"No. Her child does have his colouring; I made it my business to see for myself, but that does not mean anything. There just does not seem any reason for her to lie and I have promised her my support."
"Of course," she agreed at once.
"Are you up to talking to her? Or would you prefer me to deal with it?"
"Send for her now," she answered. "I will talk to her, but only you know what you can offer her."
An idea occurred to Bethany as Caroline entered and Richard got to his feet to greet her. She curtsied briefly then looked at them with worried eyes.
"My Lady," she said. "You wished to see me."
"I am told your child is the result of a forced encounter, by His Lordship's cousin. Is that true?"
She merely looked at her for a few minutes, perhaps thinking about her promise not to bother her with it. Or perhaps wondering whether to speak her mind.
"If you mean did he rape me, My Lady," she answered boldly, "yes it is."
"You worked for him?"
"Yes, My Lady."
"What happened? How did it come about?"
Again she hesitated and Bethany saw doubt in her eyes. Richard had promised to help and support her and she was now wondering if his Countess was about to talk him out of it.
"He expressed an interest in me, but he would not take notice when I refused, just carried on as though I had not spoken." She blushed and her cheeks flared. "He said I was his servant and he could do what he liked with me."
Richard caught his breath and his jaw clenched angrily. Caroline dropped her head, no longer wanting to face them and her heart went out to her.
"I do not lie, My Lady," she muttered in an embarrassed tone.
"I believe you," she said quickly as she turned to Richard. "What about Lady Rachel's orphan home?"
"My daughter is not going into any orphan home!" Caroline cried out, forgetting all thought of deference; who could blame her?
"Oh, no," Bethany assured her quickly. "Lady Rachel is turning her house into an orphan home and she wants women to run it. It would give you and your child a comfortable home and give you a position where you can earn your keep. How does that sound?"
"Lady Rachel?" She said hesitantly, then her eyes met Richard's. "You mean your..?" Her head dropped.
"My mistress, yes," Richard finished for her without a trace of a smile. The poor girl blushed scarlet, not knowing where to look. She glanced at Bethany as though expecting some sort of objection. "I should say my former mistress," Richard went on, "as she has not held that position for many years."
"Forgive me, My Lord."
He glanced at his wife and they both smiled mischievously.
"I believe Caroline thinks she is being asked to supervise a house of ill repute, My Lord," Bethany said jokingly.
He laughed out loud at that, a sound which was not heard often but was well worth the wait.
"We are very unkind to be teasing you, Caroline," she said quickly, seeing her expression. "My husband and I are having a private joke at your expense which is extremely rude. Please forgive us."
She looked a little relieved, though not completely convinced.
"Yes," Richard agreed, "please forgive us."
"I expect you have met Lady Rachel's maid, Louisa." The girl nodded. "Her Ladyship rescued Louisa from a horrible orphan home where she was abused and had she not, the child would likely have been sent out on the streets to prostitute herself for the benefit of the man in charge. That is why she wants only women to run her house, and women of good character at that. By that I mean honest and caring. I have watched you with my son; I know you are caring. Lucy will oversee things and neither of you will have any cause to handle finances.”
Still she looked doubtful.
"Lady Rachel will not be returning," Bethany assured her. "She is relying on His Lordship to find suitable people to look after it and the children in her care. It is a beautiful house and you will have a comfortable position. Is that something that would appeal to you?"
"Yes, My Lady," Caroline said, smiling at last.
When she had gone, with a huge smile on her pretty face, Richard’s eyes met those of his wife and he was serious once more. She knew he was thinking about Anthony and how he had let the family down with his behaviour.
"How dare he?" He said angrily. "I did not raise him to be this man. Did I forget to tell him how wrong it is to take advantage of a servant like that? Or have I given the wrong example somehow?"
"Do not start blaming yourself, my darling," she soothed him. "It is the same thing he did to Rachel. He thinks all women are there for the amusement of men, no matter their rank."
She wanted to change the subject, take his mind away from his depraved and treacherous cousin.
"Do you think we should find a name for the orphan home?" She asked. "It does not have a name, that house. It has always just been Rachel's house."
"We will discuss it with her, see what she wants. It ought to be named for her since she is the one supplying the building and the funds. Perhaps it will still be called Rachel's house."
***
Rachel decided the best name for her orphanage was indeed "Rachel's House" and she journeyed to Suffolk to officially open it herself. Lord Summerville invited many local dignitaries and people of wealth, in the hope of financial support, but it seemed that most preferred not to know about the thousands of homeless and uncared for children in the country.
Richard, however, refused to take no for an answer. Bethany knew he had influence over most of them, secrets which perhaps they did not want broadcast, but she had not realised he had a lever on all of them. As soon as they were made to believe it was a Summerville venture, and they were answering his invitation, not Rachel's, they accepted willingly enough.
