His father’s eyes went wide, and he shot up from his chair. The wheels whirred on the carpet and the chair slammed against the wall. “You most certainly will not! You might as well set her up as your mistress – and that will never do!”
Damon straightened up from the desk. The two men were about a height. It would not be easy to force his father to do anything. In fact, it might be impossible, and he might well have to dig into his own funds to give Edeline anything.
So be it. If he had to support her, then he would. For Andrew, he could do no less and live with himself. Damon folded his arms over his chest, and met his father’s furious gaze straight on. “I fail to see why sending your own son’s widow away with at least something should be such a problem for you. She was Andrew’s wife.”
“Don’t remind me,” his father growled. “That was not my choice, I assure you.”
“Father. Enough.” Damon took a deep breath. “How much did you pay him annually? One thousand pounds? Two?”
“Not that it is any of your concern, but I paid him one thousand a year. Enough to keep him solvent but not enough to let him get himself into trouble.’
Damon nodded. One thousand pounds. He might as well start there. “That is due Edeline, you know that.”
“No, it is not. I already told you, she is no longer part of our family.”
Damon pretended he had not heard. “So one thousand a year is two hundred fifty pounds quarterly. I will take your draft over today, and wait while you write it.”
“Don’t think you can bully me.” Edward’s voice was cold.
“Fine. I can afford two hundred fifty pounds. Just remember I gave you the opportunity to handle this honorably and quell any gossip that might leak out.” He turned and started across the room with a firm stride. If his father let him go and he wound up being the sole support of Edeline, so be it. The room was quiet except his father’s rough breaths and the soft thump of his own heels on the carpet. Damon reached for the door handle.
“Damon! Stop!”
Damon turned, but kept his hand on the brass knob. “Yes, Father?”
“I only paid Andrew that much because there were two of them. He had a wife to support, and stables. The stables are gone. She has no need of them. If it will prevent you from being the cause of nasty gossip, I agree to give her two hundred fifty pounds a year. That will be twenty pounds a month.”
Damon did the calculations in his head. “Twenty pounds eighty a month.” If all went as he planned, he could be married to Verbena soon. Life was much less expensive in this village than in London, and he could take steps even now to make it more so. An excellent idea came to him. He could not think of a single shopkeeper in Thernbury who would dare refuse.
Could the Barnes survive on twenty pounds a month until, well, until whatever happened between Verbena and himself, if they had no other expenses? Based on the condition of their house and what he had seen of their food, they had been surviving on much less.
Edward looked away for a moment, and then back. His shoulders slumped just a little. “Twenty pounds eighty a month.”
Damon raised a hand. “Before you complain about even that much, remember, you have just tossed Edeline out of London’s society, where she might have had a chance of finding a reputable husband, and removing any link to you.”
He walked back to the matching chairs that faced the desk and lowered himself. As if he had all the time in the world, Damon rested his elbows on the chair arms, and linked his fingers. “Why don’t you write out the first installment? Twenty pounds eighty. That will hardly inconvenience you. I can bring it over.”
Edward spluttered and blustered, but he pulled the chair back from the wall, sat down with audible displeasure, jerked open his drawer and pulled out a heavy sheet of paper. As he dipped the quill into the inkwell that sat on his desk, his head jerked back up. “Don’t push me further, Damon. Monthly installments. I will not pay her a year’s allowance at a time. Do you want her father to get his hands on it?”
Damon went still. Much as he hated to admit it, his father had a point. He gave a single nod. “Agreed.”
Edward shoved the signed bank draft over. “Here! Twenty pounds and your precious eighty pence. I hope you are satisfied.”
“Thank you, Father.” Damon rose, took the paper and read it, then turned and walked to the door, stopping to look back. “Just remember as you write out each new installment, if you don’t want to do it for her, tell yourself you are doing it for Andrew.”
Before he could pull the door open, Edward barked, “One might think you wanted that woman for yourself.”
