At his family townhouse, he was anxiously welcomed by his mother and father. He had been distant since awakening from his illness and being told he would never see Belinda again. James insisted that his parents did all they could for his sake. Increasingly, it appeared that marriage to Belinda would result in the displeasure of her parents. Richard supposed it would be better to have the blessing of at least one of their sets. Asking for forgiveness was long overdue considering his unjustified words and feelings, but as there appeared to be no forthcoming solution to marrying Belinda, his pride had refused to allow him. His words brought tears to his mother’s eyes and a familiar well-pleased smile to his father’s lips. They were the most loving parents in the world — even when they had refused consent for James to marry a servant girl.
“We are simply pleased you have returned to us again in one piece!” Lady Fitzwilliam said as she dabbed her eyes.
“Every day I read of more disturbances in West Riding — and elsewhere. The Lords grow restless.
Richard harrumphed and crossed his good leg over the opposite knee. “You should remind the Lords we already have a war with France, and we would be wise to not overextend ourselves.”
“They fear the frame-breakers harbour Jacobin tendencies and will invite a similar revolution on English soil.”
“Perhaps the best way to avoid that would be to see to their needs rather than answer them with imbalanced force.”
“No more political talk,” Lady Fitzwilliam chided them. “Richard, you ought to rest. We have guests this evening — some of your father’s associates. James also comes and will have several members of Parliament with him.”
Richard and his father merely shared a smile and shook their heads. The countess was irrepressible when she had a function to host. There would be time for more political talk later — made evident by the guest list. As Richard realised it was the first time in years his mother did not hound him about an eligible miss, his smile grew.
Dinner passed in the usual way with one rather interesting exception. As a younger son, Richard had grown accustomed to being overlooked. Tonight, the ladies clustered together away from him and whispered while darting worried looks his way. It appeared the gossip regarding his situation with Belinda had not begun to fade. Of course, they would dine with him but probably would have cut Belinda if they met on the street.
When the ladies separated from the men, conversation regarding the frame-breakers monopolised the hour. More alarming than the ones who called for swift and violent manoeuvres against the citizens was James’ inability to see the need to do anything at all. He insisted the issue would soon resolve. Richard could only shake his head in disgust at his brother’s ignorance. How typical for the spoiled eldest son of a gentleman! What did James know of hunger or cold?
After the guests left, James confessed the truth. “I only appear to believe such, so the others will not get their way so easily. Make no mistake, I believe we have to put down any chance of rebellion. As leaders, it is our responsibility to keep the peace.”
“And killing unarmed civilians keeps the peace?” Richard asked with doubt evident on his face.
“No matter how unfair some might find our present form of government, it is better than civil war.”
Richard winced for even children knew the terrible ramifications of the last civil war over a century ago. Prinny gaining a regency after his father’s insanity rather than a fight for the crown seemed nothing short of a miracle. Seeing he could not change his brother’s opinion, he turned the conversation.
“Have you heard from Anne? Has Belinda written?” He needed to hear from her like he needed oxygen in his lungs.
“I wondered when you would ask me that,” James grinned and pulled an envelope from his breast pocket. “I should tell you that I have discovered Crenshaw is near bankrupt. Tenant homes are in disrepair, he’s not paid his servants in months, and letters from creditors go unanswered.”
Richard nodded, he had expected as much.
“There is more,” James said and then paused. “He has spent Belinda’s dowry. If you marry her, you must live on soldier pay.”
“If?” Richard glared at his brother.
“When,” James amended. “I explained all to Anne and asked her to inform Belinda as I knew not when I would see you next.”
The lines on James’ forehead revealed what he meant but had not said. He had not known if he would see Richard again. Perhaps his family always worried about him so much, but he was usually abroad and not there to see their constant anxiety.
“The poor darling must have been devastated,” Richard muttered as he traced a finger over Belinda’s script on the outside of his letter.
“Anne says she bore it rather well. It appeared she had suspected as much. Of course, I will let you read your letter in peace.”
“What of your letter, brother?” Richard waggled his eyebrows. “No loving words from a heartsick wife?”
“It is not like that with us,” James said without expression. “We are friends.”
“Friends?” Richard evaluated his brother’s face. “Friends do not marry.”
“It’s been arranged since we were children. It was always meant to be a family alliance, and that is what we are — allies.”
Richard gaped at his brother. This man had drunk and whored all over England for a decade mourning the loss of his young love and had settled for that? He had not bothered to ask James about his feelings for Anne, but he had supposed they had to go beyond mere friendliness. For that matter, Richard felt rather protective of Anne and did not like the notion of his brother mistreating her in such a way. She was far too sheltered and likely built up a store of dreams regarding her eldest cousin and hopeful husband.
“James,” Richard said in a warning tone.
“I respect her,” James met Richard’s eyes. “I will not harm her. You have my vow.”
