by May Burnett
What a total idiot he had been, to go straight back and report his findings to that corrupt windbag. He would not have lasted a month working there. Not even a week … was an utter lack of integrity the prerequisite for a career in the Home Office? How stupid to think that evidence of a crime by an Earl influential in political circles would be followed up and punished, like that of some lesser mortal! The fact that Ormesby and Colville represented opposing parties seemed to make no difference. He should have heeded Roger’s warning that something about the whole situation was off.
Ormesby clearly would not begin any official investigation, as Thomas had hoped. Instead, Thomas had put Nell in greater peril.
What if Ormesby guessed that Thomas was hiding the missing heiress? At the very thought cold fear gripped him and his breath hitched. Unlike the people in Chatterham, Lord Ormesby knew his real name, and his connections; he could easily find out the Seymour family’s direction in Yorkshire. He probably would not think of searching there right away, but it would occur to him sooner or later.
No use wrapping it in clean linen – Thomas had made a thorough botch of it. Instead of reporting to Ormesby and telling him anything at all, he should first have consulted Roger, Uncle James and Uncle George, who had better insight into the way these political minds worked. They were honourable men, and would never be as cynical and venal as Ormesby, but they should be able to advise him, even now, how best to recover from this blunder.
Given Lord Ormesby’s threat to talk directly to Lord Colville, Thomas no longer felt bound by his promise not to divulge where he had first heard of the Colville affair. Loyalty to the lady he hoped to marry had to trump any other consideration.
What he most wanted to do was to race back to Yorkshire, to Nell, at breakneck speed – so fast no threat could possibly overtake him – and instantly remove her to some hidden location, before Ormesby and Colville could catch up with her. But it was late afternoon already – it would have to wait till tomorrow. He was expected for dinner at Amberley House. He would seek his relatives’ advice, tell them all about his situation and ask their help to reinstate Nell as Lady Marian Colville.
Thomas could not help wishing it were unnecessary, that Nell had merely been the modest widow she had first appeared. Then he could woo and wed her without appearing a fortune hunter to the world. Should he have waited with his declaration until she was safely restored to her position? Immured in a girls’ academy, she had not had any chance to meet other young men. A strict view might consider that he was taking advantage of her lack of alternatives. On the other hand, Thomas could offer Nell his sincere affection and loyalty, and if he was not mistaken, she was cautiously interested. She could get rid of him with a single word, if she decided they would not suit.
Though he could not depart that day, he would send an urgent letter ahead, with a warning to be careful. Even better, two letters – to Nell herself, and to Amelia. With that added precaution, one night’s delay should not make any great difference.
Chapter 13
“Hello, Thomas,” Lord Amberley greeted his godson as he arrived in his best evening clothes for the evening’s dinner party. The stand-up collar, starched to imminent danger of breaking, was even higher than the one he had worn for the appointment in the Home Office. “Haven’t seen you around for a while. How are your affairs progressing? Should I have a word with Ormesby, to make him speed up your appointment? I had not thought it would take this long.”
“Thank you, Uncle George,” Thomas said, “but please do not bother. I saw Lord Ormesby myself earlier today, and nothing would prevail upon me to work under him.”
“Oho! What happened?” Uncle James, a glass of whisky in his hand, regarded him with mild surprise. “You had a falling out with Lord Ormesby before you even received your appointment? It is not like you to get on your high horse like that.”
“No great loss, I never thought it the best career for you,” Roger chimed in. He was wearing a white orchid in his lapel, a daring choice.
“How long are you staying in London, Thomas?” Lady Amberley asked. “I am giving a ball next Thursday, will you be able to attend? Roger told me you were out of town, or I would have sent you a card already.”
“Thank you, Aunt Marianne. I am disappointed that I shall have to miss it. Urgent affairs require me to leave town early tomorrow morning, and I do not know when I shall be back.”
“Urgent affairs?” James Ellsworthy raised a chestnut brow. “Have you taken some other employment, rather than with the Home Office? Without telling us?”
