Mellington Hall

by Meredith Resce

  “What am I going to do?” Sarah asked tearfully when Alan re-entered the room. “Someone has tried to kill me. Why? What have I done?”

  “It is not what you have done; it is what I have done.”

  “What do you mean, sir?”

  “Sarah Montgomery, you have not only saved my life on two occasions, you have managed to capture not only my attention, but also my heart... ”

  Sarah held her breath as she watched this tall, handsome gentleman address her in a way that she had to admit she had been longing to hear for some time. She returned his gaze, waiting for more as she considered not only how their feelings had been developing, but also how the menace against them had become so much more threatening.

  “I should have done the decent thing before I left your father’s house. I knew that your neighbours would report what they had seen, and though I was reluctant to acknowledge my responsibility, deep down I knew that it would leave your reputation in tatters. The thing is, I had not realised how much trouble would result, and just how difficult it would make things for you. And I thought that if I just gave you a job and a roof over your head that it would make it all right. But all that aside, I realise now it wasn’t just about doing the decent thing. I’ve fallen in love with you, and while I stupidly thought it was best to hide my feelings, I have obviously done a very bad job. Someone knows, and they are afraid.”

  “Afraid of what?” Sarah asked.

  “The attempts against me, I believe, have been because someone is after my inheritance.”

  “Simon?”

  “Perhaps! I’m not sure.”

  “What has that to do with me?”

  “If I marry you, you could produce another heir.”

  Sarah blushed.

  “Someone saw the way I felt, and believes I love you enough to marry you.”

  Sarah looked at him, daring him to answer her unspoken question.

  “I cannot help it, Sarah. I tried to resist it, but ... ”

  “But you cannot marry someone of my class, remember?”

  “I’m not going to concern myself with whether you feel insulted or not, Sarah. I should have resolved this with your father weeks ago. We shall be married, and we shall get you to a safe place until the local constabulary has done its job and found out who is so obsessed with the prospect of getting my inheritance that they would be willing to kill for it.”

  Sarah said nothing for a few moments, trying to process all that she had heard. She had an idea that she should be feeling overwhelmed with happiness, because she was certain Alan had proposed marriage to her, but the fact that someone was still trying to kill them fuelled a fear that easily overcame any joy she might have felt.

  laire Montgomery was stunned when she went to answer the door and she found Lord Mellington and her daughter standing on the doorstep. She said nothing by way of welcome or any other greeting.

  “Mrs Montgomery,” Alan spoke instead. “May we come inside?”

  At first Sarah thought her mother was going to turn away and close the door in their face.

  Eventually she spoke. “Lord Mellington, perhaps immorality means nothing to you, but as Christians, you know we cannot and will not tolerate sin. We have to make a stand.”

  “You are quite right,” he answered graciously. “But right from the start, you have never heard the truth about the situation that occurred during that week that you and your husband were absent.”

  “I do not wish to hear any more on the subject... ”

  “But you must. Your daughter has been accused, judged and humiliated, and it has been the gravest injustice. She has done nothing worse than do what was absolutely necessary to save my life.”

  “Then why did you boast of your immoral conduct?”

  “I have never spoken of your daughter to anyone, save the Reverend, Mr Edwards, and then it was only to tell him of how she saved my life. My brother, on the other hand, seems to have taken great delight in trying to tarnish my good name, and in this instance, your daughter was implicated. My brother lied to your husband.”

  Claire was greatly troubled by what she was hearing. She had always wanted to believe that what Sarah had told her originally was the truth. She had no reason to believe she would lie. But everyone else seemed so ready to condemn her.

  “May we come inside?” Alan asked her again.

  Claire might have been willing to sit and listen to the whole story from beginning to end, but Phillip was not quite so easy to deal with.

  “Get them out of my house!” he said uncompromisingly stern.

  “Please, Phillip, I beg you to listen to what they have to say,” Claire pleaded.

  “Do as I say, Claire,” he said angrily.

  “Please, father,” Sarah was close to despair at hearing her father’s harsh denial.

  “You heard me, Claire.” Phillip turned to climb the narrow stairs up to his room.

  “Mr Montgomery,” Alan stood, and spoke with authority. “Since you are in my employ, I suggest that you come back and sit down and listen to what we have to say, or I might find it necessary to dispense with your services and you will be without a home to live in.”

  Phillip heard Alan and knew that he had no choice but to do as he was asked.

  Alan told the story again, making sure that every detail was discussed, including the parts of the story that had already been considered as compromising, and had added to the fire of gossip that had been burning through the village.

  “I am here now to beg your forgiveness, sir, for not having come earlier to set the record straight.”

  Phillip sat tight-lipped. What could he say? He had heard some of the story before when Claire had repeated Sarah’s original version, but had chosen to disbelieve it in favour of the word of Simon Mellington. He had never actually spoken to Lord Mellington to hear a defence for the things charged against him. He had understood that Alan had boasted of his immoral conquest, and that he was proud of his actions. But it had been Simon he had spoken to, and it had been Simon who had made the vulgar insinuations which he had believed.

