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Master of His Fate

Page 19

by Barbara Taylor Bradford


  Twenty-nine

  Later that day, James’s thoughts remained on Albert Venables. How could that vengeful being have found out about his affair with Georgiana Ward? Because that was what it had become. He had been seeing her constantly, in secret, mostly late at night, ever since the storm had thrown them together.

  The family knew he did paperwork and kept her books once a week, on Thursday evenings. So perhaps Albert was blowing that out of proportion and inventing the affair. Maybe he didn’t know anything more than that.

  Unless someone else knew and had told him. But who? Mrs. Mulvaney, the housekeeper? He did not think so. She was devoted to Mrs. Ward and had worked for her for twelve years, since her marriage to Preston Ward.

  Besides, he came and went late at night when the housekeeper was in bed, fast asleep. This aside, she was not only genuinely loyal and caring of her employer, but also desperately needed the job because of her ailing daughter.

  Sonya, the maid? He was also certain of her devotion to Mrs. Ward, who had taken her in when she was a starving child of the streets. Mrs. Ward had found her sleeping near the dustbins on the outside steps of the cellar at her townhouse in London. The Wards had taken her in, taken care of her, and Mrs. Mulvaney had trained her to be a lady’s maid. She had been with Mrs. Ward for ten years. Anyway, like Mrs. Mulvaney, Sonya adored Georgiana. She also was in bed asleep when he visited his paramour.

  As he slipped on his waistcoat and began to button it, James decided it could only be one of two things. Either Albert was making a clever guess based on the Thursday visits, or he had hired a private detective to follow him. Or maybe Albert himself was tracking him. He immediately dismissed that idea. Albert lived on the other side of Hull, and he was a married man. How would he explain his many absences late at night to Anne, his wife?

  He didn’t have to, of course, not in the all-male culture in which they currently lived. Husbands came and went as they pleased, whatever time it was.

  His aunt had actually taken him by surprise this afternoon, because he had not heard the rumors about his being involved with Mrs. Ward. Instantly, his grandmother’s endless and tireless training had kicked in. He was not born a gentleman, but she had turned him into one to such an extent that the gentlemanly attributes of an aristocrat were bred in the bone.

  So he answered Aunt Marina as a gentleman would. He lied to protect a decent woman’s name and reputation, her position in society in Hull. And also in London, for that matter. Gossip traveled as fast as a telegram these days, especially if it were salacious.

  He wondered if Georgiana had heard the rumors. Perhaps not. But one thing was imperative. She had to be told. Forewarned. And immediately. It couldn’t be tonight. There was the family supper at six o’clock, and afterwards he and William were going to a music hall and later to Restaurant Tamara for a late-night snack. They were both partial to the Russian dishes served there. He could not disrupt these plans. It would look suspicious.

  I’ll go tomorrow in broad daylight, James thought, and then thought again. Perhaps he ought not to be seen going to her house. At least not alone. William. He would ask William to accompany him, and give the reason. He wished to inform Mrs. Ward that Albert was spreading untrue rumors about them …

  James looked at his bedroom door when there was a light tap. William put his head around it. “Do you have a minute, James?” he asked.

  “I do indeed. Actually, I was just thinking about you, hoping you would do me a favor.”

  “You know I will. Anything you wish me to do. But first, I must ask you if Mama was speaking to you about Albert and the lies he’s telling about you to anyone who will listen?”

  James nodded. “She was, and I told her that it was not true. I’m not having a relationship with her friend. As you yourself pointed out weeks ago, why would I? She is an older woman, far too old for me.”

  “Exactly! She’s thirty. James, that’s twelve years older than you, since you’ll be eighteen at the end of May. What about all those pretty young things who flock around you at the dances and parties? You can take your pick.”

  “I know. Albert must really harbor a deep hatred for me to do such a thing,” James said in a low, even tone. “It’s vile.”