“No, this is a personal problem – very ticklish – I was hoping that you and Uncle George and Aunt Marianne would be able to advise me how to go on, before I left. But your other guests will arrive any moment. Maybe after dinner, if you have time?”
“Certainly,” both his uncles assured him, and Roger grinned at him. “Even if you do not ask my advice, cousin, you shall have it free of charge.”
“How vexing of you,” the Countess complained, “now I shall wonder all through dinner what your urgent affair can be.”
“Where is Aunt Charlotte?” Thomas asked. “And young Amy?” The Amberley’s younger daughter Lady Amelia was named after his grandmother, just like his own sister. To avoid confusion, she was generally called Amy in the family.
“They are attending a concert, but should be arriving any moment, with Violet in tow. We are also expecting Minerva and Henry.”
“Maybe Uncle Henry will also be willing to advise me,” Thomas said hopefully. “My problem has legal aspects.”
“I am sure he will be interested, since it concerns you,” Roger said. Their Aunt Minerva’s husband, Sir Henry Beecham, was a reformer and radical M.P.. He had been a successful solicitor earlier in his career, and still practised his profession when time permitted.
Roger drew Thomas a little apart as the Countess and Earl positioned themselves near the doorway to receive their guests. “I want to hear every detail of your pickle. I knew I should not have let you travel all alone to such a dangerous place as that seaside village, to hunt vicious ants.”
Thomas had to smile. “I am very glad I did go there, but I should have heeded your warning about the Home Office.” New arrivals joined them before he could say more, and presently they sat down thirty-two, the usual size of Lady Amberley’s dinner parties. Thomas found himself placed between young Elizabeth Durwent and his cousin Violet, Roger’s twin.
“Why are you wasting your time with social engagements, rather than having adventures?” Violet asked him when Elizabeth was claimed by her other neighbour. “If I had your advantages, Thomas, nothing would keep me here in London.”
“I am departing for Yorkshire early tomorrow, and busy enough,” he replied. “One can have adventures in England too, you know.”
“If so, I have yet to find them.” She sipped from her white wine. “This country is utterly boring, and the men are even more so.”
Thomas grinned, knowing her too well to take offense. “Do you say that to all your dinner partners, Vi?”
“Of course not. You are family, and I do not need to govern my tongue with you.”
“Well, all I can say is good luck in finding a man who does not bore you. It would serve you right if he thought you spoiled, and wanted nothing to do with you.”
She shrugged. “Plenty of fish in the sea.”
“I disagree. When you find the person who truly arrests your attention, others become irrelevant. All that matters then is pleasing the one.”
She looked at him, astonished. “Since when are you an expert on this subject, Thomas? Don’t tell me you have finally gone and fallen in love! Not you too, after Monique and Verena have already succumbed! Next Roger will be lovesick over some pallid twit of a debutante. Say it is not so!”
“It gets us all, sooner or later,” Thomas replied. “You will not remain exempt forever, I expect, and neither will Roger. I should hope he has better sense than to fall for a twit of any
kind, debutante or not.”
“I know.” Violet cast an affectionate look at her twin, who was charming Lady Pell further up the table. “The miracle is that he has not yet fallen, since he is so much in demand. At least being the heir to the Earldom has not gone to his head.”
“Heir presumptive, and only after your father,” Thomas pointed out. “He would be a fool to allow that prospect to decide what he does with his life.”
“Yet when he could be exploring the Congo or Guyana, discovering new species, he sits here chatting at the dinner table.” She could not hide a note of bitterness. “Truly the men of this family waste their opportunities.”
“Not everyone is as eager to succumb to yellow fever as you, Vi,” Thomas said mildly. “What if he went to some jungle to please you, and was eaten by cannibals? How would you feel then?”
“I don’t want him to go to please me – I really want to go myself.”
“Of course you do,” Thomas replied, unsurprised. “You will have to marry an explorer willing to take you to those places. With your looks and dowry, I wonder that you have not already done so.”
