Outrageous Fortune

by Freda Lightfoot

  Charlotte went across to put her arms about him, placed her overheated cheek upon his collar, and hugged him close. ‘You are so dear to me that I do not feel the need to look beyond this house for my happiness. I should so like to see that you and Alice and everyone at the farm be the ones to benefit from my good fortune, instead of me.’

  Nathan found himself blinking furiously. ‘Tush, that is nonsense. We have no need of any more money and it is time you saw something of the world,’ he said, firmly seating Charlotte back in the armchair. I do not wish you to worry any more about it for the present. There is no need for you to have any contact with your father if you do not wish it, and he has already indicated his own feelings on that score. But you have your future to think of, my dear, and he can well afford the sum mentioned. Now, put it from your mind and enjoy your birthday. I forgot to mention we have a new guest coming, someone I very much wish you to meet. Ah, here he is in person.’

  ‘Am I intruding?’

  Charlotte jumped in alarm as she recognised the deep tones of that so familiar voice.

  ‘No, indeed, Sir James, please do come in. May I offer you a glass of wine?’ asked Nathan expansively.

  ‘It seems to have become a habit of mine, venturing into places where I am not expected,’ said James dryly, glaring unsmilingly into Charlotte’s ashen face.

  ‘Allow me to introduce my niece, Charlotte Forbes. Sir James Caraddon.’

  And, while Charlotte fought for composure, James bowed with excessive courtesy. ‘I believe we met just now, in the yard,’ he said coolly.

  Charlotte held her breath, dreading the inevitable. Uncle Nathan would be desperately upset by such a disclosure, and it was all so unnecessary. Sir James Caraddon’s eyes sparkled dangerously at her discomfiture, but at least the brooding frown was gone, and when Uncle Nathan expressed an interest in this first meeting, Sir James merely said that Charlotte had directed him to the house.

  Charlotte breathed again, signalling her gratitude with an expression of relief. Perhaps he was not so terrible a man after all.

  ‘You must join us for luncheon,’ said Nathan quickly. He suddenly felt a pressing need for a third party to be present. ‘It will be but a cold collation since Alice is busy preparing tomorrow’s birthday feast, but you are more than welcome to share it with us. Ah, now, Charlotte, and here is the ideal opportunity for you to seek Sir James’s advice. He is famous for his acumen with investments, in addition of course to his natural charm. We humble country bumpkins would be glad of your city knowledge, sir.’

  ‘Advice?’ queried James, looking from one to the other, for Nathan Pierce was behaving decidedly oddly and Charlotte looked ready to burst into tears. He was more than a little intrigued. Something was amiss and he couldn’t for the life of him make out what it might be. Unless, of course, the old man had heard about the frolics in the hay barn. As his grandmother had indicated, they appeared to be a very odd family indeed. Yet even she, it seemed, had overestimated the girl’s innocence.

  ‘I know you mean well, Uncle,’ said Charlotte, her voice dangerously high pitched for she was by now thoroughly agitated, ‘but I believe I have already made my feelings on that subject quite plain. I have not as yet decided whether to take up this so-called inheritance. Therefore it follows that advice, no matter how charmingly presented, will not be called for.’ Whereupon Charlotte ran from the room, leaving the two gentlemen to make what they might of her behaviour.

  Chapter Three

  Charlotte sat upon her bed, her body shaking with shock. This was the last news she’d expected to hear on the day before her birthday. It hurt so much that she could hardly bear the pain of it. She wished she had never learned the truth, that she still thought her father dead. It would be better that way. Tears ran down her cheeks though she bit hard upon her lower lip in a valiant attempt to stop them.

  After a while, when she felt calmer, she began to think more clearly. She was no worse off than she had been before today. Her father, Lord Justin Forbes, whoever and wherever he was, did not want her. So be it. Why he should feel that way she did not know, for how could a child of two have offended him in any way? The only thing she could think of was that perhaps, being a girl, she had reminded him too much of the beloved wife he had lost.

