by Linda Sole
‘I am sorry for your loss. It must grieve you to lose your husband?’
‘Yes, but not in the way you might think. I shall tell you later – for now I must think of him…’
Madeline sat before her dressing mirror while Constance brushed her long hair. It had been washed and perfumed and the comtesse was now dressed in her own clothes, a single row of pearls about her white throat.
‘I have missed this,’ Madeline said, closing her eyes as Constance soothed over her hair. ‘It makes me feel safe and cared for…it always did even when the comte…’ She shuddered. ‘How did he die?’
‘He was ill for some weeks. The physician would not say exactly but I think it was some foul disease he picked up from a brothel. After you went, he took to frequenting them until he fell ill.’
‘And you nursed him? Why did you not run away and leave him to rot?’
‘He was cruel to you but he was still a human being and he needed help. None of the others would nurse him because of his temper and his incontinence – so I stayed. After he died I wasn’t sure what to do but I knew that if I abandoned the house the comte’s cousin would take everything.’
‘He might not have found the gold. My husband told no one where it was hidden, but I watched him and saw what he did. I could have stolen it when I left but I was too afraid. He had tried to kill me that night.’
‘Heloise was sure he had killed you.’
‘He almost did but then he drew back and I ran away. I dare not take anything that he gave me lest he had me brought back as a thief. A wife’s things are not her own while her husband lives.’ Madeline shuddered. ‘I shall never marry again. I shall sell everything in Paris and go away – will you come with me?’
‘I must go to England first, but perhaps I shall return. You must tell me where to find you, but I have to find Jonathan’s father and tell him how brave his son was.’
‘Yes, of course. Now that I know your story I understand. I shall give you money, Constance. I will give you enough to take your husband’s body with you on the ship, money to live on for a while and your fare back to France. Come to me, my dear friend, and we shall live together. What do we need with men? They are ever the betrayers – do you not agree?’
‘Yes, perhaps. Some men are not worthy of the name,’ Constance replied. ‘I shall accept what you give me, because I must take Jonathan to his father and then…if I am not wanted I shall return to France and you.’
‘Then go with my blessing,’ Madeline said. ‘When you return I may not be in Paris – but I shall leave word with the priest.’
‘Then I shall find you.’
‘One thing…I should like to take Heloise with me. I know you had decided to take her with you, but I need someone I can trust and she has agreed. Pierre will take you to the ship and see you safe aboard, but he is my servant and I need him to help me.’
‘Yes, if it is your wish…’ Constance felt oddly alone for she had expected to undertake her journey with friends and it would be harder without them, but Madeline needed them too. Heloise had always been her servant. Pierre had come with Constance to the comtesse’s house but after that he had worked for her until she ran away. His loyalty must be split between them, but she was perfectly capable of managing alone now that Renard was dead. ‘They will do better with you now that you are back.’
‘Yes,’ Madeline ran her fingers over the rich velvet gown. ‘I am back and we shall dine in the parlour, as always. I hope Heloise has prepared a good dinner. You know that I am partial to fish in wine sauce, especially crayfish and lobster.’
Constance sighed inwardly. She had hesitated to spend the comte’s money but Madeline intended to enjoy every last franc of it now that it was hers. Of course she had the right, but there was something a little unseemly in her pleasure, especially as she knew that Constance was in mourning.
Constance had promised to return but she was not certain of the future. If she could find a place for herself she might remain in England. She had Jonathan’s will, though she was reluctant to use it. He had been her husband for such a short time and she felt it would be wrong to take money for caring for him while he was ill.
No, she would tell his family the truth and then let them decide what should be done. If they cast her out she would make her own way…
Chapter Eleven
‘Your father would have wanted me to protect you,’ Pierre said as he waited to see her on board her ship in Calais. ‘The comtesse commands me to her – but I could ignore her orders and come to England.’
‘I had planned to take both you and Heloise,’ Constance said. ‘But I may not be able to pay you, Pierre…’ She saw his impatient shake of the head and smiled. ‘I know you would serve me for nothing, as you have for months, but that is not fair to you. Please go to Sister Helene and tell her you saw me safe to the ship. I know she will worry.’
‘Sister Helene is grateful for all you did, which is more than the other one. Had it not been for you she would have had nothing, yet now she has it all and gives you but a few coins for your journey.’
‘Hush, Pierre. I could not have expected more. Madeline is the comtesse. Her husband’s fortune belongs to her, not me. I shall return to England and then…’ She sighed for she did not know what she would do with the rest of her life.
‘If his family will do nothing for you, you should seek out your father’s family and ask them for help.’
‘My father has no family.’
‘He had a brother. His brother is Sir Peter Hatherstone and he lives in Kent. They quarrelled over a woman and never spoke again, but I know Sir Peter still lives.’
‘Even if he does I doubt he would wish to see me on his doorstep,’ Constance said. ‘I shall make my own way if I can.’
‘Heloise asked me to tell you she was sorry.’
‘Why should she be sorry? She is French and has always worked for the comtesse’s family. I did not expect her to accompany me once Madeline returned.’
