Parthena's Promise

  “Nor I, for sure, but I have made enquiries about Mr Charles Tripp and discovered that wherever he buys – property or land – he leaves a factory where houses once stood and they result in the destruction of the small town or village they are linked to. He has done this twice over that I know of. He buys, provides the money, plans, and men to do his work, and moves on to live in his own country idyll and begins searching for his next target; all legal and all sickening if you are living in the path of his ‘progress’. I do not care for him or his London lawyers that he boasts about so much. I apologise if I sound embittered, but there you have it. I do not want to live in London and have not the money to make a name for myself there even if I did have that ambition. So how can I help you?”

  “Is Parthena able, in any way, to block Bertram Munro from getting his hands on the estate, legally?”

  “Has she not showed you a copy of her father’s will?” Geoffrey asked, and Jerome knew how badly this impressionable, innocent young woman was being duped.

  “She has not seen the will and has in fact been told that her father died intestate,” Jerome answered, trying to conceal his anger.

  “That is a lie! I left a copy for her with Bertram. I have been unable to speak to her. He insists, as her father used to, that business is for the men in the world and that she should be protected from it.”

  “But not from the consequences of the men who would do this, apparently.”

  “That is true. The only way she can have any ownership of the land in any sense is if she is married by the end of the month, which is impossible. Then she, or rather her husband, can make a direct claim to the total inheritance. But if she had been told the truth when the will was disclosed to Bertram they would have had six months for her to possibly find a suitor. The one thing that was personally gifted to her along with an allowance of three hundred pounds per annum, so long as the estate exists, is his grandfather clock from the hallway, and this,” he said as he leaned into his drawer and pulled out an envelope. “This is part of the arrangements that are not mentioned in the will itself which Mr Bertram Munro does not know about. You see, it is a letter and key, which was entrusted to me to give to Miss Munro in the event of her twenty-first birthday, if she was not wed and he, Mr Munro senior, had predeceased the date.”

  “Do you know what it is for, and when will she be twenty-one?” Jerome asked.

  “No, but she will do, I am sure. She was twenty-one last Wednesday, two days after she disappeared.”

  “Then you must give it to her, without Bertram’s presence or knowledge.” Jerome sat forward.

  “I agree, but you forget she is no longer here and that presents me with a problem and a dilemma. When, if ever, do I tell her cousin about it?” He raised both hands up in despair.

  “Mr Bertram Munro lied, she did not run away, neither is she given to fits and tantrums and certainly would not do something as reckless as he suggested. Let me explain what happened, and then we will find a way for you to see her so that you can deliver that envelope to her in person. Perhaps if you could call on her tomorrow at ten? I will make sure she is there and that Mr Bertram Munro is not.” Jerome was enraged, but he should not have been because he had met many an unscrupulous or greedy man, who thought little of the consequences of his actions on the dependant female in their charge.

  “How and why would you do this?” Geoffrey Stanton stared at him, intrigued, but he was no man’s fool, so Jerome decided honesty was the best policy.

  “Because I believe in justice. I can get the greedy cousin away, but more than this, because I believe I have quite fallen under Miss Munro’s spell and I would see how desperate or daring she actually will be to save her estate, and the village, not to mention her future, from the likes of Mr Bertram Munro and Mr Charles Tripp.

  “Then you have my blessing and I will do what I can to aid you. But Tripp is a very powerful man and he could destroy me too, Jerome. I have a family to think about.”

  “You need not fear. I will not see you harmed in any way. If all goes through to my plan, we all face a happier future. If Miss Munro turns down my offer, then I will offer you a position in my own firm. You would lose a village, but gain a career. Not perhaps what you wish, but it would secure a future for that growing family of yours.” Jerome stood.

  “Very well.” Geoffrey shook his hand. “You are quite a guardian angel to waifs and strays,” he smiled.

  “No, Geoffrey, to a few wronged individuals.” Jerome shut off the memories of men’s death screams from his recent past – battlefield blood and gore – and cleared his throat. “Believe me, I am no one’s guardian angel!” He left, trying to bury the demons deep and focus upon his faerie of the night and his current mission to save a village from destruction.

