by Anna Jacobs
Chapter 17
Telling Daniel Carnforth that he was not, perhaps, the heir to Ashdown Park, was one of the most difficult things Samuel Napperby had ever had to do. He couldn’t help being aware of the deep love the new owner had developed for the family estate, even in this short time, and he also knew Daniel was an excellent landlord, something Ashdown had lacked for many years. The new owner already done several kindnesses to those of his dependants in need and had made a good impression on people usually slow to accept newcomers.
Mr Napperby decided to wait until Daniel returned before he told him about the baby. He simply sent a message to Bellborough by a groom who had instructions to make the best time possible on the journey and not to spare expense. The message asked Daniel not to sign the contract for sale, if at all possible, but if he had already signed it, to return as quickly as possible to Ashdown, as something urgent had cropped up.
But the groom brought a letter back to say that the message had arrived too late and that Bellborough now belonged to someone else. Daniel added that he’d already planned to return later that day and would be happy to see Mr Napperby early the following morning, if there was some problem.
After hours of worrying how to break the news, Mr Napperby could find no easy way and in the end, when he had refused every offer of refreshment and was sitting with his host in the library, he said simply, ‘I have to inform you, sir, that Mrs Carnforth finds herself to be expecting a child by her late husband.’
Like Helen, Daniel turned white as the implications of her condition struck him and could not for a moment speak. Unlike her, after the first shock, he became very angry indeed. Rarely did he ever give way to his emotions like this, for, apart from the time he spent with his mother, he wasn’t quick to anger. But now, he felt, life had dealt him too cruel a blow.
‘Damn her, why could she not have said so before? My mother was right! That woman is wicked, wicked! ’ he shouted. ‘She must have known how things stood here when he died. She must have! Or soon after, anyway. Indeed, I'm amazed a man in his condition had the ability to father a child.’
‘Mrs Carnforth didn’t realise her condition until after the funeral. I believe it was Becky who pointed it out to her. And then, well, she was very weary and somewhat reluctant to face the world.’
‘Reluctant, indeed! That was a full month ago! And how can we be sure that it is Charles's child? A dying man doesn't usually father a child! And my cousin never had any before that I've heard. Indeed, it was commonly believed in the family that he couldn't, since his first wife never quickened, nor did any of his mistresses - and we knew of quite a few, believe me, for he didn’t trouble to hide things.’
Mr Napperby drew himself up to his full height. ‘I hope you are not implying that Mrs Carnforth would behave in an unprincipled manner!’
It was amazing how coldly dignified a short fat man could become. Daniel closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. He refused to think about Helen. Refused. ‘When is it due?’ His voice was harsh; his face looked suddenly older.
‘The baby is expected in early February. And, having seen Charles and his wife together, I myself have no doubt, no doubt at all, that it is his! She would never have betrayed him.’
‘So I shall lose Ashdown as well as Bellborough!’ It was a cry of anguish. Daniel realised he’d lost control, stopped and tried to pull himself together. ‘And I shan’t even know my fate for months, until,' his voice was still unsteady and thick with emotion, ‘the damned brat is born!’
‘I'm sorry for your disappointment. Mrs Carnforth sends her apologies, her very sincere apologies.’
‘Oh, hell and damnation!’ Daniel muttered, as if he hadn't heard that last remark. ‘You will never know how much it cost me to part with the estate that had been in my mother's family for over a hundred years - and now, if I lose Ashdown Park as well.’ He groaned, ‘It’s too much to bear! I tell you quite frankly, I shall pray ever day that the baby is a girl.’
Mr Napperby nodded sympathetically.
‘Does she know that I've already sold Bellborough for the sake of Ashdown Park?’
‘Yes. I know you wished it to be kept secret, but I felt I had to tell her.’
‘How she must have laughed!’
Mr Napperby so far forgot himself as to thump on the table. ‘She did not laugh! You wrong her greatly, sir, even to think it. She was very distressed indeed!’