“I assure you, Father, I do not want her.” Damon opened the door and walked out. No, he did not want his brother’s widow. He intended to do his best to marry her sister.
*
Verbena stood next to Edeline in the tiny vestibule and watched the first trunk be unloaded from the carriage by two strapping male servants. Not footmen, as they did not wear the Thern blue uniform laden with frogs and epaulets on the outer coat, and grey stripes down the legs. Probably groomsmen from the stable, with their bulky boots, loose, rough trousers, shirts that had seen better days, and a handkerchief tied around the neck in place of a cravat. Another servant, this one wearing the uniform, sat on the carriage holding the reins with a bored expression on his face.
The front door that Damon had paid to have fixed stood open, making it easy for them to bring in her sister’s belongings.
They had let Edeline go in the carriage, a surprising bit of courtesy. The Therns could easily have sent her here on a farm cart. Verbena thought of Marie Antoinette, being carried through the streets on a tumbrel. At least Edeline would still have her head when it was all over.
Verbena counted the trunks. Three. Modern styles being what they were, gowns took up much less space than those of their grandparents’ day. Assuming it was just clothing in them and not sentimental treasures, Edeline should be able to make it through this pregnancy with enough to wear.
“I know this has caught us all off guard.” Edeline reached out for Verbena’s hand, and they both held on tight. “Where did you think to put me?”
That was the question, Verbena thought. They were already packed two to a bed. Except for herself, but she slept in the small room off the kitchen. The two upstairs bedrooms with their slanted ceilings did not have much usable space. Did Edeline remember? “I could ask the boys if they would take Father’s room, but much as I hate to say it, I don’t expect them to. That would be the most convenient, if the boys would move down into his room, and the girls could remain in their own room and you could have the boys’ bedroom.”
Edeline started shaking her head before Verbena even finished. “Don’t put them out. We don’t know how long Father will be away. I really think his room should be open when he comes back.”
Neither mentioned the faint tinge of vomit and drink that no amount of scrubbing had managed to completely remove.
Verbena was only too familiar with the house’s failings. The house was going to be a shock to someone who had become used to the elegance of the Thern’s residences. The boxy little rooms with their worn furniture, the faded paint inside and out, the peeling wallpaper and sagging porches. The chimney had not begun falling down in bits yet, but that day was coming and she did not know what she would do when it did. At least the roof had not sprung a leak.
Edeline’s face showed none of that. For the first time since Verbena had seen her that awful morning, her sister’s eyes were at peace.
She turned back to the scene outside. The third trunk was being unloaded from the carriage roof. They were running out of time.
“There is another possibility.” The men picked up the first trunk and started up the walk. “My bed is small, so if we all have to share, I thought Annabella could sleep with me. You don’t mind sleeping with Lizabeth in her bed?”
“I will sleep wherever you put me. It won’t be for long. Just until we hear from A
unt Mabel.”
The first trunk neared the door, and Verbena stepped aside to make room. Giving the two men her sweetest smile, she said, “If you would be so good, could you carry the trunks up the stairs and leave them outside the door on the left?”
The men nodded. The one in front said gruffly, “Sir Damon said we was to put them anywheres we was told.”
“Thank him for us.”
The man nodded, and heavy boots clomped up the steep steps. The trunk landed with a hard thump. With four children in the house that kind of sound was so familiar Verbena did not even wince, but Edeline did. “I hope that did not mar the floor.”
Verbena gave her sister a rueful smile. “There is nothing that can be done to the floor that has not already happened.”
The men came back down. The sounds repeated themselves, heavy footfalls carrying the weight up, the deep thump as the trunk was set down, and the clump of boots as the men went back out for the last trip.
Verbena could no longer restrain her curiosity. “What did they say when they threw you out? How bad was it?”
Edeline did not meet her eyes. “Sir Edward was actually very polite.”
