Emeralds & Ashes

by Leila Rasheed

That was exactly the thought that had been in Georgiana’s mind, but she would not have dared to express it to Francis’s face. He was, after all, the Earl of Westlake, and it was as good as questioning his word as a gentleman. Even so, she was hugely relieved that her sister had voiced the unspeakable. There was something to be said for her education after all, she thought.

  “I am not surprised at your reaction, Lady Ada,” Francis said, forcing a smile. “I will, of course, have my lawyer come to see Mr. Bradford with the document as soon as possible.”

  “No, don’t do that,” said Ada coolly. “Mr. Bradford is a very good man, but as I’m sure you are aware, he is a mere country solicitor. I would prefer you to have the document sent to my lawyer—Mr. Connor Kearney. You may have heard of him.”

  The expression on Francis’s face showed Georgiana that he had. Her relief and gratitude to Ada grew. Surely this was all a horrible mistake, but it was important to get things clear and settled. Somerton could not be given away to a stranger without some legal scrutiny.

  “Of course,” he said, fumbling a bow. “I had not realized you were acquainted—of course I have heard his reputation—”

  “Yes, he is an excellent lawyer, and I am sure he will be able to find out exactly what the situation is,” Ada replied with a smile that was dazzlingly insincere.

  There was an awkward silence. Georgiana racked her brains for some way to get them all away from each other without appearing rude. Michael saved the day. “Oh dear, is that rain?” He put his hand out and looked at the sky with such an innocently concerned expression that despite everything, Georgiana had to bite back a laugh.

  “I feel it too,” she joined in, playing along. She turned to Thomas, who came up at once with the umbrellas. Thomas spread one over Michael and the countess’s bath chair, and handed another to Francis. He took it and at once stepped forward gallantly to spread it over Ada and Georgiana.

  “Thank you, Mr. Wyndham, but I am quite capable of carrying my own umbrella,” Ada said with a faint smile.

  “Yes, but please do indulge me.” He fell into step next to Georgiana, speaking over her head to Ada—both were taller than her. Georgiana raised her skirts to keep them from getting damp, noting enviously that Ada’s more modernly cut dress did not trail so badly in the grass. “I understand that you have just taken examinations. You must be relieved that they are over.”

  “I shall be relieved when I see that I have passed them, and passed them well,” Ada said coldly.

  “Ah, indeed…indeed.” Georgiana could see that Captain Wyndham was seeking for some other way to engineer a polite conversation, since Ada was clearly not prepared to discuss her studies. Glancing around him, he went on:

  “Perhaps you could tell me the name of that little copse—it does look charming, set between the two slopes there.”

  “I forget. I expect it will be in the inventory when Mr. Bradford goes through the list of your property.”

  “Ahem—quite.” Captain Wyndham was silent for a moment, then tried again. “I notice the stone here has a very charming golden shade; Palesbury Minster quite glows in the sunlight. Do you know its composition?”

  “I am afraid not.”

  “Ah, because I thought perhaps it was partly mica—”

  “I really could not tell you, but I expect you will be able to find a guidebook to the area in the bookseller in Palesbury when you return home tomorrow.”

  “Oh, Captain Wyndham must stay a week, as we had planned!” Georgiana exclaimed, wincing at the hurt expression on Captain Wyndham’s face. After all, an honest mistake by the lawyer—she could not imagine any other explanation—was hardly his fault.

  “That is very kind of you to say, Lady Georgiana.” He looked at her with gratitude in his soft brown eyes.

  “It is up to you, of course, Georgie,” Ada said carelessly.

  They went on without speaking for some time. Georgiana wished she could think of something to say, but the whole situation was too horribly awkward. Ada would twist anything that Captain Wyndham said, and she really could not think of two words to put together—the extraordinary news had robbed her of all ideas. They went on in silence until they were nearly at the house, when Captain Wyndham spoke. He addressed himself over Georgiana’s head, to Ada. “Lady Ada, I feel we have begun on such an awkward footing, and I would like to make amends.”

