Amberley Chronicles Boxset I: The Impostor Debutante My Last Marchioness the Sister Quest (Amberley Chronicles Boxsets Book 1) (48 page)

“I shall come with you,” Prudence said immediately. “This concerns me more than you, Mr. Durwent, though I thank you for the information you have provided.”

“I will come also,” Cherry declared. “My interest in the information is as urgent as yours.”

“I will send to Mrs. Bolston at once,” Lady Spalding offered, “asking for her assistance in untangling the family history, and announcing your visit tomorrow morning. We need more tea,” she realised, and rang the bell. “And none of you have eaten anything. Do so now, please, we have much more to discuss. Mr. Durwent, tell us more about your parents, family, and yourself. Whatever the outcome of your search, it is gratifying that the new owner of Lobbock Manor is a family connection. I gather you are in easy circumstances?”

Jonathan took a sip of the now tepid tea, cleared his throat, and set himself to satisfy his new-found family’s curiosity.

Chapter 22

“So, Mrs. Randolph,” Jonathan said after enduring more than an hour of relentless if friendly inquisition, “would you grant me an interview, to discuss our situation?”

“Yes, we have to talk,” Cherry replied, rising and putting her hand on his arm. “Let’s walk out in the gardens, since it is still light, and see if we can find a mutually acceptable way out.”

“Don’t stay outdoors too long,” Lady Spalding warned, “Mr. Durwent has just been ill, we would not want to overtax him.”

“No danger of that,” Jonathan said quickly. It was embarrassing how a short bout of fever made him appear almost an invalid here in Bellington. Would he ever live this first impression down?

They walked for minutes without saying a single word. He enjoyed having Cherry close, even as he told himself that she might be his sister. The ambiguity of their situation was tying his tongue in knots.

“This muddle is my fault,” Cherry said, before he could find the right words. “I am sorry I gave you a false name, and flirted with you, and kissed you, when you did not even know me.”

“I was just as much at fault. Since I believed you a married woman, I should never have kissed you either, and as I recall I made the first move. You confused me. We men like to know where we are with a woman – is she respectable or not, available or not? You were in no clear category, yet too attractive to simply keep my distance.”

“You will wonder why I donned that disguise. It is hard to explain my frame of mind in that ugly damp house, hiding for over a week already, while I waited for Prune to sell my jewels. With the proceeds I planned to disappear, and live in some remote spot under an assumed name.”

“I still don’t understand what exactly you were hiding from. My only wish is to relieve you of that threat, whatever it is.” Surely now that they were yoked together one way or the other, she could be open with him.

“It is an ugly tale,” she warned.

“I am sure I’ll have heard worse. Is it creditors you were hiding from?”

“Yes, but it’s more complicated than that.” They had reached the end of the path, and turned round, walking among the old-fashioned borders and a shallow pool with water lilies. The sun was very low, and there was a pink glow to the sky in the west. Jonathan said nothing, but indicated that he was listening attentively.

After a short hesitation she went on. “My husband, Max Randolph, was a wealthy wine merchant when we married right here in Bellington. I had met him at an assembly in Norwich, where he was visiting friends, and I was only nineteen. At first all went well. I enjoyed the diversions of the capital, he showered me with gifts and jewels, and we went out a great deal. Eventually there was a reversal – a ship that sank, and Max’s cargo was underinsured – by retrenching for a year or two, and selling my jewels, he could probably have come about. But instead he accepted a loan from an acquaintance, Mr. Buckley.”

“Why not from a bank? I suppose Buckley offered better terms. And somehow the debt still grew bigger than before, I suppose? Until there was no way out?” Such cases were frequent enough in the city. 

“Exactly. Not quite five months ago,” she said, with difficulty, “Max shot himself.”

“Suicide?” Jonathan stopped dead. “I did not realise … how could any man married to you put a period to his existence? The debts had become that overwhelming?”

