Legacy Redeemed (Redeemed, Restored, Reclaimed Book 1)

by Aubrey Grayson

  ***

  Susannah was midway through her treacle tart when she realized that she was sitting face to face with her Prince Charming. Though he wasn’t exactly acting charming now. But there was no longer any doubt it was he. And the worst of it was, he knew. How stupid of her to tell the truth when Mr. Robinson had asked how she’d learned of the cottage. Had Nicholas Daventry come to make use of the cottage himself? How terrible it would be if she was interfering with his plans.

  Susannah used the rest of the tart as an opportunity to school her expression and quiet her breathing. There was no sense giving in to panic. Either he would expose her lies, or he wouldn’t. How much did he really know anyway? She hadn’t revealed much during their library conversation. And although he seemed to want her to acknowledge him, he didn’t seem bent on her destruction. At least not during dinner.

  Somewhat calmed by this realization, she cleared her throat. “Mr. Daventry, will you be staying at the vicarage for the duration of your visit?”

  He only had time to narrow his eyes at her before Letitia spoke. “Oh, Nick’s place is just down the lane. Poppledown Park is far more comfortable than the vicarage.”

  “Yes,” her nemesis—for that was what it felt like now—cut in. “It is an inheritance from my grandfather. All the rest of the family properties went to my brother, of course. The Earl of Weston. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”

  He was so pointed in his reply that even the vicar and Letitia gave him curious looks. There was no doubt she was found out. But she wasn’t ready to admit to all that he was her masked man.

  She nodded noncommittally. “Yes, of course.” She took a sip of water and gathered her courage again. Smiling more broadly, she said, “And how long will you be staying in Seaton, Mr. Daventry? Will you be in attendance at the Summer Garden Fair that Mrs. Powell is planning? I have heard her speak of it with great enthusiasm, and even attended a planning meeting. It sounds to be a most diverting event.”

  Nick looked rather sharply at Letitia. “Letitia, surely you are not organizing the fair by yourself? In your condition?”

  Letitia looked sheepish, and Mr. Robinson sighed as his daughter replied. “Well, no, of course the Ladies’ Committee of the church is helping.”

  Nick barked out a short laugh. “Yes, I’m sure that you’ve allowed them to help considerably. You’ve probably delegated the whole of the work, haven’t you?”

  By now, Letitia looked as though she wanted to stomp her feet in a temper. “Well, I want it to be wonderful for the villagers. And the ladies of the committee have so many other commitments—I don’t want to burden them.”

  Mr. Robinson broke in. “I was unconscious when it was decided, Nick. I had planned, of course, to work directly with the committee myself, but…” He shrugged, gesturing to his wheeled chair. “Well, when I awoke, Letitia was already so excited about the plans, I didn’t have the heart to appoint another chair. I had hoped impending motherhood would temper her…enthusiasm.”

  Susannah was quite relieved to have Mr. Daventry’s narrowed gaze leveled at someone other than herself, but didn’t understand why the men were speaking so to Mrs. Powell. The preparations for the fair seemed to be well underway and progressing smoothly.

  Mr. Daventry answered her unspoken question. “Mrs. Stanhope, you have only had a short time in Mrs. Powell’s acquaintance. And while I’m sure you’ve noticed that she is a lovely, kind woman, she is also the very picture of what many would call a managing woman. Often to the point of her own detriment.” This elicited an outraged gasp from Letitia, but still he continued. “The year that Mrs. Robinson passed on, Mrs. Powell took over the preparations for the fair and refused substantial help from the Ladies’ Committee. The fair was indeed lovely, but Mrs. Powell here fainted from exhaustion and was ill for two weeks.”

  “Oh! Surely not, Mr. Daventry!” Susannah thought at first to defend her hostess, but noticed that Mr. Robinson was looking grim and Letitia embarrassed, so she let the rest of her protest go unsaid.

  “Oh, surely so, I’m afraid. Letitia, when is the next committee meeting? I myself will attend to make sure you are not overtasked.”

  Letitia, still looking annoyed, said, “How lovely. I’m sure the ladies will be all atwitter.”

