He sat down by the brook, staring at the water.
‘How did it happen?’ he wondered. ‘I know some of it was my fault, but not all. Papa always had a certain hostility to me all the time I was growing up.’
It was when he was older that he had realised his parents had never been particularly happy with each other.
His father was a most handsome man and women had always pursued him.
Looking back, Michael could remember times when he had heard his mother scream at his father.
He had known if they were having a row – it always followed the same pattern. Some woman had received his father’s attention in a way his mother believed was an insult to her and a disgrace to the family.
His father began to stay away more and more and, when he did return, he and his wife seldom spoke to each other without quarrelling.
It was then that Michael had tried to help her and infuriated his father by doing so.
“It was your mother’s idea to change the orders I gave about the crops,” his father had said. “But you encouraged her. It is not your place to have an opinion. You are to do what I tell you to do.”
“But you have been away, Papa. I could hardly ask you what I should do when I did not even know where you were staying!”
“I gave my orders before I left,” his father raged. “You and your mother have no right to change them.”
“I only did what I thought was right, Papa.”
“You did what your mother thought was right,” his father answered furiously.
He had another reason for being hostile to Michael.
It soon became obvious that his son had inherited his own good looks. Ladies sighed after him and Michael realised that, incredibly, his father was jealous.
It was the dreary Anthony who was his favourite.
The quarrels increased until at last Michael spent as much time away from his home as possible. His bad habits had developed out of boredom and loneliness as much as anything.
He had stayed on good terms with his mother, coming home to see her whenever he could, always making sure first that his father was absent.
He had been with her when she was dying, smiling at him with tender love.
“Try to forgive your father,” she murmured.
“How can I ever forgive him?” he had demanded passionately. “He should be here with you now.”
“Well maybe I can manage just as well without him as I have had to do so many times. As long as you are here with me, my dear boy.”
She sighed and continued,
“When your turn comes, you will be a better Lord Belmont than he ever was. I know that. I only pray that you will be lucky enough to find a wife that you love, who will be beside you for always.”
“I will only marry a woman like you, Mama.”
“As long as she loves you and you love her. That is all that matters. Be happy, my son. That is my last prayer for you.”
Sitting on the bank now he spoke to the mother he still missed with all his heart.
‘I will be so happy, Mama,’ he vowed. ‘Because I have found the perfect woman, just as you knew I would.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
He rose and walked firmly on.
Now he could see the great house in the distance and stopped for a moment to take in the view of the honey-coloured building with its towers and turrets.
This lovely place was his and he was going to bring his bride here in pride and joy.
With his Verna at his side he would be a reformed character. Together they would rule the estate benignly, loved by all their dependants as his mother had been.
His heart swelled with happiness and hope.
Another twenty minutes brought him to the house. Walking round it he came to the stables where he could see several grooms.
One looked up and a grin of delight spread across his face as he saw Michael.
“My Lord!” he bellowed. “Welcome home!”
They all came running towards him then, their faces full of joy.
“Thank goodness you’re home, sir!” cried Bailey, the eldest groom. “Now things will be all right.”
“I do hope so, Bailey.”
“No one knew where you were, my Lord, and there be such dreadful rumours.”
“Dreadful rumours have a habit of pursuing me,” he remarked wryly. “I only learned of my father’s death by accident. Has his funeral taken place yet?”
“No, my Lord. Mr. Snelkins, his man of business, insisted that nothin’ could be done until you were found.” Bailey lowered his voice. “That didn’t please Mr. Anthony at all, sir. Proper put out he were.”
“Really,” Michael murmured.
“He’s got a real temper and no mistake. But now you’re here, it’ll be alright.”
“I’d better go inside and find out how things stand.”
“Wait until this gets around the neighbourhood!” cried Bailey, doing a little dance that belied his age.
“Good times are comin’ now,” exclaimed another and a little cheer went up from everyone.
It was obvious that none of them had heard rumours that he might be disinherited and Michael’s spirits soared.
Servants always knew bad news before anyone else and these grooms were making it clear that they accepted him as Lord Belmont – Master of all he surveyed.
He thought that the old house had never looked so beautiful as he returned hopefully to claim his birthright.
He headed for a side door that he knew was always open during the day and found it ajar.
The house was very quiet as he entered and slipped along the side passage until he came into the hall. Then he opened the door into the sitting room where most of his relations sat when they were not entertaining guests.
As he expected there were two of his sisters there who jumped up with a cry when they saw him.
“Oh, Michael, you have come at last!” exclaimed his eldest sister Jane. “We wondered where you were! When I tried to get in touch with you in London, they said you were abroad.”
“I have only just returned from Paris. I saw in the newspaper what had happened to Papa.”
“He died several days ago and we have been trying ever since to find you. You are the Earl now.”
“I wonder just how much of an Earl I am,” he said wryly.
