by A. O'Connor
“Nothing, we had a disagreement over wheat-pricing, that’s all,” Charles lied.
“I see,” said Arabella.
Charles turned and they began to walk across the forecourt together.
“Showing me up like that in front of Harrison and Victoria! James would want to realise who’s in charge around here now and watch what he says.”
“I don’t think anything James could say would influence opinions they have already formed about us,” said Arabella, as they reached the front steps of the house.
Charles paused and he held out his arm to her. “Lady Armstrong?”
She smiled at him and took his arm, and they walked in and closed the door behind them.
True for Margaret, Lawrence’s funeral was a huge occasion. Not only did dignitaries come from far and near but hundreds of locals thronged the green outside the church.
Gwyneth, who had announced she was pregnant again, left soon after to return to her other three children and duties waiting in England. Daphne returned to Dublin and her children. Emily seemed in no rush to return to London. She had purposely not sent a telegram to Hugh to inform him of Lawrence’s death as she really didn’t want him coming. She pretended to everyone that he was travelling abroad. But the reality was she couldn’t cope with him arriving and showing her up in front of everyone with his brutish manners, the way he had when they went to Newport for Harrison’s wedding.
She loved being back at Armstrong House in her old room. She realised she never appreciated what she had when she was there. Now she dreaded returning to her marriage. She had listened to Gwyneth and Daphne and Arabella discuss their children with joy, feeling like an outsider with none of her own. But the fact was she really didn’t want any. The idea of having a child with Hugh had become repellent to her. Even for him to touch her repulsed her now.
She was out riding with Charles on the estate a couple of weeks after Lawrence’s funeral.
He observed her sitting elegantly side-saddle and laughed.
“What’s funny?” she asked.
“I’m laughing at you! You hated riding side-saddle and only did it when you had to. Why are you riding side-saddle now with nobody around to observe?”
“I always ride side-saddle nowadays. There’s something very uncouth doing it the other way, I think.”
She seemed to have changed a lot, Charles thought.
“How’s Hugh?” asked Charles. He had purposely avoided talking about Hugh as he was still so angry with him.
“Hugh is Hugh!” said Emily. “I don’t think he’ll ever change, regardless of how much money he makes or how many dancing lessons he takes. Charles . . . can I ask you something?”
“Of course!”
“There seems to be so much about Hugh that I don’t know, even now after being married to him. Do you know anything about him, being his friend?”
“I don’t know if Hugh and I were ever friends, so no, I don’t know anything,” said Charles, thinking back to that night when Hugh had taken him on that journey into the darkness of the East End of London.
“Don’t tell anyone this . . . I know I can trust you . . . sometimes he disappears for days and I never know where he’s gone to.”
“I see,” said Charles, thinking of the opium den that Hugh had shown him.
“And then when he comes back he looks like he’s a different person. Other times he locks himself in his bedroom, and won’t come out for days, only allowing food to be delivered to his room.”
“His room?”
“Yes, we often have separate bedrooms. I prefer it like that, I think he does too, to be honest. I think I’m a terrible disappointment to him.”
“Surely not? He was desperate to marry you.”
“He was desperate to acquire a mill in Yorkshire last month as well. Once he got that, he never bothered talking about it or visiting it again either!”
“When are you going back to London?”
“Soon, I suppose. I have to get back or otherwise he’ll arrive over here looking for me.”
Charles looked at his sister who seemed so miserable and remembered his part in her marriage.
“Come on,” he said, turning his horse. “We’d better get back to the house.”
Victoria loved Armstrong House and Ireland. She had heard Harrison talking so much about it, but actually being there and seeing it was an entirely different matter.
There had been so much going on and so many people visiting Armstrong House in the aftermath of Lawrence passing away that they hadn’t been alone much with Arabella and Charles, which was the thing they were dreading. But Victoria had observed the two of them from afar. She judged Arabella to be very beautiful with a refined manner. She had wondered over and over again since meeting Harrison what this woman would be like, this woman who had broken Harrison. She had thought Arabella would be some kind of ogre. But Arabella didn’t come across like that. Victoria thought Arabella wasn’t an open and carefree woman like Gwyneth and Daphne. But she imagined Arabella hadn’t done anything on purpose all those years back, and had never intended to cause Harrison such hurt. The trouble was, watching Harrison near Arabella made her aware that he still didn’t see it that way. He still viewed her with suspicion and contempt. The relationship between Harrison and Charles was beyond strained, Victoria thought, and was truly broken. It saddened her.
With the others gone, only Victoria, Harrison and Emily joined Charles, Arabella and Margaret for dinner that evening.
“Where’s James tonight?” asked Harrison.
“Oh, James rarely joins us for dinner in the big house. He’s off doing whatever James does,” said Charles.
“James works very hard on the estate,” said Margaret. “Night and day.”
“He’ll be a big help to you running this place,” said Victoria. “It’ll be quite a responsibility minding all these tenants.”