  Nick smiled back at her, clearly self-satisfied.

  For a moment no one spoke. Finally, Mrs. Powell rose and said, “I believe I’m ready to retire to the drawing room. Susannah, won’t you join me?”

  Susannah arose and followed her hostess. She thought now would be an excellent time to make her escape. With Mr. Daventry in attendance, the men would surely linger over a glass of port, and she could excuse herself from Mrs. Powell.

  When they arrived in the drawing room, she did just that, but not without a few kind words for her new friend. “Letitia, are you quite all right? Mr. Daventry was most unkind to you.”

  To her surprise, Letitia grinned quite broadly. “I tell you, it’s just like having another brother. He knows all my foibles and won’t let me get away with them! No, sweet Susannah, I am quite all right, but I had to put on a show of outrage for his benefit. He’s quite right, you know. But I will still be able to get my way from him, whether he admits it or not.”

  Susannah, who had never had a brother, thought Letitia’s words quite strange, but was relieved that her friend was not upset. She had half feared Letitia would dissolve into tears. As she had not, Susannah went on with her plan for escaping Mr. Daventry.

  She had just finished her good-byes with Letitia when the gentlemen walked into the room.

  “Oh, what luck! Susannah was just leaving, and now you can bid her good-bye!” Letitia called to them.

  Susannah curtsied and gave them a tight smile. She wished fervently that she had been just a moment faster.

  To her vast dismay, Mr. Daventry said, “Ah, then I shall escort you to the cottage, Mrs. Stanhope. Poppledown Park is but a mile past it in the same direction.”

  Her protest was quick, but Letitia was quicker. “Oh yes, Nick, do see her home! I know it’s but a stone’s throw, but I do so worry about her. I haven’t been able to sleep these last nights, I’m so uneasy.”

  This was news to Susannah, and she clamped her mouth shut on her protest. She looked at Letitia with concern, but Letitia just smiled placidly, and then, so quickly Susannah wasn’t sure she saw it, Letitia winked at her. Winked! For the first time, Susannah suspected that Mr. Daventry hadn’t erred in calling Letitia managing. Well, she could direct her managing efforts elsewhere, thank you very much.

  “I am perfectly capable of making it safely to the cottage. And I’ll have my maid with me. And I haven’t found Seaton to be particularly filled with footpads.”

  “Very well then. I shan’t escort you home.”

  At this, Susannah felt quite satisfied, until he added, “We shall simply be two people walking the same stretch of path at the same time. For I do have to pass the cottage on the way home, and we are, in fact, both leaving just now.”

  Alas, her independence was not so easily won. Nick had defeated it handily with a bit of logic.

  Curses. What could she say in response to that? She had already made herself look a fool, and she didn’t think she would improve the situation with more words. So she simply nodded and smiled feebly at him. She bade Mr. Robinson and Letitia good-bye and waited while Mr. Daventry did the same.

  Amy met them at the door, her brows rising when she realized Mr. Daventry would be joining them. She sank into a curtsey as Susannah introduced him and explained that he would be walking past the cottage on his way home.

  As it was just past the summer solstice, the sun was only just setting, and a bit of light remained. It was not difficult to see their way home, but even so, Mr. Daventry carried a lantern, for it wouldn’t be long before darkness covered all.

  Susannah had no real intention of changing her routine, but as soon as they set off, Amy lagged far behind. It was proper for her to lag a bit, but Susannah
noted that her maid was much farther behind than she had been when they had made the same walk with Mrs. Powell.

  Alas, it gave Mr. Daventry the chance to speak. “So we meet again, Mrs. Stanhope, after all. Though this time I have the pleasure of knowing your name.”

  Susannah felt a guilty rush of blood to her face as his words brought to mind her deception. Not to mention the humiliation of the masquerade ball. She had hoped never to be reminded of it, and the fact that he was standing here, doing just that, filled her with pique.

  But it was he who had told her of the cottage. And perhaps it was not that he was encroaching on her territory after all, but she on his.