“I had no idea how bad it was. We had been estranged for over a year by then. Buckley sent me a note advising me of the large debt right after Max’s death. I had to let the servants go, and was waiting for him to seize the house. Buckley let some time pass, pretending to sympathize, and even tried to sound consoling. But I knew to distrust him. Eventually he made it clear that he would prefer another form of payment.”

Jonathan’s anger rose, scalding in its heat. To harass a recent widow like that! “What a blackguard! Go on.”

“He sent men to watch the house and follow me each time I went to shop for food. My former friends and acquaintances, the ladies with whom I worked on charitable committees, all abandoned me after Max’s death. Oh, there were a few men who might have offered help, but on similar terms as Buckley himself; or perhaps they would have been too afraid of him to even try. When Max and I first met him, Buckley appeared just another businessman; but by last year his unsavoury reputation was widely established.”

“If only I had known you then,” Jonathan said, not hiding his anger, “I would have made short work of this man’s pretensions.” He suppressed, with difficulty, an overpowering urge to fold Cherry in his arms for a comforting hug. He was not sure he could have kept it brotherly.

“I used that red wig, and an old servant’s cloak, to slip out of a dressmaker’s back entrance, with my jewels sewn into my garments. I could not take any luggage, obviously. I had just enough money left to come here on the stage, but I expected Buckley and his men to track me down any moment.” Her expressive features mirrored the fear and anguish of that frightening journey.

“At least you had a family to come to. You were not quite alone in the world.”

“Yes, and they have been so good, even though none of them took my fears seriously. When I heard from Matt that there were strangers from London staying at the inn, I had to find out more. Sitting day after day in that abandoned house was driving me to distraction. When you asked after my family that first time we met, you confirmed all my fears.”

“You really suspected me of working for a man like that? That is rather insulting.”

“By the time we kissed, I had almost completely given up my suspicions,” Cherry said. “I found you attractive too, but I should not have done it. It was very wrong.”

“How could it be wrong if it felt so right?” he quoted. “Time will show if it was wrong. I trust it was not, but thank God we did not do anything irrevocable before learning about the possible impediment.”

“You were looking for a completely different kind of bride, admit it,” Cherry challenged. “Even if it turns out that Prune is your sister, as I devoutly hope, we cannot marry. There has to be a way out of this absurd engagement that was forced upon you when you were still half feverish.”

“Not so feverish that I didn’t realise what I was doing, when I asked you to marry me. I have not thanked you, have I, for coming to look after me when I was sick? I believe it was your willow bark tea, rather than the physician’s tincture, that helped me recover. Indeed, I may owe you my life.”

“Your fever was frighteningly intense,” Cherry admitted. “I feared for you, and prayed for you, though I had fallen out of the habit.”

“You were also forced into the engagement, and I did not fail to notice that you were most reluctant to agree,” Jonathan said. “Since you were not aware of our possible relationship, was the idea of marriage to me so repulsive?”

“Not repulsive at all, but if nothing else, my pride would not allow me to accept a man who had to be coerced into offering under such ridiculous circumstances. Considering my age and widowed status, Pell and Paul and Matt overdid the outrage, they were milking the scene for maximum effect. My fear is that they were motivated by the wish to see me suitably established.”

“If they were motivated by concern for you, surely that is not to their discredit.”

“It is very much to their discredit that they were prepared to sacrifice you without a qualm, at a time when you were sick and helpless.”

“Not such a terrible sacrifice as that. You said earlier that I had a different bride in mind. You are right; but consider that when I made my previous plans I had not yet met you.”

“Let me guess: you were planning to offer for a nubile, well-born maiden that would allow you to move in the first circles, and give you a number of children.”

Jonathan stared at her. “How do you know that? Do you read minds?”

“Come, Jonathan – I may still call you that? – I have been living in London for the last ten years. I know how the world works and what desires men like you have.”

“
Men like me
? That is the most insulting thing you’ve said yet. I am not a
man like me
, I am the one and only Jonathan Durwent. Let me explain what a man exactly like me wants out of life at this moment. To find proof that you are not my sister, to carry you off and make love to you, and to marry you.”

