‘It’s what children do,’ Eloise said, her heart aching for the rejected and bewildered little boy he must have been. ‘When my sisters were that age, they saw the world in very simple terms. If something they desperately wished for didn’t happen, they blamed themselves.’ Even after all these years it hurt her to recall the tears, the looks of incomprehension when some precious story or drawing or cake or sampler the twins had gone to lengths to produce had been ignored, when the visits to the nursery and the goodnight kisses they longed for weren’t forthcoming. And what Alexander had suffered was far worse. Tears filled her eyes, but she bit the inside of her cheek to stop them falling. He would mistake her compassion for pity. ‘What happened to make you think there might be a different explanation?’
‘No one single thing. Aside from the fact that my brother had not preceded me to school, I was treated the same as all the other boys when I was there. The holidays spent alone in the country gave me serious pause for thought. If I was being punished, there would be an end to my sentence, but there wasn’t one. Why did my father want rid of me? I remember—I am fairly sure it is a memory—he bumped into me on the estates one day. I suppose I must have strayed beyond my boundaries. If I had done something terrible to offend him, I would have expected him to be furious with me. I was terrified he’d beat me. But he looked straight through me with such disdain, as if I didn’t exist.’
‘Dear heavens. That is—I can’t imagine how you must have felt.’
He shrugged. ‘Puzzled. It got me thinking seriously about why I was being treated so singularly. As the less-favoured second son, my father’s indifference is easily explained away, but not my mother’s. To this day she can barely look me in the eye. She is ashamed of me. My presence would have been a constant humiliating reminder to them both of her infidelity, his cuckolding. It was almost a relief to finally conclude that none of it was my doing. I was an innocent victim.’
‘But you bear the Earl’s name.’
‘Perhaps because he didn’t want it defiled. It’s all very well for a husband to populate the country with his bastard offspring, but for a wife it’s beyond the pale. He’d have been faced with the choice of a scandalous divorce, or hushing it up.’
‘So he chose the latter and accepted you as his own, but then he punished you for it,’ Eloise said indignantly.
‘I’m not the only one he punished. You remember I told you that the Earl changed the provisions in his will for my mother?’
‘You said it was some time ago.’
‘It was changed in June 1802. When I was five years old.’
‘That was when you were sent off to school.’
‘It could be that he thought I was his at first, that would explain why I bear his name. But when I was five, he discovered his mistake. He punished me by sending me away, and he presumably informed Walter of my mother’s betrayal, since my brother chose not to remedy the situation in his will.’
‘Which is why Walter shunned you, even though he’s your half-brother,’ Eloise said sadly. ‘I presume you being sent away was also intended to punish your mother, by denying her any contact with you.’
‘I expect so. I wonder now what other cruel retribution he meted out to her. I think it speaks volumes that the union produced no more children.’
The enormity of what she had heard made Eloise feel as if her head might explode. ‘I can hardly believe this. If what you say is true, if this became public knowledge...’
‘It won’t. I promise you, you have nothing to fear. Your reputation and your settlement are safe.’
‘I wasn’t thinking about me! I was thinking about you. You could lose everything, perhaps even face criminal charges.’
‘It won’t come to that.’ He covered her hands, giving her a little shake. ‘Legally, I am the second son of the Sixth Earl—that’s what it says in the parish register, that’s how I’m recorded in the family bible. That is why I am, perfectly legitimately, now the Eighth Earl.’
‘But in reality you’re not legitimate. Good grief, if your cousin Raymond ever found out the truth...’
‘He won’t. You are the only person who knows, and I trust you implicitly.’
‘Then I am very honoured. I appreciate how enormously difficult this must be for you to talk about.’
‘I’ve come to realise that I needed to confront it. You made me see that. Though I must admit,’ Alexander added wryly, ‘until I actually said it, I wasn’t sure if I could. I’m beginning to wonder how much I really know about myself. This house. The things I’ve discovered about Walter. Your insights about my mother. The very foundations that I have based my life on have been shaken to the core.’