  *

  Mr Bertram Munro burst into Leaham Hall to be greeted by Mrs Hubbart as she was about to take a warm drink of milk and honey up the stairs to Thena.

  “What is the meaning of this, Hubbart? Where are you going with that? You are not to be seen on the main stairs!” he barked his words out before she had the chance to say anything.

  “I was taking it, this drink…” she held the tray up as if it was obvious, “…upstairs, sir, for the young mistress,” she added, “… who returned to us today.”

  “Who returned? What nonsense do you speak, woman?” He threw his coat down on the table and tossed his hat also, but both he and Mrs Hubbart watched as the hat skidded across the tabletop and fell on the floor at the other side of it.

  “Hubbart!” he barked. “Pick that up!” The woman’s hand began to shake as she held on to the tray, conscious that the warmed milk was beginning to spill, but she seemed more distressed by it being spoilt, and was focused upon stilling it. Her lips parted as if she was going to be bold enough to speak out, but if that was the futile act that she was intent on she was to be interrupted and saved from the impact of her vexed retort.

  “Cousin, I am so glad that you have returned. I have so much to tell you,” Thena’s voice drifted down from the upper landing.

  “Parthena, is that really you?” He stood gazing up as if his world had turned.

  “Yes, cousin, who else would it be?” she said as she came down the stairs.

  “You… you are here?” He took a step backwards as if he had seen an apparition take form in front of him, as she walked calmly down the last few steps so that she stood before him.

  “Well, where else would I go when I find myself unable to make the introduction you had arranged for me?” she laughed.

  “But you left intent on making a new life…” He was glancing awkwardly around at Hubbart.

  “Of course, with your letter in my bag, but you see, the people had moved on, there was no Major Harrington, wife or sons at the address I was given. I discovered they had moved to Harrogate six months previously. So, I am afraid it was a wasted trip.” She now stood on the bottom step staring straight at him.

  He fought to regain his composure. “But that is abominable! You must tell me what awful plight, my dear cousin, has befallen you. We must act quickly to repair your reputation and find somewhere peaceful where you can recover. Why should you take off so, and how you’re returned to us so… how can it be, so safely?”

  Thena thought that he was confused. He was digging around trying somehow to give off a sense of her fall to the servant. She was not going to let him.

  “I mean, under the circumstances, the thought of what you have been through does not bear consideration.” Bertram was rubbing his forehead with his kerchief.

  Thena was aware that Hubbart was listening and that he was skewing the conversation to somehow discredit her reputation.

  “Why, nothing has befallen me, Bertram!” she said, her voice deliberately patronising. “Whatever are you thinking? My schooling was partially completed at a convent school in the town,” she said, and remembered what Jerome had taught her, that to weave a convincing lie you merely embellished the truth on which it
hung. “I merely asked the mother superior at the abbey for help and she gladly arranged my safe return. I was never in any peril, Bertram. Why, that would have been devastating and I know you only had my best intentions at heart. No, I could not have been better looked after if it had all been planned that way. So you must tell me how things fare here. I understand there are to be changes made.” She glanced around at Hubbart who was looking from one cousin to the other, taking all in.

  “We shall not chatter in the hall like servants, Parthena. Come into the morning room and we shall discuss this matter further. This venture of yours may have had some grave implications,” Bertram said, keeping to his chosen theme, then he turned to Mrs Hubbart. “Not a word of this to anyone, Hubbart, you hear!”

  “No, sir,” she said, as she made her way down the corridor and back to the servants’ domain.

  Parthena walked ahead of him. She heard Bertram bark another order out for them not to be disturbed. He did not understand how a servant could be loyal, because he did not comprehend the meaning of the word, so how could they? Parthena did not like the word “hate” with all its ramifications, but the emotion that she felt towards the insufferable man who had gained position through her father’s death could best be described as hatred. She felt no shame for feeling it as he had lowered her situation to one where she turned in a moment of weakness to theft.

