David sighed in exasperation, for he could see that this would be no easy task, bringing his son around in his thinking. But he began as he meant to go on, firmly grasping the boy's shoulder and turning him so they should face one another. "I will tell you this, young lad. When I or your mother wish to pet your hair or hug you, you will accept it with gratitude, for there are many in this world who would give much for the affection you have been shown. Do not toss away so lightly those gifts."
David thought of his own lonely childhood as he spoke and it strengthened his resolve to teach the boy. "And your manners need a little polish as well. You do not speak so to an adult. You are but a child, Marquis or not, and shall obey your elders, politely. Understood?"
Clay bowed his head and tears filled his eyes. "Yes... yes sir... father." David, thinking he had won him over quickly enough, was gratified. He missed the rebellious gleam of those amber orbs, or he might not have been so quick to relax.
"Well then, that is much better. Finish up and we'll go for a walk. 'Tis early and the birds are just beginning their day. We shall join them and mayhap see a few of God's creatures on our hike."
The boy gobbled his breakfast at those words, ready to go out into the woods with the tall man who was now his father. Nevertheless Clay was determined to be like Papa had said, and gave the man a sly glance, appraising him, thinking how he could get around the man without seeming to. Clay was a clever child.
.
* * * * *
.
Hannah awoke to an empty bed, no different than all the mornings of her life that had gone before. She was disappointed to find that David had gone off so early, for she had looked forward to seeing him first thing. She went through her morning toilette and descended the stairs to the breakfast table, to find her husband and son were out tramping the woods.
"Darwin, have you seen Master Clay? Or David?" Hannah looked a question at him and glanced out the window as the sound of Clay's voice piped across the lawn.
"Yes, Milady, the master has taken the boy for a walk."
"Why do you call him the master? He is my husband, it is true, but he is not master here." Hannah was piqued at the retainer, for his hints and allusions and secrecy were getting on her nerves. Though she wished with all her heart it were so, David was not the true master of this house, and in reality, her son was no longer the heir, she supposed.
"As you say, Milady. Shall you have your usual breakfast?"
"Yes and send my son to me as soon as he comes in." She softened her manner, realizing that the man was merely showing respect for David, whom he liked very much, as did all of the servants. "And Darwin... please appraise me of the solicitor's arrival and make sure that cook has luncheon prepared for several guests, for we shall have the reading of the will today."
"If I may say so, Milady, there is a likelihood that you will be quite surprised by the contents of the will... " Darwin could not resist baiting her a bit, for her curt manner had injured his dignity.
Hannah tossed her napkin upon the table and glared at the man, "How should you know anything of this matter?" She stopped herself from screaming at him, and took several deep breaths before she calmed enough to continue. "I should think, were there anything untoward in this will that I should know about, you would tell me now."
"If I could do so, Milady, I surely would, but I have given my word to the old Marquis, and his death does not release me from a promise given." Darwin drew himself up, satisfied that he had undone her, for though he liked her well, he was wont to think her too mild with the young boy and hoped that the new master would give the child better manners.
Darwin knew his own worth, as well, for did not the Larkspur blood run through his very own veins? 'Twas a pity there was no written record of the many births, some even legitimate, that showed the Larkspur lineage in its entirety. But there was one record that would be revealed today and he could not wait for the consequences... and rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he went his way.
Chapter Nineteen
~~
"These then are the marriage lines. Darwin here, good fellow that he is, assisted me in this small duplicity... but you can see that it will benefit all quite well, in the long run."
"What have you done?" David demanded suspiciously.
"We have simply placed your mother and father in a wee Kirk in Scotland in the year 1797 where they were secretly wed by one Earnest Perry, Vicar, Christ's Church. Gillian Strongbow was kind enough to lend his signature to this particular document, consenting to the marriage."
Gillian coughed loudly and looked to the windows, his ears red with mortification.
"But it is not the truth. Surely, you cannot expect people to believe—"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I can. It has happened before, you know. Secret marriage... heir inherits rightful claim... even happens a royal or two I could name for you had just such an experience.
"Though of course, the issue of those unions could not inherit the throne... but that is a matter of state and we are dealing with a lesser circumstance. The security of the nation does not depend upon this... being 'the truth' as you put it."
Mr. Maguire, looking quite pleased with himself, sat back in his chair and folded his hands across his lean stomach, as he was wont to do at times like this. "But for an accident of birth, you would be the heir at any rate, for I know that your father had planned to marry your mother..."
"You cannot expect me to perpetrate this duplicity upon my wife. She has been deceived enough by this family." David started at the bit of paper, showing him legitimate and the heir, or rather, the Marquis now. "I think this is not to be disclosed today, Mr. Maguire."
"It is too late for that. The Royal family fully expects your presence in London for your swearing of fealty." Mr. Maguire busied himself with paperwork, not looking at David whose face was a storm cloud.
"How can that be?" He looked around wildly, as though to escape, but of course there was no place to go. "I have not sent a missive to the Royals. Surely that ancient rite has been out of practice for some time?"
