, baking, brewing, milking, cutting hay for the cattle, and looking after the sheep, especially in winter. You'd never be bored.'
'No, for I have no intention of living such a life!' Emma retorted angrily.
'That is how I say you will live,' he replied calmly. 'It may not be to your liking, but I think if we spend nothing apart from on essentials we may be able to spend a week in Carlisle in a few years. They have quite fashionable assemblies, I am told.'
'You don't understand!' she cried furiously. 'I'll not do it! I'll not marry you! You misled me, I thought you were rich! Not even a title would make up for that sort of life.'
'Well, perhaps it would be best. How fortunate we made no announcement in The Gazette. Now, Mr Clutterbuck, I asked the landlord to put to your horses, so I suggest you escort the ladies on their way. Charlotte, come with me to show me which is your valise. Goodbye, Lady Mottesford, Miss Potter. I will call in a week or so to arrange about repayment of Charlotte's money.'
He swept out of the room, Charlotte's hand firmly held in his, and Prudence heard him outside talking to the postillion. Within the coffee room Lady Mottesford was looking dazed, Emma seemed on the verge of hysterics, and Mr Clutterbuck was muttering threats about getting even one day with a damned chiselling, cheating gallows-cheat.
By the time Lord Mottesford returned, however, they had pulled themselves together enough to collect their belongings and, as he politely held the door open for them, walk with as much dignity as they could muster out to their carriage.
Charlotte watched them go, and then stood looking through the window until the chaise was out of sight. Then she turned to look with some awe a
t Lord Mottesford.
'Cousin Richard, I don't know how to thank you! I think I would have died rather than marry Hubert. And I am rich! I can't believe it! Oh, when is Edward coming back to town.'
'I left word for him to follow us,' Lord Mottesford said soothingly. 'In fact, there is someone arriving now. Yes,' he added after a swift look through the window. 'Charlotte, listen to me, quickly. If you heed my advice don't tell Edward you have a large fortune until after he has offered for you. He's a plaguey touchy fellow, he might think he couldn't marry an heiress. Do you understand?'
Charlotte nodded swiftly, and then turned eagerly to the door as it was flung impetuously open and Edward Gregory marched in.
'Well, what sort of a coil is this?' he demanded, striding across the room to take Charlotte's hand in his. 'Netta was full of bogeymen and wicked witches, I thought you'd all been dragged off to some enchanted forest.'
Laughing and crying, Charlotte tried to explain, until Prudence took pity on her and spoke.
'Lady Mottesford refused your offer because she wanted Charlotte to marry Hubert,' she said crisply. 'They were travelling to Devon in order to force her compliance, and Lord Mottesford and I chased them. He prevented it,' she finished, beginning to laugh at the recollection. 'He knocked Hubert down, and was marvellous!'
'My thanks, Richard,' Edward said, still looking puzzled. 'Where are they?'
'On their way to Devon,' Lord Mottesford said calmly.
'But Charlotte? How did you persuade them to leave her with you?'
'I intended to bring her back to town. For you to renew your offer, if you so wished.'
'If I wished? Richard, are you crazy? Of course I wish, and Charlotte knows it. But how can we marry if that wretched woman refuses her consent?'
'She won't. Well, are the pair of you betrothed? If so, I suggest we sit and eat some of this excellent fare the landlord has provided. There would have been time for him to roast a capon after all, had he known,' he added reflectively, and Prudence chuckled.
'Well, my love?' Edward asked, and Charlotte, with a shy smile, slipped her hand into his.
'Champagne, mine host!' Lord Mottesford called, and they then explained everything in detail to Edward while they ate.
'I'd no notion you were an heiress,' he said at the end.
'Neither had I, and it feels very strange.'
'But you can't cry off because of it,' Lord Mottesford warned. 'Prudence and I are witnesses.'
'If Charlotte is happy so am I. But it's high time we were setting off for London. Where can Charlotte go?'
'We'll take her to my home,' Prudence said quickly. 'Aunt Lavinia will be delighted to have her until the wedding can be arranged, or Sarah will.'
'Good, so you take Charlotte in your curricle and we will follow when I've settled with the landlord. We'll see you later in Grosvenor Square.'
Edward and Charlotte then left, while Lord Mottesford went to find the landlord.
Suddenly, after all the excitement, and alone in the coffee room, Prudence felt oddly bereft. She was sitting on the window seat, her feet curled underneath her, her chin on her hands, when Lord Mottesford returned.
'Well, are we ready?' she asked brightly, coming to her feet.