Richard chose to allow his brother to leave matters at that and busied himself with Belinda’s letter. Their courtship had been irregular, but he believed if he read between the lines correctly, Belinda asked for an elopement. There might be hell to pay, but it would be worth it. They would figure out how to live on his income or what to do with his commission later. If she was correct and her father had only refused consent for their marriage based on having nothing to offer them, then reconciling with him would be far easier. Still, he had had enough of allowing others to dictate his life. Belinda had no problem with his income, she assured him, and he had long planned on making her his bride. As a man of action, he would wait no longer.
*****
“Belinda,” Anne said as she entered her friend’s private chamber. “I have an idea for how you and Richard can meet without your parents knowing.”
“Do you?” Belinda asked and eased herself up on her pillows. Her stomach ailment and fatigue had not passed and the doctor had been unavailable. However, such news brought respite from her anxious thoughts.
“I have just received an invitation from Miss Jane Bennet for her wedding. She extends the invitation to you, as she knew from Elizabeth that you are staying with me. Do you feel you can make the journey?”
“If I might meet with Richard then I will face anything!” Belinda said smiling broader than she had in weeks. “Perhaps we can arrange to leave from Mr. Bingley’s house. Will you and James help us?”
“Of course, dearest. May I ask for your assistance as well?”
“Anything!” Belinda answered as she mentally considered how best to arrange matters. Richard usually travelled on horse, and she would not have her own carriage.
“I--I--I wish to seduce my husband.”
Anne’s words brought Belinda’s attention to the conversation at hand. Both ladies blushed as the meaning of Anne’s intent sunk in. Belinda would not have considered what she did with Richard as seduction, but she supposed she would excuse away her errors. She knew Anne meant no rebuke by the request and she agreed it was quite overdue.
“You might think me more accomplished than I am,” Belinda laughed. “All I did was ride to his house and argue with the butler about entering. Then I waited in the library, and he happened to enter.”
A great deal more happened then, but such things were to be kept private between lovers.
Anne nodded. “I see. I shall make his valet let me enter his chamber.”
Belinda blinked at Anne’s gusto. In the last several weeks, as she had attempted to teach Anne some things her mother had never bothered with and they both learned from Charlotte Collins, Belinda had noticed how quickly her friend learned things. This would seem to be no different.
“Anne,” Belinda said gently. “You are his wife and have certain rights. You are now Lady Arlington and can leave here and go to his residence in London. You might speak with him in person or surprise him there. You do not have to surprise him in Hertfordshire. If I had not believed my parents would soon send me away, and it would be my last chance to speak with Richard — perhaps forever — then I would not have needed to resort to such things.”
“You are correct, of course,” Anne said and sighed. “However, if I meet him in London then he will have the upper hand. He can order staff about and the next thing I know I will be on a carriage for Kent again. I do not blame him for not coming here — although Mother often points out it is only half a day’s drive, and yet he has not appeared. What we need is neutral territory.”
“I suppose that is wise,” Belinda agreed although still uncertain how she could prove useful.
“And you must tell me what to say,” Anne continued.
“Speak from your heart. Tell him what you desire.”
Anne shook her head. “No, I have never in my life given in only to my feelings.”
“Even with your marriage?”
A guilty smile spread across Anne’s face. “Well, that came close. However, I would rather die than tell him that. No, I just wish for a real marriage. I know I may not please him. I might never capture his interest or keep it should I gain it. However,” Anne blew out a breath, “I have considered for the last several weeks that I would rather know the soul-crushing feeling of heartache and betrayal than to become an old woman full of regrets on missed opportunities.
Anne blushed after her impassioned speech and sagged into her chair. She sheepishly watched Belinda for a reply from lowered eyelashes.
“My goodness! I did not know you had such gumption in you!”
“I owe it all to you, my dearest friend. Knowing you and seeing your strength has allowed me to know my own.”
“Oh, no. I cannot accept such praise. All I have done is allow you to see yourself.”
Anne tucked her head and twisted her hands. “In your letter, you called me sister. Do you not think being an only child is terribly lonely?”
“Yes, I do,” Belinda nodded. “I have often wished for a sibling.”
“Aye. I never went away to school. I confess I wondered what the difference between a friend and a sister might be.”
“Well, I suppose it is like looking at Richard and James. They may disagree, at times, but they rely on one another.”
“Yes, I believe you are correct,” Anne agreed and reached for Belinda's hand. “It is a bond deeper than friendship. I am friends with Elizabeth and Miss Bingley. However, you are my sister.”
“And you are mine,” Belinda said, putting another hand over Anne’s.
The ordeal of her courtship with Richard and waiting for their marriage had only one silver lining: her friendship with Anne. Belinda knew when she was an old woman with eyes too tired to read and legs too tired to walk, she would treasure this time spent making a forever friend in her soon to be sister-in-law. As an only child, it gave Belinda fulfilment beyond her expectations. Richard was her friend and her lover, but she had never expected to find the companionship of a lady so enjoyable. Growing up, she had never fit in with the other girls. Her interests and way of thinking were too different. Seth had no living relatives. What a joy she would have missed out on if she had married him.
