“That will not help you,” James said and gently pulled the bottle from Richard’s hand.
“You’re one to talk! You drank and whored your way through London for a decade after Claire died.”
“And I was wrong to do it,” James said. “As you and many others told me countless times through the years.”
Richard hated to admit it, but he knew James spoke the truth. Richard had always been a man of action. It was not like him to lay down and drink away his sorrows.
“You are mistaken about our parents. They did nothing to separate you from Belinda,” James said.
“How would you know?” Richard asked.
Years ago, their parents had disapproved of James’ attachment to a maid in their household — a penniless French emigree. They cut James off financially, and by the time he had independent means to marry, the lady had died. For years, James refused to speak to his parents. Recently, however, he had made peace with them, even going so far as marrying their cousin Anne, as their parents had planned since his birth. Richard guessed James’ eventual inheritance the earldom effected the decision.
“When you are sober, reconsider the facts as you know it.”
“Very well,” Richard said and glared until his eyes crossed.
Coffee arrived, and after two or three cups, Richard felt his mind begin to clear.
James cleared his throat after several minutes of silence. “You say Belinda was here?”
“Yes…” Richard trailed off, uncertain how much to admit to his brother.
“Mother never mentioned that. I have seen the note Lord Crenshaw sent to Father.”
“Belinda was not collected from here? But she was here that night. We met in the library.”
“How do you propose Belinda managed to enter without our mother aware?”
Richard stroked his jaw. “To solve that we should question the servants. Send for Carter first.”
A few moments later, the butler appeared in Richard’s chamber. “Sir?”
“Do you recall the evening of my return?” Richard asked after his guest had sat.
“Yes. A most unusual night, sir.”
“And why was that?” Richard asked and exchanged a look with his brother.
“Well, your unexpected arrival, of course, sir.”
“Was I the only person to arrive that evening?”
Carter looked at his feet, a very uncharacteristic action.
“You will not be reprimanded,” James assured him. “We are merely attempting to reconstruct the evening.”
“An hour or so before Mister Richard’s arrival, Lady Belinda Crenshaw appeared at the door. She begged for entrance and to keep it a secret from my lady. I believe that if my lord and lady had known she was on the street in the middle of the night, the least they would do would allow her to enter.”
“Did she come alone?” James asked.
“She brought her maid,” Carter flushed.
“How did she leave?” Richard inquired.
“Lady Belinda had asked to wait for Mister Richard in the library. When you arrived, sir,” he met Richard’s eyes, “I felt privacy would be the best option. Her maid and I ensured none of the staff came anywhere near the room for several hours. Betsy and I talked in the kitchen until the sun was just beginning to rise. Betsy’s mistress retrieved her then and departed.”
“We must be very clear on some points here,” Richard said. “Lady Belinda left under her own volition?”
“Yes.”
“Did her parents call that day?”
“No,” Carter looked away nervously.
“You may speak plainly,” Richard said.
“Lord Crenshaw sent a note to my lord which seemed to upset him greatly. The staff is not prone to gossip, you know, but we assume it must relate to the article in the paper.”
“Article in the paper?” Richard gaped.
Carter froze and remained silent for a moment.
“What article in the paper?” Richard pressed.
“I would repeat it to you, sir. It was a terrible piece of rubbish.”
James held up a hand. “Thank you, that will be all.” He showed Carter out.
Richard watched as his elder brother paced about the room, thankful he had the coffee lest he grow dizzy from his brother’s actions.
“I presume you know what the article says?” Richard asked.
“I cannot believe Lord Crenshaw would be such a dolt as to take it seriously!”
Richard crossed an ankle over his knee and waited for his brother to start making sense.
James spun on a heel and levelled his brother a grim look. “I have spent the last few days not only holding meetings regarding the frame-breakers but tracing who wrote a very defamatory article in the Gazette the day after I married.”
“Something besmirching your character?” Richard frowned.
“Not mine, yours,” James matched Richard’s frown. “And more importantly, Lady Belinda.”
Richard sat straight up and gripped the armrests of his chair.
“It reported that you had not wed Lady Belinda as planned and strongly hinted that you had learned unfavourable news about her.”
The string of curses which flew from Richard’s mouth would have caused his mother to blush profusely.
“Judging by the letter Crenshaw wrote our father, he believes Belinda’s reputation damaged, and the only way to heal it is to break ties with us.”
“Did you learn who was the source for such filth?”
James slightly nodded but a look of anguish and defeat crossed his face. “George Wickham.”
Chapter Three
Richard blinked at his brother. Another string of curses flew from his mouth, causing even James to colour. “If Wickham was not already dead, I would run him through with my sword!”
“He is dead?”
“Yes,” Richard said through clenched teeth.
He proceeded to tell his brother the details of the night at Huddersfield and Wickham’s subsequent demise when he attempted to open the door to allow the insurrectionists inside the mill.
