Mr. Fairclough's Inherited Bride

by Georgie Lee

  She’d found peace in Silas’s arms last night, but now she was wary. In America, she’d been given the chance to reinvent herself. Then, before she’d really embraced the opportunity, she’d been pulled back to England. Despite his assurances that his mother was reserved with everyone that came to the Foundation, she still couldn’t help but think that she wasn’t pleased with her new daughter-in-law. She wanted her mother-in-law to like her or at least be happy that Silas was married and not recoil from her the way her own family had done. Silas might dismiss her aloofness, but if it continued, the unease that had troubled Silas when they’d first come up to this room after dinner would plague him again, only this time she would be to blame for it.

  He’d blame her even more if her past spread out to harm his sisters or the Foundation. His sister was the Marchioness of Falconmore. Mary couldn’t remember if her parents had any connection to the Falconmores, but if they did they wouldn’t appreciate having this old skeleton from the family closet reappearing at a ball any more than Lord Falconmore was likely to enjoy discovering that he was now related by marriage to a notorious woman. Lord Falconmore must have heard about her and what had happened. It would make things difficult for Silas’s sister, too. A woman of her simple background must already be struggling against the prejudices of the aristocracy to settle into her new role. It would become a great deal harder for her if everyone looked askance at her because of her fallen sister-in-law.

  No, I won’t let that happen.

  She had to make sure that Silas and his family didn’t pay the price for her past mistakes or have their reputation and that of the Foundation’s tarnished because of her. They, like all charitable foundations, relied on wealthy donors to keep them going. If they tied themselves to a woman like her, those donors might take their funds elsewhere. Silas was here to help his family in a time of need, she didn’t wish to create more need for them or to ruin their chances for patrons the way she’d ruined her brother’s marriage prospects. Silas might be able to ignore her past when it was just the two of them, but if it hurt his sisters or mother it might cost her the affection and concern of a man she’d grown to care a great deal about in so short an amount of time.

  She watched Silas sleep peacefully beside her, his strong profile highlighted by the glowing coals in the fireplace. She might have approached this marriage with no intention of losing her heart to him, but the more time that went by, the more she realised that not falling for him was impossible. He was too good a man to remain distant from, too caring and concerned about her for her to wall off her heart from him. Not since Ruth had anyone tried to build her up or encourage her to think more of herself than society wanted her to the way he did. He helped her believe in their future together and it was one she wanted to share with him more than she had wanted almost anything else in a long time. She couldn’t lose it and him. She would have to devise some reason why she couldn’t go to Millie’s wedding ball, one that didn’t make her look like a coward and one that Silas couldn’t dismiss with his usual optimism. She’d also have to think of some way to avoid meeting Lord Falconmore. It would involve lying to Silas and his family by making up mysterious illnesses that kept her in bed while they dined downstairs, but it must be done. For the first time since she’d seen Silas on the dock in Liverpool, she questioned Richard’s wisdom in sending her here. Richard had been gone from England for too long and had forgotten how it really was here, that the principles that made America a land of opportunity did not exist in aristocratic London. She hadn’t forgotten. She never could.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Good morning, Mr Edwards,’ Silas greeted when he entered his small office at the back of the Foundation that sat adjacent to the Fairclough home. A door connected the two buildings, helping to maintain some distance between Silas’s family’s work and their personal lives. Silas had risen early, determined to address the issue of the ledger and missing money before his mother could object.

  Mr Edwards set down his pen, closed the ledger and rose to greet Silas. ‘Good morning, Mr Fairclough. You’re up early.’ Despite his smile, he eyed Silas as if he were a dog unsure whether or not to accept a treat from a stranger.

  ‘I’m always up early, as my mother assured me you are, too.’ She’d been very careful at dinner to tell Silas how conscientious a man Mr Edwards was when it came to Foundation affairs, still more worried about losing Mr Edwards than losing Silas’s money.

  ‘I find myself most productive in the quiet hours of the morning before the many interruptions that tend to come throughout the day.’ Mr Edwards tugged at his shirt cuffs and Silas noted the fine gold cufflinks holding them closed. They matched the gold chain and pocket watch dangling from his well-cut waistcoat. Not only did the man like to rise early, but he liked to be well turned out. Mr Edwards noticed Silas studying his cufflinks. ‘They were my father’s. He was a man of money, but he lost it in a bad business venture. The cottage we had in the country was sold and we were forced to come to London. Sadly, my father found gin before he found work, leaving it to me to support my mother. These and a few other trinkets are all that’s left, the only things my mother hid so my father couldn’t sell them. As you know, it’s difficult to live in London without money, to hover just above the penury that’s merely a street from here, knowing that you’re only one misfortune away from sinking in to it.’

  ‘Of that I am all too familiar.’

  ‘Thankfully, my mother is no longer here to see me brought so low once again. If it wasn’t for Mrs Fairclough hiring me, I would have faced ruin after my last employer fled to France to avoid paying his outstanding bills, including my wages.’

  ‘She is very generous to those in need.’ Not so much to Silas who’d made as many mistakes as most of the people here and was just as in need of her forgiveness and understanding.

