She didn’t speak, just waited for him, savoring his touch. He kissed her gently on the mouth, holding back mightily the flood of his passion. Her lips trembled beneath his kiss and when he opened his eyes, he saw she was crying.
“Please don’t leave me,” she said.
“I don’t have anything to offer you.”
“Don’t you know? I only want you.”
*************************
While Michael and Susanne went back to Elysian Fields, Davis visited Vaughn at his office. Cavanaugh had been very informative of the Brooks’ financial picture, especially after a few brandies. Davis was not surprised to hear how large the Earl’s debts had been. What was surprising was that they had been paid months before when his stocks were liquidated. The mortgage wasn’t large, certainly not enough to bankrupt the estate. The rents from his tenants should have covered the Earl’s expenses, especially with his minimal staff. But some rents had not been collected for over a year. A few questions were all it took to find out that Blaine the butler was a cousin of the solicitor, Vaughn. And since most of the tenants were also relatives of the two, it was easy for Davis to deduce why the estate was in jeopardy.
Davis knew how easy it would be to dupe the sick Earl and Michael’s memories of Elysian Fields would make him reluctant to show any but cursory attention to its running.
Vaughn’s assistant announced Davis, “The Honorable Baron Lord Davis Edderle”. Vaughn jumped up immediately, rushing to shake his hand and seat him in the most comfortable chair, ready to accommodate the “Honorable Davis”.
“How can I help you today?” he asked.
“I am here about the Brooks’ estate.”
“Yes, we should be ready for auction before too long. Will you be bidding?”
Davis was succinct. “There won’t be an auction, Mr. Vaughn. I purchased the mortgage on the estate and paid the taxes.”
Silently Vaughn took in the information. After a minute, he said, “I’m sure Lord Brooks will be happy to hear that. I understand that he was concerned about receiving enough money to pay the expenses. Of course,” he continued, “there are Earl Brooks’ other debts.”
“Yes. And what might they be?”
Vaughn shuffled through some papers. “There are doctor expenses, payments for help, some gambling debts, household expenses, the usual,” he said, giving Davis a knowing look. “And of course, my expenses.”
“And what might all these ‘expenses’ amount to?”
“I’m sure when we liquidate the contents it will cover these expenditures.”
“Hm. Well that may be a problem as I’ve purchased the contents of the estate along with the existing leases.”
“Oh, well, that does present a serious problem for Lord Brooks.”
“One would think so. But I believe that if we dig a little deeper we might be able to find these expenses have already been paid from Earl Brooks’ estate.” Davis was calm and his demeanor agitated Vaughn.
“I am sure that I don’t understand what you mean, Lord Edderle.”
“You don’t?”
Vaughn sat back in his chair for a moment, then leaned forward and neatened the papers on his desk. “Please tell me how exactly I can help you, Lord Edderle.”
“I believe that you and your family have profited well off of Earl Brooks. I believe that it will be in everyone’s best interest if the lot of you vacated any claims to the estate and access to any of the Earl’s property. In return, I am willing to make good on Earl Brooks’ medical care and any debts he may owe to individual shopkeepers.”
Vaughn narrowed his eyes and replied haughtily, “Lord Edderle, while I respect your position, I believe that you are assuming facts that you have no proof of.”
Davis calmly folded his hands in his lap. “Would you like to test that theory, Mr. Vaughn?”
Vaughn stared at Davis, waiting for a break that didn’t come. “What is it you want?”
“All of your family, every single cousin, cousin-in-law, distant second cousin twice removed and anyone even remotely related to you off my estate. Your bill and Mr. Blaine Stewart’s bill are to be considered paid in full and the two of you are released from the services of the Brooks family. And Lord Brooks is not to be bothered with any of this or the Sheriff may need to become involved. The Lord has enough to concern himself with right now, don’t you think?”
Vaughn tried one last act of bravado. “It’s a bit of extortion, isn’t it?”
“That is almost as ugly a word as embezzlement.”
Davis won the staring contest. “I will make sure the necessary papers are drawn up,” Vaughn said.
Davis handed him a card. “Make sure they are forwarded to me in London. I will be staying in Wickingham for a few days. I will explain to Lord Brooks why you won’t be in touch. Good day, Mr. Vaughn.”
*************************
Susanne saw the Earl only once. Michael took her to his bedside as soon as they returned to the estate. The old Earl looked at her with glassy, distant eyes. “My Fiona,” he said and fell asleep.
Later that day, he died.
Blaine had disappeared so Susanne sent Amelia to town for a carpenter and the priest. By the time she had returned, Davis had arrived and he and Michael set to the work of cleaning the body. Davis wanted to send Amelia back to town for someone to do the job, but he sensed that Michael needed to be involved. The priest gave the Earl his Last Rites, then helped Davis and Michael. When they were done, they wrapped the body in a linen shroud and brought the carpenter in.
Once the coffin was made, they moved the Earl to the stable and Susanne, Mrs. Bailey and Amelia began cleaning and airing out the smoking room. They removed the curtains, pillows, rug, and bedclothes and piled them outdoors to be burned.
