Lord Somerton’s Heir

by Alison Stuart

  Sebastian sighed and retrieved the small but significant object. Only one officer, other than himself, would have worn the insignia of the Twenty-Second Regiment of Foot in this neighbourhood. He knew as soon as Bennet showed it to him that he had found Amy Thompson’s secret lover. Had he also found her killer?

  He looked down at the button in his hand. It carried such a weight. A man’s life, but it had already cost a life — two lives.

  ‘You have the death of two on your conscience, Harry. Amy carried your child.’

  Harry flung himself out of his chair and walked across to the window, running his hands through his hair.

  ‘It was an accident, Alder.’ He turned to face Sebastian, his face crumpled in distress. ‘There’s not a day goes by when I don’t think about it…what I did…’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘We used to meet in the pavilion up behind the lake. When I was staying with Georgie I’d send the girl a ribbon. That was our secret signal. Different colour for different days. The last time…’ Harry went down on his haunches covering his face with his hands. ‘She told me she was with child. She started making all sorts of demands. I couldn’t think straight.’

  Sebastian regarded his friend without sympathy. ‘Plenty of men find themselves in your situation, Dempster. They don’t resort to murder.’

  Harry rose to his feet and stared at Sebastian. ‘Murder? It wasn’t murder. I admit I lost my temper. I panicked. She took a step backwards and slipped. I couldn’t stop her. She fell backwards and hit her head on the corner of the bench.’ His breath came in short bursts as if he had been running. ‘I can still hear the crack. I didn’t know what to do.’

  ‘Was she still alive?’

  Harry shook his head. ‘No.’ He took a great shuddering breath. ‘I waited for hours until it was dark and she didn’t stir. No pulse. She just lay there, cold and dead with her eyes wide open. I carried her body down to the lake and I put her in. There wasn’t even any blood, Alder. No trace that it had ever happened.’

  ‘And you went on with your life,’ Sebastian said without disguising the disgust in his voice, ‘leaving her family to mourn; her mother to suffer an apoplexy, her body to be buried in unconsecrated ground.’

  ‘She was only a housemaid!’ Harry all but screamed.

  Sebastian didn’t answer. He held out his hand, palm open with the incriminating silver button. ‘When did you lose this?’

  ‘After one of our trysts,’ he said. ‘I was wearing uniform on my way to a party. It was annoying to find it missing but I just thought a thread had come loose.’ He scowled. ‘If I had known the chit had purloined it…’

  ‘She loved you. She was carrying your child and you threw her away like a piece of refuse, Harry.’ Sebastian could not keep the disgust from his voice.

  Harry finally met his eyes. ‘What are you going to do?’

  Sebastian shook his head. ‘What are you going to do, Dempster? You have twenty-four hours before I report this to the Chief Constable. If what you say is true then you won’t hang…or you can be the coward I think you are and run. The choice is yours.’

  Harry stared at his friend. ‘That’s it? You would turn me in? After Spain, after Inez…after everything? God damn it, you’re no saint. You’ve killed!’

  Sebastian’s gaze did not waver. ‘When I have killed it has been in battle, Dempster. I don’t have the death of an innocent woman and her unborn child on my conscience, but I counted you my friend. I owe you the chance to do the honourable thing.’

  Harry gave a snort of laughter. ‘Honour? God, Alder, I lost my honour years ago. Did you know I was all but cashiered from the Army? It was all done quietly, my reputation intact.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Gambling debts. Not just a few guineas here and there. Debts I could never hope to repay, even if my father dropped dead tomorrow.’

  Sebastian narrowed his eyes.

  Harry sighed heavily. ‘You may as well know the whole story. I founded a company: The Golden Adventurers Club. Forged some convincing reports of gold mines in Guinea and promised a fortune to be made. It was so easy to gull the investors. I soon made my fortune back, paid off my creditors.’

  ‘And the investors?’

  Harry’s smile made Sebastian’s flesh crawl. ‘Oh dear, the mines were a failure. As far as they knew, a legitimate investment had been badly made. They didn’t make a fuss, didn’t dare risk their own reputations.’

  ‘And Anthony was one of them. He put everything he owned into that investment in one last gamble to rid himself of Freddy. Did he know it was you?’

  ‘No. I covered my tracks well. Even pretended to be one of the fools caught by the collapse.’

  ‘Anthony lost everything, including Isabel’s jointure in that venture.’

