Secret Heiress

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by Shelley, Lillian;


  “Ah, Lord Byron,” sighed Aurelia. “Such a handsome young man and such beautiful verses. If I were younger, I would be in danger of losing my heart. But you, my dear Caroline, I believe, are not an admirer?”

  “I must admit that I prefer the works of Miss Austen, but I know that in not greatly admiring Lord Byron both for his verses and his face I have been in the minority. But Aurelia, surely you do not admire his treatment of his wife and child. And now he has left England under such questionable circumstances …”

  “Ah, so unfortunate,” answered Aurelia, adding, “the latest on dit is even more scandalous than his escapades with Lady Caroline Lamb. To think they involve his sister!” She broke off, embarrassed.

  At that moment the main courses were served and the ladies devoted themselves to the ham and turbot embellished with various side dishes which were set before them. Cousin Aurelia, whose appetite, despite her gaunt and bony appearance, was hearty, ate all that was served her.

  “My dear Caroline, you are barely touching the ham,” she remarked. “Is it not to your liking?”

  “I don’t seem to be very hungry tonight,” she replied. “I am a bit preoccupied.”

  “May one ask what is on your mind?” asked Aurelia in the arch tone which Caroline disliked. “Or is it a private matter?”

  “No, it is not at all private,” said Caroline. “In fact, it involves you. I am thinking of taking a house in London for the Season.”

  “In London! My dear Caroline!” exclaimed her cousin. “You must know that I have hoped you would do so for such a long time! You must take a house in Mount Street or one of the other very fashionable locations. It is of the utmost importance that you establish yourself in the first stare of elegance. Once it is known that you are of good family and an heiress as well, it will not be long before you are, as they say, ‘all the rage.’ Oh, there is so much to do before we leave!”

  Caroline listened patiently until Aurelia was finished. She studied her hands for a moment before speaking.

  “It is not my intention to seek lodgings in the most fashionable location,” she said. “I would like to find a house in a quiet, genteel district.”

  “A quiet, genteel district!” exclaimed Aurelia. “You must be funning, my love. Such a move would be fatal. You would be marked as a provincial with no ton.”

  “Cousin Aurelia, I am a provincial. I have no desire to make my mark in Society. I go to London to see London. I am eager to see the Houses of Parliament and the Elgin Marbles and other objects of interest.”

  “The Elgin Marbles! But they are in the British Museum! You cannot mean to go to museums and such in London! No matter how great an heiress you are, you cannot wish to be known as a bluestocking. Even the wealthy Miss Chessington could not survive such a reputation.”

  “Then you may put your mind at rest, Aurelia,” said Caroline. “No one will even know that I am Miss Chessington. I intend to go under a different name; perhaps Chessley or something of the like. It must not be too dissimilar or I shall forget to answer to it.”

  “Caroline!” shrieked Aurelia. “You cannot mean that! Oh, my word, what is to be done? If only your poor parents were here! Why would you do such a vulgar thing? If it became known, you would be an outcast! No one would receive you. And why? Pray, tell me why?” She brought her vinaigrette, never far from her side, to her nose as she moaned.

  “Please calm yourself, Aurelia. I do not mean to distress you, but I do not intend to go to London to put myself on the block or to sell myself to the highest bidder.” There was another moan. “If I go under an assumed name, no one will be aware of my fortune. If I meet someone who cares for me without my fortune, he shall certainly care for me with it.”

  “Only think, Caroline,” pleaded Aurelia desperately. “Only think of the scandal if it became known that you had done such a thing. An assumed name! Only a very vulgar sort of person would use an assumed name, I am certain.”

  “Perhaps an assumed name is not necessary,” conceded Caroline. “After all, my parents never went to London and I have no family there. No doubt Miss Chessington would mean nothing in London. It would be confusing to have to answer to another name. All right, Aurelia, I shall go as Miss Chessington.”

  “Oh, my dear Caroline …”

  “But,” continued Caroline, “I do intend to live in a quiet district and keep my wealth a secret. I shall depend on you and Mrs. Lawson to keep my secret. Will you help me?”