  “It’s his character, his nature. He was rotten to me when he was growing up. Jealous. Just as he’s jealous of you now. More so, since the collapse of the warehouse. You’re a hero to the men, James. One of them heard the rumors and vowed to me that he was going to beat Albert up, turn him into pulp. But I managed to persuade him he might just go a bit too far and kill him by mistake and that Albert wasn’t worth swinging for.”

  James nodded, and asked swiftly, “I hope it wasn’t Joe.”

  William half laughed. “Oh no, Joe truly had murderous intent on his mind, that is the truth. I talked him out of it and took the carving knife he had in his sack.”

  James was genuinely taken aback, and said slowly, “They care that much about me?” He sounded slightly surprised and puzzled.

  “Don’t be daft, of course they do. You are their hero … think about it. You saved their lives as well as your own. You prevented their wives from becoming widows.”

  James sighed and reached for his jacket. “I asked your mother what I should do, and she didn’t really have an answer. She said I should ignore it, rise above it.”

  “I think that is the best.”

  “Perhaps I should go and confront Albert. Take him to task. Threaten him with legal action, although I’m not sure about the law in this kind of thing. But surely spreading untrue stories, lying about people, is libelous, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know, but I could ask our solicitor. In the meantime, don’t go near him, please, James. He’s nasty. He’ll go for you. He’s very pugilistically inclined.”

  Esther’s words rushed into his mind. How often had she told him not to get into any fights for innumerable reasons, not to mention protecting his looks? So he said quietly, “I will take your advice and your mother’s, because you know Albert better than I do.”

  “Take it from me, he’s a sod. So let’s move on. You said a moment ago that you need a favor. What is it?”

  “Ah yes, William. Would you accompany me to the home of Mrs. Ward tomorrow morning? At around eleven. I think I must do her the courtesy of informing her about the lies Albert is passing around—the rumor that we’re having an affair. She has a right to know and to protect herself.”

  “Very gentlemanly of you, and I agree with you. Anyway, I think it is better to have someone with you. In fact, you shouldn’t go there alone ever again.”

  “Thank you,” James said, filling with relief. He had to get to Georgiana before anyone else did to ensure that she didn’t admit to anything.

  * * *

  They went downstairs together and found Marina sitting in the drawing room waiting for them. It was just the four of them for supper tonight. Although everyone in the city had been stoical, hardworking, and had set out to put Hull back together, many of the shipowners had cut down on their major entertaining and social life for the moment, deeming it unseemly.

  “So where are you two young blades going after supper?” Marina asked, smiling at her son and great-nephew, thinking how stylish they looked.

  “To the musical hall first,” William answered, kissing his mother’s cheek, sitting down next to her on the sofa.

  James followed suit, kissing her and then taking the chair opposite. “Later we’re going to have a late-night bite at the Restaurant Tamara. We really like it,” he explained.

  “I’ve never been there. Perhaps your father and I will try it, join you one night. What is the food? All Russian?”

  “No, no, it’s not,” James answered. “And it’s very good. The restaurant is owned by a young couple, Pippa and Paul Daley. They make a mixture of items. Fish and chips, cottage pie, sausage and mash, just to remind everyone they’re in a Yorkshire restaurant, but they also like to cater to foreign customers—”
r />   “You would love the caviar and blinis,” William cut in, “my own favorite, actually. James goes for their borscht, a beet soup with a blob of cream in the center. They also have French items, such as quiche Lorraine, croque monsieur.”

  “Quite a selection. You’re making my mouth water. I can’t wait to go—” Marina broke off abruptly when Clarence came walking into the room rather briskly. She knew at once that he had heard the rumors. He had a face like thunder.

  After greeting them cordially, he looked hard at his wife and said, “Why didn’t you tell me about those ridiculous tales Albert is spreading? I can’t believe, not for one second, you were endeavoring to protect that idiot.”

  “No, I wasn’t, Clarence. I only just heard them myself a couple of days ago. Frankly, you’ve had such a busy time this week; I didn’t want to worry you. I was going to inform you tonight.”

