A Scandal Most Daring

by Rebecca King

  Tahlia felt sick. She stared blankly at the carpet as her uncle’s harsh words swept over her. A feeling of complete abandonment swept over her that was so strong for a moment she considered herself to the only person in the world. It was terrifying. To consider the future all alone was something she had never thought possible. But there it was, staring her in the face; a future living in a place she had never been before with nobody around to guide her.

  When she turned to look at her uncle it was to find him shaking his head with his back toward her. It felt as though he had already closed her out of his life.

  “Well, I will pack then,” she whispered, but hesitated.

  Again, she willed him to object, or suggest an alternative.

  Instead, Henry nodded. “You have your inheritance. It is only a couple of weeks until your birthday, so I don’t mind if the lodge is transferred to you before you go. Given you are not likely to return, we need to finalise the details now. I shall make the necessary arrangements tomorrow.”

  Aware that these were her marching orders, Tahlia nodded but Henry was already on his way to the door.

  “Thank you.” There was nothing else she could say. Her uncle had been generous given the circumstances.

  Henry paused with one hand on the door knob. He stared down at his hand for several moments and then turned toward her. His mouth opened, but whatever he intended to say remained unsaid. Instead, he rather stiffly nodded once and yanked the door open.

  Tahlia listened to the door thump behind him and knew now that she was completely on her own.

  Tahlia sighed and studied the faint lines around her eyes and mouth which hadn’t been there three years ago. Thankfully, they were the result of laughter and not stress, fear, or worry.

  Those damning days before she had left London all seemed like a lifetime away now. Although time had healed the wounds, the ghosts of the past still lingered like a dark shadow over her. She suspected they would remain with her for the rest of her life. Now, though, they couldn’t hurt her anymore and hadn’t since Joseph had entered her life. He made everything she had endured back then worthwhile. In fact, she was now glad that events had turned out as they had.

  The consequence of all the upset; the move to the country, the anxiety, the heartbreak, had been that she had found freedom, independence, and one very special burden she wouldn’t change for the entire world.

  Her son: Joseph.

  She lovingly fingered the locket at her throat which contained a lock of his silken hair. A soft smile curled her lips as the memory of his precious face eased her discontent with the past and her current circumstance. Whatever anyone said about her, she had no regrets about the brief tryst she had shared with Connor Humphries. In fact, she was glad of it. He had, albeit unwittingly, given her something she had never expected to have; a family of her own.

  “I will be home soon, Poppet,” she whispered with a sigh. “As soon as I can get things here finalised, I will be back.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from talking out loud. Maybe because saying the words made her feel as though she was talking to her son. The yearning she had to be at home with him was strong enough to force her away from the dressing table and prepare for the day. The sooner she started to wade her way through her tasks, the more she could get done, and the quicker she would be on her way back to Rutland.

  “And not a day too soon,” she muttered as she went in search of her shawl.

  CHAPTER TWO

  An hour later, Tahlia sat in the chair behind her uncle’s desk and stared at the papers strewn across its surface. It was going to take her days to plough through everything; days she didn’t want to spend in London.

  “Why did you do it, Henry?” she whispered aloud. “You know I hate London.”

  Of course, she received no answer. She might never find out why her uncle had left her his entire estate. He could have bequeathed it to a distant male relation given there were no closer relatives still alive, but he hadn’t. He had shunned tradition and left everything to his disgraced niece instead. It still amazed her and, if she was honest, left her a little stymied to know what to do about it. He knew she had no intention of living in London, so why leave her such a huge house in the last place she wanted to be?

  Whatever the reason, there is a lot of work to do, she thought morosely as she studied the mess that awaited her attention.

  The sheer volume of tasks she needed to carry out was a little overwhelming. If only she knew where to start. The answer, it transpired, lay within the top drawer, in the contents of a folded packet wrapped in red ribbon. She studied her name clearly written in her uncle’s scrawling script and carefully tugged at the bow. Her hand shook a little at what the note might reveal, but she refused to shy away from anything now. Squaring her shoulders, she eased the parchment open and began to read:

  My dearest Tahlia,

  By the time you read this you should already be aware that you have inherited the entirety of my estate. While it cannot make up for the way you were treated before you left here, I hope it will bring you and Joseph a future devoid of worries and concerns.

  It is fair to say that certain matters have come to light since your departure that have given me cause to regret my hasty decisions back then. While there is no way to alter the path we chose, I can bring you certain pieces of information which might help you settle your mind to what happened.

  My solicitor, the one who notified you of your inheritance and sent you the keys to the house, has some documentation of vital importance. I would be grateful if you could take the time before you return home to see Mr Kibble, and collect the letter I have left for you. I will leave it to you to decide what you wish to do with the personal news. However, I ask only one thing of you; that you read the documentation, act as appropriate, and mention it to nobody.

  Yours,

  Henry

  “Act as appropriate?” she muttered. “What does that mean? How curious.”

  “What is?” Oscar asked as he entered the room and dropped a pile of wood onto the hearth.