  Fresh tears of sorrow spurted and her jade eyes brimmed with compassion. Yet sixteen years was a long time, almost a lifetime in Charlotte’s case. He might have written to ask after her health, even if he did not wish to see her.

  Once more self pity threatened and Charlotte had to be very firm with herself not to break down again. She drew air into too tight lungs and reminded herself that she had never felt the need of a father in all these long years and did not need one now. She had Uncle Nat and Alice, and Molly and Dickon. Charlotte knew herself to be truly blessed. Going to the porcelain basin, she splashed cold water over her heated face and felt a little better. She would lie down for an hour and rest her sore eyes. Perhaps then she would feel able to face the world. She certainly had no wish to share a meal with Sir James Caraddon. That would be too much to endure with him teasing her throughout with his bold assessing stare, particularly with the advantage he now believed he had over her. To discuss her position with him, this shocking new information which she had not yet come to terms with herself, would have been quite untenable.

  There came a light rap upon the bedroom door. ‘Miss Charlotte? Are you asleep?’

  Charlotte slid from the bed and went to open the door, ‘No, Alice, I am not.’

  ‘I have brought you a dish of hot chicken soup. The master said you had a headache and wouldn’t want much lunch.’

  ‘Oh Alice!’ The housekeeper’s kindness was too much for Charlotte in her fragile state, and she burst into tears all over again. Later, after they had been mopped up and, helped by the delicious soup, Charlotte calmed down, she told the silent Alice what she had learned. ‘I had never expected such a thing. And the money, Alice. Can you imagine it? I cannot, nor do I wish to.’

  Charlotte was well aware that most young ladies her age would be delighted by the prospect of ten thousand pounds a year, but she had been brought up not to expect or prize wealth in any way and she certainly could not begin to do so now. Important to her were people to love and to cherish, and be loved in return, as she was here at Caperley; to respect nature and care about one’s family and neighbours; to fill each day with some new challenge and to explore the world of art and literature. These were the beliefs which Uncle Nathan had taught her and these were the things which mattered. Upon these philosophies had been built the foundation of her young life, but now she felt that very security in which she had believed to be threatened by a future both alien and uncertain.

  ‘What would I do with such a sum?’ she asked helplessly.

  Alice considered the question quietly for a moment. ‘I suppose you could buy yourself a house in town, have pretty gowns to wear and servants to wait upon your every whim. You could attend balls and soirees and look over all the young men who would surely flurry around such a pretty young lady.’

  Charlotte had listened with startled attention to all of this, then, catching the twinkle in Alice’s eye, she burst out laughing. ‘Very well, Alice. You have made your point. Perhaps it is not the worst disaster in the world to be granted such a sum to live on, but it came as a shock to me, on top of everything else.’

  Alice patted her cheek with doting gentleness. ‘I dare say it did, my lovely. To be honest with you I’ve mentioned the fact to your uncle more than once that he ought to take you into his complete confidence, but he would have none of it. When she’s older, he’d say. Not yet, Alice, he’d say, and I’d shake my head at him and he’d smile in that sheepish way he has. A kind, sweet man he be, but he do avoid unpleasant truths.’

  Charlotte gave a little smile of understanding. ‘Yes, l can see that.’

  Alice looked at her carefully for a long moment, compassion reflected in her kindly eyes. ‘You must ever rem
ember, Charlotte, whatever may come about in your life, that you are well loved.’

  Charlotte nodded, too full of emotion to speak. ‘And from all these fine gentlemen who will come to call, you can choose yourself a husband who will love you to distraction.’ Alice beamed. ‘You see if I’m not right,’ she said, and laughed as Charlotte wrinkled her nose with distaste.

  ‘The idea of being hounded by young gentlemen simply for my fortune is utterly distasteful to me. Besides, I would soon grow bored with such a light-minded social existence. Much as I would like to look pretty, and even fall in love and marry one day, it surely could be achieved in a far less mercenary manner. How would I ever know if they really liked me or simply my money?’ It was a cry from the heart and Alice put her arms around Charlotte as she recognised it as such.

