Amberley Chronicles Boxset I: The Impostor Debutante My Last Marchioness the Sister Quest (Amberley Chronicles Boxsets Book 1) (3 page)

BOOK: Amberley Chronicles Boxset I: The Impostor Debutante My Last Marchioness the Sister Quest (Amberley Chronicles Boxsets Book 1)
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Chapter 7

 

As he drew up before the Mount Street residence the next afternoon, James told himself that surely his cousin was not as remarkable as he had at first thought. The afternoon’s outing would prove her to be a mortal with flaws, like everybody else, and he could stop thinking about her so much. For an experienced man-about-town, mooning after a girl - no matter how attractive - was simply not done.

To her credit, she did not keep him or his nervous greys waiting. The light blue dress and matching pelisse she wore were perfectly suitable, if not cut quite as well as London fashions.

After a short greeting, she easily climbed into the high-perched vehicle without betraying the slightest alarm at the distance from the ground. Not every lady could do so, James had reason to know.

“These horses look able to take us all the way to Oxford, at least,” she remarked as they set off. “Is it not a waste to use them here in the city traffic?”

“Well, it would be even more of a waste to just let them stand around in the stables,” he pointed out. ”They only get to travel further afield when I do so myself.”

“And is that often?”

“It depends on the season. When summer arrives, about the end of June, I go to Amberley Park, or visit friends, and sometimes I stay at my own estate in Devon. I haven’t made fixed plans yet for this year. Because of George’s wedding, everything else could wait…. But I daresay we will all soon remove to Amberley for a few weeks at least.”

“Oh.” She did not seem pleased at the prospect. “I need to settle some things here in the city before I can go off to the countryside.”

“Of what nature?”

“My only reason for accepting your mother’s invitation was to find out why the solicitor handling my father’s estate has not been responding to any letters for more than six months. We have no access to the capital in the bank, and it is badly needed for Brinkley Manor, our estate. We had instituted some costly reforms, which are now stalled. The wages, the seeds – I have been getting quite desperate to receive my inheritance, or at least my mother’s jointure, to keep the estate running.”

“When you say ‘we’, who do you mean?”

“Umm – well - the whole household. I am not worried only for myself. Several families’ livelihood depends on a solution to this problem.”

“You are your father’s sole heiress? Isn’t the estate entailed?” That was the usual custom, although it could vary from family to family.

“I don’t believe so, but if it is, then no new heir has appeared so far to take on the responsibility.”

Maybe the unknown heir did not know of his good fortune yet, James reflected. “Did your father leave a will?”

“Yes, he mentioned once that his solicitor had it. His fortune was always supposed to be considerable, and his lifestyle was lavish – not that we saw much of him. If he did not gamble it away, I suppose it would come to me. You see how frustrating it is to know so little about my own concerns. I do know that I am entitled to the money my mother left in trust for me, but have not seen a penny of it so far.”

James mulled this over for a minute. It all sounded rather strange and convoluted. “Amberley – George – is the one in our family to sort out that sort of thing, usually.”

“Well, Amberley is not here. But please forgive me for bothering you with my concerns, I realise that a young man like you prefers not to be distracted from his usual amusements and pastimes.”

James flushed. “In other words, I’m too shallow and inexperienced to help you?”

“I would never say anything so rude.” His cousin sighed softly. “Let’s talk of the cathedral instead. How often have you been there yourself?”

Though he replied to her question with every appearance of calm, James seethed inwardly as he drove on. It was true he had been trying to fob off her legal problems onto his absent older brother, who had experience with that sort of thing. George also had a close working relationship with their own family’s excellent solicitor, who could presumably be useful in untangling Belinda’s affairs.

Yet James was also of age, master of his own small estate and fortune, and no more stupid than George. Or at least so he had always believed. Could it be that his position as younger son was limiting him in his ability and willingness to cope with problems? No, dash it. It was the responsibility of the head of the family to deal with them. It had always been so. So why did he suddenly feel inadequate? James’s anger turned on the woman sitting so close by his side. He would show her that he could not be mocked with impunity.

He retreated into a freezing politeness, which carried them all the way to the Cathedral. The girl’s cheerful refusal to notice that anything was amiss was an additional annoyance. James nearly kicked at a kerbstone when he handed his infuriating passenger out of the Phaeton. Only the fear of marring the high gloss of his expensive Hessians deterred him.

