The Scandalous Saga of the White Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Hanna Hamilton

  Percy rubbed his face with both hands, obviously agitated. “Father, why can I not marry Maria—the woman I do care for? She can bring three thousand to the marriage, and the Earl has a successful growing business with his cattle. Might there not be more money coming later?”

  “I told you we need twenty thousand. How can you be so stupid?” Arnold went over and struck Percy across the side of his head with his walking stick. “Do not defy me. Do as you are told, you ingrate—or you shall be out of here on your ear and will be banished from this family forever.”

  Percy was crouching on the floor, his hand to the side of his head, his ear swelling from the blow.

  “I want a report this evening on your successful meeting with Anna Hoskins or tomorrow off you go to London. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Father,” Percy replied, feeling damaged.

  It was a battle every day for Harry. The cattle occupied most of his time, but he also needed to confer with Maria about the running of the estate. He had local responsibilities as the Earl of Creassey, and his mind was occupied even more these days with his concern for Anna, knowing the grief she was going through—not to mention conjecturing that she would probably be marrying one day soon, now that she was wealthy and no longer under her father’s supervision.

  Sometimes it was just too much stress and those were the times when he would take his rod and hide away to fish. The quiet murmur of the river soothed him. The patience required to land a fish steadied him, and the thrill of striking a catch always thrilled him.

  He only told Maria he was taking time off, as he did not want to be found. He knew she respected his need to get away and would await his return if anything came up that required his attention.

  Of course, as Percy and he fished so often together, he was not surprised to see Percy riding up just as he cast into a sweet spot where he might expect a good solid strike.

  “Percy, old friend… you coming to fish?”

  Percy said something indistinguishable as he pulled up his horse and teetered before dismounting.

  Harry did a double take. “Are you all right, old friend?” he asked as he cast again. But as Percy walked toward him, Harry could see that something was wrong. His friend was holding his hand to the side of his head and he staggered as he walked.

  Harry put his rod down and went over and took hold of Percy’s shoulders. He reeked of alcohol and the side of his face was covered with a red welt.

  “What happened?” Harry asked, suddenly upset. “Have you been drinking?”

  “Far too much. Father… the son of a bitch…”

  “He hit you?”

  “With his walking stick.”

  “Why?” Harry led Percy to a nearby log where he made him sit and Harry kneeled down in front of him as he rubbed Percy’s shoulder.

  “Why did he hit you, Percy?”

  Weaving from side to side, Percy tried to speak but could not quite form the words and he burst into tears.

  “Oh, Harry, it is so awful… I… I… I feel so helpless and I know not what to do.”

  Harry stood up, sat down next to Percy and put his arm around his friend’s shoulder.

  “Tell me what it is. Maybe there is something I can do to help.”

  Percy shook his head. “There is nothing to be done. It is hopeless.”

  “Why?”

  “Father… has run the estate… into trouble. He says we are broke and he insists I marry money as soon as I… can. To save us.” Percy looked at Harry with pleading eyes.

  “Who? Marry who?”

  Percy started crying again. “I want… Maria… but… well, her dowry is not enough.”

  “Maybe I can help some. How much does your father need?”

  “Twenty-thousand… minimum. But even that is not enough if I am to have a life of my own with a new wife.”

  “Sorry, old man that is way outside of what I can offer.”

  “I was not really asking you.”

  “Then what does he want you to do?”

  “Marry Anna.”

  This struck Harry to his heart. Not only because he yearned for Anna for himself, but because it was such a mercenary move on Percy’s part. Especially, when he knew that Percy and Maria cared for each other. Anna’s marriage to Percy would be a terrible blow to his sister as well as to him.

  “I am supposed to visit Anna this afternoon but look at me. Look at my face. I cannot go there looking like this—tell her how much I care for her and present myself as a suitor. She would be horrified.”

  “There must be some other way to solve your father’s problem. Why is he not the one who must be responsible? Why is he putting this all on you?”

  “I believe he has tried, but to no avail. And he sees me as useless and feels that, as the future duke, I must take more responsibility for the estate. He feels it cannot be all on him.”

  Harry nodded. “He does have a point, my friend. As dear a friend as you are, you really are a bit useless. You have no direction. No goals. And no profession. How do you expect to become the Duke of Crauford with a worthless estate and no income?”

  “By marrying Anna.”

  “You know you will devastate Maria and hurt me.”

  “How will I hurt you?” Percy asked.

  “You know I have feelings for Anna. I have for a long time.”

  “But Harry, it is me Anna has feelings for. The fact that I care for Maria is nothing in the world we live in. I must take advantage of Anna’s feelings for me if I am to save my family.”

