An Unusual Bequest

by Mary Nichols

  But he had given her back her jewels. And taken them away again. She had meekly allowed him to ride off with them. Supposing he didn’t come back? Supposing he simply took the last, the very last, of her possessions and kept them for himself? She had only his word that he meant to sell them for her. How he would be laughing at her naïveté! The thought drained the blood from her face and made her stumble.

  He wasn’t like that, she scolded herself, as she regained her balance. She had looked into his eyes and seen only compassion; she had stood in his arms and he had comforted her. He had won the jewels at the gaming table and would have been entitled to keep them and had no need even to tell her of it. Instead he had brought them to her. He had asked her if she trusted him and she had said she did. She had been absolutely sure, when she spoke, that it was the truth. Why the doubts now? ‘Dear God, I hope and pray I was right to trust him,’ she murmured. ‘Otherwise we are undone.’

  She turned back to the girls, who were standing at the water’s edge, gazing out over the sea at a ship riding at anchor in the bay, trying to guess whence it came. ‘The Orient,’ Lizzie said. ‘It is loaded with silks and tea and spices to be sold in Ipswich.’

  ‘No, it’s a pirate ship,’ Fanny said. She liked to read adventure stories in which pirates and captured princesses figured largely.

  ‘Or smugglers,’ Lizzie said. ‘They are going to come into the bay when it gets dark and unload their contraband while we are asleep.’

  Charlotte smiled. It was good to hear her daughters chatting happily again. Soon, God willing, the last few weeks would be nothing but a bad dream. ‘Come, girls, we must go,’ she said, holding out her hands to them. ‘The tide is coming in and we don’t want to be caught out by it.’

  God willing, she repeated, as they made their way up the cliff path and back to Easterley Manor, a house, a roof over their heads, a source of sustenance, but no longer a home. God willing the nightmare would soon be over. ‘Stacey Darton, if you have an ounce of compassion, come back to me,’ she said to herself. ‘If you cannot love me, at least have mercy on me.’

  Stacey had every intention of returning, just as soon as his errand had been accomplished, and no intention whatsoever of selling Charlotte’s jewellery. He had known when he suggested it that he could not bring himself to do it. Instead he had ridden to Ipswich and taken the London mail from the Great White Horse, leaving Ivor at the inn to be picked up on his return.

  Luckily there were no incidents on the journey, no highwaymen, no broken wheels, no trees blown across the road and all the changes of horses and picking up of the mail went smoothly so that they arrived at the Spread Eagle in Gracechurch Street just before seven the following morning. The speed with which they had travelled precluded sleeping comfortably, but he was too fired up, his head too full of whirring thoughts to be able to do more than nod off now and again, only to be awakened at their next stop. As soon as the coach was at a standstill at its destination he was out of it and looking for a cab to take him to John Hardacre’s home in Piccadilly.

  ‘My lord,’ the lawyer greeted him when he had been shown into the breakfast room where John was sitting over ham and eggs and coffee. ‘I did not know you were in town.’

  ‘A flying visit, only. I am sorry to disturb you so early.’

  ‘Oh, you are not disturbing me. Will you join me?’ He rang for a servant to lay another place. ‘All is well at Malcomby Hall, I trust.’

  ‘As far as I know. I sent them my direction in case I should be needed urgently, but I have not been home since I saw you last. I have been staying at Easterley Manor.’

  ‘Good heavens! Why?’

  ‘Because of what you told me of your concern for Lady Hobart. I wanted to see for myself what was going on.’ He had rehearsed the answer to this question as he rode. ‘Hobart is a second cousin and, though the relationship is not close, I did not like the idea of him sullying the family name, even at a distance. And a lady in distress…’ He shrugged. ‘I could not ignore that.’

  John smiled; it was why he had told Stacey of his concern. The young man was a hard-headed soldier, not given to sentimentality, but he was also a chivalrous man who could not pass by and do nothing when he knew there might be someone needing help. He had a large measure of curiosity too. John had told him just enough to arouse it. ‘What happened?’

