~~~~~
Charlton had arrived at Lady Bellmount’s Ball full of anticipation. As usual, the first thing he did on entering the room was look for Lady Odette. Her father was obvious, but she was not.
Tamping down his disappointment, he made the rounds of the room, greeting friends, and still looking for her, all the while watching her father’s activity. When the Comte went in the direction of the card room, Charlton breathed a sigh of relief. He would find the man there, later.
Finally, he discovered Lady Odette, near a cluster of young ladies who were not her usual social circle, behind a collection of potted palms in a corner. If he didn’t know better, he would think that she was hiding.
Smiling, he approached her, bowed over her hand, and requested a dance, confidently expecting her usual pleased, if diffident, acceptance.
He was shocked when she denied him, pleading tiredness, and rapidly turned away. Stunned, and, truth to tell, rather hurt, he shook himself out of his surprise, and took himself off to the card room. Perhaps it was for the best – he was, after all, trying to trap her father, and prove his treasonous intent. An association with the man’s daughter was doomed from the start. Yet he had been unable to stay away.
The sad look in her blue violet eyes, just as she had turned away, haunted his thoughts as he sought the unappealing company of her father.
~~~~~
Lady Farnsworth observed Odette with growing concern. Something was most obviously wrong – she just didn’t know, yet, what it was.
She did know that Odette had gone, seemingly overnight, from a young woman who was enjoying herself as she blossomed from her initial shyness, and became used to the attention of gentlemen, to a withdrawn and worn looking girl, with shadows under her eyes, and a haunted look. A girl who now avoided the one man that she had previously shown any interest in.
Anna Trubridge, Viscountess Farnsworth, was not a woman to let someone she cared about suffer. Nor was she prone to letting go of a puzzle until she had solved it. She had not wanted to push Odette – surely the girl would tell her what troubled her, soon. But she was beginning to wonder how long ‘soon’, might be.
The morning sun glinted off the gold edging on the delicate teacup, as she raised it to her mouth, and the slight warmth of the sunlight streaming through the window of her private sitting room was welcome. Anna loved these quiet moments – too early for most of her friends to ever consider it a polite time to visit, earlier than her niece usually arose, and a time when her brother-in-law had, at least of late, already left the house to go about his business, whatever that was. No-one disturbed her, and she could sit and think, or read, or embroider, as she wished.
Breaking that treasured quiet, a tentative knock sounded on the door. Surprised, she placed the cup on the side table, and bid whoever it was to enter.
“Good morning Aunt, I hope that I am not disturbing you too early?” Odette’s voice shook a little as she spoke.
“My darling girl, I always have time for you. But you seem troubled – what is it?”
“Oh Aunt….”
Odette’s voice shook more, and she choked back a little sob.
Lady Farnsworth drew her down to sit beside her, and simply waited.
“I… I… I am so confused! I must know what the truth is! It is more than I can bear.” A trickle of tears rolled down Odette’s cheek, and her aunt simply handed her a delicate embroidered handkerchief and nodded. Odette gulped, and continued, the words pouring from her, now that she had begun.
“I do not know what to believe, for surely my father would not lie to me, yet surely Charlton… Viscount Pendholm… would not… could not… be… as my father has said he is!”
Eventually the confused tumble of explanation had delivered the whole story to Anna’s ears, and, apart from internally cursing her brother-in-law for a heavy handed fool, she found herself completely in sympathy with her niece.
She could not believe this of Charlton Edgeworth any more than her niece could. She could, however, more easily believe that Jean-Baptiste had lied than his daughter could.
But why would he do so? Especially when he continued to associate with the Viscount?
It was a puzzle – a puzzle that she wanted to solve, not just because she wished to heal her niece’s broken heart, but because it intrigued her, far more than the on dits of the ton gossip mongers ever did.