  “For what, Captain Wyndham? If what you say is true, you are simply the unwitting beneficiary of Fate—as we are its victims.”

  “Fate,” said Francis desperately. “There is so much of that in wartime.”

  “So much everywhere. It is in the nature of Fate.” Ada was being curt, and Georgiana wished she could think of something witty to say that would break the tension of the conversation.

  “Ah—ha-ha. Yes, of course. I meant to say…don’t you feel that Fate really does rule all our destinies? Whether we win, or whether we lose.”

  “Perhaps,” said Ada. She picked her pace up, as they reached the flatter ground, so that he had to trot to keep up with her. “But there is no reason to give up in the face of difficulty, Captain Wyndham. I personally find adversity quite invigorating.”

  She looked back at him, her eyes clearly indicating her anger. They had reached the lawn, and Georgiana, half-dead with embarrassment for poor Captain Wyndham, who had only been trying to make the best of an awkward situation, scampered after her with a murmured excuse. She glanced back once as she followed her sister into the drawing room. She saw Captain Wyndham standing alone on the lawn, looking quite hangdog, under the broad umbrella’s wing. But her attention was caught by the countess. She had stood up from the bath chair…one of the few times she had been on her own feet since she had received the news of the earl’s death.

  “Mother, are you sure you are able—“Michael said, stepping forward to support her.

  “Quite able, dear. I would like to walk.” She stepped forward with surprising energy and passed Georgiana on the threshold. Georgiana, astonished to see her walking after so long, thought she looked as if she had renewed purpose and energy. And she thought she could guess what had caused it.

  It was a trying lunch for Ada. She sat, doing her best to hide her anger, opposite Captain Wyndham, as Rebecca and Thomas served the usual wartime fare: everything less than it had been before, and not as good. The spoons, too, were the second-best set, she noted. The whole house had a tired, anxious air to it—a sense that it was trying, and failing, to keep up with a past that had become a burden. She did not envy Georgiana, here day after day. But that did not mean she was prepared to let this impossible cad, this Francis Wyndham, steal their home from under their noses. Whoever should have the first child—and at this rate, it seemed likely to be anyone but her—she wanted her father’s will to be respected, not set aside.

  Finally lunch was over, and she got to her feet, hoping that she would have some time to speak to Georgiana and Michael alone before her train departed. Luckily, the countess—who had made a marvelous recovery, she noted—attached herself to Captain Wyndham’s arm.

  “I want to show you our rose garden,” she announced. “I expect you have someone special—someone you might want to take a few blooms to—”

  “I do not,” said Captain Wyndham clearly enough to be heard by the entire table. Ada clenched her fists; the man was simply impossible. Was he expecting a bride to come with the property? She went after Michael and Georgiana into the yellow drawing room and shut the door behind her.

  “Well!” was all she said, but it was expressed with feeling.

  “Do you mind if I smoke?” Michael asked, almost at the same moment.

  “Please do; I wish I did myself,” Georgiana sat down on the sofa, her hands clasped in her lap. “What a terrible upset! I can hardly bring myself to believe it.”

  “Whereas I shall not be making the effort,” said Ada firmly.

  Georgiana looked up. “You think his lawyer made a mistake?”

  Ada exchanged a
glance with Michael. Georgiana was kindhearted to a fault.

  “Yes, a mistake, or a downright lie,” Ada said. “You think the best of everyone, and I hope you are right, but I am more cynical, I’m afraid.”

  “Please don’t apologize for it,” Georgiana said with feeling. “I was so pleased when you said what I dared not. I—I am sorry, Ada. I thought you didn’t care about Somerton. But we would not have known what to do without you. Do you think Mr. Kearney will really be able to find out the truth?”

  “I haven’t the least doubt of it.” Ada spoke gently; she was touched by her sister’s words.

  “I simply can’t understand it,” Georgiana went on, still clearly trying to imagine a world in which Captain Wyndham was not a complete scoundrel. “How on earth can this document have slipped through the net? And can they enforce it now, after it has been in abeyance for so many centuries?”

