by Lynn Morris
He watched as she marshaled and organized the entire household. Trueman, it seemed, was at last put in his proper place, and gave Valeria the keys to the earl’s desk. Together Alastair and Valeria wrote the messages to be sent to London. Valeria instructed Joan about the dressmaker, giving her several patterns for mourning clothes from Ackermann’s Repository and La Belle Assemblée. Moneys were handed out to the footman and maid, and they left for London in good order.
Alastair stayed with Valeria while she met with the steward, Mr. Wheeler, and found out about the earl’s hatchment, which was promptly recovered from the gun room and placed on the door. She instructed the gardeners to make mourning wreaths for the south entrance and the windows on the lower floor. It amazed Alastair that she had the presence of mind to think of all of these details.
By nine o’clock that night, Alastair found that he was exhausted. He and Valeria were alone, now in the drawing room. The night was cool and damp, and he watched her as she sat, straight and erect, in a chair near the fire. She was still wearing her short-sleeved white dress, and she pulled her shawl closer about her shoulders. Alastair was sitting across from her, watching the firelight play on her face. Quietly he said, “Miss Segrave, I must tell you that I have great admiration for the way you’ve managed this extremely distressing situation so well.”
“Do you?” she said blankly. “It seems to me that I’ve been scurrying about like a mouse in a maze.”
The thought came into Alastair’s mind that there was nothing at all mousy about Valeria, but he merely said, “Not at all. You’ve been organized, efficient, and, I might add, very effective, especially with the servants.” Valeria had encountered the same passive resistance from the steward, George Wheeler, that she had experienced with Trueman. The agent was more courteous, but he was obviously reluctant to discuss any part of the Maledon estate with Valeria.
Impatiently she said, “It is so difficult, so needlessly difficult! I suppose it’s because they are so accustomed to an earl’s rank, and I’m only the daughter of a mere baron!”
Alastair’s mouth twitched as she looked up at him, aghast. “Oh, dear! I—you’re—I didn’t mean—”
“It is true, I’m a mere baron,” he said carelessly. “But I don’t think that’s the problem here. You do see that the servants and employees are confused, and with some reason.”
She sighed. “Yes, I know, and I suppose it is understandable. I am only the late earl’s stepdaughter, of no blood relation. But until my mother is well enough to manage, I can see no alternative other than that I must take charge.”
“As I’ve said, you do that very well,” Alastair said.
She eyed him with dry amusement. “What you mean is that I’m a bossy female.”
He replied, “No, what I mean is that you are intelligent and steady.”
“Intelligent and steady,” Valeria repeated. “Hmm. That makes me sound like an aged governess.”
“Miss Segrave,” Alastair said dryly, “I assure you, there is nothing whatsoever about you that would ever remind anyone of a governess.”
Chapter Ten
THE FOURTH EARL OF MALEDON returned home for the last time on September fourteenth, 1811. It was an incongruously cheerful day, with a high golden sun set in a cloudless pale-blue sky. The funeral wagon, a black low cart completely enclosed in glass, stopped in the courtyard of Bellegarde Hall precisely between the looming statue of Perseus and Andromeda and the entrance to the Great Hall.
Valeria, Alastair, and St. John came out to meet the carriage accompanying Lord Maledon’s hearse. Lady Hylton alighted and without a word went to kiss and embrace Valeria. Valeria clung to her, and suddenly felt overwhelming relief. Her godmother was a decisive, commanding woman and Valeria knew that Lady Hylton would shoulder much of the terrible burden she had felt.
St. John bowed, and Lady Hylton looked pleased. “Child, how much you have grown since last I saw you! Come here. Though I know very well you’ll hate it I shall kiss you anyway.”
“I won’t hate it, Lady Hylton,” he said shyly, and submitted to her embrace willingly.
Valeria had met Alastair’s sister, Lady Lydgate, several times since her mother married Lord Maledon, and she had met Lord Lydgate twice. She curtsied, and Elyse quickly embraced her and said, “None of that, silly. We’re practically sisters. Godsisters, anyway. You must call me Elyse, Valeria.”
As Valeria had known she would, Lady Hylton immediately took charge. “Let’s go inside. I’ve already instructed the coachmen.”