“Dear girl, if you find yourself to be in love with the Viscount – and I must say that I, at least, am delighted with your choice of man to fall for! – then we must, of a certainty, resolve this puzzle. For I do not find this in character for him at all – nothing I have seen of him suggests that he might do such a thing. I have become quite close with his dear mother, and he is such a support to her, so honourable in all of his dealings, I just cannot countenance that this is true!”
A smile lit Odette’s face, for the first time that week.
“Oh, I am so relieved that you consider it so. For I have been quite maddened by my doubts, and unable to sleep for fear that either thing might be true. But… if Charlton did not do this, then that must mean my father has lied… which I do not want to believe of him! But if he truly thought it was truth that he told me, how can that be?”
A considering expression passed over Lady Farnsworth’s face, and she stared blankly at the delicate china teacup as she thought.
“I do not know. Yet. But we will find out. I believe that I must call upon Lady Pendholm. She is wise, and has seen much difficulty over the last years, with the scandalous death of her son, the previous Viscount Pendholm – and, although she has not admitted as much, I believe for some time before that, as the man’s behaviour is rumoured to have been of the worst sort, before his death. Perhaps, indeed, it led to his death… I am sure that she will be able to clear up this confusion for us, at least as far as validating the truth about the Viscount’s behaviour. She may be shocked at this accusation, but she will be quite capable of discussing the topic.”
“If… if you are sure that she will not be too shocked… after all, it is a topic not generally regarded as fit for a lady’s ears – then I would be most grateful for your assistance in arranging such a visit.”
“I trust in her ability to behave like a sensible woman! You know, niece, it occurs to me that there is a significant point in favour of our belief that this cannot be true of the Viscount – at least not true as it has been told to you. Consider – the Viscount has just returned from serving his country, very heroically I am told, in the wars. Before his recent return, but 3 months ago, he had been absent from England for four long years – I am certain of this, for his mother has spoken of how grateful she is for his return, alive, after so long.”
She paused, and Odette looked at her, unsure where she was going with this information.
“Don’t you see, my darling, if the child is very young, it can’t possibly be the Viscount’s, for any child born of his association with a woman here, in London, would have to be at least three years old by now. Yet you have been told this child is very young. It is, therefore, quite impossible for it to be his.”
Somewhat embarrassed by this discussion of the interactions between a man and a woman that produced children (interactions which her aunt had been at pains to explain to her, however embarrassing the discussion, unlike some mothers and guardians, who left the charges innocent of all understanding), Odette took a moment to comprehend the meaning of her aunt’s words. Once she did, relief flooded through her – the child could not be Charlton’s! This did not explain the rest, but if lifted a heavy burden from her heart.
Odette flung her arms around her aunt and hugged her, quite startling Anna with this spontaneous expression of joy. Recovering, Anna returned the embrace, glad to see something other than unhappiness on her niece’s face for the first time in over a week.
“I will send a letter to dear Lady Sylvia immediately – perhaps I may even call on her today.”
~~~~~
; Lady Pendholm had been curious when she received the letter from Lady Farnsworth, but had readily agreed to the visit. She had become rather fond of Lady Anna over the last few months, finding her shrewd observations and sharp wit to be refreshing, as her comments, whilst highly amusing, were never tainted with malice.
The visit would enliven her day – for once, she was alone, with no commitments for the afternoon. Harriet was attending a luncheon at a new found friend’s house, with Miss Carpenter, now ‘promoted’ from governess to companion, as her chaperone. Charlton had gone to Tattersall’s with some of the Hounds, having promised Harriet a new mount – one better suited to her ‘grown up status’.
When Clarick announced Lady Farnsworth, Lady Sylvia rose to take her hands and greet her warmly.
“Dear Anna, do come and take a seat near the fire. Clarick, please have some tea and cakes sent up. Oh – you do like tea? Or would you prefer coffee? “
“Tea would be wonderful, thank you!”
At Lady Anna’s words, Lady Sylvia nodded at Clarick, who bowed and closed the door.