  ‘I hope to get away from all of this misery some day, to return to the country where it’s peaceful and beautiful. I miss it.’

  Silas recognised the manager’s dream. It was the yearning for a different life that had driven Silas to America, and the reason he was here this morning, to ensure his mother never slipped into the poverty surrounding them, the one she’d helped so many avoid. ‘I’d like to see the ledgers you’ve kept for the last six months and for you to help me understand the expenses and revenue.’

  ‘You can’t possibly believe that I’m involved in the missing money?’ Mr Edwards asked as horrified as he’d been last night when Silas had mentioned the trust.

  ‘Of course not, I simply want to understand how things are run,’ Silas lied through a pang of guilt. His mother was no fool and he doubted that a man Septimus had recommended, and who worked closely with his mother every day, could be deceiving them. This should be enough to ease Silas’s worries, but it wasn’t and wouldn’t be until he got to the bottom of the matter. He wanted to make sure that there were no discrepancies in the ledgers, nothing to indicate that the money hadn’t merely gone missing, but had been pilfered.

  ‘Of course,’ Mr Edwards agreed but before he could open the ledger, the swish of a woman’s skirt and the firm notes of Silas’s mother’s voice sounded in the room.

  ‘Silas, might I have a word with you?’ Silas’s mother stood in the office doorway, having surprised him like she used to do whenever Silas and his sisters would hide under the stairs to plot a raid on the kitchen.

  Silas tried not to grind his teeth as he followed his mother down the hallway to a small sitting room that was sparse and dark, the fire not having been lit yet to save money on coal. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘You know how it is for the people who come here, the difficulties and prejudices they’ve endured and the second chance we offer free of judgement.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Mr Edwards is one of those people and I won’t have you casting aspersions on him by questioning him about the accounts. I ask you to begin your investigation els
ewhere—the bank, perhaps.’

  ‘I will, as soon as possible, but as it’s a bank holiday, I can’t do it today. In the meantime, I wish to start here.’

  ‘This is your home, Silas, and you are always welcome here, but the Foundation isn’t your railroad.’ She didn’t snap at him, that wasn’t her way, but she was as firm and direct with him as he was with the men he sometimes had to let go.

  ‘It is my money and I want to know where it went.’

  His mother took a deep breath, settling herself the way she used to do whenever he or his sisters failed to see reason in any argument. Silas and Lottie had received far more of those looks than Millie ever had. ‘I understand your concern, but you must remember your place. You cannot appear unannounced and interfere with the running of the Foundation.’

  ‘There was a time when the only thing you wanted from me was my involvement in the Foundation,’ he snapped. This wasn’t how he wished to approach the situation. He would prefer to handle it with a cool head and even temper as he would any problem with the Baltimore Southern. In front of his mother it seemed he could do neither.

  ‘It was, but you made your decision and we both must live with it, even now.’

  Silas pressed his fists to his hips, feeling more like the fifteen-year-old boy who’d tried and failed to make his mother see reason when it came to his desire to work with the railroads, leaving him no choice but to sneak away. She refused to see why he needed to get involved in the Foundation’s affairs after years of avoiding it, but he was hesitant to press too hard, afraid the argument that had been delayed by the Atlantic Ocean and a number of years would rear its ugly head. It wasn’t a discussion he wished to have at any time, much less the morning after his arrival. ‘Then may I have your permission to review the ledgers?’

  His mother touched the back of her hair, adjusting the pin holding the chignon tight. He remembered that gesture well from his childhood, it was the one she’d done whenever something someone said or did troubled her deeply, the one that occurred before the end of any disagreeable conversation. ‘You’ve had a long journey and been greeted with so many changes since you stepped through the door. We can discuss this further in a few days when you are better rested and we are at less of a risk of saying things we may regret.’

  He didn’t press the matter because she was right. He’d come home out of concern and love for his family. He didn’t wish to misspeak and drive a wedge between them more than his having gone to America had already done. This time he wanted to leave with happy memories instead of conflict and regret. ‘All right, we’ll deal with this at another time. If you’ll excuse me.’

  Silas stepped past his mother, but her voice made him stop at the door.

  ‘I am happy to see you, Silas. We’ve missed you very much.’

  The words were heartfelt and they cut Silas deeper than any of her criticism or resistance to his investigation could have. He’d been a coward to leave without telling her or his sisters—to walk away from them the way Mary’s faithless lover had walked away from her—leaving them in doubt of the true depths of his concern, but he’d felt so trapped here in England, suffocated by the inability to act and do and strive for everything he’d wanted, and by the regret of never having made peace with his father.

  ‘I’m glad to be here.’ And he was, even while he longed for America.

  * * *

  Mary finished the last of her breakfast, having come downstairs shortly after Silas had risen. Despite his efforts to dress quietly and not disturb her, his agitated movements and the soft but steady pacing around the room as he’d gathered his things had woken her. She’d come downstairs, ready to assist him. Judging by the tight line of his lips, he did need her.

  ‘Is everything well?’ She wondered if he’d discovered some discrepancy in the accounts already.