Trueman was waiting for them at the door. Lady Hylton said, “Trueman, I don’t wish to sit in that dreary drawing room, take us to the morning room.”
The footmen took hats, coats, bonnets, and walking sticks, and Trueman conducted them all into the morning room. Lady Hylton collapsed into an overstuffed wing chair. Valeria saw that she looked weary, the faint age lines on her face seeming more prominent. But her blue eyes were still as sharp and shrewd as ever.
“Will you take some refreshment, ma’am?” Valeria asked. “We’ve kept the kettle on for tea all day, anticipating that you’d be fatigued when you arrived.”
“I don’t want tea, I want a glass of sherry,” Lady Hylton responded. “And Trueman, our meals on the road have been so haphazard, I simply can’t wait for dinner. Have Mrs. Banyard prepare us a light nuncheon.”
The footmen served, and after taking a sip of sherry, Lady Hylton resumed the inevitable required ladylike position, sitting up straight on the edge of the seat without her back touching the chair. “Tell me about Regina first,” she demanded.
Valeria said, “She took the news very ill indeed, ma’am. She had to take to her bed immediately. Dr. Thaxton has been attending her, and he says that she’s very weak, and that she’s having a great deal of trouble taking nourishment. She did come down for luncheon, but ate little. She’s resting now.”
Lady Hylton said, “I feared it would be so. I’ll see her as soon as she’s awake. Alastair, tell me everything that has been done, who has been notified, what news.”
“Yesterday messages were sent to London, and late last night we received express messages from Maledon’s solicitor, banker, and physician that they are on the way; in fact, I would imagine that they may have already arrived,” Alastair answered. “Also Lord Yarmouth sent to tell us that he will arrive tomorrow.” Lord Yarmouth was the prince regent’s vice chamberlain.
“Excellent. This has been such a hurried, chaotic affair that I can scarcely believe how you’ve managed. I saw that the hatchment has been placed, the funeral wreaths, the armbands,” Lady Hylton said.
“I cannot take credit for such excellent management, ma’am,” Alastair said. “Miss Segrave has done everything, I have scarcely been allowed to be of use at all.”
“Is that so? Well done, Valeria,” Lady Hylton said approvingly.
“Thank you, ma’am,” she said with pleasure.
Lady Hylton’s sharp gaze rested on St. John, who sat on the sofa close to Valeria. He was attentive, but listless. In a gentler tone she said, “St. John, I know this is very hard for you, so I want to tell you a few things. First, your mother will be all right, you know. You mustn’t worry about her, we’ll take very good care of her and in a day or two she’ll be herself again.”
He nodded. “She told me today that she’s already feeling better than yesterday. She said she’s sure she’ll be able to come down to dinner, and that I might have dinner with you tonight.”
“Good. Now, about your father. We’re going to help your mother—and your sister—take care of everything, so you needn’t worry about that either.”
He sighed, too deeply for a small boy. “Thank you, ma’am.”
In a crisper tone Lady Hylton continued, “Just now we’re going to be discussing plans that I’m sure you’ll find boring. Of course, St. John, you may stay with us. But I think that you’d much rather be out and about with your friend Niall, causing all sorts of trouble for Mr. Chalmer
s. So if you wish, you may be excused.”
He looked up at Valeria. “Would it be all right, Veri? Should I stay?”
“No, dearest, there is no need,” she answered kindly. “We can talk later.”
Eagerly now he jumped up, made a courtly bow, and ran out. Lady Hylton watched him thoughtfully. “He seems to be holding up very well. I have to admit that I’m most pleasantly surprised. I’m proud of both you and St. John, Valeria.”
Alastair said, “You must tell us about the doctor’s report, and the inquest, Mother.” He saw his brother-in-law casting doubtful glances at Valeria, and continued evenly, “From what little I heard from Kincannon that night I’m sure this will be very hard to hear, Miss Segrave. I’m not certain that it’s necessary that you be privy to all the details.”
Stiffly Valeria said, “Again, Lord Hylton, I feel that I am in the position of representing my mother. Until she’s better I must assume all of her responsibilities.”
