“Welcome back.”
A buzz of chatter erupted while everybody demanded an account of what had happened in France and the travellers tried to satisfy their curiosity. After letting them continue for some time, Philip rose at last and ordered,
“Enough. Look at Edward’s face. He isn’t recovered yet. Let him retire now and you can quiz him again in the morning.”
The party started to break up, but Philip lingered until only Captain Roper remained. Once the door closed, Roper said,
“You have changed your appearance again. You’re a man of many faces, my friend. I had to look hard to recognise the Baron de Vezey in the new Earl of Kirkmore.”
“Let’s hope that others are less observant than you. It’s good to be home and I’m not desirous of going on my travels again anytime soon. I owe you an apology, Charles, for my conduct towards you last year. If you received my letter, you already know my reasons for concealing my true identity. I swear to you I did nothing to harm England, during the time I was here or when I worked for Caulaincourt after I returned to Paris. Do you believe me?”
Roper looked hard at him, then nodded and held out his hand. “I do. You’ll be interested to hear that, in addition to your word, all the evidence supports the explanation you gave me in your letter. I had a duty to make sure and I did so. Although I cannot approve of some of your actions, there’s no reason why we cannot leave our differences behind us in the past.”
“And resume our friendship?”
Roper nodded. “Since I am now married to your cousin, I see no alternative.” And then he laughed.
Epilogue
The air was crisp and a layer of frost iced the fields. The horses’ breath steamed as they pulled the carriage along the winding lanes. A village came in sight, grey-steepled church and rows of cottages, huddling together as if for warmth on this cold December day. Inside the carriage the travellers were snug, wrapped in rugs with hot bricks at their feet. They were excited, because this was the day before Christmas and Philip was bringing his countess to his ancestral home. He wished to spend this first Christmas ‘under our own roof’. Alice and Edward came with them, the latter almost himself again, although he had not recovered the full use of his arm, nor the ability to read properly. These he deemed small matters considering the multiple deaths in the battle that Wellington christened ‘Waterloo’ and the Prussians ‘Belle Alliance.’ He was alive and would never fight again.
At the end of the lane, the carriage turned into the driveway and drew to a halt. Walters, at the lodge, obviously expected them because his son John had been set to watch and whistled shrilly to alert his father. The whole family tumbled out to greet them.
“Welcome back, my lord. Welcome, my lady. How nice to see you again, Lady Alice, Sir Edward.”
Corn stalks had been twisted into a traditional shape, a bell containing small pebbles. The youngest daughter shyly presented these to the two ladies while her parents wished them the compliments of the season. A short drive brought them to the doorway of the hall and again there was an outpouring of both family and servants. It would have been overpowering to Grace, had she not been acquainted with some of the people present. She managed to command her countenance and to accept their good wishes. She remembered later the moment when Philip’s sister, Matilda drew back at the doorway to the salon and gave her precedence.
“For I never believed I would see such a thing in my lifetime,” she said to Philip later.
The dowager had made the short journey from the Dower House to the hall to greet her son and new daughter-in-law. She looked both severe and ill-pleased but she had obviously made up her mind to accept the inevitable for she was, at least, civil. This first awkward evening was not marred by family bickering.
The next morning, the party walked to church in the austere chapel just outside the grounds. Grace was entertained to realise that her husband sang lustily but often strayed from the tune. She tried not to giggle when she noticed the glances of the neighbours who obviously remembered Philip’s lack of ability. Indeed, several of them mentioned afterwards that they had missed him during the years he had been absent. Alice, too, was welcomed by those who had watched her grow up. Everyone wished the new countess well and remarked on the years when her father had been the vicar in this place. ‘Sorely missed’ they called him.
It took some time before the family could break away and return to the hall. A yule log blazed on the hearth and every surface in the reception rooms had been decorated with sprigs of holly and ivy. Mistletoe hung from the chandeliers and Philip took full advantage of this when his mother was not looking, causing Grace to blush. A sumptuous meal followed which included many of Philip’s favourites including roast duck, brawn and mincemeat tarts. Then they opened their presents, an elegant snuffbox for Edward, fine lace for Alice and the dowager. Philip removed the pearls from around Grace’s neck and replaced them with a sparkling diamond necklace which he had made to his own design in London.
“Oh, Philip, how lovely.”
“Not as lovely as the lady who is wearing it.”
Her present to him was a book of sonnets including several of John Donne for whom he had an admiration.
“It does not match your gift to me, but it says all that is in my heart.”
Later, when they went for a short walk together in the grounds of the hall, Grace said,
“My darling I have another gift for you.”
“Oh?”
“Do you remember the corn dollies that Nan Walters gave to Alice and me at the lodge?”
“Yes?”
“Did you know that they were rattles?”
“Were they? I didn’t look at them too closely.”
“An appropriate gift for a new bride, wouldn’t you say? What would you like best in all the world?”
“You, of course and… you’re not?”
She nodded and he immediately engulfed her in his arms. When she could speak again, she said,
“I wasn’t sure before but I am certain now.”
“Then that is the most wonderful gift of all, far better than mere diamonds,” he said as he held her close.