“I can understand the making love part,” Cherry said, “though we should postpone all discussion and even thought of it, until we know more. The marriage is the problem, since I am most likely infertile. You will want children to carry on your business, or at least your name.”

“True, but had I died of that fever the other night, I would still not have any children to leave my fortune to. Life is uncertain, and you may yet have children of your next husband, whether it is me or another. I have heard that infertility can also be the man’s fault.”

“If only it were so – I always wanted children, but had given up hope years ago.”

“At any rate, while I’m not giving up hope, I am willing to risk not having children, if I can have you instead. Besides, I already have a niece and nephew – five, if Prune should prove to be my sister.”

“Have you considered that my birth is quite unknown? I could come from the gutter.”

“Wherever you hail from, Cherry, you do them credit. With my money, the connections I already have established, and your charm, I expect we could worm our way into society if we tried. But I am coming to think it is not worth my while. I already had misgivings whenever I pictured my future wife and the style of life to which she would expect me to conform. To be lectured by puppies like this Lord Pell is not worth sacrificing my comfort and self-respect.”

“I feel like that also,” Cherry said. “What have these aristocrats ever done to deserve their exalted status? Merely to be born, as Figaro points out in his famous rant.”

“You like the theatre?”

“Very much.”

“We could take a box in Covent Garden. I am also fond of the stage, and I haven’t made the time to go in nearly a year. Which of Sheridan’s plays do you prefer?”

“The
Rehearsal
, though I also like the
School for Scandal
.”

“That is my own favourite. And your favourite Shakespeare play?”

“I love the comedies best, which is shallow of me, especially
As You Like It
.”

They walked among the rose bushes, comparing their tastes and experiences, oblivious to the sun sinking over the horizon.

As they rounded another bush he sneezed. Before he could explain that it was his usual reaction to hazel trees at this season, Cherry said, alarmed, “You must be more careful of your health. That fever was a warning sign.”

“Already you talk like a solicitous wife.” Jonathan smiled at her.

“Or sister.” She made a grimace. “At least then nobody would be able to criticize me for coming to look after you when you were ill. It’s what a sister would do, after all.”

“Whatever the truth, I cannot picture you as my sister. I don’t believe in the instinctive recognition of relatives, but to be so misled?”

“Let’s wait for clear evidence,” Cherry quickly suggested. She felt the same, but it might bring bad luck to take too much for granted.

“So are we agreed – if we are not related, the engagement stands?”

“There is also my mourning period. It is six more months, though I feel impatient to get it over with. I would not mind abbreviating it, but society frowns on doing so.”

“We can use these months to get to know each other better, and for a proper courtship, which was not possible beforehand.”

“That sounds attractive.”

“And let’s not forget Buckley. By the time your mourning ends we’ll have got rid of this menace, one way or the other.”

“I am a little surprised I have not received any further threats since coming to Bellington. Prune thinks he’s waiting for me in London, ready to pounce the moment I return to his spider web.”

“We’ll see about that. Let
me
worry about it, Cherry.”

Chapter 23

“So your mother’s diary did not give any reason? As a mother myself, such an act is quite unfathomable to me,” Prune said to Jonathan. Cherry was sitting at her sister’s side, looking at Jonathan in the opposite seat of the barouche, and trying not to be too obvious about it.

“Emily and I find it equally incomprehensible,” Jonathan said. “They were poor, but not starving by any means. Emily thinks that my mother may have felt unable to cope with two infants at once, since she had no servants.”

“Even one is work enough under such conditions,” Prune said. Cherry had no expertise to contribute on the subject. She should have half a dozen children at her age … children whose father would be a disgraced suicide, and left without any provision? A merciful fate had protected her from that desperate situation.

They reached Trepsham in good time and were directed towards a handsome house somewhat to the south of the village, set in a large garden bounded by a rivulet on the left side.

“It looks charming,” Prune said with an approving look at the neatly trimmed hedges.

After sending in their cards, they were quickly led to the lady of the house, who was sitting outdoors on the back terrace, on a cushioned bench. She was dressed in a gown of dark green merino which set off her grey curls and fair, lightly wrinkled skin.