It was dark when the women finished and the men had burned the furnishings. Mrs. Bailey offered dinner, but the priest’s wife would have his dinner prepared and no one else was hungry. The fire was rebuilt in Michael’s room and Susanne and Michael slipped upstairs while Davis paid the priest and carpenter.
When Davis came upstairs before leaving for the inn, he followed the light to the opened door of Michael’s room. The fire illuminated Susanne on the sofa and Michael reclining with his head in her lap. She looked up at Davis, put a finger to her lips and pointed down at Michael. When he was closer, she said, “I don’t think he has had much sleep.”
“I think you are right.” Michael’s face was peaceful, a sharp change from earlier in the day. Susanne was slowly, gently stroking his hair, pulling his dark curls through her fingers. “I believe Amelia’s gone to bed. I’ll check the fires downstairs before I leave.”
“Thank you, Davis. For everything.” Davis knew that she must be as exhausted as him, but her face in its angelic calm as she held Michael denied it. That was what she reminded Davis of: an angel, her golden hair a halo in the firelight.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, nothing.”
“Would you like me to help Michael to bed?”
“No; I don’t want to wake him.”
Davis stoked the fire then kissed Susanne on the forehead. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
“Thank you,” she said again.
At the doorway, he turned again to Susanne and Michael. He wondered if he and Rebecca looked so peaceful together.
*************************
It was dawn when Michael finally woke up. The fire had long since died out and Susanne was asleep with one hand on him and the other on the arm of the sofa, cradling her head. He slowly slipped from under her protection. She stirred as he positioned her prone on the sofa, but she didn’t wake up.
That early, after all the activity of the day before, the house was the quietest he had ever known. It was the first opportunity he had to really see how much the estate had fallen into disrepair in the past decade. Many rooms were incompletely furnished, the furniture sold to pay his father’s bills. It was a tour of the decline of
the Brooks family and it depressed him.
In what had been his father’s bedroom, Michael found a locked desk. He searched underneath, found the key and unlocked it. Inside the cubbies and drawers were letters. He sat down and began sorting through them. He was looking for a letter from his mother. His whole life he wondered if she had ever written and the sight of dozens of letters in the desk suddenly gave him some hope. Piece after piece, he read through looking for any addressed to him or signed by her.
There were none.
Michael stood up and flung a handful of letters across the room. He buried his face in his hands, let go of the tension of the past weeks, and cried. Before much time had passed, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around. Susanne held him as he sank to his knees with his arms wrapped around her waist as she stroked his head tenderly.
*************************
Davis had given the priest extra money to pay for mourners for the Earl’s funeral. He was initially surprised to see how many mourners his money bought until he realized that some were genuine. They were older neighbors, mostly women. He later found out that they came for Michael; they remembered him with tenderness as the motherless little boy who played with their own children, never seeing the barriers of class.
It was an ordinary funeral from the Book of Common Prayer. There were no eulogies and no other relatives, besides Michael. Had he even known of others, save his half-brother, he would not have known where to find them. Even in death, the old Earl’s life was devoid of personal connections.
The Earl was buried and mourners invited back to the house where the priest’s wife had organized a funeral lunch. It was at that point that Susanne, who had stayed by Michael’s side for the entire ceremony, excused herself to remain with the women. Davis and Michael retired to the sparse library. While Davis started a fire, Michael poured them each a drink from his flask and made a mental note to replenish the liquor supplies. He pulled two chairs close to the fire and they settled in while the room warmed up. Each was content to be silent, but there was much that needed to be said.
Davis began. “What I said about Susanne, before Rebecca and I were married, I was mistaken. I’m sorry.” Michael remained quiet, staring into the fire. “I didn’t realize how deeply you cared for each other. I honestly didn’t believe it was genuine. I was wrong.”
Michael considered this. Finally he said, “Given what you knew about each of us…I doubt I would have believed what I felt was genuine.”
“Nevertheless,” but Davis’ words drifted off. Even between the closest of friends, some things should not be shared. Over these three days, Davis had seen both Rebecca and Susanne in a different light. He loved Rebecca, but what is love without trust, friendship and intimacy? Susanne sensed Michael’s needs; Rebecca didn’t seem to understand how important Michael’s friendship was to Davis. Had he not been wealthy, Davis knew Rebecca would not have given him a second thought; to be honest, had she been penniless, he would never have considered her for marriage. They were more suited by society’s standards than Susanne and Michael and there was certainly affection and love; but their marriage was more correct than passionate. To say this, though, even to Michael, would mean having to acknowledge it to himself.
“There is something else I need to tell you,” Davis continued. “I purchased the mortgage on Elysian Fields.”
Michael hardly flinched. He stared straight into the fire then started to laugh. Davis figured that he’d finally cracked, but Michael was laughing genuinely, not cynically. “Your father would have disowned you for such a boneheaded move. Didn’t you know the estate is worth less than the mortgage?”
“It is now. But I think with the right management, it will be lucrative.”
“This place is a jinx, Davis. Get rid of it.”
“Your solicitor was stealing from your father.”
Michael chuckled again. “I’m not surprised. He always trusted the wrong people. Am I still penniless?”