  Harry was gravely disappointed. “Percy, this is a tragedy. Not only for you—but for Anna, for Maria, and for myself. I cannot allow you to go through with this.”

  Percy seemed to be sobering up. “And how are you to stop me?”

  “By calling upon our friendship.”

  Hanging his head, Percy said, “Oh, Harry… if only it were that simple.” He stood. “I am sorry, old friend, but my family must come first. And I do believe you would do the same.”

  “I would certainly hope not. But I am not in your boots, so I do not know how I should react.”

  Percy turned and started toward his horse.

  “You are going to see Anna, looking like that?”

  Turning back, Percy said, “I will tell her I fell off my horse and seek her sympathy. Does that not always work on a lady’s delicate feelings?”

  “You are a scoundrel, Percy Garvey.” But he was concerned and worried about his friend.

  Percy was dressed in his regular day wear. He had not spruced up to call on Anna, because he wanted it to seem as if he was calling to console her not to woo her. The alcohol had mostly worn off and Percy seemed to be no longer intoxicated.

  Warrick said he would have to see if Miss Anna was accepting visitors today, and led him to a small parlor with a view of a corner of the formal garden.

  “Mr. Percy, you wanted to see my sister?” It was Dorothy, most surprising dressed in black. Not surprising because she was wearing it, considering her loss, but surprising because it so unsuited her usual bright and airy demeanor.

  “Might I speak with her?”

  “She is currently with Maria. The three of us are in the process of preparing for the after-service reception. She asked if I might help you instead.”

  Oh, Maria was here. This unsettled Percy for he did not want her to know that he was calling on Anna. But she would know eventually, in any case.

  “I just wanted to pay my respects and see how the two of you were holding up in your time of grief.”

  Dorothy looked at him strangely—as though he had come to the wrong house.

  “As one might expect,” she said a bit impatiently. “You have been invited to the memorial service, I am certain we shall see you then. However, right now we are engaged and not really receiving visitors at this time. I hope you will excuse us. We do not mean to be rude.”

  “I quite understand. Then please give my regards to your sister and tell her I will see he
r at the service. And forgive my intrusion. But it was only out of the greatest concern for the two of you.”

  He was holding his hat in his hands and he bowed slightly as he turned to leave.

  “Mr. Percy,” Dorothy said, stopping him. “I am sorry if I seemed abrupt. I know my sister will be grateful of your call. Good day.”

  “Good day,” he said, and left—devastated that he would have to face his father and report that he had failed to even see Miss Anna this time. Or would he? His father need not know they had not met. Best to string the old man along with what he wanted to hear, until the time when Percy would propose and be accepted. He did not want to suffer another blow to the head.

  Chapter 22

  It was late Friday afternoon with just a few hours to go before Harry would take the carriage to visit Miss Fitzwalker for supper. However, as lovely as she was, he was also apprehensive, for her letter hinted that she might be open to more than just a thank you for caring for her after her, supposedly sprained ankle.

  His valet was offering him a choice of cravats, but Harry was not paying attention. His mind was still on his conversation with Percy and the revelation that Percy was now actively pursuing his beloved Anna. Why was Anna always on his mind? He knew she had feelings for Percy. Why could he not rejoice that she might find happiness with him?

  Firstly, because he knew that Percy really preferred his sister and secondly, because, as hard as he tried, he could not squelch his deep and abiding feelings for her.

  “The blue one, Your Lordship?” the valet asked, trying to elicit a decision.

  “Oh, yes, that will do fine,” Harry replied.

  “But the green one might be better suited,” he said, reexamining the several cravats in his hand.

  “Oh, Littleton, I do not care. Either damn one,” he said testily.

  “Then the green one, Milord.”

  “As you wish. Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”

  “No apology necessary.”

  After he was done dressing, Harry left his rooms and went to his study. He would not be having supper with his family so did not join them for the customary sherry before they would be called to the dining room.

  As he was surveying his desk, his eye was caught by Anna’s drawings. He picked several up and studied them. It was excellent work. She was a fine draftsman and it gave him the idea of going over to visit her with the excuse of discussing the well house. He knew it was not the appropriate time to do that, but he would feign excitement over her work and plead the excuse of not wanting to wait until after the memorial service. He was certain she would forgive him as the project meant so much to her.

  However, what was really troubling him was his altercation with Percy over Anna. As much as he knew that Anna cared for Percy, he could not help but be troubled by Percy’s character—his deception of caring for Anna when he really loved Maria, troubled Harry greatly. He was tempted to ride over immediately and tell her all about Percy’s true intentions, but there was no time. He needed to leave for his dinner engagement in less than an hour.