  “I see,” he said, somewhat sharply for him. He looked across at his son, and then at James. “You two know, I suspect.”

  “Mother talked to me about it this morning, and she told James this afternoon,” William replied.

  “He’s got to be stopped. Once and for all.” Leaning forward, Clarence focused on James. “He’s not going to get away with it. I can assure you of that. He has to be taught that he can’t malign people, lie about them. I am going to see him on Monday morning, first thing. He’s going to get a piece of my mind.”

  James said, “Thank you, Great-Uncle Clarence. It is a rather nasty smear, and it also damages the reputation of a decent woman.”

  Marina said swiftly, “I do hope he listens to you, Clarence. You know what he’s like, stubborn, opinionated, and spiteful.”

  “Oh, he’ll listen all right,” Clarence said in a hard tone. “I will inform him that if he ever repeats these lies about James and Georgiana Ward again, he will leave my employment. I shall give him the sack. He can go out into the world and fend for himself. No son of mine is going to remain in my employ when he spreads untrue and wicked tales about people we care about.”

  “Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t listen,” Marina said again, in a warning voice, knowing how dumb Albert was. “He’s so full of himself; he’ll believe he can get another job quite easily because he’s called Venables.”

  “He might just be dense enough to think that. However, I don’t believe he will like being disinherited, which I aim to do if he doesn’t toe the line. And at once.”

  “Would you really do that, Papa?” William asked, taken aback.

  “Of course I would, William! No son of mine is going to get away with being a liar. He’s also dimwitted, lazy, and makes bad business mistakes. Frankly, I wouldn’t miss him at all. Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

  There was a stunned silence in the room, and Marina broke it when she looked at her husband and asked, “I couldn’t help wondering this afternoon if there were any legal steps James could take? Are Albert’s lies considered libelous?”

  “Not sure. English libel laws are a bit strange. I could ask our solicitor, but frankly I can’t be bothered at the moment. Albert goes; he’s out of my will, if he doesn’t stop spreading these stories. I shall make sure he really does understand. And now that you’ve mentioned the law, I shall have Ian MacDonald in my office as my witness on Monday. I can assure you, Albert won’t like seeing my solicitor present.”

  Marina nodded, filling with relief. “Ian’s presence will have the right effect. Albert always has been a little intimidated by Ian, frightened of him, actually.”

  Clarence nodded and stood, helped Marina up off the sofa. “Let’s go in for supper, shall we? Let’s obliterate Albert and this unpleasant subject from our minds. I want to enjoy our family Saturday evening before you two go off to paint the town red.”

  * * *

  Hull had soon gone back to being a City of Gaiety, once all the debris had been removed. Parts of the town had been swiftly rebuilt.

  It was a lovely May evening when James and William walked down the High Street after supper, making for the city center.

  As usual it was full of people, groups of men, mixed couples, others walking alone. A colorful mingling of locals and visitors from other places. Hull had catered to the Baltic countries since the early 1700s, when shipping was big business and at the forefront, as it was today. This great northern seaport was always filled with ships moored along the shoreline. Many of them were anchored at the edge of the gardens outside the homes of their owners on the High Street in those days.

  All manner of goods were still traded, exports and imports; many foreign languages mingled with English. It was a grand mix.

  James enjoyed being in the middle of the city, where the theaters, music halls, shops, and restaurants were located. He felt elated to be among the madding crowd, hearing different tongues, seeing interesting faces and unique clothing that often told him from whence the wearers came. He had come to understand that he enjoyed the cosmopolitan atmosphere which gave him a boost, made him feel alive.

  Once they went into the Restaurant Tamara, after they had seen the acts at the music hall, James realized that it was an international crowd that was eating here. Foreign voices lifting into the air, along with the local Yorkshire dialect.

  Once they had ordered their food, William glanced around and exclaimed, “Oh, look over there, James. Pippa and Paul have hired a trio. That’s something new.”