“He had to be put down,” Richard said. “Darcy had already been hurt. Most of them did not have guns, but they were shouting words of hate.”
A chill crept up Richard’s spine. In foreign battlefields, it had always been kill or be killed. He had seen crazed and battle-weary soldiers turn on their own before. So had his valet, Jacob Truman, and thus why he had been so quick to do what was necessary. However, Truman reported that Wickham did not seem like those fatigued soldiers. Instead, it appeared as if Wickham had a malicious intent and desired for them to all die.
“Why would he do this?” James sighed and sat, at last.
Richard shook his head. “We never understood. He had some imaginary rivalry with Darcy that none of us realised how far he would take it. He attempted to slander the Fitzwilliam name, especially our mother. Next, he attacks me. Beware, Brother.”
“I know,” James murmured. “I had to send Anne away.”
“You sent your newlywed wife away?”
A strange expression settled on James’ face. “When I saw the newspaper report the morning after our wedding, I surmised it was Wickham. I had to be certain she was safe, and that meant being as far away from me as possible.”
“Wickham can do no further harm,” Richard said.
“Until we are certain everything he planned is behind us, I will take precautions.”
Richard gave his brother an incredulous look and James glared in return.
“Now, about you and Lady Belinda.”
“What of it?”
“We have new information, do we not?” James waved his hand as though everything should immediately become apparent to Richard.
“What is that?”
“Belinda came to you willingly and returned home.”
“I already told you she was here,” Richard said feeling his headache return. “What difference does it make if she returne
d home or if her parents collected her? If anything, it appears she desired to leave me.”
“Or,” James interrupted before Richard could say more, “it displays that she knew her parents would attempt to break the engagement and she chose to prove her loyalty to you.”
A thousand memories of that night washed over Richard. Belinda’s desperate plea and intoxicating kisses. The secret words they spoke as they gave themselves wholly to the other. “Why did she leave? I could have protected her far better here.”
James raised his eyebrows.
“Our licence was still valid,” Richard explained. “I had planned on summoning a clergyman and marrying her the very next day.”
“And did you say that to her?”
Richard coloured and looked away.
“What did you manage to say to her all those hours in the library?”
By the smirk on James’ face, Richard knew he need not explain himself. He turned the conversation to something of use. “What can we do now? Crenshaw would not speak to me. I do not know if she is still in London. More likely, she is at their estate in Essex.”
“Will you not play the hero and rescue her from her locked tower?”
The strange and faraway expression on James’ face was back, and Richard frowned. “I have orders to stay in London except when I am to return to the Regiment near Huddersfield.”
“Blasted Crenshaw,” James shook his head. “He knew the only way you would be able to reach her would be if you resigned your commission, which is what he wanted all along. I knew it made no sense for him to send her away when marriage to you would resolve the whole business.”
Richard grew silent. How was it that Crenshaw was profiting from Wickham’s perfidy? The word profit rolled around in Richard’s mind. Belinda’s parents had desired James or Darcy for her. He had refused his consent to Belinda’s first love over money as well.
“James,” Richard said after several minutes of silence. “I think we ought to investigate Lord Crenshaw too.”
“Why do you think that?”
Richard leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “See if his pockets are let. He must gain something out of keeping Belinda’s money to himself...or out of seeking out rich suitors.”
“I am not rich.”
“Far richer than Captain Seth Rogers or me and you will inherit most of Father’s income.”
“Are you certain you wish to do this?” James met Richard’s eyes. “Investigating her father may upset Belinda. What is more, you may not like what you find. No man of our circle is without blemish. We all have blood on our hands.”
His brother’s words made Richard lean back in his chair. He had not supposed James knew anything of the kind. “What do you know of it?”
“I may have shunned Fitzwilliam money for years and embraced trade, but it was built on the backs of men and women desperate for income. They do not have the luxuries we have, and too many of the same position as me are cruel. I pay well but have a rigorous hiring process. Those that do not meet the qualifications must seek work elsewhere, and it is often not enough to see to their needs. Babies and children go hungry all while I spend enough on fripperies to feed them for a year.”
“If you know of it, then why do nothing?” Richard asked.
“Claire was the one who opened my eyes.”
Richard nodded in understanding. Yes, James’ deceased first love would know the cost of the aristocracy being blind to the plight of the poor. She worked in the Fitzwilliam household after fleeing the Revolution in France.
“If she had lived…”
James trailed off, and for the first time, Richard understood his brother’s recklessness for the past ten years. It was not merely losing the woman he loved and the life he imagined. It was the ache of a prison of his own making. Knowing of the misfortunes of others but feeling incapable of making a difference robbed James of any peace of mind. To ease the feeling which might be enough to drive other men mad, he resorted to drinking, gambling, and whoring. Richard may have stumbled into his career as a soldier but had what James lacked. It was not a purpose or a drive of his own choosing, but Richard had learned very quickly that if he delayed action or were selfish, men died. His outlet for such concern was to be the best soldier he could be. James lacked any recourse.