  Aurelia’s hand fluttered helplessly. “I do not know what to say. To pretend is unlike anything I have ever done.”

  “If you feel that you cannot, Aurelia, I shall have to go to London with only Mrs. Lawson to bear me company.”

  That finished it. Aurelia was extremely jealous of Caroline’s old nurse and the influence she had. She also knew that Caroline, once her mind was set, was quite capable of carrying out her plan. Despite Caroline’s disclaimers about entering into London Society, Aurelia certainly did not wish to miss the trip to London. And finally, she was dependent on Caroline for her present standard of living. The economies which would be necessary if she had to exist on her own were too unpleasant to contemplate. She would have to go to London on Caroline’s terms.

  “Very well, Caroline,” she said with a sniff. “We shall go to London as you wish.”

  “You must promise, Aurelia, that you will not let slip the fact that I am an heiress.”

  “You may be sure that I am able to keep a secret,” said Aurelia with another sniff.

  “Indeed!” said Caroline, getting up and going over to kiss her cousin’s cheek. “You’ll see; we’ll have a lovely time, and we shall go to the theater and the opera. I must write to Stokes, my man of business, you know, and ask him to engage a house for us. And, of course, I must speak to Mrs. Lawson. I am certain that she will raise at least as many objections as you have!”

  “If I am willing to accompany you, I see no reason why a servant should question the decision,” said Aurelia.

  “Then you don’t know her very well,” said Caroline.

  The next morning, Caroline sought out Mrs. Lawson in her quarters. A tall woman with an ample bosom and a comfortable look, she had been Caroline’s nurse as a child and still considered Caroline her personal province. She scolded Caroline as if she were still a child if she came in damp after a ride, cosseted her with potions if she caught a cold, and allowed no one else the honor of sewing her darling’s ripped hems. She considered Cousin Aurelia a poor companion for her pet. She lived for the day when Caroline would marry (although she doubted there was anyone worthy of her) and set up her own nursery, where Mrs. Lawson fully intended to hold sway. When Caroline knocked on her door, she was working on the linens which were her contribution to Caroline’s trousseau, and on which she had been working for years.

  “Why, Miss Caroline!” she exclaimed as she looked up from her work. “And what might you be doing here?”

  “Hello, Awson-Lawson,” she said, using her childhood pet name for the nurse.

  “Now, go on then, Miss Caroline,” said Mrs. Lawson with a pleased smile. “When you were a little girl you used to call me that when you were wanting something or had done something wrong. Now which is it?”

  “How well you know me, dear Nurse,” said Caroline with a laugh. “I haven’t done anything wrong yet, so don’t glower at me! I am planning to take a house in London and hope you will come with me.”

  “As if I’d be letting you go alone. Miss Caroline,” scolded Mrs. Lawson. “You as has never been outside of Lancashire. And who else would be taking care of you, I’d like to know?”

  “It certainly would not seem right if it were not my oldest friend,” said Caroline. “I shall depend on you.”

  “And when might you be planning to go, Miss Caroline?” asked Mrs. Lawson. “There’s much that needs doing before we’re ready.”

  “Of course, I shall have to arrange for a house in London. Once that is done, it only awaits our preparations here. T
here is one thing.”

  “And what’s that, Miss Caroline?” asked the nurse.

  Knowing well that the knowledge that Cousin Aurelia was against something was the surest way to win Mrs. Lawson over to her side, Caroline said, “My cousin believes I should hire a house in the most fashionable part of town, announcing that I am an heiress. I should prefer to live more quietly, keeping my wealth a secret. You know how much I dislike being toadeaten because I am wealthy!”

  “Indeed I do, Miss Caroline. Many’s the time I’ve said to myself it’s a shame, the way some people as I won’t mention toady to you and bother you until you don’t know which end’s up. Un-Christian, that’s what I call it.”

  “So you do understand my desire, despite my cousin’s feelings, to go as plain, unassuming Miss Chessington?”

  “Of course. Miss Caroline, if that’s what suits you, then that’s what you should do. I’m sure certain people will do just as you say if they know what’s good for them.” She sniffed.

  “Dear Lawson, you’re always protecting me, aren’t you?”

