A Suitable Husband

by Fenella Miller

  Chapter Fifteen

  Immediately following the coachman’s modest funeral party, Oliver took himself off to London. He had decided, quite rightly, that if he was not there to quarrel with, she was less likely to change her mind again and cancel the wedding.

  Lady Hepworth thought his disappearance decidedly odd. ‘Where did you say the captain had gone, Sarah?’

  ‘To discover more about Richard Fitzwilliam and the earl.’

  ‘I would have thought he could have sent one of his men to do that. His place is here, with you.’

  ‘I am a little relieved he has gone, for I am now able to walk around my own home without fear of confrontation or argument.’ Sarah was forced to smile at her exaggeration. ‘The only problem has been Edward’s schooling; I have been obliged to send him to join the curate’s small group at the vicarage. Edward appears quite happy with the arrangement as he likes mixing with the other boys.’

  The mantua-maker sighed. ‘I’m sorry to ask, but please, madam, could you standstill for a moment, or your hemline will be uneven?’

  ‘I do apologize, Mrs Andrews. I promise to keep still until you have completed your work.’

  Lady Hepworth stepped back to admire Sarah’s wedding gown. It was the final fitting; once the hem was pinned Mrs Andrews could finish the dress at her workshop in the nearby town of Market Camden.

  ‘Yellow and gold was an inspired choice, my dear. The two colours complement your colouring,’ Lady Hepworth said admiringly. The lemon yellow-silk underskirt fell straight from the high waist in shimmering folds. The gold sarcenet bodice, and over dress with demi-train, had no extra ruching or frills. The simple lines and lovely material were enough.

  ‘The girls will look delightful in their dresses, Harriet. Yellow spotted dimity was also a perfect choice.’ Sarah’s lips curved in a small smile at the recollection of the pretty dresses her three flower girls were to wear.

  ‘There, madam, I have finished. Are you sure you would not like some beading, or tiny rosebuds around the neckline?’

  Sarah shook her head vigorously. “No, thank you, Mrs Andrews, definitely not. The gold lace edging on both the sleeves and sash are enough decoration.’

  Two maids stepped forward and carefully lifted the dress over Sarah’s head leaving her standing in her chemise. Harriet had abandoned any hope Sarah could be persuaded to wear a corset and conform to the dictates of fashion. ‘When you are dressed again, my love, shall we take a turn in the rose-garden before you leave? It is pleasant now the sun has hidden itself behind the clouds.’

  Sarah’s reply was muffled as she allowed herself to be re-clothed in the smart, military style, riding habit she always wore. Respectable at last, her boots back on, and the jaunty tri-corn perched on her head, she was ready to follow Harriet into the rose garden.

  Her friend was waiting, parasol in one hand, on the steps. ‘I wish to show you the roses I intend to use in the house on your wedding day, Sarah. They will be at their peak by then, if we do not have another thunderstorm.’

  Sarah glanced up at the sky. ‘The clouds are too high for rain, I think, at least for today.’

  ***

  Twenty minutes later Sarah cantered back down the drive, Jack a few yards behind. Late afternoons in July were not ideal for riding, they were too hot and humid, but she was enjoying the freedom of being able to go out when and where she pleased after the restrictions of the past few weeks. Most of Oliver’s extra men had been paid off and Rowley Court was peaceful and quiet, the way she preferred it to be.

  To Sarah’s dismay she arrived home to find a travelling carriage, drawn by two fine matched bays, standing, apparently empty, on her drive. Her stomach plummeted as she dismounted. It could only mean one thing — the earl had sent for his heir and Oliver was not there to protect them.

  Jack led her mount away and she hurried up the marble steps, habit clutched nervously in one hand, whip in the other. The front door swung open and Thomas waited to greet her. ‘Two men have arrived, madam, they are from London and insist they will speak with you. I have put them in the small with-drawing room to wait.’

  ‘Where is Edward, Mrs Thomas?’ In her panic she thought her son might be spirited away that very minute.