  ‘My mother and I did not see eye to eye on my need to review the ledgers.’

  ‘Perhaps after some time to think about it she’ll change her mind.’

  ‘We’ll see. My mother can be a very stubborn woman.’ He opened his arms to the room. ‘One has to be to run a place like this.’

  Mary came around the table and adjusted his cravat. ‘I think you inherited it from her, along with her persistence.’

  ‘In Baltimore I would have said that was a good thing, but not here.’

  ‘Surely Mr Edwards isn’t in the office all the time, nor is your mother,’ she suggested, looking up at him through her lashes.

  Silas huffed. ‘My mother has that instinct that all mothers have for knowing when their children are up to something,’

  ‘My mother never had that instinct.’ If she had, maybe she would have noticed all the nights Mary had slipped out of Foxcomb Hall or the mornings when she’d been more tired than after a ball. It was difficult for a mother to be attentive when her rooms were half a mile away in a whole different wing of the house. If it hadn’t been for her lady’s maid and the other servants, Mary could have expired in her rooms and no one would have found her body for days.

  ‘Mine excels in it.’

  ‘Even when she’s asleep?’ Mary asked with a touch of mischief that made Silas tilt his head at her. If there was one thing her misguided time with Preston had taught her it was how to sneak about and not get caught. Her pride in this sad accomplishment threatened to vanish. If she had been caught, then everything would have been different. Although with Silas looking at her like the devil for being so clever she was glad things had worked out as they had.

  He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. ‘Are you suggesting we stay up late tonight for other reasons besides the marriage bed?’

  Mary didn’t blush at Silas’s bold statement. There was no reason to be coy with her husband. The lady’s magazines might suggest that husbands preferred wives who pretended at innocence, but Mary wasn’t about to play such games, especially with a man who had no need for them. ‘Perhaps we may engage in marriage-bed activities before a touch of light reading in Mr Edwards’s office, assuming he doesn’t sleep too close to his books.’

  ‘His bedroom is on the other side of the Foundation building, away from any temptation that might distract him from his figures.’

  ‘Figures are exactly what we’re interested in,’ she purred in his ear, her breath making the short hair at his temple ruffle. It would be far too many hours until they were alone together tonight.

  ‘Indeed, we are.’ He nuzzled her neck, raising a chill along her spine.

  She tilted her head back to enjoy the heat of his lips as he trailed soft kisses along her cheeks before claiming her mouth. To indulge in something this wicked which was no longer wicked was heaven. It was the one thing about the many sins she’d made all those years ago—she’d enjoyed it, until she hadn’t. She pushed the thought aside, opening her mouth to accept Silas’s tongue, her fingers tightening on Silas’s firm arm through his fine coat. There was no sin in enjoying this.

  The clank of a coal bucket in the sitting room as the maid attended to the fireplace made them jump apart.

  ‘Until tonight,’ Silas said with some regret, but more of the enthusiasm that Mary had come to cherish. ‘It’s our first full day in London, what shall we do?’

  ‘I thought you were going to visit Mr Williams about the engine.’

  ‘Not until this afternoon. This morning, I want to get out and see the sights.’

  ‘Then let’s go.’

  * * *

  The hack rolled to a stop in a section of London Mary didn’t recognise. There was so much of the city she’d failed to see when she’d lived here, her entire world circumscribed by the rules of the Season and the invisible boundaries of polite society. All around them surged a tide of people and the usual noises of a London street, the clop of horses’ hooves and the creaking of carriage wheels, the calling of hawkers and people to one another as
they went about their business. Beneath the cacophony was the steady thump of something large and mechanical from somewhere up ahead. Beneath it was the familiar whoosh and hiss of what sounded like one of the steam engines of Silas and Richard’s Baltimore Southern Railway.

  ‘You’ll see.’ Silas led her through the crowd towards the noise, his gloved hand holding on tight to hers, unwilling to lose her in the crush. They stopped at a wrought-iron railing protecting them from the large hole in the ground. There were numerous other people pressed up against it and looking down into the earth, including ragamuffin street children standing beside finely dressed gentleman. Mary looked fast at the men in their smartly tailored suits and top hats, terrified they might be someone she’d once known. She couldn’t imagine an aristocrat sullying his boots with mud from this part of town, but the wonder in the ground before them might be tempting enough for one or two of them to venture a little further than Hyde Park. The chances it would be this early in the morning weren’t likely. Those in town at this time of year must still be in bed sleeping off their night at White’s or some other less reputable club. Still, the panic that had seized her left her tired when it dissipated. This wasn’t how she wanted to live, constantly afraid that every well-dressed man who walked by might be someone she’d known or that each woman who turned to reveal the face inside the fashionable bonnet might sneer at her. It made her wish she didn’t have to leave Silas’s family’s house, but even there she wasn’t safe. Eventually, Silas’s sister Millie would show up with her husband and then the real trouble would begin.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Silas wrapped his arm around her waist. His ability to notice her moods before she could say anything had been endearing in Baltimore, but at this moment was most inconvenient.