  The servant arrived with more hot dishes and a fresh pot of coffee and Stacey waited for him to go before answering. ‘He had the most evil collection of house guests it has been my misfortune to meet, all there to gamble. Hobart was in deep, very deep. He is a poor player and does not have the cool demeanour needed to deceive his opponents. I could read his expressions like a book and no doubt the others, who have known him longer, could do so too. He should never have sat at a gaming table.’

  ‘There you have it. It was why his father banished the young rakeshame and nearly ruined himself paying off his debts. So what was the outcome? I assume he lost.’

  ‘Everything. I believe even now the winners are stripping the house of everything valuable.’

  ‘I feared that might happen. And Lady Hobart. How is she?’

  ‘Almost breaking under the strain. Hobart even stole her jewellery and what little money she had and gambled that away.’

  ‘Good God! She must be got out of there at once. I will have to write to Lord Falconer.’

  ‘Lord Falconer? You mean old Falconer of Rickmansworth?’

  ‘Yes, Lady Hobart’s great-uncle, younger brother to her maternal grandfather. He came to the title when her grandfather died without a male heir. Did you not know that?’

  Stacey was taken aback. That Charlotte was a lady in the true sense of the word he had never doubted; that she came from so illustrious a family had not occurred to him. Such a one would, in his opinion, never have lowered herself to teach in school. How wrong he had been! And he had been so condescending, had taken liberties he never would have done had he known. But why had she never told him? ‘No, I did not,’ he said. ‘I knew she was a lady, that much is easily deduced, but I had no idea she was so well connected.’

  ‘I am surprised you never learned of it. It is hardly a secret.’

  Except from me, Stacey thought, and wondered why. ‘Why did she never apply to him when she found herself in straitened circumstances?’

  ‘I believe her mother was estranged from him. He is a stickler for protocol and proud that the Falconers can trace the family back to Henry the Eighth’s court and he heartily disapproved of her marrying Captain Delaney.’ He smiled a little. ‘Called him a no-good Irish sea captain.’

  ‘Was he?’

  ‘No, he was an honourable man and a baronet, went down with his ship at Trafalgar. His wife, Lady Hobart’s mother, died of a fever soon afterwards and then Lady Hobart lost her husband at Corunna. You did know that?’

  ‘Yes. Poor lady. The death of Lord Hobart must have seemed as if everyone was being taken from her. Is Lord Falconer likely to help her?’

  ‘Might, might not. He certainly said he never wanted to see his niece again. Age may have mellowed him, but it might have made him more obdurate.’

  He was tempted to rush straight off and confront Lord Falconer, make him see that it was his duty to acknowledge his great-niece, but decided that would not serve. The man would ask him what business it was of his, might not even admit him and that would be a waste of time. It would be better to stick to his original plan. ‘Then we cannot wait to find out. I persuaded her to trust me, which wasn’t easy since I was gambling too. I won her jewellery back for her and have told her I would sell it for her, so that she can rent a house. She means to start a school.’

  ‘Yes, she told me of that, but I fear the pieces are not very valuable, they will only fetch a modest amount.’

  ‘I guessed as much, but, as I do not intend to do as she asked, it does not matter.’

  ‘What will you do, then?’

  ‘Keep them safe for her and see that she has enough
money to achieve her goal,’ he said.

  ‘That is very generous of you, my lord, but do you think you are doing her any favours encouraging her? After all, teaching is hardly an occupation for a lady, you surely must agree.’

  Stacey pondered on this for less than a minute. ‘No, I don’t, and the lady herself evidently does not think so, or she would not have endured the insults of her brother-in-law’s guests. I believe the school is something she feels very strongly about.’

  ‘That does not make it right. It is one thing to teach as an act of charity, quite another to make a business of it.’