“I must apologise for giving you so little warning of my intent to visit – I have been intending to do so for quite some time, but something happened this morning that rather forced my hand.”
Upon hearing this interesting pronouncement, Lady Sylvia was certain that the visit would, indeed, enliven her day – although perhaps not in the manner that she had imagined. It all sounded rather mysterious.
“Do not trouble yourself – my afternoon was, for once, quite uncommitted – I am most happy to see you. But tell me, what can I do to assist you – for your words lead me to think that you do, indeed, need my help with something.”
Anna sank onto the comfortable couch, sighing with relief at Lady Sylvia’s attitude. Truth to tell, she had, despite her confident words to Odette, been a little concerned about how Lady Sylvia might respond. She was about to speak when a maid arrived with the tea, and waited until the girl was gone before beginning.
Lady Sylvia poured the tea, waiting, with interest, for Anna’s words. Over the last week or so, she had noticed, at the Balls and events that they attended, that Anna’s niece seemed dispirited – when she saw her.
It had been almost as if the girl was avoiding her family. She wondered if this might have anything to do with that.
“I don’t quite know how to begin… I fear that what I have to say may shock you, yet I must tell you this, must ask you a most important question. For this matter closely concerns your family.”
Lady Sylvia’s heart fell, although she did not allow her disquiet to show on her face. Surely there were not more terrible results of Michael’s behaviour to be revealed.
“Let me start by telling you that my niece has admitted to me that she has, perhaps foolishly, fallen in love with your son, the Viscount.”
“But my dear Anna, that is delightful news! She is a wonderful girl – I am most fond of her, and so is Harriet. But surely that is not what concerns you? There is more, I can tell from your face.”
Anna nodded, and, steeling herself for Lady Sylvia’s reaction, she went on.
“There is, indeed, more. There is no easy, or polite, way to say this, so I hope that you will forgive me for raising such an improper topic of conversation, but I must. My niece has been told, by someone she trusts, that the Viscount has a mistress….” The shock on Lady Sylvia’s face made Anna pause for a moment, before she bravely continued, “…a mistress with whom he has a child. Apparently the woman is supposed to have been set up in a house, with the child, and a companion, in some semi respectable area of London.”
Before Anna could speak further, Lady Sylvia, after what appeared to be a moment of thought, burst into laughter. It lit her face up, and it was obvious how beautiful she must have been as a young woman.
Anna was startled – this was certainly not the sort of response that she had expected!
“Neither Odette nor I could quite believe it of him, yet she has been distraught, for if it were true, and his affections were engaged there, then her affection for him would be in vain, for she would wish that the man she loves also loves her. But… my dear Sylvia, please, tell me, what is it about this that makes you laugh so, for surely, that is quite the last reaction that I had expected!”
Lady Sylvia finally quelled her laughter, which had continued, although subdued, through this last part of Anna’s speech.
“Oh Anna, I must sincerely apologise. For, when you began, I had the most terrible premonition that you were about to reveal to me yet another infamous act on the part of my deceased son, Michael, the previous Viscount. Instead, it is this – such a relief! For I know exactly what has led to this supposition – and it is not what it seems at all.”
Anna waited, somewhat puzzled, but also hopeful. She sipped her tea, as Lady Sylvia, composing herself, continued. “To explain this, Anna, I must tell you a tale, the details of which I must ask you to divulge to no-one else, save your niece, for it brings to light things that my family would rather have forgotten, now that the gossip that came from the scandalous manner of Michael’s death has died down.”
Lady Farnsworth nodded her agreement to this request, intrigued. It seemed that there was, indeed far more to this than had been obvious.
“Of course, Lady Sylvia, I will hold this in the strictest of confidence.”