  ‘He’s having his tea in the kitchen, with Sally, madam. Do you wish me to fetch him?’

  ‘No; I will speak to him later.’ She hesitated, unsure whether to change before going to meet the visitors. She decided her need to know was more important than her appearance and walked briskly towards the small drawing-room.

  A maid opened the door and she sailed in. From her calm demeanour it would have been impossible to discern her disquiet. Two black garbed gentlemen were talking quietly, their backs to the door. Sarah found it difficult to swallow. A faint movement from her must have alerted them for they swung round to face her.

  The smaller of the two beamed. ‘My dear, Mrs Haverstock, pray forgive our intrusion but we felt that as you could not come to us we would come to you.’

  The wave of relief that flooded Sarah almost overwhelmed her. These were her lawyers, the Messrs Digby and Digby. ‘I am so glad to see you!’ She paused to steady herself. ‘It is so kind of you to make the journey all the way out here.’

  ‘It is no trouble at all, my dear, Mrs Haverstock. It is our pleasure, we do assure you. We like to escape from the confines of the office, do we not, William?’

  The taller, but otherwise identical gentlemen, nodded. ‘We have all the papers ready for you to sign, drawn up as you asked. How very wise of you to protect your settlement.’

  Sarah was presented with documents to sign and she did so without query. Robert and William collected all the papers, placed them in a box, and prepared to leave. They had refused all offers of refreshment insisting that they had already bespoken a handsome dinner at the inn they were staying in overnight, at Market Camden.

  Less than an hour after their arrival they were back in their carriage and bowling off down the drive. Sarah finally joined Beth in her bedchamber to remove her habit, its gold frogging and brass buttons no longer as pristine and shiny, after her long ride.

  ‘Will you be dressing for dinner tonight, madam?’

  ‘No, I will dine in my sitting room as usual.’

  Sarah felt the aura of disapproval and knew the reason for it. She attempted to mollify her abigail with a glowing account of her wedding finery and the flower girls’ gowns.

  ‘It sounds very pretty, madam, I’m sure. I wonder what the captain will be wearing?’

  ‘I have not the slightest notion, Beth. I imagine his regimentals; although he has been absent long enough to have Weston make him an entire wardrobe.’

  ‘Are you expecting him home soon, madam?’

  Sarah smiled. ‘I sincerely hope so; it is only three days to our nuptials.’

  The door burst open and Edward raced into the room, his face wreathed in smiles. ‘Papa’s back, Mama. Jack saw him at the Dower House. Can we go and see him?’

  ‘I think not, my love. It is too late to be gallivanting all over the park. Time enough tomorrow to bid him welcome.’

  ‘Why is he not here, with us, Mama? This is his home now, not the Dower House.’

  That was a question Sarah would also have liked an answer to. ‘It is customary for the bridegroom to reside elsewhere until the wedding, Edward. But I promise he will be here to see you first thing in the morning.’ She hoped her answer would satisfy him.

  ‘He has been away for so long; I have missed him dreadfully, and so has Rags.’

  ‘And I have missed him too, Edward.’ Sarah found, to her astonishment, she actually meant what she said. Without Oliver to spar with, life had been decidedly dull.

  ***

  If Oliver was surprised by the enthusiasm with which both his betrothed, and future son, gre
eted him he was too polite to show it. Edward flung himself into his arms.

  ‘Papa, I have missed you so. Why did you stay away so long?’

  Oliver picked him up. ‘I must apologize, lad, I had much to do in Town. But I am home now.

  Is Rags fully recovered?’

  ‘Yes, he’s as good as new.’

  Oliver raised his eyes to meet Sarah’s critical gaze. ‘I have much to tell you, Sarah. My visit has not been unproductive.’

  ‘Edward will be going to his lessons soon. You can give me your news when he has gone.’

  ‘Papa, will you walk with me to the vicarage?’

  ‘Indeed, I will, Edward. Are you ready to leave?’