“Or even a book of sonnets.”
“What a difference a year can make in a man’s life,” he mused as they turned back towards the hall. “Last Christmas I was cold and frozen with grief for Celia, may her soul rest in peace. Now I have everything a man could possibly want. I have you, a baby is on the way and my home is restored to me, which I never believed was possible.”
“And I have you,” Grace said. “I, too, never thought that I would ever be so happy.” She stood on the doorstep and looked out at the grounds of her new home. Here I will live, she thought. Here we will raise our children. We will grow old together, please God. I have passed through adventures and I hope that I will never have to do so again.
Regency Belles & Beaux
Miss Ridgeway’s Privateer
Michèle McGrath
Miss Ridgeway’s Privateer
“Oh no! It cannot be true!” Lucy bounced up in her chair oblivious of the shocked glances of Mr. Soames, the solicitor, and her cousin.
“Lucy, pray remember where you are!” Mrs. Beckwith admonished in a weary tone, with no expectation of being attended to.
“I am sorry, my dear, but I’m afraid it is all too true,” Mr. Soames said gravely, peering at her over the top of his pince-nez.
“My father left me no money at all?” Lucy’s eyes had widened with shock.
“He had very little to leave you. As you know, your father quarrelled with your grandfather and his allowance was cut off before you were born. Fortunately, he inherited a life interest in what is called an ‘easy competence’ some years previously. When his father disinherited him, the life interest continued, in spite of your grandfather’s attempts to have it removed. Major Ridgeway has been living on the income from that legacy ever since. Because it was only a life interest though, with his death that income passes now to
one of his cousins.”
“Why does it not pass to me?”
The solicitor looked at her. “Life interests end with the death of the recipient and cannot be passed on to their heirs. This bequest is specific to males who bear the name ‘Charles’ and are related by blood to the original donor. Since you are a female with no brother to inherit, the income must now go to one of your father’s cousins who had also been christened ‘Charles’. Your father once told me that his godfather and namesake was widely held to be eccentric and excessively fond of his Christian name.”
“Stupid man,” Lucy murmured not quite under her breath which made Mrs. Beckwith shoot her a quelling look.
Mrs. Beckwith leaned forwards. “Mr. Soames, is it possible for us to contest that relative’s will? Surely Lucy’s birth changes the circumstances of the initial bequest?”
“You may contest it, Mrs. Beckwith, if you wish. I must warn you that it would cost you a great deal of money and you would be unlikely to win. It’s not illegal for a man to leave his estate where he chooses, however foolish we may think him. Major Ridgeway did not have any direct claim upon his godfather. He used the interest on the legacy to provide a home for his daughter and to pay her school fees. Since he possessed no other source of income when he went to Spain, he was in the unenviable position of having to live solely off his army pay.”
“I did not know that.” Lucy turned to her cousin. “Did you, Becky?”
“Not really, although your father used to ask me to try to economise where I could. I imagined he merely wanted to curb your extravagance because I thought he had a large income which was difficult to access except at certain times of the year.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lucy demanded, remembering her guardian’s veto on some of her more outrageous demands.
“You were too young the last time your father came to our house. He placed your affairs in my hands just before he left for the Peninsula. Indeed I would not tell you now, except that your father’s sudden death has changed your circumstances and new provision must be made for your future.”
“New provision? My future? What do you mean? My debut?”
The solicitor and Mrs. Beckwith exchanged glances. “I doubt very much that your debut can proceed this year without another source of finance.” Mr. Soames said. “Your father’s horses and his equipment have already been sold, as is the custom with the army in Spain. His colonel has forwarded the proceeds to me to distribute according to the provisions of Major Ridgeway’s will.”
“Well then?” Lucy demanded, thinking they had merely been trying to frighten her. Becky had used such tactics in the past, to control her more difficult behaviour. Sometimes it had even worked. Maybe the position was not as dreadful as they seemed to be saying. After all, how could they meddle with her debut, the most important moment of a girl’s life? It was only months away and she had been longing for it to happen for years.
“Lucy, please moderate your tone,” her cousin admonished. “Mr. Soames is trying to assist us in an extremely difficult situation. Your father’s death changes everything.”
Lucy rounded on her. “Is he saying that I can’t make my debut? If I don’t, how can I ever get a husband?”
“Control yourself, Lucy, I beg of you. You are putting me to the blush with your behaviour. Mr. Soames will think you have been badly brought up.”
“I don’t care! If my whole future is to be ruined you can’t expect me to behave as if nothing has happened!” Lucy burst into noisy weeping. Mr. Soames merely raised his eyebrows to Heaven and produced a large pocket handkerchief which he handed to her.
When her tears abated in fury, Mr. Soames said,
“This is all very distressing my dear, but you had to be told and Mrs. Beckwith asked me to be the one to tell you. It’s important that you understand the situation so we can consider the best thing to be done. The sum raised by your father’s brother officers has enabled me to settle his debts, so that there will be no calls upon you in future, for which I am thankful. There is nothing more unpleasant than being dunned by creditors. Unfortunately, since the debts were considerable, little remains of the money that was sent to me.”
