by Laura Martin
‘Father loved me, he would have provided for me.’
‘I told you at the time, I was his heir, I inherited the title, the estate, the money. He wasn’t even married to your...mother.’ He almost spat out the last word.
‘Yes, he was,’ Selina said serenely.
‘No, he wasn’t. You went to the church...you spoke to the vicar. He told you the sordid truth. You’re a bastard, a nobody.’
Beside her she felt Matthew bristle and had to quickly fling out a hand to warn him to stay back before he punched her brother in the face. Not that William didn’t deserve it, he deserved that and so much more, but finally Selina was going to be the one to stand up to him.
‘Father Whittle,’ she shouted, probably much louder than she needed to.
Selina watched her brother’s face, saw the expression turn from confusion to disbelief to outright panic as the elderly vicar came into the room.
‘You,’ he spat out, looking as though he wanted to throw the clergyman out of the window.
‘I went to talk to Father Whittle before I came to call on you,’ Selina said, taking a step towards her brother’s stocky form. ‘He told me of his regret in allowing himself to be blackmailed by you into denying my parents’ marriage. A marriage that did go ahead.’
‘You worthless little...’ William swore, turning on the vicar.
Father Whittle took a step back, bumping into a small table and having to reach out and steady himself.
‘It does make one wonder,’ Matthew said quietly, ‘if you lied about that, what else did you lie about?’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ William blustered.
‘I should imagine it was rather easy. Your sister was grieving, in no position to dispute anything you said. All you needed was a crooked solicitor to lie about the will and you could be rid of Selina and the money I have no doubt her father bequeathed her would now be in your pocket.’
‘That is slander.’
‘I wish to see Father’s will,’ Selina said. ‘I know his signature, I helped him with his correspondence for years. Show me the will and if all is in order I will leave you alone and be out of your life for ever.’
‘I don’t have it here. It was eighteen months ago. It will be with the solicitors, if they kept a copy.’
‘I was thinking about that,’ Matthew said. ‘Who made your father’s will? He must have had his own solicitor.’
‘Mr Humphries. He passed away a little before Father.’ Selina eyed her brother. ‘But he had a son, also a solicitor, I’m sure he will be pleased to help us get to the bottom of this.’
‘There is nothing to get to the bottom of,’ William said, drawing himself up. ‘I am the son and heir, you are nothing, an afterthought with the daughter of a housekeeper.’
‘Lord Northrop,’ Matthew said, his voice cold and hard and authoritative, ‘I think you are one of the worst kinds of people. A cheat, a crook, the sort of man who would turn out his vulnerable sister and pocket the money that was rightfully hers.’ He held up a hand to stop William from interrupting and Selina was surprised to see her brother close his mouth and remain silent. ‘I’ve been making enquiries about you. I know of your political aspirations, your desire to climb higher through the ranks of society. And I know how much someone like you values your reputation.’
Selina watched as her brother weighed up Matthew’s words, as if deciding whether to listen a little longer or throw them out there and then.
‘I am willing to offer you a deal. Show us the will, the genuine will, and hand over what is rightfully Selina’s and all this will remain private. Not a word will get out to those you seek to cultivate as your patrons.’ William gave Matthew a long, hard look. ‘Continue to deny your deception and I will pursue you with all the might of my power and influence and money. No one in England will be ignorant of the sort of man you are.’
William stood completely still for ten seconds, his eyes flicking between Selina and Matthew, his expression unreadable. Eventually he spoke. ‘I will see you at Mowbry’s solicitors tomorrow at ten.’
Selina felt like shouting with joy. They hadn’t seen the actual will yet, but she knew it would contain some provision for her, and more than that she knew that everything she had thought about her father when he had been alive, about his love for her and his love for her mother, had been true.
Matthew offered her his arm and together they walked out of the drawing room, trailed closely by Father Whittle. Outside in the hall Mrs Shelby was waiting for them and quickly bustled downstairs to fetch the children.
‘Did you win?’ Theodosia asked as she came into the hallway.
‘I rather think we did,’ Selina said, taking the little girl’s hand.
‘Good.’ Priscilla was close behind her. ‘I don’t like bullies.’
‘Come.’ Matthew gathered them all together and ushered them out into the street. ‘I’d rather not stay here for any longer than we have to.’
* * *
Selina followed Matthew out on to the street, feeling dazed with shock. They had just spent the last half an hour with a shifty solicitor and her brother, going through her father’s will. There had been the expected initial bluster, where the solicitor had pretended to have misplaced his copy, quickly remedied when Matthew had reiterated his threat to make William’s shady deeds public. Finally the solicitor had brought out a pristine copy of her father’s will, complete with genuine signature.
‘It seems you are now a lady of means,’ Matthew said with a triumphant smile. ‘Probably one of the most eligible of the Season.’
