A Rival Heir

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A Rival Heir Page 14

by Laura Matthews


  Emily nodded thoughtfully. "There's something dreamy about her. An odd kick to her gallop, as Papa used to say. I like it."

  Hugh liked it, too, but he was not going to advise his sister of that fact. "You like her because she finds you charming," he teased.

  His sister laughed. "Well, there is that. And she likes little Walter. Which is a great deal more than one can say for her aunt!"

  "Yes, indeed. Have you by any chance met my godmother's friend Mrs. Dorsey?"

  "I'm quite sure Miss Longstreet has no friends, Hugh."

  Her brother grinned. "Well, this is an old and long-standing acquaintance, I believe, formed in girlhood during their London season."

  "It's hard to believe that Miss Longstreet was ever a girl," Emily mused. "And, no, I haven't met a Mrs. Dorsey. Why do you ask?"

  Hugh considered how much would be wise to divulge to his curious sister. "There's something havey-cavey going on with Miss Longstreet, and it has a connection to Mrs. Dorsey, though she seems a perfectly pleasant and decent sort of woman."

  "Unlike your godmother," muttered Emily as she set a stitch in her embroidery.

  "Quite. But Miss Armstrong is concerned that her aunt is plotting some mischief."

  Emily's head came up sharply from her work. "Since when has Nell taken to confiding such things in you? She has told me nothing of this."

  "Perhaps that is because of your penchant for rushing in to solve everyone else's problems, my dear sister. I believe Miss Armstrong--Nell--does not wish to precipitate any action on her aunt's part by confronting her with her suspicions."

  "As though I would confront that old harridan! She would tell me to mind my own business, or worse!"

  "Precisely. Nell," he said, enjoying the sound of her name on his tongue, "told me on our drive back from Combe Park that Mrs. Dorsey had mentioned in passing that Miss Longstreet had once been engaged to marry Lord Westwick."

  "Never!" Emily looked truly appalled. "I cannot believe that even as a young man the earl could have been so lacking in judgment. And why would she have turned him off? Answer me that."

  "I cannot. It is possible, I suppose, that Mrs. Dorsey is mistaken. But somehow I doubt it. What Nell wondered, and I can see her point in this, is whether any of Mama's old correspondence with Miss Longstreet might have survived. It was the three of them--Mama, Miss Longstreet, and Mrs. Dorsey--who were such bosom beaux at the time. If indeed Miss Longstreet was engaged to Lord Westwick, it would surely have been discussed in their letters, along with the reasons for the termination of the engagement."

  Emily's brow wrinkled in concentration. "Mama did save her correspondence with a few people. I have no idea whether Miss Longstreet was one of them, though it would seem likely since she was your godmama. When Mama died... I don't know, Hugh. Perhaps the letters were destroyed. Or they might have been relegated to the attics. It is years ago, and I was not fully grown. The Fallings housekeeper at the time is likely the one who would know, but she has retired, has she not?"

  "Three years ago. I could write to her, but her memory was failing when she left. It might be simpler to have Mrs. Luther make a search of the attics."

  "Do," Emily urged. "I would give a great deal to know the whole of this story."

  "So would I."

  Chapter Twelve

  Though Nell had attempted to query her aunt about Mrs. Dorsey's visit, the stubborn woman would say nothing more than "She's gotten quite old." No use pointing out that Mrs. Dorsey was no older than Aunt Longstreet, of course.

  A few days after her visit to Combe Park, Nell set down her cup of chocolate at the breakfast table and regarded her companion with curiosity. "Don't you wish to pay Mrs. Dorsey a call, Aunt? I'm sure she would love for you to see her house. The whole of it is like a conservatory, there are so many plants. Shall I arrange to take you there this afternoon?"

  "I'm perfectly capable of arranging to get myself anywhere I wish," Rosemarie grumbled. "In fact, I may very well decide to visit Gertrude this afternoon, but I shall do so on my own. Surely you can find something more interesting to do in Bath than visit with two old ladies."

  "Well, if you won't be needing me, I believe I shall go riding with Emily Holmsly later on."