Verbena scowled at her sister, annoyed that Edeline would not meet her eyes and her best scowl was going unappreciated. “Hmph. At least they let you take your clothes. They might have tossed you out with only what you had on your back! That would not have surprised me at all.”
“Oh, Verbena. You exaggerate. I don’t mind, actually. It makes everything else so much easier.” But she still did not meet Verbena’s eyes. The most painful of insults could be couched in the most courteous of words.
“True.” And the convenience was true, but that did not help. Every time she thought of Edeline being told to go, and how the Therns hauled her belongings out, knowing the house was full of London Society who almost certainly guessed what was going on, Verbena burned. She forced herself to take a soothing breath, propped her hands on her hips and watched the last trunk start its journey.
This time the sounds from overhead were a bit alarming, scrapes and screeches, a rather jarring crash, and a loud word not normally used in front of women. Both of them turned to stare up the steps. One of the men came down limping.
Verbena looked for blood. “Are you injured?”
“Tain’t as bad as a kick from a horse, ma’am.” The man tried to smile.
“I’m so sorry you got hurt. I hope it feels better soon.”
Edeline smiled sweetly at the two men. “Thank you. This was very kind.”
“Yer welcome,” the other servant muttered, his ears turning red, and eased himself around her.
The carriage rumbled back down the drive and away. As the last sounds faded, Edeline turned to Verbena. Her smile lit her face. “I’m free now. Free to do whatever I want. I don’t need to weigh my every word any more. And I’m going to take my time to plan the rest of my escape before I have to leave.”
“Don’t take too much time. You know gossip in the village. If anyone so much as guesses that you are with child, news will be up to Thernwood and then off to London as fast as the horse can go. If you are right about them, they will be back to claim the baby. I don’t suppose they gave you any of Andrew’s money before sending you off?”
Edeline turned away. “Not yet.”
“I did not think they would.” Not the parents, at any rate. But Damon, how could he go along with this? She pushed the hurt aside. “Let us begin unpacking. We can leave some of the fancier gowns, and take out the ones that will be most practical.
Edeline hesitated, and her eyes picked up a moist sheen. “Yes. That will be fine. It is only for a few days, after all. You are right, soon enough I will leave as well.”
They looked at each other for a moment. “Oh, Edeline, it has been wonderful having you around again. I shall miss you.”
The water in Edeline’s eyes threatened to spill over. “I know. But perhaps you can all come visit. The children would love to see Bath.”
Edeline fumbled for a handkerchief, while Verbena used the skirt of her apron. The children could come in at any moment. It would hardly do to be caught weeping.
“Let’s get the room set up for you,” Verbena said when she knew her voice would be steady.
They started up the stairs, and saw the three trunks that blocked their way, one tucked tight to the next, neatly barricading both bedroom doors – and the latches were facing in. Somehow she and Edeline were going to have to pull them apart just to get them open!
A giggle prompted by despair threatened. It was either laugh or cry. “My goodness! How are we going to unpack these?’
Edeline looked at the wedged trunks and back to her sister. Verbena saw her lips start to twitch. They both studied the hallway, never very wide, and started to laugh.
*
The table was crowded with all four children and herself and Edeline. Edeline had been given Father’s chair and did not seem at all uncomfortable to be sitting there. But then, Father had not been drinking the last time she ate with the family, and Mother was still alive.
Verbena watered the fish soup and added some turnips to stretch it for an extra mouth. She had also baked an extra loaf of bread, a good choice as it was the only part of the meal Edeline was interested in. At least there was fresh butter for the thick warm slices.
Perhaps the smell of fish in the house was not the best choice of a first meal together, considering the state of her sister’s stomach. Undoubtedly, at Thernwood the kitchen was so far away that any cooking smells would never reach the family. Verbena wished she could cook something that would not bother Edeline but meal choices were always limited, and fish were free. They had the added benefit that catching them was more a treat for the boys than a chore.