  “Well, the estate has always passed directly down the line, so the entail has never in fact been asserted in all this time,” Ada said. Then, catching herself, she added, “If indeed he has clearly understood this document and is not simply wishing himself into an inheritance.”

  “I am as suspicious as you are,” said Michael, and then raised a warning hand. The countess’s voice could be heard: she was approaching down the corridor, and Francis, though silent, had to be presumed to be with her.

  “I must call Rebecca to help me with my luggage,” Ada said abruptly. In fact, she did not trust herself to be in the same room with Francis Wyndham a moment longer.

  “Oh, do stay, Ada, it will look so…” Georgiana pleaded.

  “Dear Georgie, I’ve long given up caring how I look.” Ada smiled. She placed a kiss on her sister’s cheek, shook Michael’s hand, and went out. Her apology to the countess was perfunctory, but she noticed that the countess seemed perfectly well and not at all distressed by her departure.

  After she had packed, she came downstairs, Rebecca following with her cases. She was surprised to see Francis in the front hall. The door was open, and Roderick had the motorcar ready, but she paused as Francis stepped out of the shadows to meet her. He was very smooth, she thought, looking him up and down. Very sure of himself.

  “Lady Ada,” he said, smiling. “I thought it was my duty to speak with you before you depart. I so dislike the idea of us being on unpleasant terms, especially when I have such an esteem for you…”

  Alarm bells rang in Ada’s mind. She waited.

  “I did not expect such an encounter, I must admit. I had been told that you were beautiful, but I did not expect the strength of character, the clarity of your intelligence, your passionate affection for your family and home…”

  He must be quite desperate to marry, thought Ada. He is actually attempting to flirt with me in the entrance hall. She was sure, then, that there was something unsound about the alleged entail. Why, otherwise, would he be so keen to ingratiate himself with her, if not to have another claim to the property should the first one fail? But the difficulty would be in proving it.

  “…has made such a strong impression on me. I really couldn’t bear it if I let you go away thinking ill of me.” He reached for her hand, and she let him take it. “I am so glad,” he murmured. “Your little fist should never be clenched in anger against me. I hope I will never do anything to deserve it…may I call you Ada?”

  Ada had heard enough.

  She said clearly, but in a low voice, “I can see exactly what you are doing, and I may as well tell you now that it is in vain. I am not interested in marriage.”

  He dropped her hand as if it were hot.

  “I know you will say you mentioned no such thing. Please don’t take me for a fool. I don’t take you for one. I take you for a clever man. But perhaps not a wise one.”

  She waited for him to speak; when he did not, she continued, making each word very clearly enunciated.

  “Lady Georgiana is no fool, either, but as I am sure you have noticed, she is tenderhearted. However, there is no danger of anyone taking advantage of her. I am extremely protective of my younger sister.”

  “I—”

  “Please, there is no need to say anything. I merely wish you to understand that—and to understand that I will investigate your claim of an entail thoroughly. I shall be back at Somerton soon enough, and I hope that you will find your stay here…relaxing.”

  She walked past him, knowing that he would find it no such thing. She knew he was watching her as she stepped into the motorcar and settled her veil against the glare and the dust. He was a dangerous man; she believed it, but had no proof. She hoped that her warning would induce him to leave Georgiana alone, and Michael, she was sure, would be as good as a guard dog. The engine roared into life, and she was carried away down the drive, toward the railway station, her veil fluttering in the wind. She could not wait to tell Connor what had happened.

  Georgiana sat looking at the accounts, in the ledger that had been started by Mrs. Cliffe. Her elegant handwriting filled most of the book, and gave way only for a few pages to Mrs. McRory’s spiky scribble; then Georgiana’s own nervous hand took it up. Georgiana’s head quite hurt with trying to make the numbers add up. It was almost impossible to see how they would be able to maintain Somerton in the way they had before the war. And that would mean putting people out of work, in such a difficult time for everyone. Her own inheritance was not in her control until she was eighteen, or, she thought, she would have spent it on this.