"Well, for all intents and purposes, it no longer serves the crown in the manner that it did, for instance, during the borders wars. Nevertheless, it is a ritual that still stands."
"I took the liberty, sir, of sending Gates with the obituary when he went for the solicitor." Darwin looked smug. "They have naturally, been in touch with your solicitor, Milord and he has... "
"I should think you take a great many liberties in this house, Darwin. That may change very shortly if you do not cease your interference... " His irritation with the servant and the solicitor knew no bounds. He threw them each a vile look.
"Now, David, ah... your Lordship. I am sure that loyal servants such as Darwin are hard to come by, and he has done his best for you... and remember, he is following the old Marquis wishes... not his own."
David threw the solicitor another irritated look and drew his hands through his hair in exasperation. What a conundrum, this. He paced across the room and back, a scowl marring his handsomeness. Finally, he halted in front of his grandfather and fixed him with a stare. "What do you say to this, grandfather? Was this your idea?"
"Nay, never mine. Not...exactly. The Marquis' lad." Gillian hedged and squirmed on his seat, not liking the look in David's eyes.
He decided to recapture the ground he had lost with his dissembling words, and drew himself up, standing before the younger man, and being several inches taller, knew an advantage.
His own brows drew together, and he spoke with authority. "David, if we have done you a harm, I'd surely like to know how. You are the son of a Marquis and deserve to be the heir. "Tis only a matter of circumstance that you have not been, until now."
"Yes and the circumstance, as you call it, is my being born a by-blow. How can you condone this? Do you propose I go to Hannah with this... this horrid tale? I will not, you can be sure of it."
"And indeed, Milord, you shall not have
to." At the sound of Hannah's voice, all the men in the room turned their eyes to the door.
Regal and composed, a secret smile upon her lips, her eyes bored into David's with unspoken communication. "I should think, that as the Marquis, you would be glad to take your wife and child to meet the King."
"How?" David looked at her in astonishment.
"How do I know of what you speak?" She smiled prettily and fairly glided across the room, her eyes still on her husband. "I have a very bad habit, I am afraid, for I listen at doors."
Gillian Strongbow colored up once more as his very own words echoed back to him, earning him a glance of amusement from his grandson, who had visibly relaxed. He coughed delicately and looked at the ceiling, his innocent manner not un-remarked by Hannah, who grinned at him as well.
Hannah's eyes moved around the room until they landed upon Darwin, who stood in the shadows, his erect posture and aloof manner belying the part he had played in the ruse. A satisfied gleam emitted from his silver eyes and he nodded imperceptibly at the marchioness.
She nodded back with a small smile, then looked at her husband. "And when do we leave for London?"
David, not certain that he wanted to involve himself in yet another fraudulence, turned her by an elbow and escorted her from the room, calling over his shoulder. "Gentlemen, I would speak alone with my lady wife for a few moments... help yourself to the port." He could not get enough of calling her his wife.
"How then, my husband, will you tell the King that you are not the heir after all, without exposing those who—through love and regard for you—have placed themselves in danger of what could amount to a treasonous act?"
"Treasonous... surely you go to far, Hannah." David paused, however, as he considered her words and looked carefully at her, repeating, "Treason?"
"Mayhap not so severe, but I am sure the King would have little sense of humor, knowing that his peerage has made so free with the titles of his crown. He may begin to wonder who else may have done similar things and start an investigation, which I must point out, would do you no good with your fellows of the aristocracy."
Seeing that her argument was having little effect, she added the ringer. "And of course, David there are your business concerns. Do you think the King would stop at ruination? He would not, I assure you. To be so publicly humiliated by one of his Lords... it would enrage the man."
"Prinny? He is a veritable pussycat. No... I think he would laugh heartily and slap me on the back in congratulations for managing to execute this fraud." David was on thin ice, and his voice showed it.
"Yes, well..." Hannah tilted her head to one side, studying her husband. "Do you remember a man by the name of Beau Brummell?"
She added the final touch, mentioning the hapless fellow who had angered the King for nothing more than a few witty remarks at His Majesty's expense and paid for it with exile.
Hannah read the Times avidly and was well versed in the goings on at court and in the ton, even though the paper was sometimes weeks old.
David stopped arguing at this point, for he remembered well the circumstances of poor Beau's fall from grace and had been at one of the balls where the Regent had cut him dead. He shuddered to think of that happening to him... or worse, to his family. "Hannah, you have made your point. But there are still things that bother me about this whole business."
"Such as?" Hannah preened, just a bit, at her victory, but grew thoughtful at his next words.
"Such as... so many people being involved who know the truth... and there is my mother. She will not take kindly to this, I am sure, for she has been much admired for her bravery in shunning marriage with the demned lord of the manor." He frowned just to think of it. "It will make her look a fool."
Hannah sighed, recognizing the dangers of two many cooks in the kitchen. After some careful thought, she gave an irrefutable argument. "If any here were of a mind to tell what they know, surely they would implicate themselves as well. I think we are safe in assuming that your grandfather and Darwin, too, would be inclined to uphold family honor and keep their own council.