  "You would do better to make friends with more serious ladies, Helen. Mrs. Holmsly is no more than a social gadabout."

  "I'm fond of her. And I long for a ride."

  "You can ride in the country. Here in town you might pursue more sophisticated interests. Go to a museum, visit an art exhibit, study the architecture."

  "Ah, but I might develop a taste for that kind of amusement," Nell teased, "and what would I do when we are back in the country?"

  "No one is keeping you from pursuing such interests in the country," her aunt sniffed.

  Nell smiled only slightly when she said, "No, indeed, ma'am."

  "Humpf!"

  And so Nell rode out with Emily, and Lord Westwick, and Sir Hugh. If she felt guilty about deceiving her aunt, the emotion was only fleeting once she was astride Rising Star. The immediate rapport she had felt with the mare only seemed to grow stronger as the days passed.

  The earl was unfailingly kind to her, almost as though she were a favorite relation of his. Nell knew he was lonely and felt gratified that she and Emily seemed to amuse him. So it was with a great deal of surprise that she heard Emily comment to her brother one day as they walked back from the stables after the earl had left them, "I think Lord Westwick is taken with our Nell, don't you?"

  Sir Hugh looked as surprised, and distressed, as Nell felt. "Good lord, Emily, the man is old enough to be her grandfather! You shouldn't be putting such notions in Miss Armstrong's head!"

  Nell did not like it that the baronet thought she would for a moment contemplate such a "notion," and she said stiffly, "I assure you it is the farthest thing from my mind. If I suspected that Lord Westwick thought of me as anything other than a young friend, I would be unable to accept the loan of his horse for so much as a ride."

  Emily colored with chagrin. "You quite mistake me, Hugh! That is not at all what I meant. Gracious, his lordship is hardly on the lookout for a young wife! He was so entirely devoted to Lady Westwick that I dare say he wouldn't even think of marrying again."

  Sir Hugh halted in the path, offering her a stiff bow. "I beg your pardon. I seem to have misunderstood you, and in turn to have been misunderstood by Miss Armstrong. It was not my intention to distress either of you. I spoke entirely out of turn, and I pray you will both disregard my careless words."

  Although Nell attempted to graciously accept his apology, she found that in fact she could not. It seemed to her that Sir Hugh had just suggested that she was someone who would encourage the attentions of a lonely old man, making a push to get an offer of marriage from him.

  She had thought Sir Hugh had a better opinion of her. She had hoped Sir Hugh had a better opinion of her. Ordinarily he walked with her from Emily's house to Queen Square, but on this occasion Nell told him she would be going to the library and really did not need his escort.

  "My dear Miss Armstrong," he protested, "I would be pleased to walk with you to the library."

  "Thank you, but I feel certain you have other things to do."

  "Nothing I would prefer to accompanying you." Sir Hugh frowned and cocked his head at her. "You're angry with me, aren't you?"

  "Of course not! How should I be? I merely feel that I have taken up enough of your time today."

  "Well, you haven't," he said frankly. "If you can think of a better excuse, I shall consider it. Come, the library is on my route and you and I have matters to discuss."

  Nell reluctantly allowed him to place her hand on his arm. "Such as?" she asked stiffly.

  "I should very much like to know if you've learned anything more about your aunt's relationship with Lord Westwick. And I wished to let you know that I've sent off an express to the housekeeper at Fallings with the request that she search for any of my mother's letters that may hav
e survived."

  "Is she likely to find any?"

  "That's hard to say. Your aunt is my godmother, of course, so it is quite possible that my mother saved her letters. Whether they still exist..." He shrugged. "Tell me what you've learned."

  "Almost nothing," she admitted. "My aunt has visited Mrs. Dorsey, and vice versa, but is not in the least forthcoming about their time together or their original friendship."

  "Does Miss Longstreet say anything about Lord Westwick?"

  Nell shook her head. "Not recently. She decreed that I was to have nothing to do with him, but I told her that would be impossible if she were unable to explain why not."

  Sir Hugh shook his head with amusement. "And you appear such an accommodating young lady."

  "I am, but I will not be imposed upon," she said, remembering that she was displeased with the baronet. "I have not told her about Rising Star, which is no doubt very wrong of me."