“Not at all, Victoria,” said Charles sitting back arrogantly. “I’m very much looking forward to taking over. I’ve a lot of ideas how the estate should be run in the future. We need to move with the times.”
“Father ran this place excellently,” said Harrison coolly.
“Of course he did! I’m not saying that. I’m just saying we’re on the cusp of a new century. It’s going to be the twentieth century in a few weeks and we need to enter the twentieth century like the rest of the world.” Charles looked at Victoria. “You know what I mean, Victoria, being an American. Americans aren’t frightened of the future.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Charles. My country isn’t perfect either. It’s all about profit. I think the way of life is so perfect here. I hope you don’t do anything to tamper with life on the estate too much,” she said, smiling hopefully.
He smiled back at her and nodded.
“You might think it’s all very quaint here, Victoria,” said Arabella, smiling, “but you don’t have to put up with the plumbing that takes hours to heat up. I’m sure you don’t have that in Newport.”
“True! But I think I could put up with a little faulty plumbing to have this beautiful countryside on my doorstep,” smiled Victoria.
“How are your parents, Arabella?” asked Harrison.
Arabella got a start, it was the first time he had addressed or looked at her since they had arrived and she found herself going red. “Very well, thank you. Papa has retired now so he has more time on his hands to do whatever he wants.”
“Tell them I was enquiring after them – they were very kind to me,” said Harrison.
Arabella nodded and quickly continued with her soup.
Victoria leaned over and kissed Harrison and held his hand.
Charles stood at the drawing-room window, watching Harrison and Victoria frolic around their Mercedes Benz. He observed them intently: they seemed so blissfully happy together.
Arabella walked in and came up to him just in time to see the motor car drive off from the forecourt.
“Where are they going?” asked Arab
ella.
“Who knows? Off on one of their day sojourns again. Quite remarkable, a woman driving a motor car like that!”
“She seems quite a remarkable woman full stop,” said Arabella.
“You wanted to see me?” asked James, coming into the library where Charles was sitting at the desk.
“Yes, take a seat,” ordered Charles and James sat across the desk from him.
Charles sat back and observed his brother. “I’m willing to forgive your despicable outburst in front of the family, but I’m warning you nothing like that must ever happen again.”
James looked at him defiantly. “You know what I was saying was the truth.”
“I know no such thing! I know that you have been allowed to run around this estate as if you own it. And I’m now making myself very clear that you don’t. You might be my brother, but you’re also my employee and I will not be disrespected by you like you have done in the past. Do I make myself clear?”
James stared at Charles with hatred.
“Well?” Charles pushed.
James nodded.
“Good, and now we can get on with the running of this estate. There’s going to be changes, and big changes. Father let the tenants run serious arrears. I’m not going to allow that in the future.”
“You can’t get blood from a stone, Charles! If they don’t have money to pay rents, then they don’t have it!”
“They have money all right. They have money for drinking in the bars in Castlewest every night and those dances they are always having. You should know, James, you go to enough of them with your lady friend from the town.”
James looked at him with contempt and surprise.
“Oh, I don’t care what you get up to in your private life. Although I have to say you’re letting the side down with that riff-raff. I don’t know what Mother would ever say if she knew.”
“That is none of your business!”
“No, but my business is running this estate as I want it run. And you will co-operate with me . . . I think we understand each other.” Charles finished talking and began to look through paperwork.
James sat glaring at him in anger.
Charles looked up at him. “Don’t you have any work to do?”
James stood up and stormed from the library. Victoria was coming down the stairs and nearly bumped into him.
“James, is everything all right?” she asked, seeing he was close to tears.
James didn’t answer her but stormed out the front door.
chapter 52
Emily reluctantly got out of the hansom cab in London and looked up at the house in Hanover Terrace. She climbed the steps to the front door and knocked loudly. A minute later the butler answered.
“Oh Lady Emily, we weren’t expecting you,” he said, surprised.
“No, I didn’t wire ahead. Has everything been all right here?” she asked.
“Yes, eh, fine, Lady Emily.”
“My trunk is in the cab if you can have the footmen get it?”
“Certainly.”
“Is Mr Fitzroy home?” she asked.
“Eh, yes, I’ll just go and tell him you are here,” said the butler, rushing for the stairs.
“No need,” she said, taking off her coat and gloves and putting them on a side table. “Just get my trunk.”
The butler reluctantly went to find the footmen.
As she slowly walked up the stairs she got the strong smell of something she didn’t recognise and something she didn’t like. She crossed over the corridor to the drawing room and opened the door.
The room was dimly lit as she walked in. There, stretched across the couch, was a half-naked Hugh smoking an opium pipe. On either side of Hugh on the couch were two half-naked women, one white and one black.
Emily got such a shock she could only stand and stare.
“I think you have a visitor,” said one of the women, nodding over at Emily.
Hugh opened his bleary eyes and looked over at his wife.
“Ah, you’re back, are you?” he drawled.
Emily turned and ran from the room. She could hear the three of them laughing loudly as she ran all the way upstairs. Reaching her bedroom she locked the door, leaning against it, panting in distress. She could still hear their cackling laughter downstairs.