"And Mr. Maguire, though not family, belongs to a family that has served yours in the capacity of legal counsel for almost two hundred years. He, too, prides himself on our family honor."
"And my mother?" David quizzed her with a sardonic smile, for he knew even Hannah could have no answer to this dilemma. "What will we do if she denies the whole thing?—which she might."
"I do not think she will, David. If you go to her and explain the circumstances, and that none of this was your doing—and don't forget to tell her about the King—she will forgive this and be done with it."
"Oh very well, then. I suppose you have the right of it. I vow, I do not mind being the Marquis... I did mind not telling you the truth of the matter, and would have told you, had you not found out through devious dealing."
He grinned at her and swung her into his arms, his lips hovering just above hers, as he whispered, "I do love you, my little night bird. I would take you off to the cottage, but my mother has requisitioned it for Carlton."
"What mean you by that, Milord? Surely your mother has not... ah, would not... " She looked the question at him, and he shook his head.
"No, it is too soon, or too late, which ever fits best the situation. She says that grandfather has taken a liking to Carlton, and he has decided to stay in the area for a while. I believe he has no other place to go. Told me that his family was wiped out almost completely in the influenza epidemic. He comes from near Derbyshire, and has lived most of his life in London. But that is another story for another time."
"David... "
"Hush you now, my love, for I cannot kiss you if you are talking." David proceeded to show her how very much he did love her, and it was a while before they returned to the drawing room.
David went that afternoon to see his mother and explained the situation, asking her advice, though he had already made up his mind in view of Hannah's arguments that he would proceed as the Marquis.
"What then will you do my son? Are you planning on becoming like your father?" Mary was truly worried, for she had seen much in her life and knew better men than David had become spoiled by riches and power.
"Never say so, mother. Although, you must admit there were certain qualities about my father that I would emulate, and, at the end, he proved himself a generous, if not gracious, old fellow."
"Yes, and he had planned this all along. He told me about your marriage lines, but swore me to secrecy and I fear I was enough in my cups to give my word. I did not know about these falsified marriage lines, however, for he had done it behind my back. I am only surprised at my father's part in it. The old fool could never keep such a secret from me, or so I thought. He knew I would not agree. "
"Why would you not? It would mean, as indeed it does mean, my salvation." David, a bit uncomfortable—for he knew his mother disapproved of this arrangement—squirmed inwardly.
"It is hard to explain, my son, but I shall try. You see, when the Marquis demanded that I wed him—and he did it often, I vow—I would always put him off, for that life is not what I was born to. 'Tis unhappy I would be in a drawing room with servants snooping about, minding my business.
"I am a woman who must do for herself, and because your father could not see how misfit I would be in his world, he continued to plague me. 'Tis the reason we parted at last. He demanded once too often and my temper got away. Called him an arse, I did."
She grinned, then became serious once more. "Well, getting to the point, 'tis my principles in question here. I have always been known as Mary Strongbow-who-told-the-lord-of-the-manner-to-go-bugger-himself and now I will be perhaps laughed at."
"And you would sacrifice my future for want of being laughed at a bit? Mother, I know you better. Come clean then, and tell me the truth."
"'Tis the truth, lad. The whole of it." Mary hung her head and would not look at him.
He lifted her chin and bussed her cheek, a
s a way of showing his understanding. "You did well by me, my good mother, and I shall never think otherwise. If you have more pride than sense... "
This last was in a teasing voice and drew a light slap from her. "Do not think to get round me with your teasing ways. Save that for your wife." She sighed and looked at him carefully. "Bring me the boy tomorrow. There is much to do to undo our beloved Clayton's handiwork with that child."
David went home feeling better, but it would be awhile before he truly was comfortable in his new role, and he often told his wife how he regretted the deceit.
One day, however, he stopped telling her, for David became accustomed to being the Marquis and his good works for the village was well noted. David Strongbow, now David Larkspur, the 16th Marquis of Darlington, was truly to the manor born.
The small gravestone had long since been removed, and now his father rested in the grave that would have been his. Sometimes he would go there and look down, remembering the sight of his own name on the stone, and he would leave a small spray of wildflowers in a little porcelain vase, whose golden gilding was chipping away.
Like Hannah had once done with him, David spoke in this quiet place to his father and once or twice he thought he heard the old man chuckle, but it was probably the breeze.
.
* * * * *
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Mary Strongbow thought about the final play of the man who had been her lover, the father of her child, and the bane of her existence. When the truth—or what passed that day for it—was revealed, she started to curse the Marquis but reflected upon the matter and commenced laughing loud and long, for the old devil had managed to reach from the grave with his manipulations, scheming and autocratic demands.
She cared not if the villagers thought her deceptive, for the future of her family was secure, and that mattered.
Chapter Twenty
~~
Mary Strongbow, with her intuitive skills, sensed that things in the manor house were not as tranquil as they appeared. On the surface all was well, yet beneath the calm ran currents of discord between the young Marquis and his lady.
The Silent Love Page 20