Lucy blew her nose defiantly into the clean white handkerchief and asked,
“What about the dowry Papa said he had put away for me? And my mother’s fortune?”
“You no longer possess a dowry, my dear. Your father used the money he had set aside and the remains of your mother’s inheritance before he left for Spain. As you will know, one of his superior officers was selling out and remaining in England. Your father bought his promotion to major, because he had already received the recommendation of his colonel, allowing him to proceed. I tried to dissuade him from following a course which I considered reckless because, if something untoward happened to him in Spain, you would be left without provision. I am afraid he laughed at me, saying that he had no intention of dying until he was a white haired old man. I remember that he was elated at the prospect of becoming a major because he was rather young for the rank. He assured me that, when he returned and sold out of the army, he would have ample funds at his disposal. He would make everything right for you and live in comfort for the rest of his life. Sadly my fears have come true and that is no longer possible.”
“Sir, if I may?” Mrs. Beckwith entered the discussion, an unaccustomed frown on her usually pleasant face.
“Yes, Mrs. Beckwith?”
“Exactly how much money does Lucy inherit, now that the debts have been paid?”
“A little over twenty guineas.”
Mrs. Beckwith gasped. “Why that won’t even pay for Lucy’s clothing and board until the start of the Season, never mind allow her to be presented at court, as her father wished.”
The solicitor nodded, looking doleful.
“With all the goodwill in the world, I do not see how I can continue the arrangement I made with Major Ridgeway,” Mrs. Beckwith said. “My own circumstances are straightened and barely enough for my family’s needs. My eldest daughter is about to make her come out this Season and I have other daughters to provide for after her.” She turned to look at Lucy. “It is as much as I can do to find sufficient funds to launch Caroline; I cannot undertake to pay for Lucy as well.”
“Caroline, it’s always Caroline,” Lucy muttered, waspishly.
“What did you say, Lucy?” Mrs. Beckwith asked in a dangerous voice.
“I said that it’s only Caroline who counts with you. What about me?”
Mrs. Beckwith drew herself up, her temper snapping at last. “Caroline is my daughter and my prime responsibility. I have looked after you well for the sake of your poor mother, my cousin whom I loved. I have put up with your tantrums and your distempered freaks ever since you came to live with me. Time after time you put me to the blush. I excused you when you were young, because of the loss of your mother. I can’t excuse you any more now that you are grown up. If things had been different, I would have seen you presented and settled into a suitable marriage. That cannot happen without sufficient money. I won’t use what little I have and deprive Caroline of her expectations, such as they are. When have you done anything for us that would make me want to put your interests before hers?”
Lucy bit her lip and clenched her fists knowing exactly what her cousin meant. She had always considered herself to be the most important person in her cousin’s house. An heiress, with beauty and charm, she was the one to whom eyes turned, not Caroline, never Caroline! Now Caroline would be presented as planned and she would not. Lucy writhed inwardly.
It had been intended that both cousins were to be introduced to the Ton under the auspices of the noble but impoverished Lady Westmore. Lady Westmore added to her income every year by sponsoring one or two debutantes of good birth but straitened circumstances during their first Season. It was a rule that debutantes must be presented to the Queen by a lady who had herself been presented. Estranged from his family, Major Ridgeway had not approached any of h
is female relatives to sponsor Lucy. Mrs. Beckwith, a cousin of Lucy’s mother, did not move in such circles and so was ineligible. Mrs. Beckwith, however, was ambitious for her daughters to make suitable matches, despite their disadvantages in birth and fortune. Lady Westmore’s charges were high. If Caroline did not achieve a suitable marriage in her first Season, Lucy knew that Mrs. Beckwith would not be able to afford to give her another. Caroline would be forced to retire from society and yield her place to her younger sisters. Lucy had pitied her, thinking that this would likely be her fate, while she felt sure that she herself would succeed. Now she would be excluded from that most important set of events. Mrs Beckwith continued to frown at Lucy and there had been an implacable note in her voice which Lucy, for all her bravado, dared not challenge.
“I have a suggestion to make,” Mr. Soames said into the sudden silence.
“If you can think of a way out of this difficulty, I would be most grateful to you,” Mrs. Beckwith replied. Lucy found it hard to speak, so she merely nodded.
“I will pay the twenty guineas over to you now, which should help you in the immediate future. I am obliged to write to Major Ridgeway’s parents to inform them of his death, so that the bequest can be transferred. With your permission, I would like to take the opportunity to explain the situation Lucy finds herself in. Mrs Ridgeway’s parents, as you know, are deceased and you are her only living relative."
“Why should my grandparents bother with me, when they disinherited Papa and I have never met either of them?” Lucy asked. She had known for years that her grandfather had disapproved of his son’s tempestuous marriage. Miranda Staveley was the daughter of a mere merchant and not even a rich one at that. The fact that her mother had been beautiful, sweet and loving did not matter to the old man. She ‘smelled of the shop’. Neither Miranda’s birth nor her fortune appealed to General Ridgeway and he had acted accordingly to disinherit his second son.
Regency Belles & Beaux Page 36