  “Mr. Daventry, that evening we spoke of life-changing decisions. I must ask, though I fear the answer, is my presence here interfering with a decision that you must make? If so, I will cede all rights to the cottage and leave for London on the morrow.”

  He regarded her for a moment, mouth skewed in thought. Finally, he spoke. “I do indeed have some thinking to do. However, your vacating the cottage will serve no purpose. I am already settled in to Poppledown Park, I assure you. So do not vacate the cottage on my account.” He hesitated a moment before he added, “Mr. Robinson and Letitia seem to have grown quite fond of you in a very short time.”

  “And I of them.” She took a deep breath. “I have found the cottage to be as soothing to my soul as you described it to be. I would be very glad to continue on here.”

  Mr. Daventry nodded grimly. “Mrs. Stanhope, I am also quite fond of the vicar and his daughter. They are like family to me. So you will understand that I do not wish them to be hurt or abused in any way. And because I have reason to believe that you are not precisely the woman you are presenting yourself to be, I have concerns about their well-being.”

  Susannah’s spine stiffened. So he did know her to be a fraud. Well, so be it, as long as he kept her secret. “I assure you I have no intention of staying long enough to hurt them. Only long enough to make a new plan of action.”

  “Good.” Now he gave a smile that was almost a grimace. “I am very glad that you have found some peace here. When last we met, you were quite distraught.”

  Susannah gave a wry laugh, so quiet it was almost a sigh. “Indeed I was.”

  “So tell me…has any progress been made on this decision of yours? Are you closer to choosing a path?”

  Susannah considered. “Do you believe in destiny, Mr. Daventry? Sometimes I think my path has already been chosen, and this journey to the sea is only delaying the inevitable. But still I cannot quite seem to bear returning to it.”

  She half expected him to make light of her words, of her seriousness, and was surprised when he responded quite gravely. “No, I do not believe in destiny. I believe in providence, which is quite different, for it always works for our good. If this path, as you call it, is not for your good, then I believe that with a little wisdom and prayer, it can and will be avoided.”

  The breath rushed from Susannah’s lungs as though she had been hit in the stomach. His words were too good to be hoped for, too good to allow herself to believe. He didn’t know her past, didn’t know how foolish she’d been, how ruined she was. But still. She knew that she would treasure the thought he could be right.

  Chapter 11

  Light filtered into Susannah’s cozy room in the cottage the next morning, and she awoke. It had only been her home for a few days, but she noted the difference between this morning and the others she had spent here. Those mornings she had been full of hope for her future, hope that she could somehow carve out a future apart from Hector’s dastardly plans. And when she’d parted from Mr. Daventry last night, she’d even held out a little bit of hope that he might be right and that God would protect her.

  But when she’d laid her head on her pillow, her sense of reason had kicked in. God hadn’t paid her any heed for years now. Could she really trust Him? And Mr. Daventry knew more about her than she’d told him—he’d admitted as much. If he did, others likely did too. She wasn’t safe here. Hector would come for her. She could wait it out here or keep moving, and right now, moving on seemed the wisest choice.

  Dread settled in her stomach. Where would she even go? She’d spent a good portion of her money traveling here. She’d hoped to find a way to earn some funds, but no possibility presented itself. And she didn’t know what she would do anyway.

  She heard Amy bustling about in the kitchen, and she sat up. Mr. Robinson would be expecting her soon. She would miss him. She would help him with his correspondence today and then spend the rest of the afternoon packing her things. She rolled her eyes at herself. They had brought so little from London that packing up would mean little more than an hour’s work. She knew she was just delaying the inevitable. But maybe a day’s delay wouldn’t hurt too much. And her heart could use the comfort of this place. Maybe this one extra day would help her carry on in the next place. Give her the wherewithal to stay out of Hector’s grasp. She grimaced at the wishful thought, and rose to ready herself. Today she would say her good-byes to two people who had so quickly gained purchase in her heart. The first two friends she’d had in years.

  Amy raised her brows when Susannah explained her plan for the day, but said nothing. At least at first.

  “He knows, Amy. He told me directly that he knew I wasn’t who I say I am,” Susannah said.