His dudgeon lasted all of thirty minutes. Inside the cathedral James could not help being affected by the grandeur of the architecture, the ancient tombs, and the presence of silent worshippers. In this place, his annoyance with his cousin felt petty and unworthy.

As they walked around the large building, listening to their guide’s explanation of the historic monuments, James took a decision. 

She had challenged him; very well, he would rise to the challenge, and prove once and for all that he was just as capable as George when it came to sorting out problems. True, he had no experience with legal issues, but everyone had to start at some point, didn’t they? This sort of knowledge was bound to come in handy at some point in the future.

And had he not been rather bored lately, with the endless round of entertainment, boxing, gambling, betting and visits to his tailor?

On their way back to Mount Street, he told her gruffly, “I have given some thought to your legal problems, and I am at your service in trying to untangle them. What is the name and direction of this solicitor?”

He received a dazzling smile in reward.

“Phimes and Folliott, of 24 Baker Street. A Mr. Phimes wrote after father’s sudden death, but we – I – have not heard anything further, and four letters have gone unanswered in the last ten months.”

“What about your father’s bank?”

“I know that his main account was with Coutts’ bank, but we have not heard from them either. The quarterly payments of my allowance have also ceased with father’s death, over a year and a half ago.”

James was horrified. A life without a regular income seemed the extreme of hardship to him. “How did you manage to survive at all?”

“There was some income from the estate, though the last harvest was disappointing, and I sold all my jewels to a reputable jeweller in York. But there are none left worth selling at this point, and the very cold weather this year makes me fear that the harvest will be even worse. I bought no new clothes or hats, and we tried to live as much as possible on our own farm produce and animals.”

“I see.”

“I had thought of travelling to London before, but without knowing anyone here, I was not sure if I could obtain co-operation from the solicitors. They may have embezzled the money, relying on the fact that the only heiress lives far away in Yorkshire.”

James shook his head. “That seems unlikely to me. Yorkshire is not the end of the world, after all, and if the slightest doubt of their probity arises, a solicitor’s firm would be ruined. I should think that happens very rarely. What were you planning to do here in London?”

“Well, I would like to obtain some information about the firm in general, from a trustworthy source, before going to their office and demanding answers. I could use an escort for that. You wouldn’t need to do anything at all except look big and privileged, so they can’t easily fob me off.”

“That shouldn’t be difficult,” James said. “Privileged, hmm? That is how you see me?”

“That is how everybody sees you, except the tiny percentage of people even better off, like your brother George.”

“Oh, really?”

She was not cowed by his sarcastic tone. “Really. You have everything that most people desire, without any need to make an effort. Unlike the girls of your own class, you don’t even need to look around for a spouse as soon as you reach eighteen. You can marry or not, as you please.”

“I’m not sure my mother would agree with you.”

“But whatever she wants, she cannot
force
you. You have never in your life wanted for food, or clothes, or shelter, have you? The problems of common men and women do not touch or concern you. You are as the flowers on the field, nice to look at, and mainly decorative.”

James decided not to take offence. “Nice to look at? You think so?”

Was that a faint blush on her cheek? He needed to keep his eyes on the traffic, so could only give her a quick side glance.

“You must know that you are a very attractive man.”

“Thank you,” James said, pretending to be deeply touched by her encomium. “Some people seem to think so.”

“And what is most unfair, you don’t even need to be. If you were a little overweight, a foot shorter, and squinted, nobody would care.”

“Now there you are far out,” James cheerfully contradicted her. “My tailor and valet would be devastated. Anyway, you yourself are a good-looking girl. Why this concern over my, or anybody’s, looks?”

“I know I look all right, but it has done me precious little good,” she said matter-of-factly.

“It will do so now. My mother will have you married off within three months, if I’m any judge of the matter.”

“I don’t think so.” She seemed surprisingly certain.

“You are not one of those females, ah, who don’t find men of interest in general?”

“Are there such -? No, I’m as liable to be impressed by broad shoulders and a handsome face as any other woman.”

“I’m glad to hear it, especially after you’ve just told me that I am attractive.” He smiled briefly down at her.