“I am certain,” Richard said, returning the conversation to the matter of investigating Crenshaw.
“Very well,” James stood. “I have clerks looking into several other men so we might have leverage regarding the frame-breakers. I can add him without undue questioning.”
“You think it will become a matter in Parliament?”
“It already is,” James sighed. “Too many are desiring to make an example out of them. The poor fools,” he shook his head. “If only they knew. The men they truly seek to fight would hang every last one of them rather than give up a pence or one iota of power to an impoverished, illiterate mass.”
Richard merely nodded. He had no head for politics, and between serving so many years abroad and being an earl’s son, he could not pretend to understand the concerns of those that illegally broke machinery which could employ them. What he did understand, was the threat of rebellion or even civil war.
“Thank you for coming.”
Richard stuck out his hand. Instead, James engulfed him in a brief embrace.
“You are my brother, and I will protect my blood. Now, let us see after yours.”
After James left, Richard thought over the revelations of the day. If Belinda’s actions were a testament to her devotion, Richard would pursue her to the ends of the Earth.
*****
Belinda watched as the butler retrieved the mail from the errand boy who had been sent to the village. He leafed through the envelopes and then turned down the hall.
“Is that the mail, Dawson?”
“Yes, my lady,” he answered.
“Was there nothing for me?”
“I am afraid not,” he said.
Belinda’s heart sunk. She believed Richard would write if he could not journey to her.
“Nothing from my parents?”
“Only to the housekeeper and steward.”
Dawson gave Belinda a pitying look and her heart sunk further.
“Very well,” she gave him a false smile and returned to the drawing room.
If she played anymore pianoforte, her fingers would bleed. She glared at the instrument which she had begged her parents to buy when she had been only ten years old. She never would have guessed it would now be her sole companion in exile. She shunned the library, it housed too many novels with heroines in similar situations. They all awaited their hero to come rushing in and save them.
“Quit the dramatics, Bel,” she told herself.
She loved her parents, but neither were very bright. Faced with a ruined daughter and terrible gossip, they had made the only decision they could imagine. She supposed they had thought it kind of them, lest she face rudeness on the streets. Her mother stayed in London to help repair her image. However, Belinda had no sisters or companion. Her lady’s maid was from such a different position and education that she could not be a true friend. As Belinda had no guardian at home, she was not permitted to entertain guests or visit others. She could not stir beyond the garden.
Sighing, she sat at a table and drew out writing supplies. She would reason with her parents once more.
Dear Mother and Father,
I know you cannot believe the report in the paper. Richard never broke our engagement. We might have married as soon as he returned to London had you not insisted he resign his commission first. We could even now be wed, and all the gossip proved wrong.
What message does it show the world by sending me away? If I must leave London, might I stay with a friend?
I believe I can secure an invitation to Rosings, Kent from Viscountess Arlington. If I visit Richard’s sister-in-law, would this not erase some of the vile rumours?
If, by chanc
e, you succeed in altering Richard’s mind regarding our marriage, do you not wish me to wed at all? Allowing me to circulate amongst the wealthy and titled would help restore my reputation.
I grow so desolate and lonely here that I know not what I will do.
Your loving daughter,
Belinda
Belinda looked over her missive and said a quick prayer under her breath. She hoped they would not take her suggestion of staying with a wealthy and prosperous person and consider one of their friends or distant relatives. However, Belinda guessed if they had thought that a possibility they would have sent her there from London at the start. Additionally, if Arlington did not join Anne in Kent, then living with a woman estranged from her husband would hardly improve Belinda’s reputation. She hoped, though, that her parents would be just stupid enough to accept her suggestion without overly scrutinising it.
She drew out another paper and wrote to Anne.
Dearest Anne,
I had hoped by now to call you sister. If you have not heard, my parents have refused to allow me to marry or see Richard again and have sent me to our estate in Essex. When we did not wed at the same time as you and Arlington, a vile report showed in the paper the next day claiming Richard had thrown me off. Rather than proving the gossips wrong with our marriage or continued betrothal, this was my family’s solution.
You know that they rescinded their blessing when Richard had to go North rather than resign his commission. I believe their goal is to make him give me up entirely.
I hate to add to your concerns, my friend, as I know you are unhappy with the arrangement with your husband. However, I believe I have worked upon my parents. I have told them staying with you will restore my reputation.
At the very least, we can console each other as we work on our schemes to be reunited with our husbands. I will send this by express so I can have your answer as soon as possible.
Yours,
Belinda
Sealing both letters, she told Dawson to send the one to Anne by express and her parents by the regular post. Now, she would wait.
Three days later, Belinda had just placed another vase of flowers in the drawing room when Dawson entered.
Extraordinary Devotion: A Pride and Prejudice Novella Variation (When Love Blooms Book 3) Page 2