“We need ten pounds for the ticket,” Verbena said, whispering fast and tactfully letting her sister regain her composure, “unless we pay half here and leave the remainder for Aunt Mabel to pay, which seems mercenary since we are depending on her for so much already. None of which she even knows about yet.”
Edeline cleared her throat. “I might have ten pounds left from my last allowance. If I have to go through Andrew’s pockets, I will.” The words had a determination Verbena had been waiting for. Her sister was ready. Ten pounds was all that stood between her and freedom.
“Get up early. The mail coach is first come, first served.”
*
Verbena gave Edeline a cautious hug and watched Damon lead her sister out the front door, whisking her back to Thernwood. Now that their plans were in the works, one tension had been replaced by another.
Ten pounds. At five pence a mile, if they paid the whole fare, that would leave nothing for Edeline, not even the expected tip for the guard. They had decided not to count on Aunt Mabel’s having the cash for the rest of the fare. Their aunt might not even be there to pay any remainder. It was summer, the height of the Season. She could very well be in London. As long as someone was there to open the house, even a skeleton staff, Edeline would have a place to stay, and that was what mattered.
Edeline had better be right about Andrew’s family, that they would be only too glad to see the back of her, Verbena thought. She also had better be right that no one had guessed about the baby. That was the real threat. If the Therns guessed, no matter what they thought of Edeline, they would want that child for themselves. It, not Damon, was the heir.
She still thought her sister was being a fool. To sacrifice security for a hand to mouth existence? But if her sister was right and they would take the child away?
How much would they dare?
In the interest of secrecy, she would manage the food for Edeline. Thank goodness for Mrs. Downs’ generous cooking. There would be bread, and maybe even some cheese. A clean cloth to wrap them in, and an old reticule as a basket.
Matthew arrived with his usual enthusiasm, kicking the back door open, startling her. Verbena turned away from the front door. There was nothing else to see, anyway.
“I got all the eggs,” he called, and she heard the basket thump on the table. “And I bought us some cream.” The metal milk bucket rang as it took its place next to the eggs. Everything he did made twice as much noise as when the other children did it. She arrived in the kitchen just as he called, “I suppose we need butter.” He added, in a more moderate voice, “Oh, sorry, Bena, I did not see you there.”
“I was just saying goodbye to Edeline. She was visiting. Yes, if you could churn some butter, I would appreciate it very much,” she answered, and gave him a quick peck on his cheek as a thank-you. Soon he would be too adult for such displays. Even now, she had to go on tip-toe to reach.
“Damon told me they were going back to London soon,” Matthew said as he picked the bucket of cream back up, thumping it soundly against the side of the table as he did. “So Edeline won’t be around any longer.” He picked at a spot of something on his pants with his free hand. “I thought she might stay here. We can use the help.”
“True.” Verbena was surprised. What prompted that idea? Edeline was practically a stranger to him, too, not just the girls.
“If Edeline were here, she could do some of the cooking, and then Damon would not have to hire someone.”
“I know. But it is most kind of him to do so much for us.”
Matthew stopped at the back door and looked at Verbena with a new wisdom in his eyes. “I wonder why he is doing so much. I like him, but no one else there has paid any attention to us ever.”
“True.” There did not seem to be anything else to say. Verbena welcomed the sound of light feet pattering along the hard-packed path toward the back door. Familiar young voices giggled.
“She will be so surprised. I want to tell her first.” That was Annabelle, sounding happy.
“No! I’m the oldest. It is my turn.” Whatever news Annabelle wanted to spill, Lizabeth was ready to spoil it. Things were back to normal. “You always get to go first.”
Which was a blatant lie, Verbena thought, but it was the privilege of older ones to think the younger ones got spoiled. Edeline had done the same to her years ago when life was simple and the biggest problem was who came first.
“No, I do not either!”
There was a cluster at the doorway between him going out and them coming in. A new argument was about to start, so Verbena intervened. She met them at the door as Matthew moved along the porch toward the churn at the corner of the house.
“We made money,” Lizabeth called, her voice increasing volume as she skidded to a stop in front of Verbena and held out a very dirty hand. The front of her dress was caked with mud. In her palm rested three coins, as dirty as her hand.
Verbena smiled, and hoped the dirt would come out of the dress. “How did you manage that?”
Annabelle wailed, “It was my turn!” She seemed to have stopped in the perfect place in the kitchen that allowed her voice to carry, through the hallway, no doubt up the stairs, certainly into the parlor, until Verbena thought her ears were ringing.
“Baby,” Lizabeth scoffed.
“I am not!” The wails redoubled.
“Girls! Hush! We do not do this where anyone can hear.” Verbena wanted to do her own screaming, wished for the simple days when she could hold both girls and rock them quiet. For an appalling moment, when Annabelle kept crying and Lizabeth taunted her with silent faces, when Matthew’s churning rhythm paused and she knew something distracted him and he might not remember to start churning again, she wanted help in the person of Damon to come.
She was so alone right now, so burdened with decisions to make, children to care for, Edeline to get away, the Therns to worry about, and Damon himself one last worry, so handsome, so strong, and so perplexing.