‘I think she meant something else. She said something about having destroyed papers that belonged to you…papers in the room that Englishman used when he stayed with you – not your husband, the marquis.’
‘In Moraven’s room?’ Heloise took papers and destroyed them? Constance shook her head. ‘I do not know if there was a letter – but he had given me a draft on his bank for ten thousand pounds. When I looked for it, it had gone. I thought he must have changed his mind and taken it back.’
‘That stupid woman. She cannot read and knew not what she did – she had no right to touch your things.’
‘Heloise thought I was well rid of him. It does not matter. I would have taken a few guineas had he left them – but it was too much. Tell her not to fret. She did not know what the bank draft was – but was there more than one paper?’
‘I think there was also a letter.’
Constance closed her eyes briefly. ‘I wish she had not destroyed it. I should have liked to know what it said – but it is done. I must forget it and move on.’
The bell had sounded for passengers to go aboard. Constance touched her servant’s hand. ‘Take care of yourself, Pierre. I shall not forget you.'
‘If you are friendless in England return to France and I will take care of you.’
‘Thank you, my friend. I must go.’
Constance left him and joined the other ladies and gentlemen boarding the ship. Some of the ladies looked at her oddly, but since she was dressed modestly they took her for a servant and ignored her. Had she worn her better clothes they would have thought her shameless to travel alone. It was better to be thought a servant than a fast hussy.
Standing on deck, Constance waved to her servant. He stood watching her as the ship weighed anchor and began to move out towards the sea. Constance waited for a while before going below to the tiny cabin she would share with another young woman, who was probably a maidservant. As they gained high water, she saw another ship pass them on its way into the harbour. A man
stood on the deck looking toward the shore. Something about him seemed familiar and for a moment her heart beat rapidly. Could it be Moraven? Had he returned to France to find her?
The wild hope was gone in a moment. He’d left her more than a month since and sent no word. Why should he return for her? He had advised her to marry Jonathan and he’d left her without a word…and yet perhaps he had left a message for her in the letter Heloise had stolen?
Her cheeks were suddenly wet. While Jonathan lived she’d managed to keep her heartbreak at bay, caring for him, pitying him and making his last days as happy as she could. He had been smiling when he left this life so perhaps she had succeeded.
Would his father be prepared to listen to her? Would he be glad to know that his son had been a fine brave man – or would he blame her for Jonathan’s death?
She was uncertain of her reception, but by bringing Jonathan’s body back, she had done all she could. Pierre had helped her with the journey in France, but when she arrived in England she would have to manage alone.
‘She left for England yesterday?’ Moraven stared at the nun in dismay. ‘I found the house closed but I thought she might still be in Paris?’
‘The comtesse returned and claimed her fortune. She has put the house up for sale and taken herself off to the south somewhere. You know that Constance married the young milord?’
Moraven’s jaw tightened. ‘Has she gone with him?’
‘He died three days ago. She had his body embalmed and received permission to take his coffin back to England, to his father.’
‘Damn!’ Moraven scowled. ‘I came to tell her that Lord South has died of a sudden heart attack. His estate should pass to his son – but for the moment his uncle, the Earl of Summerton, has charge of it.’
‘Then Constance will take her husband’s body to the Earl I dare say.’
‘The earl is a bad tempered man, worse than his elder brother ever knew how to be. I do not think Constance will be welcomed into his family.’
‘I think she did not expect it, my lord. All she wanted was to tell her husband’s father that his son was a brave man.’
‘Do you expect her to return?’
‘She was not sure what she ought to do. The comtesse has offered her a home, but Constance seemed reluctant to take it. She has very little money but perhaps she will find her own family in England.’
‘Why has she no money?’ Moraven’s expression hardened. ‘I left her a draft on my bank – unless she was too proud to use it. Besides, Jonathan must have provided for her.’
‘There is a will but he was not able to transfer funds from England. Constance has only what the comtesse gave her – and that was hardly more than her wages for the past year.’
‘Damn the woman!’ He saw the nun’s look and apologised. ‘I was speaking of the comtesse. Has she no idea of what she owes to Constance?’
‘Constance thought she was annoyed because she borrowed her gowns and jewels to attend card parties. She may regret having been less than generous but for the moment she is enjoying her new wealth.’
‘Selfish bitch.’ Once again he was forced to apologise. ‘Forgive me. I am angry for Constance’s sake.’
‘The comtesse suffered at her husband’s hands and I believe she had a hard time after she left him. We must make allowances for her, my lord. I am certain that Constance understands.’
‘There was a ship sailing for England as we arrived yesterday. If I return by the next available sailing, I shall not be far behind. Pray God I find her before she lands in trouble. Jonathan will have told her where to find his family. If I am fortunate I may find her there.’
‘I asked her why she did not wait for you to return but she said you left without a word and…’
‘Without a word? I left her a letter, telling her where to reach me if she needed help.’ He scowled. ‘Damn the old woman. I dare say I know what happened to my letter.’