Daniel laughed. At least, it was meant to be a laugh, but it came out more like a sob. ‘That makes it all right, then, I suppose. Shed a few easy tears and say you're sorry! And what am I expected to do in the meantime - until matters are settled one way or the other? I've nowhere else to live now, you know!’
‘Mrs Carnforth told me to tell you expressly that she doesn’t wish anything to change. She's very happy living at the Dower House and for you to continue living here. Believe me, she doesn’t wish to cause you any trouble.’
Daniel went to stare out of the window. ‘Not cause me any trouble! That's a joke! A farce!
What more trouble can she cause me? She's already done her worst.’ An image of Ashdown Park made his anger rise again. ‘Oh, damn the woman!’ he muttered savagely, pressing his hands against the coolness of the window panes. ‘Damn all women, but damn her most of all!’
And he had been thinking - he didn’t know what he’d been thinking - he only knew she’d been on his mind too much lately. Though that was going to change from now on. He wouldn’t give her another thought.
Mr Napperby’s voice was very gentle. ‘Mr Carnforth, please! Let us - ’
Daniel could stand no more. Like a wounded animal, he had to be alone to lick his wounds.
He flung himself out of the room, pausing briefly at the door to order, ‘Come and discuss it with me another time, if you please. I can’t - ’ before striding across the hall, pushing aside one of the maids who got in his way and slamming the outer door behind him.
He rode through the park at a bruising pace, his mind afire with anger and despair. For once the beautiful woodland was no refuge from the world, but a heart-rending reminder of what he stood to lose.
As he passed the end of the North Drive, he saw Harry on his new pony, accompanied by Briggs. The boy waved and turned the animal towards him, his face eager. Daniel felt that as if he were choking with anger. He couldn’t bear, he absolutely could not bear to speak to anyone, least of all her or her son.
‘Get out of my way!’ he yelled as his ward started to trot in his direction.
Harry’s mouth fell open in shock.
Behind him, Alfred made an exasperated clicking sound.
‘And,’ Daniel’s chest heaved with the agony of it all, ‘tell your damned mother not to come near me from now on, or I won't be responsible for what I say or do!’
Harry jerked to a halt, sawing on the reins in a way that would normally have brought Briggs's wrath down upon his head. Lips quivering, he watched Daniel gallop away, then turned to the man he spent most of his time with nowadays for help. ‘Why did he shout at me like that, Briggs? What have I done wrong? And why was he so rude about Mother?’
An equally stunned Briggs moved his horse beside him and reached across to pat his shoulder. ‘It's not you he’s angry at, lad. It's - circumstances. He'll have found out about the baby, I reckon.’
And then he had to explain, as Helen had not been able to bring herself to do, the problems the baby might cause for Daniel. ‘So you see, it's not you he's angry with, it's - well -
circumstances. Him having sold his other house, like.’
‘Well, whatever the circumstances, he has no right to say things like that about my mother!’
Harry's voice trembled for a moment, for his guardian’s rejection of himself had hurt as well, but he managed to control himself enough to declare, ‘And he'd better not make her cry again, for I won't have it!’
Negotiations about interim arrangements were conducted through Mr Napperby, and the details of the
waiting period were gradually settled.
Mrs Carnforth would be grateful if Mr Daniel Carnforth would continue to oversee the estate.
She had no desire whatsoever to move into the Manor until matters were settled.
Mr Carnforth presented his compliments to Mrs Carnforth and informed her that he would accede to her request and supervise the estate until the baby was born. After which, if it proved to be a boy, she should make arrangements to bring in an estate manager at once. In the meantime, Mr Napperby would no doubt see that the income from the estate, such as it was, was paid to her.
Mrs Carnforth declined to accept any of the income from the estate.
So did Mr Carnforth.
Only with the utmost tact did Mr Napperby manage to persuade Daniel to accept some of the money coming in for spending on estate matters, though all major improvements had now been suspended. However, Daniel refused point-blank to touch a penny for his own expenses, whether they were incurred in the running of the estate or not.