"That is so unfair," Bethany told him as they were leaving for the opening. "She is doing something wonderful and still they will not speak to her because of this reputation she has with you."
"It seemed like a good idea at the time," he said sheepishly. "It was what she wanted and it worked. We had no idea of the direction things would take when I married. Of course, if everybody did not love you so much they would be kinder to her."
"It is so wrong. She is doing all this but still she has to call on you for support, just to persuade anyone to be civil to her."
"It is about the orphans, Bethany, not her. She does not care if I have to use a little persuasion to get their support for the children, so long as we get it."
Rachel refused their invitation to stay at Summerville Hall for the night, choosing instead to stay at her own house with the children. She said she wanted to be sure they all settled, but it was doubtful that was her motive.
When they arrived, the carriage stopped outside the front doors where many people gathered. As Bethany got down, Richard stopped and touched her arm, indicating the plaque beside the front door.
"Rachel's House welcomes the unfortunate in the memory of Lady Alicia Summerville, whose young life was so cruelly taken."
Their eyes met and tears sprang to hers, his too.
"Did you know she was going to do this?" She asked him.
He shook his head and was about to reply when Rachel herself appeared beside them.
"What can we say?" Richard said. "What a lovely thing to do."
Bethany stepped forward and kissed her cheek, once more feeling those curious stares.
"She should be remembered," Rachel said softly. "Her death gave you both a new start you might not otherwise have had. Perhaps God does have a plan after all."
She turned to welcome some guests and they stared silently after her. She was right, of course. Had Alicia not taken ill and died, Richard would not have released his wife from her prison. He would have found somewhere more comfortable for her, but he would never have seen her again, never forgiven her, never given them a chance to find the love which now meant so much to them. They would have been parted forever and it took the death of a sweet chil
d to bring about the joy they now shared.
Bethany turned to look at him and realised that he too was deep in thought, watching her closely. He took her hand and led her inside, where he proceeded to use his considerable charm on some very wealthy ladies in an attempt to part them from their money.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Summerville children escaped any major illnesses. Perhaps that was because their parents’ memories of Alicia were still so raw, that they lost her when neither of them were there to notice she was taking ill, nor to prevent it.
Even Alex had managed to recover from his early and traumatic birth and grown strong and tall. Both boys resembled their father, reminding Bethany of another little boy she had once met. She often wondered how Charles Carlisle and his adopted son fared, whether he had ever married, whether he had found himself an important role in the Protestant government of Elizabeth. He was a commoner, so had no place at court, but it had been known before for such a person to rise high enough to sit at the right hand of the monarch. Or perhaps, like his arch rival, he had discovered what a dangerous place that could be.
Rachel's House continued to admit more orphans and unmarried mothers who came to her for help in their plight. She seemed happy doing this work, albeit from afar, as it meant she could get some small revenge on her oppressors for some of the wrongs done to her.
The Summervilles knew how fortunate they were, but each time something momentous happened at court Bethany was afraid Richard might be called away. He assured her that, barring a war, it would not happen but her memories of that other Queen and her demands on him would not let her be secure in his assurances.
"Elizabeth does not want me at court, Bethany," he assured her as they started to dress and prepare for the day to come. "She is not going to trust someone who was a chief advisor to her sister, nor someone who was condemned for betraying that sister. She is not a fool."
"She has not yet married," she remarked wistfully. "She has entertained many foreign princes but so far none have suited and they say she is in love with Robert Dudley."
"I make it my business to know what is going on at court and I do not believe Elizabeth has any intention of ever marrying at all."
"Why? Does she not want an heir for the kingdom?"
"I believe it is more important to her to maintain her control, her position as Queen. I do not think she ever had any intention of giving that up and even if she is in love with Dudley, she would never marry him, not least because he is suspected of murdering his wife to make way for her."
"You were right, then," she said wistfully. "As always, your prediction that she would make a good queen was correct."
"As always? You do me too much credit. My estimation of Mary was not so accurate, was it?"
"No." She reached out and held his hand. "You were forced to take part in some horrific acts. I had no idea then how much you hate violence; I believed what people said about you. How foolish was I?"
His reply was to smile wistfully. These years since Mary's death had brought her a greater understanding of this man she had married. She had loved him then, but she had not known him, not at all, and she believed he would always feel shame for the part he was forced to play at the court of Queen Mary.
"There are still some wanting to put the Queen of Scots on the English throne," he said. "She is implicated in the murder of her husband, she has married the man responsible for his death and fled to England. Why anyone would want to put the silly woman on the English throne is beyond me."
"Anthony did."
"Yes," he replied thoughtfully, "and on that subject I have news."
"You have found him?"
She was not sure how she felt about that. All these years Richard had employed men to search for him, had people ready to take him as soon as he showed his face. Part of her hoped it would remain that way because although she had once wanted revenge and she knew her husband still wanted that revenge, the fact remained that she partly blamed herself for the way he had turned out.