  ‘Well more fool him,’ Harry said, his swagger and confidence returning.

  Sebastian rose to his feet. ‘Get out of my house, Dempster. You have twenty-four hours to examine your conscience.’

  Harry straightened his shoulders and, without looking at Sebastian, walked over to the door.

  As he put his hand to the doorknob, he said, ‘Your problem is you are too trusting, Alder. You see good in people where there isn’t any to be found.’

  ‘Get out before I change my mind.’ Sebastian turned his back on the man he had called his closest friend.

  He heard the click of the door and waited a long moment before he let out his breath. He knew the decision Harry would make. He would run, like the coward he had shown himself to be.

  Tomorrow he would exercise his powers as magistrate and give an order for the body of Amy Thompson to be buried within the churchyard with a proper Christian funeral. He had already housed the Thompson family in a grace and favour cottage on the estate and found a proper nurse for Mrs Thompson. He could not bring Amy back to life, but he could give her some peace.

  ***

  Isabel looked at the card on the silver tray, her fingers playing with the sharp edges for a minute. Her maid shifted uneasily, anticipating the response, but Isabel nodded.

  ‘Show her in.’

  She rose to her feet as Lady Kendall entered the room in a waft of her exotic perfume, wearing a soft, green-sprigged dress and green pelisse.

  Isabel extended her hand. Lady Kendall’s green eyes flashed in surprise and she took the hand in her own green, gloved fingers.

  ‘Thank you for seeing me,’ she said.

  ‘Please take a seat.’ Isabel indicated the chair across from her. ‘Roberts, some tea for my guest.’

  ‘I came to offer my felicitations on your betrothal to Lord Somerton. He is a fine man,’ Lady Kendall said as the maid closed the door behind her.

  Isabel allowed herself a gentle smile as she thought about Sebastian. ‘He is. I am fortunate to have found such a good man,’ she agreed.

  Lady Kendall fidgeted. To see Georgiana Kendall discomfited was a novel experience for Isabel. She looked at the woman curiously.

  ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘I have come to make my peace with you, Lady Somerton. Anthony is dead, so it falls to me. The knowledge that your first husband may not have been what you thought him to be has plagued me,’ Lady Kendall began delicately.

  Isabel looked down at her hands. ‘I know all about my late husband’s unhappy life, Lady Kendall. Seb…Lord Somerton tells me that your relationship with my late husband was no more than platonic. Is that true?’

  Georgiana Kendall’s shrewd eyes held hers, but she was prevented from answering by the reappearance of the maid returning with the tea tray. Neither woman spoke while Isabel poured tea and handed a bowl to her guest.

  Lady Kendall took a delicate sip and looked up. ‘It is quite true. Anthony loved only one woman in his life, Lady Somerton, and that was you.’

  ‘Sadly, I don’t believe he truly knew how to love a woman,’ Isabel said.

  ‘Maybe not,’ Georgiana responded. She set the bowl back on the s
aucer. ‘But I would not have you continue to think the worst of me…or of him. His feelings for you were confused but genuine. I was but a friend to Anthony. No more.’

  Isabel cocked her head, looking directly at the woman. ‘Just a friend’ had not been the impression conveyed by either party, but it no longer mattered. Anthony was dead and, in his memory, she could forgive this woman.

  ‘I came to tell you that I am selling my home in Lincolnshire and moving away from the area. Too many memories, Lady Somerton. With Harry’s unexpected departure for Port Jackson, I find myself craving some bright company, so I intend to move back to London.’

  Sebastian had told Isabel of Harry Dempster’s sudden decision to seek adventures in the far off colony of Port Jackson. She wondered if there was more to the story than Sebastian was prepared to tell her, but she had learned not to pry. If he wanted to confide in her, he would do so in his own time.

  Isabel allowed herself a smile. ‘Our company is not bright enough for you?’

  Lady Kendall’s lips twitched. ‘In honesty, my dear Lady Somerton, there is a certain earl currently in London with whom I wish to get better acquainted.’

  ‘Ah, I see.’

  Isabel felt a pang of regret. All the time she had thought of Lady Kendall as her rival, only to see that she could have been her friend.

  ‘I hope it is not any antipathy on my part that drives you away, Lady Kendall,’ she said.

  Georgiana smiled. ‘Not at all. I would like to think we part as friends, you and I.’