  “It is, yes, and I rather like it,” James answered, noticing that the three men were dressed in Russian clothes, wearing high-necked white silk shirts with full sleeves, baggy black pants sashed in red silk at the waist. He recognized one of the instruments. It was the balalaika, which sounded like a mandolin. The two other men were each playing violins. “It makes for a jolly mood,” James said. “I think they’re a clever couple, inventive. The Tamara will soon grow in popularity.”

  “Yes, you’re right.” William took a sip of water and cleared his throat, and said in a low voice, “I want you to understand my father means what he says. He’ll cut Albert off without a penny and not think twice about it. You see, neither of my parents like Albert.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. He’s obviously an irritation. Certainly he brings everything on himself. He can’t blame anyone else.”

  “Too true. He’s not like us at all.”

  “So I’ve noticed. I think the whole world has noticed,” James murmured. “He bumbles around like he’s half asleep or half drunk most of the time.”

  William chuckled, and suddenly confided, “I was once dozing in the library. I must have been about fourteen at the time. Your grandmother Esther came in with my mother. They didn’t notice me, because I was in a big wing chair, and they went and sat on the sofa. Just like sisters do, they were gossiping about family. I heard my mother say something like, ‘God knows where Albert came from, Esther. I don’t. And I swear to you Clarence is his father.’

  “Esther said, ‘He looks like a Venables. In fact, he resembles his father, even if he doesn’t have his father’s wit and wisdom.’

  “Then Esther remarked that she wondered where you came from because you looked like a Falconer but were far too superior to really be one. My mother told her you were like a golden boy arrived from another planet. And they laughed and started speaking about something else. I had to stay put for ages until they finally left.”

  James chuckled. “That must have been a trial for you, because you’re very restless at times. And I realize your father means what he says. That’s one of the reasons he’s a brilliant businessman.”

  Their supper was served. As they ate the finely cooked food, they chatted about the barns out at Melton and how cooperative Colin had been, and touched on a variety of other things.

  At one moment, William paused, looked directly at James, and asked, “What are you planning on saying to Mrs. Ward tomorrow?”

  James looked reflective. “I think I must repeat exactly what your mother told me.”

  “Will you tell her my father i
s going to deal with Albert?”

  “Perhaps I should, don’t you think? To put her mind at ease.”

  William nodded and changed the subject.

  Thirty

  As they stood together on the doorstep of Mrs. Ward’s lovely old manor house, waiting for their knocking to be answered, James and William eyed each other nervously. They were both slightly apprehensive about meeting with her.

  A moment later the door was opened by Mrs. Mulvaney. The housekeeper greeted them warmly and with her usual politeness. “Good morning, Mr. Falconer, Mr. Venables.”

  James said, “Mrs. Ward is not expecting us, Mrs. Mulvaney, so I hope she is available. We do have to speak to her about something rather urgently. It is quite important.”

  “I’m sure she will be happy to receive you both,” Mrs. Mulvaney replied, opening the door wider, bringing them into the entrance hall.

  “Excuse me for a moment. I shall go and let her know you are here.”

  This wasn’t necessary, because Georgiana Ward had heard their voices and was coming out of the library into the hall, a ready smile on her face.

  “James, William, good morning! How nice to see you both.”

  As she walked toward them, James couldn’t help thinking how lovely she looked. She was simply dressed in a white blouse with a high neckline, puffy mutton-chop shoulders, and long, tight sleeves. It was worn with a long burgundy skirt cinched at the waist with a black belt. Her raven hair was upswept, her violet eyes sparkling.

  He stepped forward, took her hand. “Good morning. I’m sorry we’ve arrived unexpectedly, but we have an important matter to discuss with you.”

  “There is no problem whatsoever,” she answered, turned to William and shook his outstretched hand. He, too, greeted her warmly. There was an expression of surprise and admiration in his eyes. She looked younger than her age, he thought.

 

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