‘Perhaps I was too hasty in agreeing to marry you,’ she said, unable to keep the smile from her lips.
‘Ah, but you did agree and a woman of good moral character such as yourself would never go back on such a promise.’
‘Very true. It would seem I am stuck with you.’
He stopped for a moment, spinning her to face him.
‘Congratulations,’ he said, ‘on finally getting the truth from your brother.’
‘I couldn’t have done it without you.’
‘You could. I just sped things along.’
It was true—without Matthew she would have one day found out what her father’s will had contained, but Matthew and his influence had hastened that moment probably by a couple of months.
‘You now have a house to retreat to when I become too much to bear,’ he said.
‘Thank goodness for that.’ Not that Selina ever thought she would want to spend a night away from her husband to be. Still, it would be nice to spend time in the house she had called her home until the death of her father. In his will he’d been scrupulously fair, splitting the property and money quite equally between his two children. William had inherited Northrop Hall where he’d spent much of his childhood and Selina the house in Cambridge where she’d spent much of hers. William had inherited the money, but Selina had been granted a very generous allowance, meaning she could live in comfort for the rest of her life. It was fair, just as her father had always been.
‘I’m very glad I met you,’ Selina said, looking up into his dark eyes and feeling the familiar warmth spread through her body. ‘Do you know, I considered turning round and running back to London when I first set eyes on Manresa House. I’m very glad I didn’t.’
‘I’m very glad you didn’t, too.’
Drawing her in closer, Matthew kissed her, running his hands down the length of her back. Selina felt the rest of the world slipping away as Matthew filled all her thoughts.
‘Ew, they’re kissing again,’ Theodosia said.
‘They’re always kissing,’ Priscilla said with a resigned air, shaking her head as if she had to put up with more than a nine-year-old should.
‘Always kissing,’ Matthew murmured in her ear. ‘That sounds like a good idea.’
Selina took his arm, smiling as Theodosia grasped hold of her free hand. Priscilla slipped her hand into the crook of Matthew’s other elbow and together they walked down the street. Her perfect little family she’d found in the most unlikely of places.
Epilogue
Matthew closed his eyes and spent a moment revelling in the warm sun and the spray of sea on his face. They were making good progress, after a week spent barely moving as the wind dropped and the ship bobbed without travelling more than a mile in a twenty-four-hour period. Soon they would catch their first glimpse of India and already he could feel the anticipation building.
‘Can you see anything yet?’ Selina asked as she emerged from below decks with Theodosia and Priscilla in tow. She was holding two letters in her hand, the correspondence she’d promised to write her friends Violet and Felicity on the voyage after a tearful farewell just before she had boarded the ship. There would be no opportunity to post them before India and Selina had asked the Captain of their ship to take them back on the return voyage.
‘Not yet. Keep watching the horizon, I think you’ll see the first outline of the shore very soon.’
He watched indulgently as Priscilla and Theodosia jostled for the best position, settling themselves up against the rail and squinting into the distance. As the wind whipped their hair backwards he was reminded of his brother looking wistfully out to sea as they stood on the beach at Whitby as children. These last few months he’d noticed more and more of his brother in the two little girls he loved so much. They reminded him of the boy he’d looked up to, the boy who had been his ally throughout a difficult childhood. For so many years he’d forgotten that boy, all his memories overshadowed by the betrayal over Elizabeth and Henry’s part in that, but slowly he was coming to accept that Henry had only been young himself at that time and had lived with constant pressure from their father. Matthew smiled to himself—his older brother couldn’t have been that terrible if he’d helped to raise two such wonderful little girls.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked Selina, stepping down and coming round behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle.
It was his favourite position at the moment, allowing his arms to cup her stretched belly, his hands pressing against her skin. Every so often he would be rewarded with a little kick from the baby nearly fully grown inside.
‘I’m looking forward to feeling solid ground underneath my feet,’ Selina admitted. She’d suffered the first half of the voyage with terrible sickness. At first they had assumed it was from the motion of the ship, but as time passed and everyone else found their sea legs Selina had confided in him that she thought something more might be contributing to her nausea. Sure enough her tummy had begun to swell and now by their calculations she was almost eight months pregnant.
‘Solid ground and a proper bed,’ he said. ‘And a meal cooked with fresh ingredients.’
‘Vegetables.’ Selina sighed. ‘I don’t know how you lived aboard ships when you were in the navy. I can cope with one voyage, but only because I know it will end.’
Right now his time in the navy seemed a distant memory—everything before Selina seemed a distant memory. He couldn’t imagine what he had done with his days before they were filled with the laughter and arguments of his nieces and the soothing words and sweet nature of his wife.