  A steady housekeeper with a commitment to Somerton, and a sensible approach to budgeting, was exactly what she needed, she thought. But where was one to be found? She had not forgotten Mrs. Cliffe’s advice, but the trouble was she was not sure what her instincts said to her. If it were not for Rebecca, she thought, things would be even more difficult.

  She put down her pen, on impulse, and decided to go downstairs and find Rebecca. If anyone would see how to make the accounts make sense, it was her.

  She glanced from the window before she went down. The countess was strolling amicably with Captain Wyndham on the lawns. Georgiana was glad of it; it saved her making an effort to be at ease with him.

  She went downstairs and into the kitchen. It was the afternoon, and she expected to find the servants resting, perhaps doing some mending. As she walked along the corridor, she heard voices from the kitchen. She did not recognize the man who was speaking, and then remembered: Of course. Francis’s valet.

  “…The truth is, Lady Ada’s not the match he thought she would be.” The man sounded malicious.

  “Go on with you! What about her money?” That was Annie.

  Georgiana colored suddenly, and sped up her pace. The man had to be stopped from gossiping about her family. But his next words stopped her in her tracks.

  “What money? She’s given it all away, hasn’t she?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I say. Friend of mine’s a footman in London, and a few months back he hears that Sir William—the Earl of Westlake as was, that went down in the Europa—is hiring. Well, no one expects him to pay, but it turns out that he does pay, and seems to be pretty flush as well. So my friend asks around, and what do you think? Lady Ada’s only paid him over her inheritance to get him to leave off his claims on Somerton. So she’s got no dowry. And since Sir William died intestate, the whole lot goes to the Crown.” There was an audible slurp of tea. “And my friend’s glad now he didn’t go for the earl’s cash! He’d have found a watery grave on the Europa along with his master.”

  Georgiana had heard enough. She stood where she was, her breath coming fast. So Ada had given up her inheritance for her family, for Somerton. She had never imagined; she had thought that William had simply been frightened off by Connor Kearney. She found tears in her eyes, but they were not of sorrow, but of pride.

  She turned and went back upstairs without making her presence known. She had not left Somerton since her father’s funeral, but she knew now that she had to go to Oxford.

>   Oxford

  Ada walked up the hall toward the notice board where the examination results were posted. Her heart thumped uncomfortably, and she felt sick with anxiety. She had purposefully waited until the first scrum of students had departed—some throwing their caps high in celebration, others slouching away with hunched shoulders that told quite a different story—so that she would not be bothered by the male students, who too often seemed to resent the women in their midst.

  Finally she was here, and she could no longer put off the moment of truth. She looked up at the list. There were the names of two of the best of the male scholars, and below them…

  “Are you proud?” She turned to see Connor smiling at her. She had not noticed him in the shadows. “Because I am proud of you—very.”

  “I’m third in the year!” she said, hardly believing it. “Third!”

  “And if your year had not been so disrupted, I am sure you would have been first,” he said.

  She smiled up at him with tears in her eyes. He touched her cheek and brushed the tear away. She blushed under his touch; it was so intimate. There was something so pleasurable in this uncomplicated, tender relationship. He was not Ravi. But he was exactly what she needed right now.

  “You are a marvel,” he said softly.

  They walked together through the empty hall, toward the exit and the sunshine.

  “How will you celebrate?” he asked her.

  “With my sister. She has written that she wants to visit me—I expect her today and will meet her from the train.”

  “That pleases me very much.”

  “And you? How will you be spending today?”

  His smile died. “Writing a good deal of letters in support of a friend of mine, who is falsely accused of buying guns from the Germans to aid Roger Casement’s revolt.”

  “I am sorry,” she said, shocked.

  “Yes, things are bad. I have been barred from giving more lectures.”

  “But why?”

  “There need be no reason, only fear and suspicion. I was never a member of the establishment, and everything about me is suspect, from my religion to my politics. I want an independent, united Ireland and I am not ashamed of that. But some of those who want the same are joining forces with the Germans and accepting arms from them. That makes all of us who are outspoken about our views potential traitors. Although how one can be a traitor to a flag one doesn’t recognize as one’s own, I do not know.”