"There are Catholic lords in the north who have plotted to murder Elizabeth and put Mary of Scots on the throne," he said in a dismal tone. "Most have been captured and imprisoned in the north, but a small group tried to escape south. I am told my cousin is among them."
Should she feel guilty that her first thought was not for Anthony, but for Richard, for their family? He had informed on his cousin before in order to defer suspicion from himself, but if Anthony was proved a traitor, where would that leave them?
"What will that mean for us?" She asked him fearfully.
"I am not sure. It is possible Elizabeth will see we are not implicated, especially as I have already warned her of his leanings. On the other hand that was a very long time ago." He looked out of the window in silence for a few minutes, at the beautiful landscape, the farms, the cottages, the tower of the old church peeping out above the trees.
He laughed bitterly.
"One of the crimes with which he charged you was almost losing us Summerville. It seems he may have done that himself."
"No!" She ran up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, her face against his shirt clad back. "There must be something you can do. You are innocent. I know you do not support Mary Stuart; anyone who knows you knows that."
"It does not always matter whether one is innocent," he replied as his hand covered hers. "It is enough to be related to a traitor."
She slipped in between him and the window so that she was facing him, then she reached up and put her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against his chest. He bent his head and kissed her, his special kiss which could always thrill her, and began to untie her shift.
"You can always take my mind off my troubles," he murmured as he pulled her away from the window, "but we do not want to put on a show for everyone."
***
For the next week they awaited news of the northern rebellion and the fate of the culprits. Richard was despondent, worried that he may be implicated along with his cousin. He was also concerned that Anthony may try to deliberately implicate him to take revenge for Richard’s refusal to take his side against his wife.
When a messenger from London arrived, they both expected news from Richard's spies who had been tracking his cousin's movements, but he said nothing. He saddled his horse and went out riding for two hours, which he often did when he had things on his mind, when he needed to think, just him and Ebony, that beautiful black stallion who was his pride and joy. The horse was growing older and Richard had bred a colt to replace him when the time came, but that time was not yet.
When he returned to the house she waited anxiously.
"The messenger, Richard," she asked at once. "You have news?"
He took her hand and led her into their sitting room, where they sat together, still holding hands.
"I have a despatch from Anthony," he said after some hesitation. "The trial is done with, such as it was, and it seems he is to be executed."
She caught her breath, although it was hardly a surprise.
"What about us, Richard? What is he saying?" She held out her hand for the letter. "May I see?"
He shook his head. No. He did not want her to read the venom in his cousin’s words, words which blamed her for his downfall. Had it not been for her, he declared, he would never have left Summerville Hall, would never have involved himself in the Catholic cause. Her betrayal had proved to him that the Catholics had God on their side.
Richard could hardly believe his cousin could be asking him a momentous favour whilst insulting his wife with every word he could think of. How did the stupid man think that would convince him?
Richard supposed he thought she was responsible for his rape of a serving girl as well.
"I would rather you did not," he answered. "It is rather an unpleasant letter. It goes into detail about the execution and what I have to do to prevent it."
"You? How?"
"It seems they have condemned him as a commone
r, since he has no title. That means he will be hanged, drawn and quartered on Tyburn Hill." He paused again, while her imagination vividly showed her that gruesome death. "If I claim him as a close relative, he will be beheaded."
"Then you must do it, at once," she declared. He shook his head, slowly, anxiously. "You must! I know how angry you have been with him and I know the damage he almost caused, but you cannot let him suffer such a death. You raised him!"
"It is not that simple, Bethany," he sighed patiently. "If I claim him as a close relative, it is more than likely that I will be suspected. This is a Catholic plot and the Queen knows full well that all the Summervilles are Catholic." He looked at her with a frown before he went on. "All except you that is. But I doubt that will save us, since nobody will believe a wife would choose her own faith over that of her husband. I have to be seen to disapprove of his actions and the only way to do that is to disown him."
"So, once more the past will haunt our future," she said. "It is my fault he left, my fault he got mixed up with conspirators. How am I going to live, knowing that I caused this?"
"Bethany, nobody asked him to do something so foolish. Besides, I have been thinking a lot about his argument with you since his arrest."
"What do you mean?"
"Did it ever occur to you that his reasons were just a ruse, an excuse?"
"Once, when I accused him of wanting to part us so he would inherit Summerville. You know; you were there."
"Yes, you did, and now I believe you may have been right."
"No. It was my betrayal that he could not get past. It was my fault."
He sighed heavily, a frown on his handsome face.
“I think not. I do not believe he had your best interests at heart nor mine either. When I first told him about you, he was dubious, but he was too young and inexperienced to argue. I believe he wanted you to betray me, perhaps with a lover, perhaps some other way; he expected us to part somehow. When Alicia died and I brought you back here, he was furious. He tried to talk me out of it, even though you and I were still not on good terms and did not know if we had a future together.”
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