“You are my cousin – it is not supposed to matter.”

“A cousin you have never met before yesterday. In fact, I don’t feel very cousinly towards you, Belinda.”

At the name, she seemed to shiver momentarily.

“Then it is a good thing we are nearly arrived in Mount Street, and can take our leave of each other.”

“I will make some enquiries about your solicitors through our own, and tell you what I learn,” James promised, as he handed her down from the high perch. Under the pelisse and gloves, she was soft and warm and altogether delicious. It was a struggle to keep his mind on business.

“When I next take you out, we can tell Mother that we are going to the tower; and visit your solicitor on the way.”

“Thank you, James.”

“It is a pleasure, Cousin Belinda.” He doffed his hat at her as she turned and entered the house; a footman opened the door as soon as they arrived, and immediately closed it upon her back, leaving James still staring at the door.

James was deep in thought as he drove off. What had he got involved in? Was it wise to flirt with his cousin, when he really longed to press kisses on her soft neck and lips? Well, he had resisted temptation before, though it had rarely been this strong. Belinda needed a friend and ally, not a lover; so that was what he would be for her.

A small voice inside him insisted, however, that he was just fooling himself.

Chapter 8

 

Mr. Roberts, the senior partner of the family solicitors, had readily agreed to meet with James Ellsworthy, but he felt apprehensive about the appointment. This was the first time he was to see James, who had still been a minor at the time of his father’s death, and he had a shrewd idea that he might have to explain that gambling or other debts could only be covered after authorisation by the absent Earl. These younger sons were usually a drain on a noble family’s resources, although, to be fair, he had not yet noted any particularly costly vices in young James. He hoped it was not a case of breach of promise; those always were particularly messy.

He was pleasantly surprised, therefore, when his visitor explained that he was merely seeking information on another solicitor’s background.

“Phimes and Ffolliott? Yes, the name rings a bell, but I am not really familiar with them. They cannot have been all that active lately. Let me think for a moment….There was a Phimes who was from my father’s generation, who surely must be beyond active work by now, but I have never heard of a Ffolliott in the same firm – not a name easily forgotten. Old Phimes was eminently respectable and trustworthy by reputation, as far as I can recall. Let me consult my clerk, he may know more.”

James assenting to this suggestion, Roberts called his clerk, and put the matter to him.

“The firm is an old one but has not as many clients as before, I imagine. The original Phimes was still active a year or so ago,” the clerk said. ”I remember seeing him in court briefing the barrister in the Chester case, and thinking that he was getting very old to be practicing. Maybe eighty? He moved with difficulty, but was still sharp as a tack. I never met any Ffolliott. There was supposed to be a younger Mr. Phimes, but I have not run across him.”

“Has there ever been any suggestion of impropriety, embezzlement, or anything of the kind about them?” James asked.

“No, indeed, and I’m certain that anything like that would come to our ears sooner or later. In fact, there has not been any recent information about their doings. Maybe the firm has closed down?”

James turned back to Roberts, as the clerk took his leave. “In that case, what would happen to their activities such as wills to be executed, beneficiaries to be informed, and so on?”

“They would have to be wound down or handed over to another firm in an orderly manner.”

“I see. Would you be willing to check into the matter for me? This firm was supposed to handle the estate of my late aunt’s husband, Sir Rudolph Yardley. My cousin, the likely heiress as his only child, has not heard from them in months, despite several letters she wrote.”

“That sounds most irregular. As long as she is not our client, we cannot do much, but we could certainly make some discreet enquiries about the firm’s status on your behalf.”

“If necessary, would you be willing to take my cousin on as a client?”

“Is Miss Yardley of age?”

“Yes. She probably won’t be able to pay you until she gets hold of her inheritance, though.”

“I think it is premature to discuss this eventuality until we find out more about the problem with her own firm, and ascertain the lady’s wishes,” Roberts said, evading a firm commitment. “I will send the information to your lodgings. 45 Albany, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

”You do not have any other legal issues of your own, by any chance?”

“Not at this time.”

“Then you are to be congratulated.” Roberts’s manner had thawed somewhat, now that no breach of promise case loomed in his immediate future. Maybe James was not quite as useless as most aristocratic younger sons, he found himself thinking as he ushered his visitor out.

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