  ‘Someone will love you because you deserve to be loved, and it will have nothing to do with your money, my lovely. But if you do not want that kind of life, then find another. You could tour the world if you so wished. There are certainly funds enough to pay for companions, luggage, transport, whatever. Or you could give much of it away to worthy causes. The decision is yours, Charlotte, but do not dismiss it quite out of hand. Consider the alternatives very carefully. A woman has a hard enough way to make through life in this world. Without money it is a hundred times more difficult, believe me. Now, no more weeping. The answer will come to you.’

  By the time Alice had left her, Charlotte was feeling cheerful enough to write out the place cards for the table before taking her nap. It was simply the shock of it all, she decided. Alice and Uncle Nathan were quite right, now was not the moment to make decisions. She was almost laughing at herself by the time sleep claimed her, for if that was the worst news she ever received in her life what did she have to worry about?

  Downstairs, in their respective quarters, Nathan and Alice each silently reflected upon Charlotte’s reaction to this piece of news and privately wondered what they might expect when she was finally given the whole tale.

  * * * *

  The morning of Charlotte’s birthday dawned with that kind of silvered ethereal light which often presaged snow. The sky was clotted with creamy cloud and out at sea seemed to melt into the gleaming icy water. Warmly ensconced in the kitchen window seat as she sipped her morning chocolate, Charlotte shivered. On this day the sun should have shone, the air should have sparkled. Nothing was going according to plan.

  ‘Don’t fret over it,’ said Alice, pulling the last of the loaves from the oven. She had been up since four, baking them. ‘It’ll hold off till tomorrow. Old Matthew says so and he’m never wrong.’

  There was little time to think of the weather in the hustle and bustle of preparing for the party. The white damask table linen had to be ironed and all the best glasses and china washed and dried with a soft cloth. Then Charlotte and Molly spread the tablecloth over a thick felt mat laid upon the big mahogany table in the eating parlour, and the silver branched candlesticks were placed one at each end. Molly had spent hours the previous day polishing these along with the silver forks, pepper pots and salt cellars. Charlotte trimmed some sprigs of holly with scarlet ribbon for a centrepiece and with the folded napkins and name cards in place, each one illustrated with a flower, the table was ready and both girls were pleased with the result.

  ‘Now all I have to do is to get myself ready,’ said Charlotte with satisfaction. ‘Oh, Molly, it is all so exciting.’

  ‘I wonder what your uncle will have got you for your birthday,’ whispered Molly, avid with curiosity. ‘He’ve been planning something, ‘cause there’ve been many secret letters flying back and forth.’

  ‘Then I don’t think you should be telling me of it,’ said Charlotte with a laugh, only to change it into a small frown. ‘But I’m not sure I can take many more surprises. I hope they are pleasant ones.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t they be, on your birthday? Everyone have got you a present, even old Matthew.’

  ‘You all thoroughly spoil me.’

  ‘Dickon do,’ agreed Molly tactlessly. ‘He been saving for so long and he won’t even tell me what he’s got you.’

  Charlotte passed this off with a slightly shaky laugh. She’d become aware of Molly’s affections some time ago and was anxious not to cause unnecessary jealousy. But it served to remind her that she must manage to speak to Dickon most seriously soon. The last thing she wanted was to have to resort to telling Uncle Nat. That would make a mountain out of a very small molehill.

  A simple noonday meal of bread, honey and coffee was prepared and, while Molly went to join her mother in the kitchen, Charlotte set a side table before the fire in the small parlour and sat gazing dreamily into it as she waited for her uncle to join her. Her mind kept playing over the scene in the hay barn the previous day and a small frown crumpled her smooth brow. She could well understand Sir James Caraddon taking a high-handed attitude towards such seemingly wanton behaviour, but she had the oddest feeling that there was something more behind his censure, something as yet indefinable.

  Even as Charlotte manufactured his face against the background of the leaping flames, her heart began to pound the way it had done when she first saw him. He had the oddest effect upon her and he was certainly not a man to ignore, nor did he seem used to being rebuffed as she had done when she ran from the room rather than share lunch with him.