  ‘I know that. It is why I am here. I will help her, but it must appear to come from you. You are one of the executors to the late Lord Hobart’s will, are you not? You could make the money over to her and pretend it came from the inheritance, something you had previously overlooked.’

  ‘I did tell her I would approach the other trustees with a view to releasing some of her daughters’ legacy…’

  ‘And have you?’

  ‘Unfortunately it needs the consent of all three trustees and, though I have written to them, I have not yet had a reply from Lord Swindon, who is out of the country until late in the year. My main aim was not to fund a school, but to help her to live quietly and bring up her daughters until they came of age. I cannot believe that she would consider running a school if she were not in straitened circumstances.’

  ‘Then you cannot have seen her with the children as I have,’ he said. ‘She is so at ease with them, not lofty, but not indulgent either. She has them well disciplined. And they love her. She is just the sort of person I could entrust with Julia.’

  John laughed suddenly. ‘Oh, I see, you have a personal motive.’

  Stacey smiled. If that was what the lawyer wanted to believe, so be it. But even as he had been speaking, he knew what he had been saying about Charlotte was the truth. But if she was as dedicated as he said she was, how could he win her for himself? Did he really want to take on a dozen other children as well as Elizabeth and Frances? That was what it amounted to. How could you love the woman and not embrace her aspirations? How could you say you did not like children and let them swarm all over you? On the other hand, how could you let her struggle on alone, when she was determined to go ahead? ‘While we dither, she is in danger, and so are her children. What harm can it do to let her have her way, if only to set her free from Cecil Hobart and those two rogues he has brought to Easterley Manor? If it fails, there is no harm done, we will argue with her when that happens.’

  John, unable to stand out against Stacey’s persuasiveness, smiled. ‘Very well. If you have finished your breakfast, we can adjourn to the library and get down to business. I assume you mean to return as soon as it is concluded.’

  ‘Yes, tonight if possible. And I pray no harm has come to her while I have been away. I made her promise to go the parson if staying at the Manor became intolerable, but the sooner I return the better.’

  John concealed his smile this time; Stacey Darton had fallen in love and for that reason alone he would agree to do as he asked.

  Chapter Six

  Charlotte had expected Stacey back the following evening or the very latest the day after. After all, Ipswich was only a day’s ride away, but three days passed and he did not appear and she began to wonder if she had been right to trust him. How long did it take to sell a few trinkets? If Viscount Darton proved to be as big a mountebank as her brother-in-law and his two confederates, her inherent trust in the goodness of human nature was cast into doubt. She had always believed the best in everyone; had even tried to find excuses for Cecil when his father condemned him. Cecil was weak, the other two were evil, but she did not want to believe it was also true of Stacey Darton.

  He had been kind to her, kissed her, called her his dear, given her back her money, told her he wanted to help her. And she had fallen in love with him, longed to feel his arms about her again, to feel safe and warm and cherished. Not since Grenville had gone off to war had she felt like that. Her father-in-law had had great affection for her, she knew that, her children loved her, the servants respected her, the parson admired her, but none of that compared with the love of a man. Until Stacey had arrived, she had not realised what was missing and now she had, she felt the emptiness all the more. She wanted him, longed for him, desired him. Surely, surely, she was not such a bad judge of character as to love a rogue? But where was he? Why had he not come back? She kept telling herself anything could have happened to detain him and she was being far too impatient.

  With no help for it, she carried on with her housekeeping duties and because there were now fewer guests she was able to resume teaching in the village, which went part of the way to preventing her from brooding. And in the evening, while Cecil and the two men continued to gamble—though what Cecil was using for stakes she did not know—she sat in her room and made plans for her school, knowing they might never come to fruition, but doing it just the same. There was the house to be made ready and equipment bought, and she would need staff, not only servants but other teachers, specialists in their subjects, all of whom would expect good salaries. Was she being too ambitious? But if she could not offer everything a wealthy parent wanted for his daughter, how could she attract pupils? And what about the pupils? Where would she find those? Word of mouth would not be enough, she would have to advertise, discreetly, of course. And it all took time. And time was running out. Was it all a pipe dream? If Viscount Darton did not return, she feared it might be.