“I don’t know yet. I realize that I have stepped deep into your business, but—“
“Yes, you have; at least I know you have only my interests in mind.”
“I do. You and Susanne can remain here as long as you like.” He paused. “Please remember, though, that Susanne is my sister; Rebecca will have some issue with this if she believes that you are only toying with her,” he said.
“I know,” Michael quietly interrupted. “Rebecca doesn’t need to worry. And I will need some time to go through his papers.” His voice drifted off.
They remained in the library apart from the mourners, the rest of the afternoon.
Davis left for London the next morning.
Chapter Ten
The early morning departure of Susanne Newland and Davis Edderle did not go unnoticed. Had anyone bothered to speak with Martha or Lord Cavanaugh, who remained in contact with Davis via messenger, they would have known the reason. But why bother with facts when speculating is so much more fun?
For the men, it was easy enough to believe that Davis was carrying on with Susanne. Infidelity was a part of their lives. What was surprising was how blatant he seemed to be so soon after his wedding. There seemed no sense in openly humiliating such a lovely bride.
Women were certain of the veracity of what they whispered because they “knew” how women like Susanne behaved and men are pretty much all the same. And, of course, it was delicious to see pretty, articulate, perfect Rebecca Edderle humiliated publicly the way they had been privately.
Johanna first heard the talk at yet another excruciatingly boring ball. When she returned from Harwich, she plunged right back into the social scene as though she’d never left. It was tedious, but necessary. On her periphery was Michael who seemed distracted, but he left for Elysian Fields right after Davis and Rebecca returned from France. Martha’s house was large enough and her schedule full enough that she and Susanne passed each other without much more than superficialities. Had she been forced to be honest, she would have accepted that keeping Susanne on the fringes was Johanna’s way of dealing with her envy. It was Susanne, after all, that would be sought out as a wife, not spinster Johanna.
At dinner, before the ball, she was seated beside an American colonist. He was a bland man, ordinary and balding. But he was a pleasant conversationalist and didn’t mind that she did little more than encourage him to talk about himself. By the time dinner was over, she knew that William Somers was a widower with two children; that he was born and lived in the Virginia colony; he was a farmer in England to purchase supplies; and that she liked the genuineness of his smile.
He was half a head shorter than her and underdressed for the after dinner ball. Not a surprise; he was, after all, an American. Johanna was surprised, though, and pleased at what an accomplished a dancer he was.
“Mr. Somers,” she said, “Are all American men as graceful as you?”
“You must remember, Lady Johanna, that I am also a Virginian. We are a chivalrous lot us Virginians.” His smile became sad for a moment as he said, “My wife, my late wife, loved to dance. It has been many years since I’ve enjoyed a ball.”
He was reminiscing in his mind, she knew, not playing for her sympathy. “I’m sure that I am not half as graceful as she would be in your arms. What was her name?”
“Margaret. Our daughter, Polly, is named for her.”
When the music ended, William walked Johanna to a chair. She sat down and signaled that he might join her, but he bowed. “I have an early morning meeting. I must say good night.”
Johanna was disappointed. While she was not attracted to William Somers, she did enjoy talking to him. “I hope you take care of yourself while you are in London, Mr. Somers,” she said politely offering her hand.
He shook her hand and said, “I will be in the city for another month. I hope that we will see each other again.”
“I’m sure we will.”
She decided to leave an hour later. While she waited for her wrap in the hall, sh
e heard footsteps and Davis’ name in a hurried, excited voice. “Of all people, who would have thought he’d leave her for her own sister!” Johanna hadn’t been seen yet; she stepped quietly into a shadow to eavesdrop on the two gossips.
“She must be devastated, poor thing. They’ve been married for such a short time.”
“But then we all know that Susanne is fast with the boys. That’s why she’s living here with her cousin; she’d run through every man in that little town she’s from.”
“Lord Edderle always seemed such a gentleman. Who would guess he’s even worse than the others, leaving his wife in such an awkward bind.”
“I’m sure he’ll be back, but your right it is awkward for Lady Rebecca just the same.” The voices drifted off without realizing they had been overheard.
Johanna was stunned. She couldn’t be sure of Susanne, but this was not at all Davis. No matter how his head may be turned by a pretty face, he would never embarrass his wife or scandalize his family name in such a way. She determined to speak with Martha and see what she knew.
The next morning, Martha was livid when Johanna told her what she’d heard. “Of course, it’s not true,” she assured. “I’ve been hearing this rubbish since Davis left. It’s absolute nonsense!” Martha insisted.
“So they did not leave together?” Johanna asked. Martha hesitated. “They did then. Do you know why?”
Martha chewed on a nail then answered, “It’s Michael Brooks.”
Johanna shook her head slightly. “I don’t understand. What about Michael Brooks?”
“He’s having some, um, family troubles. His father…”
“I know about his father,” Johanna interrupted. “Has he died?”
“No, at least he hadn’t when Davis and Susanne left. And there are…financial troubles.”
It made sense that Davis would rush to help his best friend. “But why Susanne?” she asked. “It’s not as though she knows Michael.” Martha silence was the confirmation. “I see,” she said, averting her eyes which were suddenly moist.
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