  Calmly Thena sat in the window seat and looked over to the marble framed fireplace. A memory of it adorned with leaves for the Christmas season made her swallow back her nostalgia for a world and a time she could never recapture. Even if this home, by some miracle, became hers again, it would have to move forward. She would not live in a mausoleum dedicated to the past.

  Bertram took his position before the fire even though it was not lit. He held his hands behind his back as if it was still giving out warmth. His girth, she noticed, seemed to be growing as the weeks passed by.

  “You have been on a pointless, yet perilous journey of folly. Are you certain you escaped it… unharmed?” he asked, and watched her reaction closely.

  She smiled back at him, innocence personified. “I do not know what you mean, Cousin Bertram. Why would the nuns hurt me in any way? In fact, it was a joy to see the place again. I loved the Abbey School and it had not changed much at all.” She straightened her skirts as she spoke. She hated lying, but as she had decided she hated the man even more, she did it with great ease on this occasion. “It gave me time to think about things here, and how we may have got off on the wrong footing. But as you are no doubt aware, I was grieving deeply for my poor father. I really do not know what possessed me to think of taking such a position. Of course, I should stay here and help you. After all, some of the tenants have been with the farms for generations and I should introduce you to them.” She saw him pale.

  “You took it, Parthena, because there are few options for you to consider, and staying here is not one of them. I assure you that…”

  Loud knocking at the door interrupted his words.

  “Damnation! Who the hell can that be? If it’s a tradesman I’ll have his skin for coming to the front door. Your father was too soft with these people. They show no respect!” He stormed out of the room muttering under his breath.

  Foul words under bad breath, she mused.

  Before Hubbart could answer it, he was at the door. He had dispensed with the services of her father’s butler, Mr Kendal, as soon as he had been summoned to the estate. He was a man who trusted no one and who was almost paranoid about people getting close to him or his business affairs.

  Bertram flung the door open wide and was ready to blast the unsuspecting figure who he found at the other side of it with his outrage, when standing innocently on his doorstep was a well-dressed gentleman. However, he was surprised at the tall figure. His athletic frame accentuated by his high hat and fashionably cut coat struck of money and position. This was not a vision he obviously had expected to see.

  “Yes? Good day, sir?” Bertram tried to regain his composure.

  Jerome looked at the portly figure in front of him. “Is the master of the house in, I would like to call upon him?” he asked. Bertram was at the point of bursting; could he be undermined any further, he wondered, by women or circumstance?

  Jerome almost smiled as the man’s chest filled with air at the indignation that he had been taken for the butler. “I am he! Not a butler, but the owner of this grand estate!” he snapped out his words, and in that moment Jerome knew the man was completely wrong-footed. This was a meeting he was going to enjoy.

  Chapter 10

  “My greatest apologies, sir,” Jerome said, lifting his hat allowing his dark hair to rest freely upon the collar of his coat. He removed his hand from his pocket and offered Bertram his card.

  Bertram took it as he regained his composure and stared at the man’s address in The Inns of Court, London. “My dear sir, to what do I owe this pleasure? Please, come in.” Bertram stepped back and shouted, “Hubbart!”

  The woman appeared from the servants’ corridor. “Yes, Mr Munro…” She stopped and looked at Jerome. “Oh, another visitor! I mean, let me take your coat, sir,” she said and busied herself around Jerome.

  “Arrange for a tray to be sent to my study,” Bertram ordered. “Now, do tell me to what I owe this visit, sir?”

  “I bumped into an old friend of mine, Mr Charles Tripp. I believe you and he are well acquainted and he suggested that I called. Is this a good time?” Jerome let his voice drift off as Bertram walked ahead towards a door that he presumed was the study. However, he stopped and stepped back as he had seen Thena appear in the doorway opposite. He looked at her and winked. She was even more beautiful when dressed in her normal finery; those beautiful eyes looked pleased to see him. Her manner was so relaxed in her natural surroundings.