Mrs. Bolston greeted them affably, then gestured towards a group of wrought-iron chairs, and told the parlour maid who had ushered them in to bring the tea tray.

“My husband, my son and his wife are out visiting,” she said, “we can talk of old history quite undisturbed. I confess I was intrigued by Lady Spalding’s note.”

“Thank you, Ma’am, for agreeing to receive us,” Jonathan said. “Lady Spalding has written to you why we are here, hoping to learn from you what has been hidden for nigh on three decades? It is extremely important.” He exchanged a glance with Cherry.

“First let me have a good look at these young ladies … I have known of you since just after you were born, through poor Anne’s letters. So you are Prudence, and you are Charity?”

“Indeed.” Cherry stared into the woman’s pale blue eyes. So this was her late mother’s best friend and confidante. What did she know? How would it affect her life?

“Neither of you looks at all like Anne, and no wonder. I would like to meet Patience too, her own child.”

“She will come to visit you willingly, and is probably eager to hear all about her mother’s youth,” Cherry said. “We did not want to overwhelm you with too many visitors the first time.”

“And what is your interest in the matter, Sir?”

“I have reason to believe that one of these two ladies is my twin sister, and a burning need to find out which.”

Mrs. Bolston smiled. “So you survived after all!”

Jonathan frowned. “Was there any doubt?”

“I have been looking at Anne’s letters, since I received Lady Spalding’s note,” their hostess said. “Though I remembered the general gist, in such a case every word might be significant. I believe it will be best if I read the relevant passages aloud.” She withdrew two faded, delicate sheets of paper from the pages of a book on the table before her.

All three of them stared at the letters with mingled hope and dread.

The arrival of the tea tray with a selection of delicious little pastries and sandwiches interrupted the proceedings. Mrs. Bolston kept them in suspense for ten whole minutes, while she poured and offered the food around.

Her small pear tart turned to ashes in Cherry’s mouth. The letters with their long-held secrets were right there on the table. She wanted to snatch and read them right away, but a lady did not behave like that, and besides, the documents were not hers – though they might decide how her life would proceed from this point.

At last Mrs. Bolston put her cup down, and took up the first sheet.

“
Dear Serena,”
she read in a clear alto voice, 

“
I received your last letter over a week ago, but you will forgive my tardy answer when you hear what has happened over these last hectic days.

Little Patience is thriving, fat and rosy at three months, and I believe now that the eyes will remain blue, and the hair fair, at least they show no sign of changing. She is strong-willed but not fussy, and my love for her grows apace with her own body and mind.

“I have another daughter now! There, can you believe it? It came suddenly, but I do believe it was fate, and my joy in my own child is redoubled with my second little daughter.

Mrs. Bolston paused to pour some more tea into her cup, and took a small sip.

“So it was unexpected – they did not go out deliberately adding children to the family,” Jonathan said. Cherry and Prudence exchanged apprehensive glances.

“While Harry was out to arrange for our transport to Cheltenham,”
Mrs. Bolston went on,
“leaving Patience in the care of her wet nurse, I called upon various ladies whose acquaintance I had made during the last six months in this place, to take my leave of them. I very nearly went home after my call at the Vicarage. At the last moment I remembered Mrs. Durwent, the curate’s wife.”

“Go on,” Jonathan begged, when she paused for another sip of tea. “That was my mother. Does the letter have a date?”

“Yes, there it is,
19 November 1793
.”

“Just weeks after my birth in October of that year,” Jonathan said.

“
I found Mrs. Durwent in very low spirits. Like me, she had given birth not long ago, indeed even more recently, since her twins, a boy and a girl, were only three weeks old. They were very tiny, particularly the girl child, Mary Rose. When I remarked on the disparity of size between the two, Mrs. Durwent confessed that she did not expect both children to live, as all of her previous children had succumbed to various fevers and sicknesses in their early youth. She did not have enough milk for both, she claimed, so she suckled the boy first, and the girl, whom she did not expect to survive, as she had been sensibly smaller from birth, only received whatever sustenance was left after the boy had been fed.”