  Harry arrived at the Fitzwalker estate just a few minutes late. The gardener had put together a bouquet for him to take to Miss Nora.

  “Ah, Lord Creassey, welcome. So happy you agreed to attend my little supper,” Miss Nora said as Harry was shown into her sitting room.

  “Most gracious of you to invite me,” he said and handed her the bouquet.

  “Oh, how lovely and thoughtful. Thank you.” She handed the flowers to the butler. “Come,” she said. She picked up a glass and handed it to him. “I thought a little champagne before dinner would be refreshing. And the view of the sunset from the terrace is most pleasing.”

  Harry followed her through the French doors onto the terrace and up against the balustrade where she sat her champagne glass and studied the view. He stood next to her, took a sip from his glass, and said, “I see you are no longer limping. I hope you have healed completely from your fall.”

  She turned to him and smiled. “I have. Thanks to your expert help and kind care.”

  He wagged his head. “It was but little effort on my part.”

  They turned together and watched in silence as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky and the few clouds with deep reds, oranges, and purple and revealing the first bright points of starlight.

  Miss Nora shivered and Harry suggested, “Shall we go back inside. It is remarkable how quickly the evening starts to cool once the sun has set.”

  “Yes, a most excellent idea,” she said and led the way back to her chambers.

  The butler was at hand to pour them another glass of champagne, and then stepped away.

  It was obvious to Harry that this sitting room was a part of a group of rooms that made up Miss Nora’s personal chambers. He was puzzled why they were having drinks here instead of in one of the common, public rooms.

  “Your Lordship…” she started, but then added, “Oh, that is so very formal. Might I call you Harry now? It seems so much friendlier, think you not?” She then reclined into a comfortable chair and gestured for him to sit as well. “And after all we have been through together, with my little plunge in the stream, it seems we can allow ourselves to be less formal now.”

  “You may. I find that in the country many of us are less obsessed with the use of titles than in London.”

  “And that is why I am so enamored of county living. I so enjoy my summers with my grandparents. It brings back memories of lazy, carefree days as a child—despite the inevitable bullying of my obnoxious brothers.” She giggled and held her glass out for the butler to top her off again.

  They continued forward with innocuous talk of London life which Harry knew little about. She described the opera scene, expounded on the fashionable restaurants, and raved about her dearest friends who entertained weekly.

  Presently she turned to the butler and said, “You may serve the dinner now.” Then she addressed Harry, “I have become quite famished. I believe there is a little nip in the air this evening—it seems to whet the appetite. Think you not?”

  “Well, as for me, it is hard work with the cattle that makes me hungry. But then I seem to be hungry all the time. So, I am certainly ready to eat if you are, Miss Nora.”

  “Ah, Harry, call me Nora, please?”

  “Nora. I stand corrected.”

  The butler wheeled in a table set for dinner and then returned with another cart with the dinner that was to be served.

  “I hope you do not mind. I did not feel like a fancy, fussy sit-down dinner in the cavernous dining hall. This is so much more cozy and comfortable. Come. Let us sit.”

  She stood and offered her hand to Harry. He arose and took it and she led him to the dinner table where they sat.

  First, the butler topped off the champagne glasses again, and then he proceeded to serve a dinner of cold chicken in aspic with a mayonnaise sauce.

  “That will be all, thank you,” Nora said, and the butler departed. “So much nicer to enjoy supper without all the fuss. I hope you like the chicken. It is one of my favorite dishes from home. I had the cook make it for me especially.”

  Harry had to admit the dish was delicious, but he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. A supper served in a lady’s chambers when there were no other guests nor family present in the house seemed to be inappropriate. But at the same time, he did not want to offend this charming lady.

  However, she sensed his discomfort and asked, “I hope you are enjoying yourself. I know you must be used to large festive dinners with friends and family around you every day.”

  “Not at all,” he said, “I… well, my sister, mother, and I live quite simply. My aunt and her traveling companion are visiting at the moment, so we do have slightly more festive meals presently, but it is not usual.”

  “But there certainly must be some tempting, young lady in your life. A handsome, titled gentleman such as yourself must be nearly on the edge of matrimony.”

  Harry s
miled. “Not so. I have been totally engrossed in developing and expanding my estate and have not given much thought to entertaining young ladies—however tempting.”

  Nora gave a mock pout. “No one?”

  Harry saw this as an opportunity and said, “Well, there is one young lady. She is a local lady whom I have known since childhood. Our families were close, but unfortunately, she just recently lost her father, so we are unable to contemplate an engagement until the time of mourning has passed.”