The table was oddly quiet. Not even the boys, who still had memories of their oldest sister, seemed to know what to say. Her heart ached for Edeline. Those six years away had created a gulf it would take time to fill in. None of the children knew yet that they would not have that time. Not for a while, at any rate.
It did not help the mood around the table that the two of them were hiding such an enormous secret from the others. There was also the other burden of what to do with Edeline’s clothes. She would of course bring along as many as possible, but three enormous trunks worth? Perhaps they could be stowed away in the attic with Mother’s old gowns. Once the babe was born, Edeline could decide what to do with them.
They had decided to tell the children Edeline was going to stay with friends. That explanation would hardly excite comment in the village, and would erase any tracks for the curious, should there be any, to follow.
But they would not say anything until it was time for her to go.
The knock at the front door started all of them.
“I’ll get it,” Matthew shouted, and fled the table. Verbena rose after him, only to stop at hearing his greeting.
“Oh! Hello, Damon. We did not expect you. Did you come to see Edeline? She is here now, you know.”
“Yes, I do know,” came Damon’s warm voice, utterly devoid of any hint of triumph or hostility. “I came to see her. Is she available?”
Verbena hurried out into the hallway. “Matthew, you can go back to your dinner. I will take care of this.” She patted him on the back, and squeezed around him. “Everything will be fine.”
And what a lie that was! She stood in the entryway to keep Damon from coming in. Her heart pounded at the sight of him. She did not know whether it was excitement, an emotion she was beginning to associate with him, or dread at what this might mean for Edeline.
He had certainly dressed for an occasion. A fashion plate of the well-dressed man, his black coat and burgundy vest over his white shirt, the snowy cravat tied in an intricate bow. His black pantaloons were clean, and his boots had only the faintest hint of the dust from his jaunt over. He held a tall hat under one arm that drew attention to the black armband.
In spite of his obvious mourning s
tate, what a catch he must be to their guests!
Verbena had to force herself not to reach up and smooth her hair. Her sleeves were pushed up from cooking. She hastily pulled them down, only to notice a fresh stain on one. She rolled it back up and pretended she merely meant to adjust them. “To what do we owe the honor of this visit?”
He bowed. “I have come with good news. I convinced my father to agree to continue Edeline’s allowance. I have the first monthly payment.”
“Monthly payment?” Verbena stared up at him. Money. Money to ship Edeline’s trunks. Maybe even enough to pay for a room at an inn during the trip and still have some left over for meals so she would not have to depend on whatever Verbena could package for her? And monthly! Money so Edeline would not be a burden to Aunt Mabel. “You actually got him to agree?”
He smiled down at her. The soft evening breeze ruffled the waves in his dark hair. “Yes, Verbena. I got him to agree.”
“Did you have to hold a revolver to his head?” She wished she could take the words back.
Other than the smile that faded, he did not react to her insult and that made her feel worse. “No. I did not. I realize you are not happy with my father right now, but he is not a bad man.”
“I apologize.” She had the oddest urge to touch him, to soothe the sting away. “It was unworthy of me. But you are right, we are not happy with him right now. This whole thing was cruel, from beginning to end.”
“I can’t disagree with you. I believe there is a history between our two parents. I don’t know what it is, and it little matters now, but he did do the right thing by your sister. In the end.” Damon glanced beyond her. “Now may I be allowed to see your sister and give her the news and the bank draft?”
Verbena smiled. Her whole body felt light. “Yes. Yes, I think she would very much like to know.”
She had a new thought. She caught Damon’s sleeve before she realized what she had done. Damon trapped her hand. His eyes held her gaze, something new and unexpected simmering in them. A warm flush that had nothing to do with the summer night washed over her. They both seemed to remember where their hands were at the same moment, but he took his time pulling his away. She struggled to recall what she meant to say. “Their townhouse, where she and Andrew lived? I assume your parents took that away, as well?”
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