It would be strange returning to India with his family in tow, but they had all decided it was necessary. Matthew needed to spend a little time sorting out his business, finding the right people to hand over responsibility to and organise things so he could run it from England going forward. There had been no question of leaving Selina and the girls behind, so together they had planned the trip, deciding that there was no better time. They would likely be gone from England for two years, with the length of the voyages and the need to spend some time travelling round to tie things up. Priscilla was ten, so even if they were away a little longer than anticipated they would still be back in England in plenty of time for her to begin learning how to deport herself as a debutante.
‘I’m glad we didn’t turn back,’ Selina said, allowing herself to sink into his arms.
‘Me, too.’ When they had discovered Selina was pregnant he had offered to find them all a passage back to England so Selina could give birth at home. She had waved away the suggestion, telling him thousands of women gave birth in India every day. He’d acquiesced, having learnt that when Selina set her mind to something it wasn’t easily changed.
‘There,’ Priscilla shouted, pointing into the horizon. ‘I can see land.’
Matthew and Selina turned to the rail, both looking out over the sparkling blue water. Five seconds passed and then ten before Matthew could focus on the very faint outline of the coast of India.
‘I see it,’ he said, giving Priscilla a one-armed hug. ‘Good spot.’
‘I see it, too,’ Theodosia shouted, jumping with excitement. ‘I can see India.’
Silently Matthew gathered the girls and Selina to him and together they watched as the faint line on the horizon grew and became clearer, taking the shape of the country he loved so much. Now he would get to share it with them, to experience it with the people he loved the most.
‘When I walked up to Manresa House for the first time in the cold October rain this wasn’t where I pictured myself ending up,’ Selina said quietly. ‘I might not have been able to imagine how my life would unfold, but I’m very pleased with how it has.’
He kissed her, ignoring the over-dramatic sighs from Priscilla and Theodosia, pulling her into his arms and holding her tight to him.
‘I love you,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Never forget that.’
‘I love you, too. More, in fact.’
‘That’s not possible.’
‘Don’t you doubt it. I’ve travelled across half the world for you. Queasiness and all.’
‘That is commitment,’ he murmured. ‘But don’t forget you also shot me in the foot with an arrow.’
Selina pulled away slightly, her face taking on what he thought of as her governess expression.
‘That was entirely your fault,’ she said, pausing for a moment with a little smile on her face, ‘although I can’t pretend the memory of it doesn’t make me chuckle every now and then.’
‘Heartless,’ Matthew said. ‘I wonder why I love you so.’
‘Do you?’
He kissed her softly. ‘Never. You’re my saviour, my heart, my anchor.’
‘That’s a lot to live up to.’
‘Good job you’re the most talented woman I know.’
Selina turned back to the rail, allowing her body to relax into his arms. She studied the ever-growing shoreline while he studied her profile.
‘I love you,’ he murmured into her hair, before planting a kiss on her temple. Around them the sailors were calling out, busy preparing the ship for its arrival, but Matthew hardly noticed any of it. Instead all he could think of was Selina and his little family, and all the wonders he wanted to show them in the coming months.
He felt perfectly contented, perfectly relaxed...and then Theodosia started to lean out a little too far over the rail.
‘Get back,’ he called, pulling her by her dress as he felt her body begin to topple.
She tumbled to the deck and Matthew closed his eyes. Never would he be able to relax again. Despite himself he grinned. At least life wasn’t dull with Selina and the girls to keep him on his toes.
* * *
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Keep reading for an excerpt from Marrying for Love or Money? by Elizabeth Beacon.
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by Elizabeth Beacon
Chapter One
Fliss tried to ignore the panicky feeling that she might never find her friend’s dog again in this wild wood. Perhaps she should go back to Miss Donne’s house and admit she had lost it, but since she was lost herself she might as well keep looking.
She scurried down an unkempt path and wished she had insisted on walking alone this morning, despite her former governess’s protests. And she was no nearer to working out what to do next either.
The whole country was rejoicing and she felt out of step as she worried her way around this dratted wood. Napoleon had abdicated two months ago and the war that gripped Europe for most of her life was over. She was alive on a fine June day, had good friends and a profession she managed to enjoy until her latest employment ended and the sun was very definitely shining. Oh, and she was rich, thanks to her late godmother’s astonishing bequest of thirty thousand pounds. She had a very eligible offer to consider while she took a holiday with Miss Donne and there was still time to find the wretched animal before they were truly missed.
Then she remembered the latest tear-blotched letter from Juno Defford and frowned despite all those reasons to be cheerful. Her former pupil dreaded crowds of strangers and noisy, stuffy rooms, but Juno’s grandmother, the Dowager Viscountess Stratford, had ignored the girl’s fears and Fliss’s protests and insisted Juno make her debut in polite society while the bloom of youth was still on her. It had been a total disaster. The poor girl was miserable and lonely, despite London being en fête for the victorious Allied Sovereigns’ visit to celebrate peace. But Juno was in London and Fliss was here and she still had a dog to find, so she must worry about her former pupil later.