And woe betide any servant, estate worker or villager who mentioned Mrs Carnforth in his hearing.
The landlord of the Roe Deer said to his regulars after one such encounter, ‘It's turned dangy difficult to know what to say to any of the family lately. He do only bite your head off, and she d'look ready to burst into tears.’
‘Aye, and as for Master Harry, that's two fights he've got into this week. Don't care how big anyone else is, he don't. If they say anythin' about his mother that he don't like, he just lights into
'em!’
‘Well, you got to admire the boy for that.’
After all the arrangements had been made, the only communication between the two principals was, for a time, through stiffly-worded notes on matters of pure estate business, for Daniel would change nothing without her written permission.
Both turned into near recluses for a while. And if truth be told, each of them was missing the other's company. They had discovered very similar tastes in books and music, as well as a common love for the countryside. Helen had found Daniel a very peaceful companion, after two flamboyant and demanding husbands, and Daniel had found her a restful woman, with a refreshing sincerity about life, as unlike his mother and the silly girls to whom she’d introduced him as could be.
Several times Daniel saw Helen or her son in the distance and turned his horse to avoid them.
It was weeks before his anger subsided and the pain of the possible loss remained as sharp as ever.
Even with these brief glimpses, he couldn’t help noticing that the baby was beginning to show and that she now took only gentle walks in the vicinity of the Dower House. He also noticed the signs of battle on his ward's face, a face which usually bore a sulky or unhappy expression these days.
The county families, after the first shock wave caused by the news had subsided, spent the waiting period speculating about the probable sex of the child. That the Carnforths usually had more sons than daughters was a well-known fact. Bets were laid. Rumours spread. Gossip was rife.
Some said that the way a woman carried a child was a clue to its sex, but no one could get near enough to see whether Lady Carnforth was carrying high or low, because the few people who ventured to call on her were turned away by a dragon of an old woman.
‘Her ladyship thanks you for calling,’ Becky always said with implacable politeness, ‘but she don't feel up to receiving visitors today.’ She never waited for an answer, but simply closed the door in their faces after that statement, whoever they were, the only exceptions being the Morpeths, who were always welcome visitors, and Samuel Napperby.
There were even some deliciously scandalous rumours circulating that this wasn’t Charles Carnforth’s child. No one knew where that idea first came from, but it persisted to a remarkable degree.
That piece of gossip came, of course, from Bath. Celia was almost as upset as her son by the news of the baby. When she first heard from Daniel, she wrote him an impassioned letter demanding that he investigate that woman's past.
When he declined absolutely, she wrote several more letters, imploring him to defend himself against usurpers or begging him not to let a scheming female get the better of him.
He refused his mother’s offer to come and stay with him out of hand, and when she went as far as to tell him the date of her expected arrival, sent a very sharp message back to say that if she tried to set foot in Ashdown Park, he would leave it at once. Until he was confirmed as owner, he didn’t feel he had the right to invite guests to stay there.
It was several weeks before Celia gave up trying to persuade him to take action, but a complete lack of response to her letters - he had started burning them after one cursory scan of the pages - in the end caused her to desist in her appeals.
But it didn’t stop her taking action of her own. By some means or other, she got hold of Helen's maiden name. And when her son made it clear that he would do nothing to defend himself, Celia set out to do it for him. She decided to trace Helen's family and see what they had to say about their errant daughter!
At first she had no luck, but then she came upon a very promising lead.
She wrote to tell Daniel that she had discovered something of importance concerning that woman, and would like to spend a weekend at Ashdown to discuss it with him. But he wrote back saying he hadn’t changed his mind and didn’t wish to see anyone at the present, not even her.
‘If that's not the grossest ingratitude,’ Celia stormed to her maid, ‘then I don't know what is!
He's just like his father! Worse, even. I don't know how I ever came to marry a Carnforth. But I lived to rue it, oh I certainly did. Still, I know my duty and shall not be deterred from pursuing matters.’