  Sarah watched them go, Edward dancing along beside Oliver, chattering non-stop. Rags circled both, barking madly to attract their attention. They were so like father and son, they even shared the same floppy dark hair. Would it really be so bad to marry this man, after all they were almost a family already?

  She had arranged to return to Hepworth House that afternoon to greet her relatives on their arrival. Her sister was attending alone, her husband felt himself above such things as a country wedding. Sarah wondered if his attitude would change when he realized his nephew was heir to vast estates and an earldom.

  Oliver returned and sought her out in the study. Their greeting was awkward, neither quite knowing how their relationship stood. Sarah gestured for him to be seated. ‘It has been very quiet here without you.’

  His mouth quirked. ‘No one to argue with, my dear. There’s nothing quite like a vigorous difference of opinion to liven one up, I always think.’

  She spluttered, trying to swallow her giggles and suddenly all her reservations vanished. Oliver was once more the man she had chosen as a husband and father to her future children. ‘I have missed you, Oliver. Especially yesterday; my lawyers came from London and I thought, at first, that they were from the earl, here to take Edward away.’

  ‘Lawyers, Sarah? I thought you had decided not to see them?’ His response was cool and he ignored her reference to the earl.

  ‘The Digby brothers arrived here unannounced, Oliver. And I was so relieved they were not from the earl I had not the energy to send them away.’

  ‘What papers did you sign?’

  Sarah’s expression changed instantly from concern to horror. ‘I have no idea, I did not read them!’

  Oliver was shocked speechless by her admission. He stared at her his expression incredulous. ‘Good God, Sarah, how could you be so stupid? You could have agreed to anything. Where are the copies? You must read them immediately.’

  ‘I have none. They took all the documents back to London.’ She collapsed forward, placing her head in their hands. What had she been thinking of? He was right to name her stupid! Hot tears trickled through her fingers to drop unheeded into her lap ‘The sooner I take charge of your life, my love, the better,’ Oliver murmured as he gathered her into the comfort of his arms. She relaxed and allowed his strength and heat to restore her. Gradually a different sort of warmth began to throb around her veins and she felt his arms tighten and his heart beat quicken in response.

  ‘Oh God, Sarah, you’re so impossibly beautiful! Look at me, my love.’ Sarah tipped back her head but she instantly recoiled from the passion she saw burning back at her. She was not ready for such a reaction. It frightened her. Nervously she tried to increase the distance between them, finding his proximity disturbing.

  Reluctantly Oliver let her move. He held her captive at arm’s length and grinned ruefully. ‘I think I will rephrase that, my love; you are just plain impossible!’

  Relieved he could joke about her rejection Sarah returned his smile. ‘I am sorry, Oliver, but I find I would prefer to wait until we are married.’

  His rich chuckle filled the room. ‘Good God, what sort of man were you married to, Sarah? I was intending to kiss you, nothing more.’

  She scrambled from the sofa and covered her annoyance by a flurry of dress moving and hair adjusting. When she felt sufficiently under control she answered. ‘I was married to a kind and sensitive man who never once allowed his baser instincts to overcome him. He would not have dreamt of accosting me in such away, downstairs, where we could be observed.’

  ‘In that case, my dear, in future I will endeavour to keep ‘my baser instincts’ under control.

  She fixed him with a disapproving stare. ‘I do not appreciate being found a figure of fun, Oliver.’

  ‘Which is a great pity, sweetheart, as I find your behaviour a constant source of amusement.’ Grinning widely he sauntered over and folded himself onto a convenient chair. ‘Now, do you wish to hear my news, or not?’

  ‘You are infuriating. If your information was not so important to me I would be tempted to box your ears.’

  He leant forward an answering gleam in his eyes. ‘Would you indeed? That would be an interesting experiment! But, alas, one we shall have to postpone.’ His expression sobered and Sarah’s heart turned over in dread.

  ‘Is it bad news, Oliver?’

  ‘Not really; Fitzwilliam is definitely your correct name. It appears Simon Fitzwilliam fell out with his father and went to live in India. He became a nabob and married an Indian princess.’