  "It would merely distress her, and it is none of her business."

  "That is the rationalization I use, certainly, but there is the matter of loyalty."

  Sir Hugh did not reply to this and they walked on in silence. When they reached the library, Sir Hugh said, "I would be happy to wait for you, Miss Armstrong."

  "No, no. I will be some time and refuse to delay you further, sir."

  "As you wish. Is this a day when Mr. Bentley is working?"

  "I have no idea.”

  Sir Hugh bowed and turned away. Nell watched as he strolled casually down the street, nodding to acquaintances and stopping to speak with a very pretty young lady. With a sigh Nell hurried into the library.

  * * * *

  Sir Hugh had been caught off guard by his sister's remark. He had been thinking how well Nell rode Rising Star, and how thoughtful it was of Lord Westwick to provide a mount for the young woman. Perhaps there was that questioning in his mind about the motivation for this latter action which made him jump to the conclusion that his sister was hinting at a match between the elderly lord and the impecunious Miss Armstrong. It was the sort of thing Emily loved to promote--the solution to two people's problems in one fell swoop.

  The very idea had appalled him. Surely one always shuddered at the thought of such a young woman with such an older man. It seemed quite unfair, if not a little obscene. Sir Hugh was immensely fond of Lord Westwick, and considered him a vigorous, charming man. But as a husband for Miss Armstrong? No, indeed!

  And even though Emily had denied such a thought, and Nell had spurned it, Sir Hugh could not get the idea out of his head once it had lodged there. What if Lord Westwick, lonely and heirless as he was, had conceived of just such a plan? Surely it had been extraordinarily generous of him to offer so valuable a horse to a young lady he'd scarcely met.

  And Nell had that delightful combination of wistfulness and capability which would just suit a man of Westwick’s years, wouldn't it? She was not at all like Lady Westwick, and therefore could not compete in that field, but she was a unique and winsome thing which might seem perfectly acceptable to the earl in his partner-less state. Giving her the horse provided the perfect opportunity for him to see her nearly every day, when the party of four rode out together.

  Though Sir Hugh attempted to dissuade himself of this scenario, he was not entirely successful. On the following days he observed the earl keenly in his dealings with Miss Armstrong, and every day there was a new invitation to try to dismiss from his mind. Lord Westwick had Nell (and the rest of the party) to tea at his house on the Parade. He suggested a musical evening (which Sir Hugh knew that Nell would not be able to refuse). He invited Nell and Emily to his house so that Nell might try out the exquisite pianoforte which his wife had played. He even tried to get Nell to accept a pair of fine leather riding gloves which "were just lying about Combe Park." As though he hadn't purchased them for her himself! Hugh could see that they were as unused as a new minted penny.

  Nell modestly protested such largesse, but Emily was always there to convince her of the acceptability of it. "Now what is the sense in refusing a pair of gloves which aren't being used by anyone else?" she demanded. "Don't be such a nodcock." No one mentioned, though it was more than obvious, that Nell's own gloves were worn and beginning to fray.

  Hugh was determined to learn the truth of the matter. Was the Earl of Westwick courting Miss Armstrong, or was he not? Though he knew himself to have no right to ask, Hugh was determined to learn the answer to this irritating question. And so one day he took himself off to the earl's house where he planned to confront the man. He went unannounced so as to give his lordship no change to prepare an evasive answer.

  His first surprise was in being kept waiting. The earl, apparently, was with his man of business on an important matter and would be with the baronet as soon as possible. Hugh cooled his heels in the charming sunny room with its sparkling crystals and bright fabrics. He was not uplifted by the decor on this occasion, but rather annoyed by the thought that Nell would undoubtedly adore the room (when she came to the house on the Parade as its mistress).

  His next discovery was how awkward an interview this was likely to prove. When the earl entered the room, smiling and apologizing for keeping Hugh waiting, the baronet had not the least idea how to approach the subject without sounding like a fool. When Lord Westwick expressed his pleasure at seeing Hugh and asked if there was anything in particular that he could do for the younger man, Hugh floundered, "Well, sir, I . . ."