*
Edeline walked into Thernwood with Damon right behind her. Adams met them at the front door, his usual sour expression firmly in place. “Madam, you are wanted in Sir Edward’s office. He is waiting for you there.”
Damon stepped up to her side. “What is it?”
Edeline looked between the two men. Damon was frowning, but she saw an angry spark in his eyes. Edward Thern wanted to speak to her? Damon knew – or suspected – what it was and did not like it. Her already uneasy stomach tightened and for a moment she thought she might be sick.
Adams was as impassive as ever. “I would hardly know, sir. It is not my place to ask questions. I was merely told to give the message.”
Damon looked down at her. He was so much taller than Andrew – her heart blocked her lungs and for a moment she could not breathe. Andrew. Would she always have this awful emptiness every time she thought of him?
But Damon was speaking. “We should not keep Father waiting.” He did not move either, just looked down at her with that same spark in his eyes. “I do not know why my father is waiting for you, but I fear I should probably apologize beforehand. I know my family has said some harsh things about you, or at the very least has not stopped the worst of the gossip, and for that I apologize. It is beneath us.”
The ache in Edeline’s chest grew worse. She could not turn. Just one more breath, one moment before she had to walk into that room and find out – what? “I thank you for that.” She managed to wave a hand in the direction of his father’s office. “We should not keep him waiting.”
Damon gave a brief nod and ushered her ahead of him.
They entered the room in near silence, their footsteps muffled by the rich Turkish carpet. The deep green curtains were pulled over the windows, the room dim except for a lampstand burning to one side of the massive desk of carved dark wood. That desk, Edeline always thought, had been purchased strictly for the purpose of intimidation, a purpose it served well just now. Whatever he wanted to discuss, it could not be good
news.
For a moment, she did not think anyone was there. A shadow moved by the draperies. Edward Thern was standing there, all in black, just a darker color in the dimness. He did not invite her to sit. As her eyes adjusted, she could see his face.
“Edeline.” A coldness surrounded him, a coldness that proclaimed his standing was not out of courtesy but rather to avoid giving the impression that this meeting would take any of his precious time.
The only warmth in the room came from the man at her side.
“My wife,” Edward said, in the same cold tone, “and I have discussed this and we have decided it is best if you go back to your family and recover. We feel the pace of London is too much for you. It is not unheard of for widows to find a place to take time to grieve. No one will think anything of it if you do not come back with us.’
For the space of a breath, she wondered if she had heard right. A buzz started in her ears. Edeline’s heart gave a little leap of happiness. How funny, that this opportunity would drop into her very lap like this!
“Sit,” Damon’s voice said, and she sat. Let him think she needed to. Better to sit than to dance.
A laugh built in her chest around the sorrow that had become a part of her, and she swallowed hard to keep it inside. All the planning she and Verbena had done! All their plots, Verbena coming to the funeral to try to catch her, making excuses to talk alone in Verbena’s room – and all that time she was going to be left here unattended to plan her escape!
Damon was silent at her side. She wondered what he was thinking. Such a pretty apology when they first arrived at Thernwood, and yet here he said nothing. But she heard his breathing, harsh and rough, as if he was angry.
“I have sent for Agnes. You can show her what to pack.” Edward picked a paper off his desk.
She was dismissed. Edeline stood. Sounds eased through her euphoria, the rustling of the paper in Edward’s hands, the chirping of a bird outside his window, footsteps coming down the hallway.
One last battle to fight with Agnes and she would be rid of the woman forever. Her head lifted as the weight of years slipped away. No more Agnes, no more insults from Catherine and Margaret, no more cutting remarks from her motherin-law.
She was finally free.
It came at an appalling cost, but she was free. From now on she would only be around people who loved her. She would make certain of that.
Just a few more minutes, Edeline told herself, just a few more minutes and it would be over.
CHAPTER 11
Damon shut his father’s office door quietly behind Edeline, although every muscle inside screamed for action. He stared at the dark wood in front of him.
He had to find a way to fix this. Verbena had tried to explain the gulf between his family and the rest of the village but he had not understood the true nature of it. He had been too long in the war, where men had a chance to be judged on their own merits.
But now Verbena’s sister was being sent away humiliated, and almost penniless. He knew the kind of money his family possessed. Edeline, who should have been able to make a swath through the bachelors and widowers of London and take her pick, would go back to her childhood home with little more than the clothes she had brought along.
He turned around and looked at his father. Who was this man he had known and loved all his life? Had this snobbery been there all the time?
Edward’s eyebrows raised. He still held the paper he had been pretending to read. “Yes, son? You might as well speak, it is written all over your face. You think me the most callous of men, cruel and brutal. You think I should have let her come with us to London.”
“Yes, Father.” Damon’s hands clenched, he felt the tension all the way up his arms. “Yes, I do. All your words about what an embarrassment she was – I thought them the words of grief. You meant them.”
“Of course I did.” Edward sat down behind his impressive desk, the movement smooth and relaxed, as if proclaiming how completely untroubled his conscience was. He set the paper down. “She is no longer a part of our family. Andrew is dead, all ties between us are severed. So I did what I have longed to do for six long years. I sent her back to her family.”