“Why, whatever do you mean? Nothing can take your birthright from you.”
Michael realised at once that Jane did not know of the trouble that might be awaiting him.
“I’ll just take a quick look around,” he muttered.
He went quietly up the stairs, wanting to reacquaint himself with his old home.
Here was his old room, looking bare and lonely, the bed stripped as though no occupant was ever expected to return. Was that what his father had been hoping?
But it was no longer his room. He was now Lord Belmont.
He headed along the corridor to the room that had belonged to his mother. Here he had sat with her, as she lay dying and known, as he had always known, that he was her favourite child.
And then there was his father’s room, the grandiose four-poster bearing the Belmont crest.
Michael stood before it, looking up at the crest.
‘I may not have been too much good up to now,’ he murmured. ‘But I have changed. Love has done that to me and with love’s help I am going to be a credit to our lineage. And so is my wife – when she becomes my wife, which will be as soon as I can arrange it.’
“Well, well, well!”
He turned swiftly at the sound of the sneering voice from the doorway and sighed as he saw Anthony standing there, leaning against the wall.
“So the wanderer returns!”
“Yes, at last,” Michael responded, refusing to be provoked. “It’s good to be home.”
“I wonder if you will always think so – ”
He noticed that Anthony was already slightly tipsy, which meant that the more unpleasant side of his character was
now to the fore. He was a tall man, lanky and unshaven, with a pallid, unhealthy appearance and sullen eyes.
“I thought you’d be gone for a lot longer,” he said.
“You mean you hoped I would.”
Anthony gave a quiet unpleasant laugh.
“Oh no, I have been looking forward to this. I have dreamed of the moment you returned home and I could tell you, face to face, exactly what our dear Papa has done.”
Uneasiness began to stir inside Michael, but he tried to banish it.
“I know you were the favoured son, Anthony, and I daresay your inheritance is large.”
“Large? It’s total. The only thing you have left is the title. If Papa could have taken that from you, he would have done. As it is – it’s all that you have. No money. No possessions. Nothing. You are penniless!”
Michael heard the words, but something inside him refused to believe them.
The glorious dreams, so recently born, could not die in this terrible way.
Anthony could see his face growing paler and his glee increased.
“Welcome home, Lord Belmont. Welcome home, Your Lordship. That has a fine sound, doesn’t it? Well, make the most of it, because it’s all you have in the world.”
“I don’t believe you,” Michael muttered stubbornly.
But he did.
“Believe what you like. You’ll know everything soon enough when you hear the will. Snelkins, my man of business – ”
“Your man of business?” Michael could not resist interrupting.
“Well, my dear fellow, I can hardly call him your man of business. You surely don’t need one for a couple of hundred pounds a year.”
“I have a little more than that,” replied Michael.
“Oh yes, dear Mama left you three hundred a year, didn’t she? What an immense fortune! I do believe that tradesmen contrive to live fairly well on it.”
Tradesmen.
The word brought home to Michael how cruelly his fortunes had now changed. This was worse than anything he had imagined.
He had nothing to offer his beloved Verna.
Nothing.
“We weren’t sure when you would get home – if you ever would,” Anthony drawled on. “Papa’s funeral has been delayed while we sought for you, but we could hardly have waited much longer. Luckily you are here, so all is well.”
“All is well?” Michael echoed with soft fury. “You steal my inheritance and you say that all is well!”
“I stole nothing. Papa made his own decisions – ”
“Influenced by you – ”
“No, influenced by you, Michael. You are the one who quarrelled with him. He would not have disinherited you without good reason.”
“I don’t believe that he did disinherit me. I want to talk to the lawyer and hear every detail.”
“Certainly. I sent for him as soon as I heard you arrive. Now you are here the full truth can come out.”
“You mean the family does not know?”
“Not a thing. But they will know soon enough.”
Anthony strolled away, leaving Michael no choice but to return to his old room. His head was spinning as he tried to tell himself that this could not be true.
And yet he knew it was.
Anthony would never have dared to say such things unless he was certain he could back them up.
‘Oh, Verna, my Verna, what have I done?’
Dispiritedly he started to unpack his suitcase and was looking out of the casement window when he saw the lawyer arrive in his neat black carriage.
Glancing up, he saw Michael looking down at him, and hurriedly averted his gaze. That told Michael all he needed to know.
They all met in the library – Michael, tensed to hear the worst, the lawyer very nervous, and Anthony, blatantly enjoying himself. The girls crowded around, wondering if their wayward father had protected their futures.
Mr. Snelkins addressed Michael in a hushed voice.
“I am so sorry that we have to meet under such sad circumstances, my – er – my Lord – ”
“Stop wasting time,” Anthony told him. “Just read the will. This has taken too long already.”
“Er – yes, well – the will is very simple. The late Lord Belmont left his daughters twenty thousand pounds each. The rest of his estate goes to his son Anthony.”