If Heloise had hidden or destroyed his letter she might also have taken the bank draft, for it had still been on the dressing chest when he left. Suddenly, Moraven had an icy feeling at the nape of his neck. What would Constance do alone in England with no friends or family if the earl refused to take her in?
He had not known Jonathan’s father well but he knew the earl and the man was not someone he cared to associate with. Moraven thought him honest but cold and hard, a man who would not give a penny to a beggar. If he thought Constance an adventuress he might have her arrested or throw her out without a penny – especially since his brother’s fortune would come to him now that Jonathan was dead. The estate would be entailed but as Jonathan’s widow, Constance ought to inherit her husband’s personal money.
Moraven’s mouth hardened. He would pay Summerton a visit. If Constance wanted nothing from him personally, at least he could make sure that she inherited what was due to her.
He took his farewell of the nun and left her house. Soon he would be on his way back to England. If he had learned one thing since leaving Constance, it was that his life would be nothing without her. She haunted his dreams and his waking thoughts. He had wondered if he could love her, but if this tortured feeling of despair was anything to go by he loved her more than he’d ever thought himself capable.
‘Constance,’ he muttered as he strode towards the hostelry. ‘God forgive me for my jealous pride. I should never have spoken to you that way – never have left you without making sure you knew how much I cared…’
What would he do if he had lost her? No, it could not be. He would find her wherever she was and once he had her, he would never let her go again.
Constance stepped down from the carrier’s wagon. It was hardly a dignified way to arrive at her father-in-law’s house, but it was the only way she could afford to transport both herself and her husband’s body. She had had difficulty in finding someone to transport the coffin from Dover. Despite having all the paperwork in order, she had been met with sullen looks and shaken heads. Her accent was slightly French even when she spoke English, which she hadn’t realised but it made people look at her askance. They were suspicious and most carriers had refused to have anything to do with her.
However, she had at last managed to find someone to bring her here. Looking about her now, she got down, instructing the carrier to stay where he was until she returned.
‘Don’t be long, missus. I reckon as folks like this won’t want this ‘ere cart parked out ‘ere fer long.’
‘No, certainly not. My husband’s coffin must be taken into the house until he can be interred in the family crypt.’
The carrier stared at her but said nothing. He’d hardly spoken all the way here and she thought he suspected her of having made a mistake once he’d seen where they were. Jonathan’s home was large and magnificent but she was still wearing the clothes she’d travelled in and they did not resemble the apparel normally worn by a lady of quality.
A woman dressed in black answered her knock at the door. She eyed Constance up and down and then sniffed.
‘It’s back door for the likes of you.’
‘I must see the earl,’ Constance said. ‘I have brought Lord South’s body home. My husband must be given a proper burial in the family crypt. I have all the papers and proof of…’
‘What is it, Maisie?’
A very grand looking butler came to the door and looked down his nose at Constance. ‘What is that wagon doing out in the courtyard? Goods must be delivered to the back.’
‘She says it’s Lord Jonathan’s body.’
‘I sent word from Paris several days ago that I was coming. Please tell the earl that I have brought his son’s body home.’
The butler frowned. ‘And who would you be, miss?’
‘I am Jonathan’s wife,’ Constance said. ‘I know my appearance is stained but I have not stopped to change since we left France. I wanted to speak to my husband’s father.’
‘Earl South died more than a week ago,’ the butler said and frowned. ‘You�
�d best come in, miss. If your papers bear you out, the Earl of Summerton will speak to you on his return.’
‘It hardly matters about me – but Jonathan’s body must be carried to his room or the church so that he can be interred where he belongs, with his family. I want nothing for myself.’
The butler’s manner changed, becoming slightly more respectful as he stood back to allow her inside. ‘I shall have his lordship’s coffin taken to the chapel, miss – my lady. You will come in and wait in the parlour until the earl returns.’
‘May I not have a room where I can at least wash and change my gown?’
‘Very well.’ He turned to the maid who had answered the door. ‘Show this young woman to the blue guestroom and then take some hot water up to her. You’ll be wanting something to eat, my lady?’
‘Yes, please. Just some tea and bread and butter if you please. Could someone pay the carrier two shillings? I paid him for bringing us here but I have no more silver.’
‘I shall see to it,’ the butler nodded. ‘Please remain in your room until the earl returns.’
Constance bit back an angry retort. The butler appeared to think she was about to steal the family silver but if her letter had not been received it was understandable that her reception would not be exactly warm.
Maisie led the way upstairs and into a wing at the side of the main building. She looked at Constance curiously as she opened the door for her to enter.
‘Are you really his lordship’s wife?’
‘Yes, I am. I know this is what he would have wanted – to lie in his family’s crypt.’
‘How did he die, miss – I mean your ladyship?’
‘An evil man who was trying to abduct me shot him. Lord South was a very brave man and he saved me from a terrible fate. I nursed him for some weeks but he was very ill and died peacefully.’
‘It’s a pity his father didn’t know the truth. He broke his heart after Lord Jonathan left. I’ve glad you’ve brought him back, miss…whoever you are.’