  ‘I already knew all that, apart from the name, of course.’

  ‘Do you wish to hear the rest, or are you intending to interrupt continuously?’

  Sarah smiled and waved for him to continue. ‘It’s through him that Edward will inherit vast estates in Kent and the title. The present earl is two and eighty and believes a distant relative, the Richard Fitzwilliam who has been attempting to murder you and Edward, is his legitimate heir. Richard’s claim is through an uncle of the earl’s.’

  ‘It is odd Edward’s existence should go unremarked until two months ago.’

  ‘I believe it could have been your advert for a tutor in The Times that led Richard to you. Until then they possibly thought Simon’s line had died out.’

  Sarah frowned. ‘But I advertised as Haverstock, not Fitzwilliam.’

  ‘I imagine Richard had already discovered the change of name. He has been living on his expectations for years and one can only suppose he would wish to be certain there were no barriers to his inheriting.

  ‘Did you discover his whereabouts?’

  ‘Are you suggesting I broke my word, Sarah?’ Oliver’s demeanour changed and his expression was not friendly.

  Hastily she reassured him. ‘No, of course not. I am merely asking if your inquiries revealed where he is living.’

  Mollified, he relaxed. ‘Fitzwilliam, and his family, strangely enough, are living abroad. His house in Surrey is shut up and his estates are being managed in his absence.’

  ‘I am glad. If he is absent Edward and I are safe and the earl is less likely to learn about us.’

  ‘I hope you’re correct.’ He stood, and offered her his hand, which she ignored. Her actions were noted. ‘At what time will you be going to Hepworth, Sarah?’

  ‘We are expected at three o’clock. I am glad you will now be able to meet my father before the ceremony.’

  ***

  The happy couple and their son decided to ride over to Hepworth House. The need for either intimate contact or conversation was then eliminated. Lady Humphrey had arrived in good time and had been anxiously peering out of the window waiting for her younger sister’s arrival. ‘Sarah, you are in fine looks.’ She reached down to pat Edward absently on the head for her full attention was fixed on the attractive man who had just dismounted, athletically, from his saddle.

  Oliver strolled over and bowed, but did not attempt to take her hand. ‘I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Humphrey. Sarah and I thank you for taking the trouble to travel all this way.’

  ‘Oh, Captain Mayhew, it was n
o trouble, nothing at all. Do you think I would miss my only sister’s marriage?’

  Sarah hid her smile behind her hand. Her sister was an inveterate flirt and was already trying her skills on Oliver. He was, she noted, apparently unmoved. ‘Has father arrived yet, Elspeth? Oliver wishes to speak with him.’

  Elspeth shook her head, and her dark ringlets bobbed becomingly. ‘Not yet, but he is expected at any moment.’

  Edward had been ignored long enough. ‘Will Grandfather come and stay with us after the ceremony tomorrow, Mama?’

  ‘I am not sure, my love. It is possible he will have to return straightaway; he cannot leave his parish unattended.’

  All heads turned at the sound of wheels trundling down the drive. Sarah had sent her carriage to collect her father and it was this vehicle they expected to see.

  Edward was the first to speak. ‘That’s not our carriage; look it has something painted on the door.’

  Sarah was looking and her face paled. Her eyes flew to Oliver and he stepped over and he placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. ‘Oliver, it is the earl come to take Edward away.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Elspeth, unaware of the significance of the crested carriage, trilled, ‘Oh my, Lady Hepworth, you have a very illustrious visitor! Is it another member of the wedding party, Sarah?’ Receiving no immediate response she glanced round and becoming aware of the frozen tableau behind her remained silent. For all her frivolity she loved her sister and sensing something catastrophic was unfolding stepped closer, offering her support.

  The smart equipage drew to a crisp halt. Two postilions jumped down; one let down the steps the other flung open the door with a flourish. Sarah, who was expecting an elderly aristocrat to descend, realized instantly the three sombre faced, dark garbed, men were lawyers. The constriction around her chest began to loosen — even three lawyers were preferable to one Earl of Westover.