The girls gasped.
“No, that cannot be true,” cried Jane. “Michael is the Earl, he cannot manage with nothing.”
“But our Papa left him nothing,” asserted Anthony. “Only the title, because he could not prevent that.”
“The house – the land – ”
“All mine,” Anthony added softly. “Every brick, every blade of grass.”
“But what will poor Michael do?” wailed Jane.
“Marry an heiress if he has any sense,” Anthony snarled with a shrug.
Michael now rose and without another word left the room. His head was spinning and he was in a deep state of shock.
This could not be happening.
He had told himself that he was prepared for the worst, but he had never imagined this.
Cut off without a single penny, his only income the pittance from his mother. How could he marry his beloved Verna when he had so little?
He strode onto the drive and began to walk through the grounds, going faster and faster, never looking to see where he was, until he stopped and leant against a tree.
The greenery around him was glorious. It should have been all his, but he had lost everything.
Now he would lose Verna too.
He was about to turn back despondently when he was alerted by the sound of horse’s hooves.
Looking round he saw Verna galloping through the woods.
She looked so beautiful in her blue velvet riding habit that for a moment he could only stand and stare in admiration, forgetting all else.
She saw him and turned her horse, jumped to the ground and hurled herself into his arms.
Without a thought for anything but Verna, Michael kissed her fiercely and passionately.
“I couldn’t bear waiting any longer,” she told him. “Tell me what has happened and let’s plan our future.”
“My love, my love,” he cried in a desperate voice, “we have no future. The news is worse than we could have dreamed. My father disinherited me completely. I have my title and nothing else.”
“Oh no! How could he be so spiteful and horrible?”
“Because that’s the kind of man he was. I see now that he must have hated me. I have a hollow title and two hundred pounds a year.”
“But people do live on two hundred pounds a year, and I have some money. We’ll manage.”
“You don’t understand, my darling, I will have to find a job. If I marry, I don’t want to have to ask my wife for money, rather than her sharing what I possess.”
“Oh, Michael, does money really matter when our hearts are so happy together? Nothing is more important than love!”
“You will never get your father to agree. He won’t let you throw yourself away on a man who can give you nothing but himself.”
“I don’t want anything but you. If I was offered a million pounds to marry someone else, I would tell them all I wanted was you and your love for me.”
She spoke very intensely.
“I adore you,” he said fervently. “But I don’t see how we can ever marry. There is too much in our way.”
“Then we shall ignore it all. I love you with all my heart and soul. Once Papa realises how much you mean to me, he will accept you with open arms – for my sake.”
She spoke with such conviction that he could only believe her. For a minute they stood, held in each other’s arms in a tight embrace that seemed to promise forever.
But then Michael heard the sound of another horse approaching and looked up to find a sight that filled him with dread.
“I thought so,” growled Lord Challoner, looking down at them. “When I heard that Verna had
ridden off without the company of a groom, most improperly, I knew she would have come here.”
“I had to come, Papa. Michael and I are engaged and we mean to be married as soon as possible.”
“I see.”
His Lordship dismounted and faced Michael.
“Does this mean that all is well? Your father did not disinherit you?”
“No,” admitted Michael. “He left me nothing at all. I have only my title and my willingness to work.”
“Work?” Lord Challoner echoed, seeming puzzled by the word. “Just what kind work could you do without demeaning yourself and your title?”
“Oh, Papa!” Verna screamed impatiently. “What difference does all this make? Michael and I will face this together and I will help him in whatever he does.”
“I see.” Her father seemed to consider. “So if he earns his living as a shepherd, you will be a shepherdess? How charming!”
His voice was as cold as iron.
“I need hardly say,” Michael declared stiffly, “that I would never ask Verna to do anything beneath her.”
“Indeed. Then perhaps – ”
Lord Challoner stopped, alerted by the sound of yet another horse approaching.
Looking up they could see Anthony, mounted on a magnificent grey that had once been Michael’s favourite.
He was in slightly better condition, having sobered up and changed his clothes for something tidier.
He dismounted and faced them.
“Good day, Lord Challoner. It is too long since we last met.”
“Yes, I am sorry I did not know your father better. We wasted too much time being hostile and spent too little time becoming acquainted at the end of his life. Now I would like to pay my respects at his funeral.”
“You honour us. The funeral will be held soon.”
Verna drew Michael aside.
“At least Papa is making an effort to be nice to your family,” she whispered. “It’s not like him.”
Michael tried to look pleased for Verna’s sake, but inwardly he was heartsick.
Her father’s sudden affability bore a more ominous interpretation.
His behaviour to Anthony, the one with wealth, was in sharp contrast to his frostiness towards Michael, the man with the empty title.
That was how he meant to be understood, Michael was sure. It was a message to him.
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