‘Has it occurred to you that you might be wrong? About who your father is, I mean. Don’t get me wrong, I understand why you’ve reached the conclusion you have, but you can’t be certain unless you confront...’
‘That will be—difficult. Verging on the impossible. I described my mother as cold. What I meant was that it’s like trying to converse with a stone wall. If she has feelings, she doesn’t give them away.’
‘A trait her son has inherited.’
‘Though you can read me easily enough. Painfully observant, is how you described yourself. Will you come with me, Eloise?’
‘She won’t want to meet me. I’m the wife she’d rather you did not have. But if you want me to be by your side, of course I’ll come. Shall I postpone my visit to Elmswood Manor?’
‘No. You were right, we will both benefit from some time spent apart. Go and see to your sisters. I will write to my mother and inform her we intend to call on her. I thought we could combine the visit with a look around the Lancashire estates. That’s another thing I need to make some decisions about.’
‘To dispose of the inheritance that isn’t rightfully yours? Now I understand why you were so vehement.’
‘It’s true, I don’t feel entitled, but it’s also true that I don’t want them to end up in my cousin’s hands.’
‘If Raymond Sinclair does not change his ways, he’s likely to die young in a debtors’ prison. I don’t think you need worry about him outliving you.’
She had spoken flippantly. In the context of everything Alexander had told her, Raymond Sinclair and his debts seemed trivial, but she could have bitten her tongue out when she saw the effect they had.
‘You can’t know what fate has in store for you,’ Alexander said. He reached for her, as if he would touch her cheek, then changed his mind. ‘That’s why I must put everything in order before I go.’
In case he didn’t come back. It took an enormous effort for her not to protest. She fixed a smile on her face. ‘You’re not going away for ever. You and I, we’re not going to be like Kate and my Uncle Daniel. You said that there would be times when you would come back here, that Fearnoch House would be your home in London.’
To her own ears, her voice sounded desperate, but Alexander didn’t seem to notice. ‘And so it will be. Now,’ he said brusquely, getting to his feet, ‘we have a great deal to do. Leave it to me to make the arrangements for your journey into the country.’
‘What about this house? The rooms that are currently locked?’
‘Unlock them. This is your house now, Eloise, to do with as you see fit. Fearnoch House represents your future, not my past.’
He hesitated before making a show of kissing her cheek, and then he left. Eloise touched her cheek. His lips had barely brushed the skin. Wearily, she sat down at the desk and opened her notebook, but the lists of tasks were a blur. She rubbed her eyes, surprised to find that they were wet. A tear tracked down her cheek and plopped on to the blotter. She couldn’t understand why she was crying. She pulled her handkerchief from her pocket, scrubbed her eyes and blew her nose. There was a great deal to be done.
Chapter Ten
The locked and mothballed rooms yielded little of i
nterest. The two bedchambers of the master suite had been stripped bare, the furniture shrouded in dust cloths. There was no trace of the former occupants, no personal items—no clothes, brushes or combs, items of toilette or books. Any papers of interest had been removed from the huge desk which dominated Walter’s study by Robertson, and Alexander had already gone through those. Walter did not keep copies of any letters he wrote, and any letters of importance—though Robertson claimed they were few—had already been filed in the family archive in Lancashire. In the attics there had been a nursery, according to the floor plan, but when Eloise opened the doors of the rooms, heart thumping, the rooms were completely empty and thick with dust.
She led Alexander on the same tour a few days later, on a Sunday, when he was not required to be at the Admiralty. It was the first time they had been alone, save for meals, since they had embarked upon what they now referred to as their fresh start. In the study, he stood for a long time in front of the desk. When he knelt down, she thought he was examining the beadwork, until he flinched, his eyes screwed up tight, and she realised he was recreating his child’s eye view. When he got to his feet again, he left the room without a word.