“Quite right,” Lady Hylton said. “Obviously Valeria is more capable than is Regina just now. And somehow I doubt that Valeria is going to have the vapors, even though the news is grim. The doctor’s report basically said that Maledon must have been suffering from some disease of the blood, but he had no way of ascertaining what the disease might have been. Apparently Maledon died from severe hemorrhage, the onset of which was sudden and acute. The coroner agreed with his finding, as sketchy as it was, and ruled it ‘death from natural causes.’ And his comment to me was that it was ironic, because it seemed most unnatural to him.”
This was met with a grim silence that lasted long moments; then Lady Hylton continued, “And there is more bad news, Valeria. It’s impossible that Maledon lie in state. This is partly because his body was already so adversely affected by disease, and partly because he was such a long distance from here when he died. It’s my decided opinion that the funeral should be held as soon as possible.”
Valeria said with distress, “Oh, my poor mother will take this so hard. This—this entire thing is like some awful nightmare to her already.”
In a hard voice Lady Hylton said, “It certainly is, and it is all Maledon’s fault. Don’t look at me like that, Reggie, I’m not such a fool as to think I’ll be cursed for speaking ill of the dead. I have every intention of making Lady Maledon understand that all of this happened the way it did only as a result of decisions that Lord Maledon made, and no one on this earth could have helped him, only Almighty God.”
Valeria hoped with all her heart that her mother would come to see these hard truths. She knew that if anyone could help Regina to see them, Lady Hylton could. “Oh, Lady Hylton, I’m so glad you’ve come,” she said quietly.
“As am I, Valeria,” she said. “Now, we must talk about making arrangements for the funeral…”
Valeria listened with only half her mind, for she was much distracted by Lord Hylton’s direct gaze. He seemed to study her often, and she was having difficulty understanding why. His manner and air were so distant and severe that she thought he must be continually finding fault with her. He had seemed irritated before, when he had remarked that he had been of little use here. Could her determination not to rely on him have offended him? Did he feel that only a man should be in charge? It did seem that when she had spoken so warmly of how glad she was that Lady Hylton had arrived, his eyes had held some sort of reproof.
He’s a complete stranger to me, she thought crossly. What did he expect? That I would just assume that since he’s a man, he would know better than I how to conduct my family’s private affairs? I think not!
Valeria made herself pay strict attention to what Lady Hylton was saying. She determined that she would take no further note of Lord Hylton’s assessing gaze.
But this, she found to her dismay, was impossible to do.
* * *
Without asking questions, Regina acceded to Lady Hylton’s insistence that Maledon’s funeral be held the very next day. Lord Lydgate and Lord Hylton went to the rectory and made all the arrangements with Reverend Emmery, and alerted the men who had come to the village to attend the funeral.
It was a cool clear autumn morning. The funeral wagon holding Maledon’s casket, now filled with white lilies, waited in the courtyard. Ewan, dressed all in black, parked the coach behind it, the Maledon coat of arms on the doors now bearing a single black silk ribbon across. At nine o’clock the toll began; the solemn church bell sounded faint at Bellegarde, but the fifty-one knells, one for each year of the Earl of Maledon’s life, could still be heard.
St. John looked very small and vulnerable as he walked across the courtyard with Lord Hylton and Lord Lydgate. Behind them Regina, Valeria, Lady Hylton, and Lady Lydgate followed. Regina placed a single red rose, the last in the garden, atop the pile of white lilies. She bowed her head and her lips moved, but no one could hear her soft whispers.
The two men and the small boy climbed into the coach. The women returned to stand on the steps and watch them drive away.
Valeria had always thought it odd, even somewhat silly, that it was thought that women were too emotionally fragile to attend funerals. But now, seeing her mother’s desolate face, she was glad.
Chapter Eleven
TRUEMAN ANNOUNCED IN HIS FUNEREAL baritone, “Mr. Cecil Broadbill.”
Cecil Broadbill, Esquire, of Broadbill and Bent, Solicitors, came into the drawing room and made a deep bow. He was a tall man, with long thin legs, and Valeria thought he looked like a stork. He was, however, exquisitely dressed in the current understated mode. He wore a black tailcoat perfectly cut, a discreet gray-and-blue-striped waistcoat with the fob and watch chain appended in exactly the correct arc, and black pegged trousers. His rather wispy brown hair was fashionably styled in careless curls and waves, and when he bowed a large round bald spot shone. His eyes were close-set and he had a slight hook in his nose, which gave him a sort of predatory look.