“You have probably heard at least some of the rumours about Michael’s behaviour?” at Lady Anna’s nod, she continued. “Most of them are, unfortunately, true. He ruined others at cards – not by cheating, but by being very, very good at what he did. But he did it with malicious intent. And it seems that he had a range of other dealings with less desirable parts of the community, most of which were not honourable in any way. It is those dealings which we suspect may have led to his death. But quite the worst of it, at least from my point of view, was his attitude to women.”
Lady Sylvia paused, and took a sip of tea. To speak of this to anyone outside the household was still very difficult, but she would go on – she owed Anna an explanation.
“Michael liked to treat women as toys in the worst kind of way. He seduced them, used them. He liked… liked…..” Lady Sylvia took another breath, close to tears, “he liked to hurt them, hurt them badly. He wanted their fear. I am so ashamed that I should have produced a child who became a man like that!”
Anna reached across and took Sylvia’s hand, heartsick for her.
“At first I was not aware of it, but then… then maids began to leave, to just disappear. A girl must be desperate to leave, without a character. And finally, when my own ladies maid went, she left me a hidden note. And I knew then that she, and others before her, left because they were with child, and feared to lose their babies if he hit them again.”
The tears ran unchecked down Lady Sylvia’s face, for until she had found them all, she could not forgive herself for what had happened. Mary and Sylvie were a joy, but… where were the others?
“Shortly after that, Michael was dead. Am I so terrible a person, if I say that I was glad? Yes, glad, that my own son was dead? Because I was glad. He could not hurt anyone, ever again. I began to search. I employed an investigator – I still do, to search for the girls. So far he has found only one of them, my maid, Mary. With Charlton’s agreement, I have purchased a house for them. Mary, her sister Rose and baby Sylvie live there now. My grandchild might have died this winter, had we not found them!”
“But Sylvia, that is wonderful - that you have found them!”
“Yes, but it is not enough! I must find the others. Charlton agrees – any child with the blood of our family in its veins should be cared for by us, bastard born or not. Charlton visits them often, to make sure that the staff we have placed there do their work, that the girls and the child are well cared for. He has become fond of young Sylvie – he will make a good father, when he chooses to marry. But he cares for Mary only as if she were a sister – there is nothing more, I assure you. She has taken a
long time to trust him – at first she feared that he would be like his brother, but now she knows that is not true.”
“You are an amazing woman, Lady Sylvia. Most matriarchs of the ton would wish never to see the women seduced by their son, or the children that resulted. They would wish to hide or ignore the family scandal, pretending it never existed. Yet you have the courage to seek these women out and help them! If there is any way that I can help you to find the others, please, do ask me. I longed for children of my own, but, alas, there were none – I take delight in helping other’s children if I can.”
“Anna – would you, and Lady Odette, care to meet Mary and Sylvie? I want you to be quite sure of the truth of this, to hear it from Mary’s own lips. I want no trace of scandal to touch Charlton, and I ask your help in making only the truth known.”
“What a wonderful idea! Of course we would be delighted to meet them. Let us arrange a visit for a few days hence. I must admit, I feel so relieved, and I am sure that Odette will also feel so. Perhaps she will cheer up a little. I fear, however, that her father does not entirely approve of her associating with the Viscount, although I don’t, truly, understand why, when he seems quite friendly with him, himself. She is a dutiful daughter, so if there is any chance of your son caring for her, there will likely be some hurdles still to be overcome.”
Lady Sylvia’s eyes sparkled, and her dazzling smile returned.
“I am sure that I can… explore… my son’s potential feelings for Lady Odette, and let you know.”
After another cup of tea, and an hour’s conversation on many other topics, Anna departed, happy with what she had learned, and even happier that she had found, in Lady Sylvia, a dear friend.
The fireplace in the tiny back room of the squalid inn smoked. Producing smoke was the only thing it was good for – it certainly did not give off much heat. Charlton and Geoffrey sat at the crooked table and sipped the sour ale. The only thing that could be said for the place was that it had a private room, and it wasn’t anywhere that a member of the ton might see them.
Intriguing the Viscount: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 2) Page 9