  “Do you believe me, Mr Montgomery?” Alan asked, unaccustomed to having to beg someone beneath him to relent.

  “What do you propose I should do about it now?” Phillip asked, sounding sulky.

  “I propose that you give me permission to marry your daughter, and help me to silence the gossip that has fairly set the district about the ears.”

  “It is quite late to be asking permission, is it not?”

  “As I have already told you, there has been nothing immoral between us, despite the few times where circumstances might suggest otherwise.”

  “So you seek to assuage your conscience?”

  “Good sir, I have come to know your daughter very well, I am naturally grateful to her for her courage and care, but I have also come to respect her, and dare I say it, to care for her very deeply.”

  “What of your position?” Phillip asked, sounding sceptical.

  “My position would be in the graveyard if it were not for your daughter. I now consider I would prefer doing the right thing by Sarah than preserve my family status. Besides, surely you must know, she is a woman to be proud of.”

  “Then you do not know?” Claire asked.

  Sarah knew where her mother’s thoughts were tending, and she shook her head as if to ask her to say nothing about her grandfather’s inheritance.

  “Know what, ma’am?” Alan asked.

  “He knows I am educated, mother, and that I know how to conduct myself. That is all he needs to know.”

  There was silence for a moment, as each one considered their own thoughts.

  “Have you spoken to the Reverend Mr Snead?” Claire asked, obviously thinking things through. “He will need to read the banns.”

  “I have asked Mr Edwards from the New Church to see to all the necessary arrangements for our marriage,” Alan said easily.

  “That is not a proper church,” Phillip objected immedia
tely. “No wedding conducted in that place will be legitimate. My daughter must marry in the Church of England, or not at all!”

  Alan looked calmly at Phillip for a few moments, obviously keeping a rein on his reaction to this inflexible view, then he spoke evenly: “If you go to the Reverend Mr Snead and ask him to read the banns on our behalf, do you really believe that he will do it?”

  “Why should he not?” Claire asked, looking anxiously between her husband and Lord Mellington.

  “Has he not already declared your daughter immoral and unfit to be part of that congregation?”

  Both Phillip and Claire knew this was true, and knew also just how unforgiving their vicar was when it came to sexual promiscuity.

  “I shall have to leave it to you, sir,” Alan addressed Phillip respectfully, “but if you wish to prolong the situation, and cause tongues to wag yet more where we are concerned, then I am willing for you to approach Mr Snead. But I am not going to leave Sarah’s side again. The sooner we are married, the better. Mr Edwards has already said he will read our notice of intent this coming Sabbath.”

  Phillip knew he could object further, but was not so stubborn that he could not realise that what he had said about Mr Snead was very true. In fact, when he thought about it, he had not the first idea of how he could even approach the subject of arranging the marriage of his disgraced daughter. But his views on the New Church had already been firmly influenced. It was a rabble of a congregation with no oversight by the Archbishop, and a minister who took far too much interest in matters he had no business meddling with.

  “But a marriage must be legitimate,” he objected rather weakly. “That group who call themselves a church have no connection with proper, decent religion, and no marriage will be recognised that is not conducted by an ordained minister of the Church of England.”

  “Would you prefer that we elope to Gretna Green?”

  Sarah herself was alarmed at this appalling idea. She had already been marked by scandal for things she had not done, and now Alan was proposing something equally frightful, only this time, there would be truth in the accusation. She went very pale, and Alan noticed it. In fact he had been very aware all the time of how she was responding to this difficult interview.

  “I am sorry, my dear,” he said softly. “I would not expect you to do something so disgraceful.”

  “Then why do you suggest it, sir?” Claire said, angered by the very idea of elopement.

  “It was stupid of me, ma’am,” Alan admitted. “I have always been aware of the prejudice that is aimed at my congregation of worshippers, and I am often frustrated by it.”

  “It is not a proper church!” Phillip maintained stubbornly.

  “And yet, Parliament has only last July passed a bill which allows couples to be married in the church of their own religion.”

  “That cannot be true!” Phillip said angrily. “The Church of England is the only church legally recognised!”

  “I am a member of the House of Lords,” Alan said calmly. “I sat through the debate. Parliament has agreed on the new law to give relief to the dissenters and allow them to marry in their own churches.”

  “My daughter is not a dissenter!”

  “What am I then, Father?” Sarah spoke up. “I understood that I had been cast out of the church.”

  Everyone in the room was feeling the tension of the exchange.

  Eventually, Phillip stood up.

  “You had better be right, my lord,” he said as he opened the door to leave the room. “I am still not convinced that you are not taking advantage of our family.”

  Phillip did not return indoors until well after dark. Claire had worried over him, but did not discuss it with her daughter or Lord Mellington. But they both knew that it was odd behaviour.

  By the time he finally returned, only Alan remained sitting by the fire.