Violet scowled. “Would you believe, Thomas, that the two explorers I have met socially were as boring as the average Englishman, if not more so?” She sounded disgruntled. “Sir Clive Relling told me that the wilder parts of the world were far too dangerous for the fairer sex, and Mr. Eglemont, who nearly died on that Arctic expedition, said he would rather shoot himself in the head than allow a lady to undertake such risks. The truth is, they do these things to feel manly, and don’t want to share either the fun or the glory.”
“I am sorry to hear that.” She was probably right. That a man would risk his life in dangerous expeditions did not mean he could appreciate a young lady as unconventional as Violet Ellsworthy.
Elizabeth Durwent had caught the end of their conversation. “Violet, if you are going to wait for a man to take you, you’ll be old and grey before you find him,” she advised, speaking across Thomas. A short, pretty brunette with great charm and a huge dowry, she would undoubtedly be one of the most sought-after debutantes of the next Season. Her mother allowed her to attend selected events like this dinner to gather social experience and poise, but from what Thomas observed the girl was already confident enough. “If you want to go, just do it! Hire some ex-soldier for protection, and an adventurous woman as a companion. You are of age. What are you waiting for? I shall go to your memorial service, after you succumb to some fever or attack, and console your mourners that you died doing what you loved.”
This brutal conclusion startled a laugh out of Violet. “Bess, are you setting up as a dispenser of advice to your elders?”
“I am only following in Mother’s footsteps,” Elizabeth said blithely. Her mother was the author of several volumes of ‘Maxims for Young Gentlewomen,’ still in print as popular gifts for girls. She had not put her own name to these works, officially from the pen of ‘a Lady.’
“Are you looking forward to your Season?” Thomas asked Elizabeth. Poor Nell had been slaving away in that boarding school at Elizabeth’s age, unable to enjoy the advantages of her birth and fortune. Though maybe it was not too late?
“Yes, immensely,” Elizabeth replied. “Verena advised me to enjoy it as much as I can the first time, because by the second season it becomes much less interesting and even tedious.”
“I miss Verena,” Violet said. The older daughter of Lord and Lady Amberley had married for love two years earlier, and lived far away. Lady Verena was close to Roger and Violet in age, and despite a contentious childhood rivalry, the two girls had been presented together. Everyone had wondered which of the two cousins would marry first, – Violet was prettier, but Verena had more vivacity as well as her courtesy title. By the time Lady Verena found her mate, both girls had rejected so many suitors that people had stopped counting.
“We all miss her,” Thomas said, and Elizabeth nodded. “I imagine her parents most of all.”
“Roger said that you are no longer interested in a career in government service?” Violet asked Thomas. Elizabeth cocked her head attentively.
“Yes, I am glad I came to my senses before actually accepting an appointment,” Thomas confessed. “Having to obey someone you do not necessarily admire or respect would not be pleasant for long.”
“Yet that is the fate of all too many women,” Violet said.
“I know, and pity them. At least rich girls like you and Elizabeth can take your pick, and make sure that whoever you marry won’t bully you.”
Violet looked doubtful. “One can still be taken in. If I am about to marry a man who secretly gambles or spends his money on loose women, would you warn me, Thomas?”
“Of course. Your father would not let you marry such a fellow anyway, Vi.”
“As Elizabeth just pointed out, I am of age. He could not prevent me.”
“But you have too much good sense to make such a stupid mistake,” Elizabeth said. “There are more hidden defects, mother tells me, that you may not discover until it is too late, especially if you marry in haste.”
“I hope she does not speak from personal experience,” Thomas said drily.
“Maybe she does,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully, “not with Father, who is a perfect lamb; but she was married before, and not happily, I think.”
“At least she got a second chance to marry well,” Violet observed. “That is more than most women do. Men are more likely to survive their wives, than the other way round.”