In the master bedchamber he stood stock still, staring at the bed where both the Sixth and Seventh Earls had breathed their last, his face impassive. He led the way to what had been the nurseries without the need to consult a floor plan, walking straight through the door of the biggest room without hesitation. ‘The playroom,’ he said, wiping the dust from the barred window to look out. ‘A child’s bedchamber,’ he said in the next, much smaller room. ‘Mine, I think. I don’t think Walter slept here. Through there...’ He opened the connecting door, nodding. ‘Nanny’s room. I’d forgotten about her.’
Eloise followed him back to the main room. ‘You remember living here?’
‘I remember this room. There was a chalk board. A horse. A set of soldiers I was particularly fond of. I remember worrying that they would be confiscated. I don’t know why, but I...’ Alexander dropped on to the dusty floor, tugging at the skirting by the window seat. ‘Good grief!’ The skirting came away. He reached in, pulling out a small lead soldier, turning it over in his hands, smiling. ‘I hid this one, just in case.’
‘Do you remember anything else?’
His smile faded. ‘Not a thing. It struck me as odd, the first day we arrived here, that I didn’t know my way around. I presume that I was too young to be permitted downstairs.’
‘But it was obvious you remembered the study.’
He turned the soldier over in his hand once more, before putting it into his coat pocket. ‘Yes.’ He held the door open. ‘It’s filthy up here. Shall we?’
Wanting to press him but reluctant to force the clearly painful issue, she preceded him out of the nursery, back down the stairs to the library. ‘I think I’ll continue compiling the catalogue. Would you like to help?’
He thought about it. Then he shrugged. ‘This is meant to be my day off from compiling lists, but why not.’
Eloise indicated the open catalogue on her desk with a smile. ‘It’s a simple enough system, even an Admiralty clerk should be able to follow it. I’ll read the titles out, if you can list them in the appropriate section, against the next available number, and I will write it inside.’
‘I think I can just about manage that.’
She pulled the ladder towards the next section of the shelves she had been working on and began to climb without checking first that it was stable. It wobbled, it must have had one leg set in a small dip in the floorboards. She continued to the topmost step, reaching for the first volume. The ladder wobbled again.
‘For heaven’s sake, be careful.’
‘I’m perfectly fine.’ She tugged at the book. It was jammed in tightly. She pulled again and it came free in a cloud of dust that made her sneeze. The book fell from her hands. She grabbed for it, missed, and the ladder toppled, taking her with it.
Alexander caught her before she hit the ground, kicking the ladder in the other direction, holding her tight against his chest. ‘My goodness,’ Eloise gasped, ‘how on earth did you manage to react so quickly?’
‘Are you all right?’
‘I can’t believe you caught me.’
He set her down gently, putting his hands on her shoulders, giving her a little shake. ‘I can’t believe you were so careless. You have book dust on your cheek.’
‘Book dust. Food for bookworms.’
Alexander smiled, the smile she hadn’t seen for days, the one that did strange things to her tummy. She smiled back at him. The air between them quivered with the possibility of a kiss. She stayed completely still, holding her breath. He pulled her to him. She closed her eyes in anticipation.
And then he let her go. ‘Please be more careful in future. I won’t always be there to break your fall.’
He was making for the door. ‘I thought you were going to help?’
‘I think we both know that’s a bad idea.’
‘Yes.’ She pinned what she hoped was a bright smile to her face. ‘Perhaps you should go for a drive, get some fresh air. You are cooped up at the Admiralty too much.’
‘Perhaps.’ He hesitated, holding the door open. ‘You didn’t ask what I was thinking about, when we were in the study.’
She gestured helplessly. ‘It was obviously unpleasant.’
‘My father used to flog me. That’s what I remember. Holding on to the desk, while he beat me.’
* * *
‘Eloise.’ Kate smiled warmly. ‘I’ve been poring over those seed catalogues you kindly brought with you from the Vineyard Nursery. It’s given me some great ideas for replanting the walled garden.’