  “Yes, but knows what? That you’ve been unjustly treated by someone who should have protected you? That you’re escaping a life of imprisonment? I don’t know why you should fear that.”

  A bitter bark of laughter escaped Susannah’s lips. “When you say it, it sounds almost honorable. But I’m not blameless. I’ve made mistakes and earned my downfall. Mr. Daventry is concerned that I might hurt his friends, and although I would never intend to do so, I am afraid that my circumstances might. What if Hector finds out where I am? He won’t go easy on those who gave me shelter.”

  “Yes, miss,” Amy said, laying a bowl of porridge before Susannah. “But he also said that he would keep your secret.”

  “For how long? He is a gentleman, and we’ve learned how tightly gentlemen stick together. If he discovers I am Hector’s ward, he will send for him. And by the time we realize he stopped keeping the secret, Hector could be upon us.”

  Amy clearly longed to protest further, but her lips set in a grim line at the mention of Hector. She knew as well as Susannah that Hector would not go easy on them if he found them.

  Susannah finished her breakfast and bid Amy farewell, off to the vicarage to complete her duty.

  She looked wistfully at the garden. She’d barely spent any time there, and regretted it. She’d been enamored with the idea of cleaning it up, making it a space Mr. Robinson would be proud of. That her father would have been proud of.

  The vicarage was dark and quiet when she let herself in. She went directly to Mr. Robinson’s office, expecting to find him, as she usually did, at his desk, reviewing correspondence and maybe taking notes in his journal. He wasn’t there. She wrinkled her brow as she walked farther into the room, intending to begin her work alone. But then she noticed Mr. Robinson’s wheeled chair, and her gaze roamed about, finding him quickly.

  He had slid out of his chair and was kneeling in prayer before the cross on the side table. Tears ran down his weathered face, and he shook with silent sobs. Her body moved on its own, and before she realized what she was doing, she was beside him on the floor, offering him her hand. He grasped it and squeezed, the cool, dry skin of his hand enveloping her small, warm one.

  He raised his head and offered a sad smile in acknowledgment of her presence. She was welcome then.

  “What has happened?”

  His eyes closed, as though speaking of his pain would take the very life from him. Then he grimaced. His words came out softly. “It’s Letitia. I fear she will not be with us much longer.”

  Susannah raised her brows. It sounded like he was predicting his daughter’s death, but Letitia had been perfect
ly well when she’d seen her at dinner the night before. “Why do you say that?”

  He swallowed back a sob before speaking. “The swelling…she’s swelling. It’s a sign that she won’t make it. I…I don’t often talk about it, but I was married before I met her mother. My young wife was expecting our first babe, and then she started swelling. In a week, we had lost them both.” He dropped his head into his hands, his shoulders sagging with grief. “I don’t know how to notify her husband. I can’t bear to see his grief.”

  Susannah put her hand on his shoulder and then gave up on such paltry comfort, sweeping the old man into an embrace. “Hush, now, Mr. Robinson. I’ve seen this before too. Sometimes it is fatal, but sometimes it is not. There are things that can be done. Is there a midwife in town?”

  He looked up at her, shaking his head, his blue eyes haunted. “Mrs. McRae, but she’s gone to Surrey to help her own daughter. She’s supposed to return at the end of the month to help Letitia give birth, but little good that does now. And the surgeon’s been by already, but he tells us there is nothing to be done but wait and see whether she dies.”

  Susannah nodded. “Okay, well, that’s disappointing, but hope is not lost. My mother…was very interested in midwifery, and she always made sure we tagged along when she visited with ladies who were increasing. It’s been a few years, but I remember some of what she taught me. And of course, I have her journals. If you would like…I’ll go and speak to Letitia and pass on the remedies my mother used.”

  Mr. Robinson’s mouth gaped. “And your mother… Some people survived, you say?”

  Susannah nodded.

  Determination filled his eyes. “Yes. Go. Letitia’s in her rooms. Please go. Help my daughter.”

  Susannah squeezed his hands, relieved by his show of strength.