That night as she prayed before bed, she added a request that one day she might have a pair of daughters of her own. She fell asleep with a smile on her face for the first time in months considering him a proud papa.
Chapter Eight
When Richard received Bingley’s wedding invitation, he seized upon the same idea Belinda had. Arranging use of James’ carriage to carry his bride to Scotland in, he had only one thing left to do. He awaited his valet in his chambers to discuss the matter.
“Truman,” Richard said when the tall, well-built man entered. “Do you still seek passage to Upper Canada?”
Jacob Truman briefly paused over his actions of putting away cravats before answering. “I will not resign until you do so, sir.”
“And you are certain you do not wish to take over your father’s store?”
“I have considered it and reconsidered it. I have not been in the shop in years. I have no head for ledgers. Father has told me I am free to pursue my dreams.”
“Who will run the shop?”
“He is grooming my late brother-in-law’s brother. He is young yet. His sisters help him in the store while Father continues to recover.”
“I have a proposition for you.” Richard motioned for Truman to sit. “I have determined to resign and need a profession. Belinda will have no fortune. I would like to train in your father’s store. Eventually, I think I could help him with expansion.”
Truman nodded. “You could oversee your own store without starting the enterprise from scratch.”
“Yes, and you can trust your father and his interests to be well looked after by someone other than a youth.”
“I think this may be the answer we have been searching for. What of your lady? She is an earl’s daughter.”
“Belinda is unusual and does not hold to class prejudices. She already loves English fabrics and has been training to learn as a seamstress and household duties.”
“Amazing,” Truman smiled.
Richard trusted he gave his friend some hope. If Belinda could learn these things and willingly forsake her life as a peer’s daughter, perhaps Truman might have a future with Caroline Bingley.
“You know as an officer, I can sell my commission at any time while I know you are beholden until March.”
Truman nodded.
“If you would like it, the General has offered you a position as special liaison. Instead of you becoming batman to whoever replaces me, you can ferry messages to mill owners. As the destruction of factories and machinery grows, the General desires contacts with mills in other counties.”
“I presume these counties have available seats in the upcoming election?”
Richard raised his eyebrows in answer. Vyse had grown inspired by Morgan. There was no call for Vyse to worry about other counties when the Regiment had orders in West Riding. However, having connections with wealthy men of the area would assist him in the election. He already asked after Darcy and James. Certainly, he would soon be in the pocket of some rich lord.
“There is more,” Richard said and then cleared his throat allowing him time to think of the best method of relaying the information. “Bingley requests your presence at his wedding to Mrs. Darcy’s sister.”
A vein near Truman’s eye twitched but he gave no other sign of alarm. “I hardly know the man, any longer, and I do not think it fitting I attend.”
Richard slowly nodded, and Truman began to move about the room finishing his tasks. After sitting in silence for several minutes, Richard leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Although his head hung low, he knew Truman could hear his words. “Is it not worth seeing her a final time?”
Richard had never held to Darcy’s rigidity about interference and privacy. He would not order Truman to patch things over with Caroline. It was strange enough to consider she had ever been anything but a fortune hunter and social climber or that she meant to now live d
ifferently. However, he was not above making Truman consider that moving to a colony would irrevocably separate them in a way war on foreign land had not.
Truman muttered something to himself and then stood straight, pulling down on his waistcoat in what appeared to be an attempt to firm his resolve. “I will go.”
“Excellent,” Richard said. “I will write to Bingley, if you would write to your father, I would appreciate it.”
“Certainly. If that is all, I will see to it now.”
“Yes, yes,” Richard said, and the valet left.
As Richard withdrew writing instruments, he considered that Truman striking out on his own in Canada fit the young man. They had served together several years now, and Richard thought of him as a brother. He was precisely the age his younger brother would have been had he survived childhood. He paused for a moment, recalling the young child who had not yet been breeched and ran after him and James. It was his death that, for a time, sent Lady Fitzwilliam into a depression during which she gambled too heavily and came into the clutches of the late Jack Rutland, Duke of Somerset. The blackguard had preyed on the weak and vulnerable.
A thought lit in his mind, and Richard withdrew another piece of paper. They had not paused to ask why Lord Crenshaw was in such deep debt. How did a man who otherwise seem so upstanding and his father’s closest friend end up in such massive arrears? How did Wickham know of it? The answer now seemed obvious. If Wickham knew of Lady Fitzwilliam’s debts to Somerset, then he ought to know of others’. A letter to James would likely confirm that among Crenshaw’s creditors were debts of honour to Somerset. Wickham must have blackmailed him. If Richard’s assumptions were correct, something traumatic sent the earl to gambling. Before he finished penning his missive, a footman intruded to announce a guest requested to see him.
Extraordinary Devotion: A Pride and Prejudice Novella Variation (When Love Blooms Book 3) Page 6