“I would not say that,” Thomas protested, “there are more elderly widows than old widowers, it seems to me. Though neither is a fate to be envied. I would not like to survive my spouse for long, if I was already old myself.”
“You don’t even have a spouse,” Violet said. “Or are you hoping to change your status any time soon?”
“If I do, you will be notified through a notice in the Morning Post, along with the rest of the world.”
Elizabeth grinned at Violet. “I wager five pounds that we shall read that announcement within the next three months.”
“Done,” Violet replied. “Even if Thomas is in love, there is many a slip betwixt the lips and the cup, isn’t there? Not that I hope for your discomfiture, Cousin. In fact, I wish you luck.”
“So do I,” Elizabeth added, winking.
“Thank you, ladies.” Thomas knew he was getting off lightly.
Chapter 14
It was shortly after midnight when the number of persons left in Lady Amberley’s salon dwindled to the immediate family, minus Amy, who had retired to bed – to read the latest scandalous French novel, if Thomas was any judge. The guests had gradually taken their leave after partaking of coffee or tea after dinner, and listening to musical performances. Alerted by her brothers, Lady Minerva had asked her husband Henry to stay behind for an impromptu family conference.
Thomas looked around the circle. Lord and Lady Amberley, Uncle James, Aunt Charlotte with their twins Roger and Violet, Aunt Minerva and Uncle Henry.
“We are private now,” Uncle James said, “so open your budget, young Thomas, and tell us the worst.”
Thomas lost no time describing the task Lord Ormesby had set him; his discovery of the mysterious Mrs. Smith in Chatterham; her true identity, and that he had left her with his family at Yardley Manor. They listened attentively, with no more than one interruption every other sentence. He ended with an account of his second meeting with the Undersecretary, earlier that same day, and the latter’s threat to warn Lord Colville.
“Oh dear,” Lady Amberley said when he concluded, and exchanged glances with Charlotte, her sister-in-law. “What a coil! You certainly have your work cut out for you, Thomas.”
“I am posting back up to Yorkshire early tomorrow, and will help Nell – Lady Marian, that is – to hide more carefully; or at least watch over her. But I very much fear that by reporting to Lord Ormesby I may have increased the danger of her situation, and made it even harder to reclaim her fo
rtune once she is of age.”
“A very pretty problem,” Sir Henry said contemplatively. “I have crossed swords with Colville politically, before he inherited and was elevated to the Lords. It would give me great pleasure to help confound the man. Bring the young lady to me when she is ready to reclaim her fortune.”
“I am only superficially acquainted with Colville,” Lord Amberley said, frowning. “While I have never much liked him, I find it hard to believe that he would treat a young girl like that, or fake her death to steal her fortune. He would be ruined if he were found out, and as long as his niece was still alive, the odds of that happening must be high. Can it be that you were taken in by the invention of a daring adventuress and impostor, Thomas? All you believe you know about the matter comes from that one source. I wonder what is more improbable – that one of my fellow peers would engage in reckless crime and subterfuge, or that an unknown young schoolteacher would invent a story by which she stands to gain great wealth?”
“I do not share your confidence in the average peer’s moral probity,” James said drily to his brother, while Thomas was sputtering at this attack on the absent Nell. “Thomas would not be taken in so easily.”
“She will have to prove her identity beyond doubt,” Sir Henry pointed out, “first to her solicitor –and only if she can present proof will the case proceed to court, or at least to negotiations with Colville. If the Earl can be convinced that he has no chance, he may simply yield up the fortune. Let us proceed on the hypothesis that this young lady is indeed Lady Marian.”
“You may be biased by your dislike of Colville and all he stands for, Henry,” Lord Amberley objected. “I vote we take nothing for granted at this stage.”
“We should certainly investigate further,” James agreed with his older brother. “Mr. Hendrickson has often helped us solve problems like this over the last twenty years and more. Though he has talked of retiring lately, I think I can interest him in such an intriguing mystery as the identity of the corpse recently interred in Colville Hall.”