‘Order whatever takes your fancy and have the bill sent to me and don’t dare protest. It’s a small enough token of my affection and gratitude. The twins seem to be thriving, they’ve barely missed me.’
‘That’s nonsense and you know it. I’ve waited days to have a proper chat with you since the girls have commandeered you. Come and sit down, I’ve just made a fresh pot of tea, and there are some of Phoebe’s shortbread biscuits to taste. Flavoured with lavender, I believe.’
Eloise sat down opposite her aunt, snapping a biscuit in two and taking a wary mouthful. ‘I think she may have overdone the lavender just a little bit. This tastes like furniture polish.’
Kate chuckled. ‘I know we joked about her using the money you have settled on her to open her own restaurant, but I think she may be taking the notion seriously. She’s never had her nose out of that receipt book you sent her—The Art of French Cookery, I think it is called. To hear her waxing lyrical about the chef who wrote it...’
‘Antoine Beauvilliers. He is the chef at one of Paris’s top restaurants, according to Monsieur Salois, who recommended the book to me for Phoebe in the first place.’
‘Ah, yes, the esteemed Monsieur Salois, who I believe runs the Duke and Duchess of Brockmore’s kitchen.’ Kate rolled her eyes. ‘When you arranged the introduction for your sister, I don’t think you realised what Estelle and I would have to suffer. Monsieur Salois sends Phoebe screeds of receipts in every post, or so it seems. Our diet has never been so varied, or so rich. All three of us are in danger of having to let out our clothes. Have you formed a friendship with Lady Brockmore?’
‘She’s very nice. I’ve met lots of people who are very nice.’
‘But no close friends?’
Eloise shrugged. ‘I’m not lonely, if that’s what you’re wondering. Only I’m not sure that I want to spend the rest of my life in London. I miss the country. I miss—oh, Kate, I’m not cut out to be a lady of leisure.’
Kate laughed heartily. ‘You wouldn’t be the Eloise I know if you were. But you’ve earned a little grace and privilege, after all these years.’
‘I need to find something constructive to do though. Something more challe
nging and rewarding than refurbishing a town house.’
‘What about the Fearnoch estates? They are extensive, aren’t they?’
‘And under the care of a very able manager. Though not for much longer. Alexander plans to sell them off. There is coal there, he wants it to be mined safely.’
‘Coal mines require a lot of labour. Miners have families who need homes, schooling, food. I was reading up on Mr Owen’s New Lanark mill and workers’ village recently. You could establish something similar for the Fearnoch mines. That would certainly be a project to get your teeth into, if you could persuade Alexander not to sell.’
‘He is set on it.’
‘I see.’
‘Don’t look at me like that. He has his reasons, good ones, I promise.’
Kate poured them both a second cup of tea. ‘You’ve only been married a short while but I see a change in you already.’
‘In what way?’
‘It’s difficult to put my finger on it. On the one hand you seem to be positively blooming, relishing your new life, yet on the other a little distracted, as if you are fretting about something. Perhaps unsettled is a better way of putting it.’
‘Alexander will be going back to work soon. Abroad, I mean.’
‘Just as you agreed.’
‘Yes.’ Eloise turned her cup around on her saucer. ‘It’s for the best.’
‘You don’t sound convinced.’
She set the cup down. ‘Kate, can I ask you—oh, it doesn’t matter.’
‘It’s not like you to be so reticent. What’s bothering you?’
‘Nothing. Only—did you—do you ever—Alexander kissed me!’
‘Oh, my dear! Pray tell me did he—did he force himself...?’
‘No! No, I didn’t mean that at all.’ Eloise pressed her hands against her cheeks, wishing she hadn’t brought the subject up, but there was no going back now. Besides, if anyone could relate to her situation, it was Kate. ‘Alexander kissed me, and I liked it, and I kissed him back.’
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