  “I’m sure I know my duty. Miss Caroline, as if caring for you were a duty, which I’m sure it’s not. And maybe if we go to London, you’ll be able to use these linens I’m making.”

  Caroline jumped up and kissed her soundly on the cheek. “Thank you so much, Lawson,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Hmph,” said Lawson. But Caroline had no doubt that she was pleased.

  Back in her room, Caroline sat down to consider the situation. She was a bit weary from the placating of the two old adversaries, but now that she had overcome this obstacle, the difficult part of the scheme seemed behind her.

  “Now I reckon I must write to Stokes and ask him to find a suitable house,” she said. “I certainly hope that when he learns of my plans, he will not also raise objections to the location. I don’t feel capable of handling another elderly protector!”

  She went to her writing table, which had been her mother’s, and for which she had a special fondness. It was lacquered with flowers and fantastic birds, and was in the popular Chinese style. She took out her writing paper and began composing a letter to Mr. Stokes.

  Dear Mr. Stokes:

  It is my intention to remove to London for several months, preferably from April to July. I wish to hire a furnished house, with servants, in a quiet, genteel district, one which is not in the most fashionable area.

  In addition, as I do not intend to be presented as an heiress, I would appreciate it if you would not reveal my situation to anyone.

  Please let me know at your earliest convenience the result of your inquiries.

  Very truly yours,

  Caroline Chessington

  And if that does not surprise the sedate and stolid Mr. Stokes, nothing will, she thought with a grin.

  Chapter 3

  In London, Mr. Stokes had just received the letter from his wealthy client. The Stokes family firm had handled the business affairs of the Chessingtons for several generations. Mr. Stokes had been horrified, six years previously, when Caroline had come of age unmarried. He was particularly distressed at her insistence on taking control of her estate from her trustees, capable men who could be depended upon not to squander it away. However, Caroline had been prudent; holding household, permitting him to invest in the Funds, and showing a shrewder head for business than he had thought possible in a female. He had never had reason to ponder the motives behind one of her requests before, and this letter puzzled him. Mr. Stokes put on his wire-rimmed glasses again and called in his assistant, John Potts.

  “Yes, Mr. Stokes?” asked that respectful young gentleman.

  “Potts, what do you make of this?” He read Caroline’s letter aloud.

  “Why, Mr. Stokes, it sounds as if Miss Chessington means to come to London.”

  “I can see that, you fool. What I don’t understand is why she wants a house in an unfashionable district, and why she doesn’t want anyone to know she’s an heiress. One would suppose she would want every eligible gentleman to know her situation. She is no longer a young woman, you know.”

  “Perhaps she does not want to be hounded by fortune hunters,” suggested Mr. Potts diffidently.

  “I don’t know why I keep you on,” said Mr. Stokes. “A bigger fool I’ve never known. An unmarried woman of great wealth and no particular beauty not announce her wealth because she fears fortune hunters? How else does she expect to find a husband, if they do not know she is an heiress?”

  “When you sent me to Brampton Hall to deliver some papers last year and I met Miss Chessington, I thought her not at all unattractive,” said poor Mr. Potts, almost to himself. “She had a very friendly smile and fine eyes.”

  “Perhaps you’d care to offer for her yourself,” said Mr. Stokes with awful irony. “You had better marry money. You are such a fool, you’ll never get on in business.”

  “Yes, sir,” said the unhappy Mr. Potts. “And what do you intend to do about the letter, sir?” he asked.

  “Do as she asks, of course,” said Mr. Stokes. “What else would I do for our wealthiest client? Don’t you have some work to do?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Mr. Potts. He fled.

  Miss Chessington was fortunate to hear none of Mr. Stokes’s comments on her plans. She waited impatiently for his reply, which was several weeks in coming. It arrived on a rainy March afternoon. Preston brought it into the library, where Caroline was reading, but not really absorbing, a rather boring book and Cousin Aurelia was crocheting a cap for the newborn baby of a distant relation.

  “The post, Miss Caroline,” said Preston, handing it to her. Like most of the staff, Preston, the head butler, was a local man who had been a family servant since he had started in service as an under-footman. Caroline was a great favorite of the staff, most of whom had been in service at the Hall since before she was born.