Later on, she forgave her son and wrote inviting him to spend Christmas with her in Bath.
That offer too was curtly declined. He had duties to perform at the Manor.
Really, Celia told her friends, what did one do with a son like that? But she was a mother, with a mother's love for her child, however ungracious he was, and she would help him, in spite of himself! She would pursue the hunt for any remaining Merlings who might be able to shed more light on the dowager's character, and she had no doubt what she would find.
After a while Helen began to feel much better, certainly well enough to resume attendance at church on Sundays, and (more difficult) put up with the stares of the congregation.
The worst people she had to face were two elderly spinsters who lived at the same side of the village as herself. The Misses Hadderby were inveterate gossips, of the sort who gushed and fawned all over their victims and then tore characters to shreds behind people’s backs. It was impossible to avoid them completely in so small a community.
Helen also knew from the servants, for it never occurred to Susan not to speak her mind to her mistress, that many of the villagers thought it ‘a great shame’ that Mr Carnforth might lose his inheritance. From the way Susan spoke of him, he had made himself loved very quickly!
Strange, that, with so taciturn a man!
But then, Helen’s thoughts drifted off to the days when she had begun to consider him a friend - he could be very kind, had been good to Harry, had lent her books, had given his ward the little dog which was now Harry’s most constant companion. He was a man of some reserve, but he had a lovely smile and - what was she doing thinking about him like that? He was behaving in a despicable manner to her.
But he must be so hurt about Ashdown.
Helen cradled her belly. ‘You must be a girl,’ she whispered to the child stirring gently inside her. ‘Oh, please be a girl. He loves Ashdown so.’
She discussed matters with Becky sometimes, for the old nurse was full of wisdom, even if it was not offered in flattering phrases. Becky said Mr Daniel had done a lot of good around the place, in a quiet sort of way. ‘I were fond of Charlie, don’t get me wrong, but he weren’t a good landlord. He was a roistering Carnforth, my boy was. Right from the day he was born. And Daniel’
s just the opposite. He’s a farming Carnforth.’
And even Becky, devoted as she was to the dowager and her son, hoped secretly for a girl.
Fortunately Mr Morpeth was that rare thing: a good preacher who didn't run on for ever.
Helen enjoyed listening to his sermons and it was a relief to get out of the house for a little while. She had become very moped, she decided, staying at home and brooding on her troubles.
After all, she’d done nothing wrong. Well, not intentionally, anyway.
She was still missing Daniel's visits very much. (She found it impossible to think of him as Mr Carnforth, somehow.) She knew, too, that Harry had been greatly hurt by his guardian's defection, though she’d explained several times that it was her fault, for she was the one who’d hurt Daniel greatly, and that he wasn’t really angry at Harry.
Daniel hadn’t entirely forgotten his duty to his ward, however. He waited for Mrs Carnforth to do something about her son's education, and when she didn't, he took matters into his own hands. In late October, another curt note arrived at the Dower House.
Mr Daniel Carnforth begs to inform Mrs Carnforth that Mr Morpeth tutors a small group of local boys in the mornings and that he is willing for Harry to join them. With her permission, Mr Carnforth will arrange this.
A note was sent back the same day.
Mrs Carnforth thanks Mr Carnforth for the information and will arrange the matter of her son's education herself.
Daniel swore and headed for his writing desk in the library. Ten minutes later, the long-suffering groom who carried their correspondence to and fro heaved a sigh, saddled up again and rode off through the rain.
Mr Daniel Carnforth begs to inform Mrs Carnforth that he has already spoken to Mr Morpeth, so she need not trouble herself with making the arrangements. Mr Carnforth feels it his duty not only to ensure a sound education for his ward, but also a very necessary contact with other boys of his own age and station in life.
Helen could not but acknowledge that Daniel was right and she very much appreciated his reminding her of Harry's needs. She’d been giving her son lessons in the afternoons, but she knew he’d be better off with a proper tutor.