  "Seems to me," Lord Westwick said, waving him to a chair, "that it's time you called me Carstairs. It's a wretched mouthful as a given name, I know, but it's all my own. My dearly beloved wife could never quite bring herself to use it and called me Westwick our entire married life" He gave a soft laugh. "I should like to think I have a few friends who are brave enough to attempt it."

  "Certainly, . . . Carstairs." Now what was he supposed to say? "And I trust you will feel perfectly comfortable calling me Hugh, as almost everyone does."

  "Not Miss Armstrong, I've noticed," the earl remarked with a ruminative air. "Considering her friendship with your sister and yourself, that surprises me a little."

  Hugh was trying to remember if the earl called Nell by her given name, but could not believe that he did. "Miss Armstrong has not given me explicit permission to use her name. I've heard her aunt call her Helen, but of course my sister calls her Nell."

  "Charming name, Nell. And Helen as well, though it has a more formal, solid sound than Nell, don't you think?"

  "I do."

  "And yet they both suit her, Nell and Helen. She's quite an original combination of naiveté and knowledge." Suddenly the earl regarded him keenly. "I fear you will consider me impertinent, Hugh, but I must ask you this. My understanding (and that of society at large) is that you are to inherit Miss Longstreet's property in Westmorland. Do you know if she has made any provision for Miss Armstrong?"

  Hugh's posture stiffened and it was some little time before he answered. The only thing which convinced him to reply at all was the realization that he had been about to tax the earl with something just as little his business as was this of the earl's.

  "It has been my understanding since I was a child that my godmother had intended to make me her heir. However, she has come to take me in some dislike, I believe, and it seems more than likely to me that she will make Miss Armstrong her heir."

  The earl shook his head. "Unlikely. Rosemarie has a sense of tradition which would forbid her bequeathing a whole estate to a possibly illegitimate niece. No, no, don't scowl at me that way. I'm aware of the likelihood that Margaret married her swain. I may not have spent much time in Westmorland, but early on I had plenty of people willing to send me the county gossip."

  "Then you will know that Miss Armstrong has been with her aunt for ten years and makes her home at Longstreet Manor. She does not believe that her aunt intends to leave her the property, or even to make any significant provision for her. I personally find that difficult to accept."

  "Difficul
t, yes, but not impossible." The earl sat for some time with his head bent, thinking. As though he at length had made up his mind, he raised his head and regarded Hugh solemnly. "I intend to make provision for Miss Armstrong. Her situation is untenable and I am in a position to right it."

  Hugh was stunned. "You intend to marry her?"

  "Marry her?" The earl frowned. "No, of course not. Why would she wish to marry an old goat like me?"

  "Begging your pardon, sir, you are hardly an old goat. And you would be making her the Countess of Westwick."

  The earl shook his head. "Miss Armstrong has much too good sense to marry for a title. No, I've been trying to settle on a plan with my man of business. It is all very well to leave her my unentailed property at my death, but what is she to do in the meantime? She must have a decent allowance if she is to remain with her aunt, and a real inheritance if she is to leave her."

  Hugh's mind reeled. "But why? Excuse me for saying so, sir, but you haven't the right to provide for Miss Armstrong. Imagine the gossip if you were to do anything on that order. People would be vicious in their assumptions."

  "What people?" the earl demanded. "Would any of these people be someone whom Miss Armstrong knew or cared about? Would you or your sister make such assumptions?"

  "Of course not! But you know our society. They'd eat her alive."

  The earl winced. "Dammit! That's why I can't figure out how to do it, Hugh. If Rosemarie and I were on decent terms, I'd arrange it with her. But she would more likely spit on me than agree to help her niece."

  "And why is that, sir?"

  The earl sighed but shook his head. "I would rather not go into that. Let me just say that there seems no chance of changing that situation. But I refuse to allow Miss Armstrong to languish as an impoverished country miss for lack of funds. Greenlaw, my man of business, suggests an anonymous trust set up to provide for her, but I can't see that that would be any more acceptable to the gossips. Plus it would mean that trustees would have a certain measure of control. And she really needs an allowance now."

 

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