  “My uncle left some documentation for me at the solicitors,” Tahlia sighed as she waved to a pile of papers. “Why didn’t he leave it for me in the house somewhere?”

  “You uncle knew that, in the event of his death, the house would be empty until you got here. Maybe he thought the papers would be safer with the solicitor,” Oscar reasoned.

  Tahlia conceded that he had a point. “I wonder what he has left me.”

  Oscar glanced at the clock. “Well, you won’t find out if you don’t arrange to see the solicitor. I hope he can see you within the next few days or we are going to be away from home for a lot longer than you anticipated.”

  Tahlia nodded. In spite of the fact she had not had anything to eat today; she hurried out of the room to fetch her shawl.

  “I will go straight to the solicitor now,” she muttered. “Maybe someone will be able to speak with me.”

  “Do you want me to find a carriage?” Oscar called after her.

  Before Tahlia could reply, the front door bell tinkled. She frowned at the butler and waited on the stairs while he answered it. Her stomach lurched as she watched a rather nondescript courier shove another package through the door and then leave. It all happened so swiftly that Tahlia might have imagined it; if it wasn’t for the package Oscar was now staring down at.

  He turned around and lifted his brows at Tahlia.

  “It seems that your admirer is determined,” he declared. He held the package tentatively, as though he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it.

  Tahlia paid it no attention. She was staring at the empty doorway, mulling over the heavily garbed man who had delivered it. There was something unusual about him, only she couldn’t quite decide what. Apart from the fact that he had been dressed from head to foot in black, with a thick, equally black scarf obscuring his face, he could have been an ordinary courier. Most coachmen dressed just like him on a cold and smoggy day
like today. However, unless something drastic had changed in London without her being aware of it, most couriers didn’t dress like that deliveryman did. He was dressed like he was about to mug somebody.

  “How strange,” she muttered to herself.

  “Tahlia?”

  She jerked and stared at the package Oscar was holding out to her. She sighed as she took it off him and carried it into the study, only vaguely aware of Oscar close behind her. A sense of unease settled over her as she removed the outer packaging. Equally as disturbing as the person who had delivered it, this package was different to the one which had been delivered earlier.

  “Do you think it is from the same person?” Oscar asked with a frown as he came to stand beside the desk.

  “I am not sure,” she replied honestly.

  They both remained quiet while they studied the package. Unlike the first one, this second arrival was wrapped in a rather coarse hessian material and tied with thin string. It was also considerably grubbier than the first.

  Tahlia’s hand shook as she lifted the lid free of the box. Together with Cecily, Oscar and Tahlia stared down at the contents.

  “Oh, my,” she whispered, only faintly aware of Cecily’s shocked gasp.

  “Whoever your admirer is, ma’am, he must think an awful lot of you,” Cecily muttered.

  Tahlia’s worry increased tenfold as she lifted a string of rubies and diamonds out of the small box. The myriad hues of the gems glistened in the candlelight like a million stars in the night sky. The way they sparkled so vibrantly made them come alive in her hands. It was mesmerising, but it also felt incredibly wrong even to hold them.

  “I don’t like it,” Tahlia whispered as she dropped them back into the box.

  “What?” Cecily cried in protest. “Why don’t you like them?”

  Tahlia sighed. “I didn’t say I didn’t like them. I meant that I don’t like the fact that they are here. Who would send me something like these?”

  She looked at Oscar for confirmation that he too found something odd about the whole scenario. It was a relief when he nodded and stepped closer to view them better.

  “I have never seen anything like them,” Cecily whispered.

  “They look awfully expensive,” Oscar remarked bluntly, clearly unimpressed.

  “They are not the kind of thing a suitor usually sends someone, especially a lady he hasn’t seen for many years, and has previously had no affection for,” Tahlia muttered.

  While she spoke, Tahlia shook out the packaging, searching for a note or something to indicate who had sent them. There was nothing.

  “Why would someone send something like this and not send a note to say who it came from?” Tahlia asked.

  “Maybe he is assuming that you will guess they are from this Bingham fellow seeing as he has already sent you those green things,” Cecily replied.

  “Emeralds,” Tahlia corrected. “They are emeralds.”

  “Are they expensive?” Cecily asked innocently.

  “Yes, very. They are very expensive. They are not something you usually send to a stranger,” she whispered.

  “Send them back if you don’t want them,” Oscar suggested with a shrug.

  Tahlia looked at him. “I am going to return both of them. It isn’t done to receive expensive gifts like this from anybody. I haven’t seen this Bingham fellow for nigh on three years. We weren’t even on speaking terms. I don’t understand.”

  “Why would he send you something like this?” Oscar challenged. “He clearly has because the packet is marked clearly for you. The note inside is also for you.”

  Tahlia was completely at a loss to find an answer. “Cecily, get me the other package would you?”

  She shivered with distaste and tentatively unfolded the first package of unwanted gems when Cecily returned with them. She positioned the package and note beside the latest arrival.