Arabella sat at her bedroom window looking out at the terraced gardens as Harrison and Victoria walked down the steps to them hand in hand. They seemed so much in love, she thought. Harrison was such an attentive, loving husband. But then she wasn’t surprised – he had been such an attentive loving fiancée to her. Watching them together was a stark reminder of how her own marriage was so different. She was so used to the arguments and deceit in her own marriage, she forgot how it could be otherwise. As she watched them walk off to the lakes she couldn’t help but feel jealous. What would her life be like if she had never been seduced by Charles? Would she be in this kind of a loving marriage with Harrison now? She reached forward and poured another glass of gin for herself from the bottle on her dressing table.
There was a knock on the door.
“Lady Armstrong, may I speak to you?” came a shrill Scottish voice from behind the door.
Arabella was still finding it strange to be addressed as Lady Armstrong.
She quickly hid the gin bottle and said, “Come in!”
Miss Kilty, the latest governess, walked in.
“Lady Armstrong, I’m sorry to disturb you,” Miss Kilty began.
“Well, why disturb me then?” asked Arabella, not in the mood for another lecture from a governess.
“Well, I have to – it’s about your children.”
“And here was me thinking it was about the weather,” Arabella said sarcastically.
“Prudence or Pierce did not show up for their lesson today – they’ve been missing all day,” informed Miss Kilty.
“Missing?” said Arabella, shocked.
“Well, when I say missing, I know where they are. They’ve run off to accompany Lord Charles on estate business.”
“Oh, I see,” said Arabella, relaxing.
“I don’t think that you do, Lady Armstrong! The child Prudence is running wild!”
Arabella looked out the window and saw Harrison and Victoria kissing. She turned around and said, “I do see very clearly, Miss Kilty. I see a woman who is supposed to be in charge of my children and not keeping close guard on them.”
“But –”
“My children are highly sensitive, intelligent children –”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Miss Kilty, looking around the room dismissively.
“And they need a governess with those qualities, which you obviously don’t have. You can leave at the end of the week.”
Miss Kilty nodded. “As you wish, my lady.”
“I do wish!”
Miss Kilty turned and left.
Arabella grabbed the bottle of gin, refilled her glass and drank it while looking out at Harrison and Victoria getting into a rowing boat and rowing out on the lake.
chapter 53
Charles knocked on the door of his parents’ bedroom.
“Come in!” said Margaret. Charles walked in and found Margaret writing at her bureau.
“So many letters to answer, so many kind words from friends of your father,” said Margaret, putting her fountain pen down.
“Yes, I can imagine,” said Charles, looking around the bedroom.
“Can I help you with anything, Charles?”
“I wanted to speak to you about your plans for the future.”
“Well, I’ve no immediate plans. All my plans revolved around Lawrence and my children. And now that Lawrence is gone and all my children married off, nearly, what is left for me to do?”
“I was thinking that you probably would like your own space,” said Charles.
“I don’t think I quite understand?”
“Well, this room is traditionally always taken by Lord and Lady Armstrong,” he poin
ted out.
“Oh, I see, you want my bedroom, do you?” She looked cynically at him.
“Well, I thought, and it’s just a thought, that you would like your independence.”
“In what way?”
“Hunter’s Farm is such a pretty house, don’t you think?”
“Yes, it’s a lovely old Georgian house,” she agreed, thinking of the small manor house a couple of miles away.
“Did you ever think about moving into it?”
“Well, I hadn’t actually, no. But you obviously have!”
“I think it might be for the best in the future. It would give you independence and, to be honest, your presence here at Armstrong House will always undermine Arabella’s position here.”
“Arabella’s position? It doesn’t exist! She doesn’t do anything!”
“Exactly. The staff and guests will always see you as Lady Armstrong and not her. So I think it’s a good idea if you move to Hunter’s Farm.”
Margaret’s face was stern. “I’m not saying it’s not customary for the Dowager to be moved on once her husband has deceased, but I didn’t expect to be given my marching orders quite so soon!”
“Well, it’s not me, Mother. It’s Arabella. Let’s face it, the two of you don’t get on – and two women who don’t agree under the same roof . . .”
“So she’s behind this, is she?”
“I think it’s for the best, don’t you?” He smiled sympathetically at her.
Arabella was in the small parlour when Margaret came marching in.
“I’ll be gone by the end of the week, you’ll be glad to know!” announced Margaret.
“Gone where?” Arabella shook her head in confusion.
“I’m going to live in Hunter’s Farm as you requested,” said Margaret.
“I didn’t request any such thing – it’s the first I’ve heard of it,” said Arabella.
“Oh come on, Arabella, don’t lie to me and insult my intelligence. You know, you’re such an ambitious woman, nothing gets in your way. I think it was always your plan to be Lady Armstrong. I think you used Harrison all those years back to get in with the family and then snare Charles. And you’ve been waiting your moment all these years so you can take over here, and now your opportunity has come.”