  She quickly walked over to him as she had that first night. It was only a few days ago, yet in such a short period of time she had woven her magic upon him. How much he knew of her, her body, her secrets and her plight and how much more he would love to know. If his mother had introduced him to a daughter of her society friends, the dating ritual would have played itself out and they would be wed after months of polite visitations yet they still might be as strangers on their wedding night. Before the wars he would have been happy with that, but not now. He valued life, passion and hope. He cared not for trinkets and trivia. With Thena he would know the real woman, the true self that normally hid behind a veneer. A woman strong enough in mind and body to do what was needed to survive. She had ventured across the open moor trods on her own! There was a woman who stood at one with nature and he was even surer now that she was the woman he sought. His life’s partner, his soul mate, but first to sort out this mess; if only she would welcome the man to her that he was. His faerie of the night had found him. He had only a second; Bertram was saying something to him as he walked on, lost in his thoughts, presuming Jerome would follow him, but Jerome quickly mouthed to her, “Be here at ten o’clock tomorrow morning; you will have a visitor.”

  Bertram turned and saw Jerome looking back. He realised who must have caught his attention and moved to stand between them and cleared his throat. “Please let me introduce you to my ward, Miss Parthena Munro, my cousin, sir.” He looked at her as if she were a naughty, intrusive child.

  “I am pleased to meet you, miss.” He saw her eyes glint with humour.

  “This gentleman has come to talk to me from his offices in London, on business. We will finish our discussion later, Parthena. Now do run along, my dear,” Bertram instructed and Jerome saw a distinct flash of anger cross her eyes, but he raised an eyebrow and she took the hint.

  “Of course, cousin, until later, Bertram and Mr ...?” She looked to Jerome and smiled – at least with her lips.

  “Mr Jerome Fender at your service, miss,” he said, and bowed slightly. He saw the faintest hint of a smile play on those lovely sensuous lips and decided that the two of them had played this scene out l
ong enough. He looked at Bertram and gestured toward the man’s study. “Should we?”

  “Of course,” Bertram said, and led him into the room, closing the door tightly. The brief discussion of the weather and the state of the older roads ended once a tray was in place and Mrs Hubbart had, like Thena, disappeared from their presence.

  “So, please tell me why Charles has requested you visit me. Is this in connection with Stanton and our business dealings?” Bertram was oblivious to any subtle gestures, that was obvious.

  Jerome crossed his legs and leaned back casually in the fireside chair. Bertram had rested against his desk. Jerome did not want to sit opposite him and give the man any chance of feeling he was superior, or in control of the situation. For his plan to work, Jerome needed two things to happen: firstly to convince this worm of a man that he was as incorrigible as Bertram, and secondly, that Thena was as willing to solve this problem and save her village as much as he desired to have her as his wife. For it never occurred to him that she would want him after the way they had met. He had seen her brought low and Jerome knew she was a woman who had pride, as well as beauty.

  “I am of the understanding that you and Charles are soon to exchange papers on this Hall, that by the end of the month all must be arranged and the deeds handed over,” Jerome began.

  “Yes, we are, but, sir, if you wish to bid for it I must inform you that the land attached to this estate includes many farms, shops, forestry and also the river rights. There is a tin mine and unmined seams of copper. So, in all, you would need a large sum to outbid Charles for it, if that is your intention. However, I am a fair man and Charles would understand, as he often reminds me, that he is a man of business and not sentiment.” Bertram shrugged his shoulders, as if dismissing any notion that his words were disloyal or underhand, but his eyes were fixed on Jerome as he studied his visitor for his reaction.

  “Indeed, which is precisely why I am not making a bid for the estate,” Jerome replied and wished that he had enough reserves separate to his own family estate to actually buy everything, for here he had seen a peaceful, functioning community that had so much more potential if the people were allowed to look after their land themselves. In order to gain access to Thena and explain his rather outlandish plan, he had to have Bertram on side before he made arrangements that endangered her. For Jerome had heard the man’s words spoken to Charles after Geoffrey had left, and there was no mistaking how callous this man would be to get what he desired. However, if Bertram Munro suspected he had Thena’s interests at heart, or God forbid, the desire to wed her, which would give him the inheritance, he would never agree, and as Jerome knew for certain he had legal rights over her estate as things stood. Therefore, Jerome must persuade this pitiful excuse of a man that he was in the pay of Charles in some way and would remove Thena from their path, temporarily or permanently.