  Both sets of jewels were undoubtedly expensive, but also bulky. The emeralds were considerably older than the diamonds. They weren’t at all modern, or fashionable. In fact, they looked like they had spent the last decade tucked away in the bottom of someone’s jewellery box. In contrast, the diamonds were bright, sparkly, and of a modern design. Unless she was mistaken, they were new and had never been worn.

  “What do you know about this Bingham?” Oscar asked curiously.

  His brows lifted when Tahlia levelled a glare on him that would have withered marble.

  “Not only is he extremely overweight, but he is bold, has at least four chins, and is twice my age and then some. His attentions are most definitely not wanted. Besides, he is a traditionalist. He is not the kind of man who would understand, or accept, my situation,” she added pointedly.

  Oscar nodded. He suspected that most of the aristocracy in London would not consider her situation with any favour whatsoever. After all, he had witnessed first-hand how spectacular her downfall from grace had been when she had caused the scandal of the century not but a handful of years ago. While her uncle had graciously supported her, he had been unable to do anything about preserving her good name; her character had been tarnished forever. A traditionalist like Bingham wasn’t likely to forget past indiscretions the kind of which turned out to be a scandal most daring.

  “Well, I think the green gems must be sent back to him then seeing as we know they came from him,” Oscar replied confidently. “Do you want me to deal with it?”

  Tahlia nodded, and shoved the emeralds toward him. “Please.”

  Oscar nodded. “Consider I done.”

  “Thank you,” she said fervently. “Now, what about the diamond set? What do we do about those?”

  Everyone remained quiet while they considered the options.

  “They don’t fit the packaging,” Cecily remarked suddenly. “Something that new and expensive wouldn’t usually be sent in wrapping that grubby. It looks like it has been used to polish the hearth.”

  Oscar braced his elbows on the desk and frowned at the packages. “I think that whoever sent these diamonds probably sent them to the wrong address. At some point, they will realise the courier made a mistake and will most probably send someone to fetch them.”

  “Well, we can’t do anything right now. I can’t send them back to Bingham without being certain that it was him who sent them. Let’s just see who turns up,” Tahlia sighed as she pushed away from the desk. “If someone arrives, hand them over. If not then we will need to make a decision about what to do with them because they can’t stay here.”

  “I hate it here,” Cecily declared suddenly. “It is so confusing.”

  The maid shrugged sheepishly when Oscar and Tahlia looked at her.

  “What? It is. It is cold and crowded. While I will stay for as long as you need me, I won’t half be glad to get back home. It’s too noisy, and this house is too blasted big, that fog thing is awful. Not only that, but the streets are so over-crowded that going anywhere on foot is downright impossible.”

  “Don’t swear,” Oscar chided in his most fatherly manner.

  Cecily, who was only just entering her twenties, mumbled an apology. She made a valiant attempt to remember her place in the house, and lapsed into a stoic silence.

  It was difficult for Tahlia to chastise her given that her supposed butler was seated quite comfortably in a chair opposite her while they talked. Theirs was a most unusual arrangement indeed but, in the country there was little call for pomp and circumstance. The basis of the moral fibre of the aristocratic realms of London existed on manners, and social etiquette the majority of which Tahlia found wearisome at the best of times.

  In contrast, life the country was far less formal, especially with an energetic little boy in the house. Nobody had the time or the energy to bow or curtsey whenever they entered or left the house. Nor could they be bothered, and it didn’t matter to Tahlia one jot.

  “Cecily, I need you to get your shawl and come with me. I have to go to see the solicitor this morning. I intend to ask him to oversee the
sale of the house on my behalf, and arrange for the removal of my uncle’s belongings I don’t want. Once I have collected the papers Henry left with him for me, I can spend the next couple of days going through my uncle’s things and decide which items to keep. They can be parcelled up and taken back to Rutland with us. I also need to go to the bank and empty the safe deposit box. Then we are free to go home. It will take a few days to get back to Rutland. Overall, I don’t want to be away for any longer than two weeks in total. So, we need to get a move on if we hope to get through this lot before we go.” She waved toward the contents of the desk before them.

  “Going home can’t come a day too soon,” Cecily replied fervently.

  “What do you want to do with the diamonds? They can’t stay out on the desk like that for the world to see,” Oscar reminded her.

  “Put them in the safe for now,” Tahlia ordered.

  She parcelled both parcels back up in their original packaging. It wasn’t difficult to identify which set was which; the packaging of the nicer set was in the worst wrapping. Then, for the second time that morning she went in search of her shawl.

  “Come along, Cecily. I need you to chaperone me,” she called as she climbed the main staircase.

  A smile lit her face when she heard Cecily’s groan of discontent from behind her, but she didn’t slow her pace. Time was of the essence and, now that another problem had been dealt with, she was even more determined to deal with all of the others.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Later that morning, she climbed down from the carriage and studied the windows of the solicitor’s office. It looked formal and stuffy even from the outside; and slightly creepy when it was shrouded in the gloom of the smog filled morning.

  Tahlia turned to Cecily.

  “When we are in there you must remember that we are in London now. Everyone is required to adhere to a certain level of etiquette. The first and foremost requirement of which is that maids do not speak.”