  “Why are you still here?” Phillip asked bluntly.

  “We will be staying here for the time being,” Alan answered evenly, unruffled by his prospective father-in-law’s aggressive manner.

  “You will not!” Phillip began. “You have your home, and you can jolly well return to it. You are not welcome here.”

  “I told you, Mr Montgomery, that I will not be leaving Sarah alone ever again, and I mean what I say, sir.”

  “You mean to continue your fornicating ways in my house,” Phillip shouted. “By heavens, I will not allow it!”

  Alan stood up feeling exasperated.

  “I am a God fearing man, sir, and I mean to exercise patience, but by George, you are one of the most stubborn fellows I have ever had to deal with.”

  Phillip was set to continue his objections, but Alan cut him off.

  “Did you not hear what I told you? Someone in my house tried to kill your daughter last night. Is that what you want? Would you prefer that she had died?”

  Phillip’s state of mind had been so influenced by Mr Snead that he was struggling to think rationally, but the question about preferring to see his daughter dead shocked him.

  “I have never touched your daughter indecently,” Alan continued. “She is as pure as she ever was, and yet you still insist on believing that ridiculous story made up by your over-zealous neighbours.”

  “So you say, and yet you calmly sit here and suggest that you will sleep with her under my own roof.”

  “I suggested no such thing. I sat up with the express purpose of discussing with you how best the pair of us can protect the ladies. There have been three violent attempts against us. I believe one of us should stay alert at all times, take turns in keeping watch.”

  At last Phillip allowed a small amount of reason to help process his thoughts.

  “You believe the would-be murderer knows you are here at my house.”

  “I really do not know. I hope not, but then I do not know who the attacker is.”

  “Who did you tell? Who knows you have come here?”

  “I told no-one where I was going. I simply told my valet that I was taking Sarah to a safe place.”

  “Do you trust your valet?”

  “I used to, but now I’m not so sure. Phillip, I am truly sorry for what has happened, especially that Sarah has been so hurt by the whole business, but I want you to know that I will do anything to protect her now, both from the madman who is trying to kill us and from the vicious Reverend Mr Snead. She is a precious young woman, and if you have forgotten that, let me remind you of the fact.”

  “She should have gone for help,” Phillip said quietly, obviously returning to the point of the original trouble.

  “Perhaps she should have, but I really do not know. I was unconscious, and by the time I regained consciousness, I do know that the house was snowed in. She could not get out to get any wood, and I was too weak to help her. Then I went into a delirium again, and did not come out of it until the moment your good neighbours cleared the snow away from the door, and burst into the room. That is all there was to it, sir. I was too weak to do anything at all, and your good neighbours could have helped Sarah, or at least stayed and chaperoned us until I was well enough to be moved, but they did not. They left hastily without properly investigating the situation, and then they spread that malicious rumour.”

  “But she said she saw you lying together on the floor.”

  Alan was quiet.

  “Is that what she saw?” Phillip insisted.

  “When I became conscious the second time, Sarah was lying next to me. It seemed apparent to me that she had been trying to warm me. The room was ice cold. I saw her, but she was so exhausted she did not wake. I let her sleep on. In hindsight, I should have made her get up, but... well I did not, that’s all. She saved my life, sir, and what she got in exchange for that sacrifice has been nothing short of endless pain and heartache. She deserves far more.”

  Both men stared at each other, the many things that had been said, and much more that could have been said, tumultuously playing through each mind. But neither one said any
more.

  “You cannot sleep with her until you are married,” Phillip eventually said.

  Alan took a deep breath of frustration at having to go over it all again, but then could not bring himself to do it. Phillip Montgomery seemed to have the wrong idea firmly fixed in his mind, and Alan realised he was going to have to be patient about establishing the truth.

  “Do you want the first shift, or shall I take it?” Phillip asked, not insensible to the fact that his prospective son-in-law had just resisted the urge to protest his innocence once again.

  “I shall stay up, if that would suit you, sir,” Alan answered.

  Phillip nodded and got up without saying any more. He didn’t want to admit it, but a heavy burden had lifted from his shoulders. Having been forced to condemn his much-loved daughter had been terrible, and though he had done it in obedience to the command of the vicar, it had revolted him. Then he went to look in on Sarah just to indulge himself, thanking God for his baby girl, now a beautiful young woman. But when he opened the door to her small bedroom, he saw she was not there.

  “What game are you playing at?”

  Alan looked up from the book he was reading by lamplight to see Phillip Montgomery coming from upstairs.

  “What have you done with her?”

  “Sarah?” Alan got up, immediately alarmed. “Where is she?”

  “You tell me!”

  “What about Mrs Montgomery? Is she all right?”

  As Alan seemed upset, Phillip began to worry, and turned to go back upstairs to see if Claire had disappeared too. He knew Alan was following him. He burst into his bedroom making no attempt to keep quiet.

  “What is it, Father?” Sarah, who was sharing the bed with her mother, immediately sat up. “Is someone here?”