Regina made the introductions in a weak voice. “Mr. Broadbill, this is my son St. John and my daughter Miss Segrave. This is Lord Hylton and Lady Hylton, and this is Lord Lydgate and Lady Lydgate.”
Valeria was worried about her mother. Though she had attended every meal, she ate scantily and was still so weak that she had been obliged to retire afterward. Such listless introductions were utterly uncharacteristic of Regina. Normally even to tradesmen she worded introductions more graciously. And Valeria thought it was telling that she had introduced St. John by his given name, when she should have introduced him by his title. Her mother seemed so distracted by grief that she was barely able to function.
Broadbill acknowledged the introductions with fawning deference and then launched into pompous, wordy condolences. When eventually he fell silent Regina nodded wearily and said, “Thank you, sir. Shall we retire to the earl’s study?”
“Certainly, my lady,” he said, and made a vague gesture to offer Regina his arm. She appeared not to see it. When she rose she clasped Alastair’s arm tightly and leaned on him. Valeria noted that Broadbill looked utterly nonplussed as Alastair and Lady Hylton accompanied them down the hall to the study.
The study was also the library, a somber room with glass-fronted bookcases lining every wall. At one end was an old refectory table with several comfortable armchairs grouped around it. At the other end was a massive mahogany desk. Broadbill sat behind the desk. In five side chairs precisely lined up in front of it, Lady Hylton sat by Regina, then St. John, then Valeria, and Lord Hylton sat by her. Valeria reflected how odd it was that the solicitor seemed to be holding court, and the distinguished personages in front of him seemed to be merely his attendees. He was conscious of it too, she thought. Although he cast a few nervous glances at Lord Hylton as he opened his leather portfolio, as he took long moments to shuffle papers fussily he assumed a pompous air.
“We have here the last will and testament of the Earl of Maledon,” he pronounced as if he were reading Scripture. “With your permission, my lady, I will read it aloud.” Without waiting for he
r permission, he picked up a single sheet of paper and read:
“‘In the name of God, amen,
“‘I, Edward Charles Robert Bellegarde, Earl of Maledon, Viscount Stamborne of Essex, Baron Bellegarde of Roding, in the County of Essex, on this the twenty-fifth day of May in the Year of Our Lord 1805,
“‘Being compos mentis and of sound memory, do make and ordain this to be my last will and testament.
“‘As touching such of worldly Estate wherewith it has pleased God to bless me in this life, I give demise and dispose of the same in the following Manner and Form.
“‘Item: I give and bequeath to my wife Regina Bellegarde, Lady Maledon, the sum of ten thousand pounds.
“‘Item: All and Singular of the residue of my estate I give and bequeath to my son St. John Charles George Bellegarde.
“‘I constitute, make and ordain that Cecil Broadbill, Esquire, of Broadbill and Bent, Solicitors, London, be the Executor of this my last Will and Testament.’”
Broadbill laid the paper down, looked up, steepled his fingers precisely. “The rest is the signature, the seal, the witness, and the executor’s acknowledgment.”
A long heavy silence greeted this. Valeria glanced at her mother and saw that she looked stunned, as if she had received a blow; beside her Lady Hylton looked as grim as death. Valeria looked up at Alastair, and though he kept his customary aloof expression, she saw that his eyes had narrowed to cold slits as he regarded the solicitor. Broadbill fidgeted for a moment, then said deprecatingly, “It is a simple document, but legally complete. We’ll be happy to answer any questions you may have, your ladyship, but it really is very clear.”
Valeria waited for her mother to say something, but Regina seemed unable to speak, so Valeria said, “Well, I do have questions, Mr. Broadbill, several of them. First of all, what about my annuity from my father? I know that I receive two thousand pounds per annum from the Segrave estate.”
“Just so, Miss Segrave,” he said in a condescending voice, and steepled his fingers again. “We’re sure you are also aware that your stepfather was the sole trustee of your annuity, and therefore had the funds at his disposal to manage them as his lordship believed would be in your best interest. Of course there is an accounting for the annuity, and we will be happy to present that at the time I have the final summing up of all of the earl’s assets and liabilities up to the time of his death. You do understand that it will take some time before we’re able to present a complete and comprehensive final report.”