'Not for a while. Prudence, my dear, am I forgiven?'
'Forgiven?' she asked, suddenly breathless. 'I ought rather to be thanking you for helping Charlotte, and bringing me with you.'
'Sit down.' He took her hand in his and led her back to the windowseat, then sat beside her, retaining her hand in his.
'My lord?'
'I never intended to marry that wretched girl,' he said, an irrepressible twinkle in his eyes, 'although I confess I did not expect to escape quite so easily.'
Prudence laughed. 'Permit me to say you were thoroughly unscrupulous, my lord! A farmhouse in Westmorland indeed! And needing to retrench! It would have served you well if she had called your bluff!'
'I don't think there was any fear of that. What Emma wanted was a rich and complaisant husband to pay all her bills, while she queened it in London. I'd have found some other way of getting rid of her if those threats had not worked.'
'Unscrupulous, my lord.'
'Indeed. For I could no more have married her than Charlotte could the deplorable Hubert.'
'But why did you permit them to trap you in the first place? It would have been so easy to deny it, to say it was all a mistake.'
'But I wanted to make you sorry for me,' he replied, in apparent surprise she should not already have guessed his motives. 'Prudence, we started badly with the stupid wager. I never dreamed you knew of it, or I would have understood earlier your inexplicable coldness, after I was so sure you were beginning to return my regard.'
'I was unable to believe you were sincere,' she said slowly. 'I wanted to, so much, but did not dare.'
'I was sincere after the first couple of days, I think. It took so little time to realise that you were different from the usual simpering misses just out of the schoolroom, that I have been avoiding every time I came to London on leave. I certainly never wished even to flirt with them for more than a few days.'
'You are a confirmed flirt?' she teased, suddenly happy beyond her wildest hopes.
'Utterly,' he agreed, 'and unrepentant. But now I shall always flirt with you. Just with you. Am I forgiven? Will you trust me now?'
Prudence nodded, and sighed as he pulled her towards him, to kiss her gently on the forehead.
'When will you marry me, my darling?' he asked, his voice husky.
'Shall I have to live in Westmorland?' she asked, in a mock solemn voice.
'Only if you displease me. But I would live there with you,' he added as she drew away from him. 'I could not bear to be apart from you.'
'And will you allow me a new gown every year?' she queried anxiously.
'I might manage two. And possibly a bonnet as well, as long as you trim it yourself with all the leftover scraps from the gowns you will make.'
She giggled. 'After threatening Emma with such fierce retrenchment, how will you dare to appear in town, my lord?' she demanded.
'I shall live on your money, of course. You are an heiress, aren't you, or have I been misled?'
'I haven't a penny,' Prudence claimed blithely.
'Oh, dear, how can I get out of this betrothal?' he asked with a worried frown.
'Well, I haven't yet accepted your offer, my lord,' she reminded him.
'So you haven't. What a relief. I shall withdraw the whole scheme unless you immediately start to address me with greater respect, as Richard.'
'But I prefer Dicky,' she said pensively.
'I could even tolerate that from you, my darling,' he said, suddenly serious.
'Richard, no!' she exclaimed, and as Prudence turned her face towards him, he bent his mouth to hers.
It was some time later that, shaken by the glimpse she had been vouchsafed of their mutual passion, Prudence sighed and said she would be an abandoned wretch if she did not agree to marry him now.
It was very late when they arrived in Grosvenor Square, where Charlotte had been welcomed an hour earlier, and where Edward had been invited to join the Fromes for dinner. As Tanner opened the door and Prudence stepped inside the familiar house, Lord Mottesford at her side, Netta came flying down the stairs.
'There,' she exclaimed, ignoring her mother's protests that she ought to be in the schoolroom having her supper, as Lady Frome emerged from the drawing room and followed her down. 'I knew they would make it up. Mr Gregory explained he won the wager within the week. When are you getting married? Can I be a bridesmaid?'
Prudence blushed, glanced up at her smiling aunt and uncle, and found Richard's arm was about her waist.
'She's marrying me just as soon as we can possibly arrange it,' he said firmly. 'I'm not risking any more ridiculous misunderstandings. And I'm not entering into any more wagers with you, my lad,' he added to Edward. 'Unless it's one to beat you to the altar!'
Copyright © 1987 by Marina Oliver
Originally published by My Weekly Pocket Novel)
Electronically published in 2011 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228
http://www.RegencyReads.com
Electronic sales: [email protected]
This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.
Table of Contents
OTHERWISE ENGAGED
Sally James
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Sally James Page 9