“You and I both know that is not how it works. As Andrew’s widow, she gets all that was his. She is a wealthy woman now.”
A smug smile curved his father’s mouth. “Well now, son, that is where you are wrong. Andrew had nothing.”
A laugh of disbelief bubbled out of Damon’s throat. “Don’t be ridiculous! He could not have had nothing. I know how much money we have. I know our very wealth is why we received our title. Of course Andrew had money. And that goes to Edeline.”
Edward shook his head. “No. Heir or not, I knew him well enough to know he could not manage this estate.”
Damon braced a hand against the bookshelf for support. “What difference does that make for his widow? We are responsible for her future wellbeing. At least until she remarries. We owe Andrew that much.”
Edward leaned back in his chair, looking smug and satisfied. “She is only entitled to what remained of Andrew’s last allowance. And that was already disbursed. Andrew left no will, nothing to provide for her.”
Damon could feel the blood pound in his head. He repeated, “No will? How is that possible? He knew he was ill for some time. I don’t believe he would have done nothing to plan for Edeline. He loved her.” Damon looked at his father, so unconcerned, and an ugly thought formed. “Father, what have you done?”
Edward’s eyebrows raised. “I? I have done nothing. Do you really think I could be so heartless as to ignore my dearest son, my own firstborn, his dying wishes?” He leaned forward, his hands half-extended as if in a plea. “I am not ashamed to say that I did not approve of Andrew’s choice of a wife. I never will consider her to have been his equal. And it is true that Andrew had been ill for a time. Your mother and I had much on our minds. You were near death. Andrew had been sick before and had always pulled through. We had no reason to think he would not recover again. It was only the last few weeks that we realized this time was different. Do you think I was worried about any will?”
He let out a weary sigh. “It truly saddens me to think you could even think I would be capable of destroying a will left by my son. Even if it was to take care of her.” Then he straightened. His voice grew strong again. “Anyway, it is not like she will be destitute. She does have family. Her own family. They have land, and a house. It is highly unlikely she will starve.”
Verbena had tried to tell him how little his family knew about what happened outside their own world. It was one thing to hear it from her, quite another to hear it from his own father. “Do you ever wonder how anyone in the village finds enough to eat? They pay their rents, but they no longer have use of the village green. We own that, remember? And we fenced it off. That means Edeline’s family can’t use it either. Do you ever wonder what happened to the cows, the sheep and goats that used to graze there? I promise you, Father, if Edeline is to live with her brothers and sisters – which is totally unnecessary – her family will need whatever income she brings to them.”
Edward’s face flushed with anger. “Now you are going to make me responsible for the whole family? Just how many people am I supposed to fund?”
Bad enough that Verbena’s sister was being thrown out of the family house. But thrown out with nothing? “She was your daughter-in-law! We most certainly have a responsibility to her!” Why could his father not see that? “I’m not saying we must pay everyone in the household, but we have a responsibility to her. She gets an allowance. Andrew’s allowance. At the very least.”
His father just looked at him as if he did were speaking a foreign language. “I have already explained that Andrew had nothing of his own. Perhaps it is for the best that it will go to you instead of him. I thought I would have time to teach him before I was gone. That was my plan, to slowly ease him into his responsibilities. God knows, I had tried over the years, but he had absolutel
y no aptitude for it. And then after he wed, he was off in a world of his own much of the time. I sent for him over and over again, scheduled meetings with our estate manager, but half of them he forgot – so he said. Much as I loved my son, I never understood him.”
“I did, though,” Damon said, shoving down his anger. “I understood him. And I understand, partly, what you mean. He did not comprehend numbers, he told me. Letters came easily to him, but numbers never made sense. When we were on the schoolroom together, I tried myself to teach him. Much of the time I did his assignments for him because he was so frustrated. He would have needed an honest manager, one he could trust not to cheat him, but he did value his inheritance. I listened to him, you see. You talked to him, I listened to him. Perhaps that is the problem.”
Edward slapped a hand on the desk. The sound cracked on the air. “Talk or listen, it would have made no difference. He needed to learn, and he had not. So I kept him on an allowance.”
“Which is Edeline’s allowance now. You can not leave her without funds. As Andrew’s widow, she is entitled to whatever income he had at the time of his death. And I refuse – ” Damon took the few steps up to his father’s desk and leaned in it. He felt his hands curl into fists against the hard wood. “I refuse to believe Andrew had nothing.”
Edward raised one eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. He seemed to pull himself together with effort. “I don’t care if you believe it or not, Damon, it is true. Perhaps if they had had children, your brother might have seen fit to take more interest, but it had not happened, and so I had to keep him on a very tight leash. There might be last quarter’s allowance, although I doubt it, but there certainly is nothing else.”
Damon’s eyes narrowed. His throat was almost too tight to speak, as if his anger had him by the neck instead of his father. He could not let Edeline go back to her sister destitute, much less remain that way. He leaned closer to his father and said with deliberation, “Then I will give her something from my own income. Don’t forget, I have money of my own.”
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