  “Is there anything of interest, my love?” asked Aurelia.

  “There is a letter from my Aunt Horatia in Yorkshire,” Caroline said. “It is probably a renewal of her annual invitation to visit her. She will again be relieved when I decline. Ah, here is a letter which appears to be from Mr. Stokes in London. Perhaps he has news of a house for us.”

  “Oh, I certainly hope so,” said Aurelia. “Do, pray, open it quickly.”

  Caroline opened the letter and read it. “Splendid!” she exclaimed. “Mr. Stokes writes that he has found a house in Woburn Square. He says it is a ‘completely respectable, genteel neighborhood, but not one where one would expect to find the ton!’ That sounds perfect! I knew Mr. Stokes could carry out my instructions. He says the owner must let the house for a few months because his wife’s ill health forces them to retire to Bath so that she might take the waters. The house is available as soon as we wish it. I believe I shall write to Mr. Stokes and tell him we shall take the house as of the first of April.”

  “The first of April!” exclaimed Aurelia. “That is only two weeks away, and there is so much to do!”

  “But you were saying only yesterday how tiresome it is with the weather so poor. Now we shall have enough to keep us busy until we leave for London. It has been so long since the house was closed for such an extended period that I must speak to the housekeeper about the arrangements that are to be made.”

  “We must take the best silver and china,” said Aurelia, “and the bed linens, for one never knows about the sheets in some of the lesser establishments. And, of course …”

  “Cousin Aurelia,” interrupted Caroline, laughing, “we are going to a perfectly respectable place. I am certain their china and silver is more than adequate and that the servants take excellent care of the linens. And do recollect that we are going to a house in London, not to some local inn. I am certain we shall find everything we might need there. And now I really must speak to Mrs. Sutton, and write to Mr. Stokes with instructions to hire the house.” She rushed out of the room without waiting to hear Aurelia’s forebodings about t
he shortcomings of London’s servants.

  The household at Brampton was thrown into chaos by the news of the impending journey. The servants, accustomed to a routine which had not varied since Caroline was eighteen, were upset at the news that they would be expected to keep the household running without “Miss Caroline” to turn to. It took the combined efforts of Caroline and Mrs. Lawson to soothe the fears of Cook that Mrs. Sutton would interfere in her kitchen, and to reassure her that they really did not want her to give notice and return to her family. Cousin Aurelia continued issuing orders, to which no one paid heed, because to carry them out would have meant moving the entire household to London.

  The day before the journey was to begin, Mrs. Lawson fell down the stairs and broke her leg. This disaster threatened to delay the expedition, but when the doctor informed Caroline that it would be six weeks before Mrs. Lawson would be able to travel, the nurse tearfully implored Caroline to make the trip without her.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to go. Miss Caroline,” she said as she wiped her eyes. “But I can’t have you spoiling your plans because of me. Stupid it was of me, falling like that. Now you go along to London like you planned. You’ll be all right with Miss Peakirk.”

  Knowing how much that statement had cost Mrs. Lawson, Caroline went to her and kissed her.

  “I don’t like to leave you,” she said.

  “Now Miss Caroline, you stop being foolish. There’s more than enough servants around here with little enough to do, once you’re gone. They can take care of me until I’m up and about.”

  “You remember that the doctor said you were to stay in bed until your leg is completely healed.”

  “And just who is the nurse around here?” demanded Mrs. Lawson, beginning to sniffle again. “You have a lot to do, Miss Caroline, and you’d better be running along.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Caroline teasingly. She kissed Mrs. Lawson again. As she closed the door behind her, she heard the old woman begin to cry.

  There were no further disasters. Finally, the carriages were loaded with baggage and such items as were considered indispensable, at least to Aurelia, and they were on their way. The two-hundred-mile journey from Brampton to London would take several days; Stokes had bespoken the best rooms in the inns where they would stop along the way. At first, Caroline had demurred at Mr. Stokes’s insistence on such travel arrangements, but, whatever her intentions for anonymity in London, she had no desire to expose herself or her party to the company of the vulgar persons one might meet at posting inns.

 

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