  Once again she experienced a deep sadness that they should meet in such a way. Sir James was so intriguing and so very handsome that Charlotte would not have been human had she not wished that their introduction could have been different. Tucking up her knees, she hugged them in a sudden burst of exuberance and her eyes glazed with dreams as she stared into the flames. Perhaps tonight at her party he would be so stunned by her beauty that they would become fast friends and he would forgive her indiscretion. She would dance and smile and show him how very sophisticated she was and not at all the country bumpkin he thought her to be, and he would be entirely captivated by her charm.

  ‘The sound of the door opening sent the fanciful images shimmering into tiny pieces as she turned, a ready smile for her uncle upon her lips, only to find it was the very incarnation of those dreams.

  Sir James looked almost as surprised as she as he stood in the doorway, his gaze riveted upon the small figure so cosily ensconced before the fire. He saw a picture of appealing innocence, the cheeks flushed rosy from the heat, the eyes lit by a haunting beauty, darkly fringed by sweeping lashes. It was hard to equate this sweet girl with the scene in the hay barn which had done its best to spoil his sleep last night. Even the muslin cap still sensibly in place gave a certain rustic charm to the whole.

  ‘Miss Forbes?’ he said at last, then fell silent for he could think of nothing to say to her.

  Setting her feet quickly upon the floor and demurely smoothing her skirt, Charlotte could do no more than manage a flicker of a hand, indicting that he take a seat opposite. He was the last person she had expected to see, believing that he had left after lunch yesterday. In a daze, without even asking how he liked it, she poured coffee, added a dash of cream and handed it to him without a word. Her mind was whirling. What was he doing here? Her guests were not expected until four o’clock and it was the height of bad manners to come early, yet nothing on earth would induce her to question him upon it. Small talk was not high on her list of attributes and this seemed not the moment to practise.

  So she busied herself by cutting thick slices of Alice’s fresh bread and passing them to him, together with their own yellow butter and fragrant honey for Sir James to help himself. He did so readily enough and when some moments later they were joined by Uncle Nathan and Dickon it was not perhaps so surprising that the scene was mistakenly interpreted as companionable.

  Dickon positively glowered at Sir James as he dropped into a hard chair beside him, but, as Charlotte handed Dickon a plate of bread and butter, he forgot all else for a time in his eagerness to quench his hunger. Sir James watched Dickon load his bread wi
th honey in an almost condemning silence before asking in ironic tones what he’d been doing to produce such a healthy appetite.

  ‘Working,’ came the uncompromising reply issued through a mouth as full of venom as it was packed with food. Charlotte was at last forced into speech.

  ‘Dickon does much of the work on the farm, helped by old Matthew and his son Thomas.’

  Sir James raised finely sculpted brows at Nathan who stood with his back to the fire, sipping coffee. ‘How many acres do you have?’

  ‘No more than a hundred and sixty and much of it rough moorland fit only for sheep.’

  ‘It’s still a deal of work for only three men.’

  Nathan looked faintly perplexed, not having seriously considered the matter before.

  They manage. We can afford no more.

  ‘Have you never thought of selling?’ Sir James asked with an interested casualness that alighted upon the ears of his listeners with all the force of heavy logs falling.

  ‘Why should we do that?’ retorted Dickon, flecks of food spitting from his mouth in agitation. ‘The Pierce family have lived here for generations, right back to good Queen Bess and beyond. It might be a sprawling old manor farm none too comfortable in your eyes, but it be our home.’

  ‘I’m sorry; it was only that I thought if money was tight…’

  ‘We don’t want no stranger coming here and telling us what to do.’

  There was money enough in Dickon’s opinion, only his father wouldn’t spend it. But Nathan was an old man and once he was gone Dickon could use the money how he liked and pay others to labour on the farm. Then he would be the gentleman and if he couldn’t have Charlotte he’d maybe marry Molly, of which his father would not approve either. But she was certainly willing enough.