  Isabel nodded. ‘I think we will probably never be friends, Lady Kendall. We are too different, but I would not like to think of us as enemies.’

  Lady Kendall set her cup down and looked at Isabel with an unblinking gaze. ‘I hear that you are establishing a charity school in Manchester?’

  Isabel nodded. ‘I am. It has been a long held dream of mine.’

  ‘I would like very much to donate to your effort,’ Lady Kendall said.

  Georgiana, Lady Kendall, may just as well have hit Isabel in the stomach. All the breath left her body and her mouth dropped open. ‘Donate? But why…?’

  ‘If a difference can be made to the lives of even just a few women, Lady Somerton, then I will think the money well spent. I will instruct my lawyer to set up an annual donation that should be enough to assist with the running expenses of the establishment. I want no acknowledgment, except a yearly report of your activities.’

  ‘That is extraordinarily generous of you…’ Isabel began but Lady Kendall waved away her gratitude with a gloved hand.

  ‘I have been fortunate in my life. This is just a small way I can repay the many kindnesses.’

  Georgiana Kendall rose to her feet. ‘Thank you for the tea. I will now take your leave. I return to London in the morning. I wish you every well-deserved happiness.’ She bobbed a respectful curtsey. ‘Good day to you, Lady Somerton.’

  With a twitch of her green skirt, Lady Georgiana Kendall left the room, leaving the lingering scent of her perfume. Isabel stood for a long moment, staring out of the window of the dower house. She turned and hurried to her room to fetch her hat and coat and, ignoring the cold, autumnal wind, she strode out of the dower house gate and up the hill to the mausoleum.

  Holding her bonnet, she stood looking at her husband’s name on the memorial.

  ‘Anthony!’ The name rose in the wind and was carried away across the grass. She laid her hand on the cold marble inscribed with his name. ‘Anthony, I’m sorry that it had to be the way it was. Forgive me for not understanding.’

  She sank down to her knees and touched the letters of her son’s name, sensing, for the first time, a peace that she thought she would never feel again.

  Epilogue

  March 15 1816

  Among the gravestones of the Brantstone church, a few hardy daffodils and primroses braved the first breath of spring. The faintest green softened the grey branches of the yew trees that marked the boundary and, inside the little church, Isabel and Sebastian pledged their undying love for each other.

  So many people crowded the church that those at the back were forced to stand and, as the happy couple left the church, it was to cheers and whoops of delight.

  Later, much later, after a grand party in the ballroom — attended by as many of the tenants, villagers and neighbours as could be fitted into the room — the new Lord and Lady Somerton slipped away.

  In an acknowledgment of the change in their lives, Sebastian had announced that they would occupy a much smaller bedchamber than the overblown room that had been Anthony’s. For months, Sebastian had been deep in consultation with Connie about its redecoration and, while Isabel had initially been a little miffed not to be consulted herself, she allowed him his plots and plans, trusting if not to his taste, then to that of his sister.

  They stood outside the door, hand in hand.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ Sebastian ordered.

  Isabel complied. She heard the door open and Sebastian took her hand, leading her into the room. She sniffed, smelling the subtle scent of snowdrops, one of her favourite flowers.

  ‘You may open your eyes now.’

  Isabel complied and her mouth fell open in surprise as she found herself looking at the bed, a familiar scene of seashells and seaweed and little boats carved on the headboard.

  ‘It’s Mother Shipton’s bed!’ she exclaimed

  ‘No. It’s only the head board,’ Sebastian said. ‘When I explained why I wanted it she was only too happy to sell it to me.’

  Isabel turned to her husband, tears of happiness springing into her eyes.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her in towards him. Every time he touched her, she thought she would shatter into a hundred pieces. She wanted to be with him all day every day. As they kissed, she let her mind fly away to the future.

  She was once more Lady Somerton, but how different her life would be with this man. She had found hope and happiness and a new life with a man she loved and who loved her. She knew now what it was to be truly content, and loved.

  Sebastian slid his arms around her, lifting her up and carrying her over to their new bed. Tonight they would come together as man and wife and, in time, God willing, there would be a child: Lord Somerton’s heir.

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  ISBN: 9780857991560

  Title: Lord Somerton’s Heir

  Copyright © 2014 by Alison Stuart

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises (Australia) Limited, Locked Bag 7002, Chatswood D.C. NSW, Australia, 2067.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.