  She had been sitting at her escritoire, making notes, but now she put her quill down and stared into space. What if something dreadful had happened to him? Supposing he had been waylaid and the money he was bringing to her taken from him? There were frequent reports in the newspapers of highwaymen, footpads, out-of-work soldiers, disgruntled labourers, thieves of every description attacking and even murdering wayfarers for the sake of a few coins. She would not put it past Cecil to do that if he got wind of the Viscount’s errand. Had he done it already? Was that what he was gambling with? But if he had, Stacey would have come back and exacted revenge. Unless he was too injured. Or dead. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle the groan that threatened to become a full-blown wail of anguish and told herself firmly she was being fanciful.

  Unable to sit still, she began pacing the room and when that did not serve to calm her, she went downstairs. She would take the men some more wine and perhaps she might learn what Cecil was using for a stake. The other two might have relented over taking his vouchers. After going to the cellar and extracting the last two bottles of Burgundy, she made her way to the dining room, where the men had been ensconced since dinner. She stopped and hesitated outside the door, debating with herself whether it was such a good idea, after all.

  ‘Hobart, my old friend, you are dished up.’ This was Augustus Spike’s voice. ‘Now admit it.’

  ‘The next hand…’

  Sir Roland laughed. ‘It is always the next hand with you, Cecil, is it not? There will be no next hand, not now we have this pile of brick and stone and everything in it, including the coach and horses, and the lady.’

  Charlotte gasped and moved closer to the door.

  ‘The lady?’ Cecil asked. ‘Roly, you surely did not mean it when you said you’d marry her?’

  ‘Why not? You have gambled her daughters’ inheritance as well as your own. How else am I to get my hands on it?’

  ‘She won’t have it.’

  ‘Then how do you propose to settle your dues?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll find the blunt somehow.’

  ‘Cecil, old man, what happens if the lady were to meet with an accident, an untimely end?’ Augustus asked. ‘Wouldn’t you be her bratlings’ guardian?’

  ‘I suppose I would, but what of it? She’s young, youngish anyway, and healthy. And what would I do with a brace of infants?’

  ‘Oh, you could be the loving uncle for a couple of years, couldn’t you? Then who knows what
might happen?’

  Charlotte, glued to the door, stuffed her fist in her mouth to stop herself crying out. She was in terrible danger, more than she had ever imagined. The temptation was to rush in and confront them, let them know she had heard every word, but she held herself in check. If they thought she knew about it, they would not hesitate to do away with her and what would happen to her girls then?

  ‘No.’ Cecil sounded more vehement than she would have expected. ‘I may be no great shakes as a gambler and not averse to a bit of humbuggery, but I draw the line at that. I don’t fancy preaching at Tyburn Cross.’

  ‘Accidents do happen.’

  ‘I won’t have anything to do with it. It’s too risky.’

  ‘And it would take too long to come to fruition.’ It was Augustus, speaking quietly, as if all they had said so far had been leading up to this. ‘And, if Darton was telling the truth about his lordship’s finances, not worth the candle. There is another way for you to come about.’

  ‘Go on,’ Cecil urged him warily.

  ‘We, that is, Roly and I, have an interest in a certain cargo ship. It comes and goes, you understand, and though it is fully laden, it cannot put into port.’ He paused before adding, ‘You do understand me, I hope?’

  ‘Contraband.’

  ‘Right, my friend. But things have become a little hot of late. The Coast Blockade is suddenly a mite too efficient and we cannot put in at our usual spot at Dungeness. Your little cove, being isolated as it is, will make an ideal landing place. And this house, with its deep cellars, a fine warehouse.’

  ‘Oh, I see. It has been your purpose all along. When I told you about my inheritance, you seized your chance.’