The woman seemed almost surprised that little Mary Rose was still hanging on to life after three weeks of this regimen, though not growing much.

“Damn,” Jonathan said involuntarily, blanching. “I beg your pardon. This is unconscionable.”

“I suppose it made sense to her,” Cherry said, trying to be impartial, though it was difficult. That little girl had been either herself, or her beloved sister. She clenched her hands, to prevent an outburst of anger. Prune was pale.

“Let me finish,” Mrs. Bolston said.
“As you will understand, Serena, my blood boiled at seeing this little girl, so much smaller and frailer than my own healthy Patience, being slowly starved. From whence the inspiration came I know not – though I have my suspicions – but I offered to take the child off her hands, and bring her up myself, with the help of our wet nurse, who has more than enough milk for another small child. Mrs. Durwent agreed after some thought that it might be for the best. Her husband came in soon after and gave his approval of my plan without hesitation, since he thought the two children were too much for Mrs. Durwent to handle, as weak as she still felt since her confinement.

I have grave doubts about the boy’s survival, by the way, since Mrs. Durwent seems to have very old-fashioned ideas of hygiene where small children are concerned; indeed when I brought the little girl home her tiny bottom was sore and red. I tried to give Mrs. Durwent some hints, before I left, how to better manage such matters, but I know not how much she took in; her whole demeanour was apathetic and listless.”

“Good heavens,” Jonathan said. “It sounds like she may have saved my life, as well as my sister’s.”

“The girl suckled most greedily when I brought her to our temporary home, and handed her to Tressie for feeding. When I placed her side by side with Patience, the difference brought tears to my eyes. I was seized with a great determination to help this tiny child grow up and make a life of her own.

You may imagine Harry’s surprise when he returned in the evening, and I apprised him of this addition to our family. He was horrified by my description of Mrs. Durwent’s practices, and eventually agreed with my suggestion that it might have been the Lord’s hand which led me to the Durwents, when I had already been on the point of finishing my calls. We prayed together for the little girl’s life, and swore that she should never be treated any differently from our own sweet Patience. We decided to name her Prudence, as we had planned to name our second daughter, if one should be given to us.”

Mrs. Bolston’s voice trailed off, as Prune, Jonathan, and Cherry jumped up from their seats, unable to contain their reaction to this proof.

“So you
are
my brother!” Prune exclaimed. “I felt it was so, but I am overjoyed that there is proof.”

“I feel guilty that my mother preferred me so, and would have sacrificed your life in my favour.” Jonathan did not know how Prudence could look at him without anger or revulsion. ”I never had the least notion – no wonder my parents never referred to you during all the years I grew up. I almost hate them for what they did to you.”

“Well, it turned out for the best,” Mrs. Bolston interjected, placidly putting an almond biscuit on her plate. “Whatever mistakes your parents may have committed are certainly not your fault, Mr. Durwent.”

“I had no idea I had a brother, let alone a twin,” Prune said. “And though I felt certain that the Trellishams were not my natural parents, I feared that I might have been illegitimate and unwanted. It turns out I was legitimate and unwanted.”

“Don’t judge Mrs. Durwent too harshly,” Mrs. Bolston advised. “We only have Serena’s account of the circumstances, and she barely knew Mrs. Durwent. Many women fall into a listless despondency after birth, and this sounds like one of those cases. She may have regretted later, when she felt better, what she did in those weeks after her twins’ birth.”

Cherry had hung back while Prune and Jonathan were talking to each other. She felt a tremendous relief. The fear that she had been attracted to her own brother, had kissed him so lasciviously, had been affecting her sleep.

“Thank you, God,” she thought. There must be a benign deity after all.

After a great many more explanations and exclamations, she felt Jonathan’s hand clasp her own, and he sent her a look that promised more kisses in the near future.

“Mrs. Bolston,” he said to their hostess, “there is yet one more mystery to be solved. In your letters from the late Mrs. Trellisham, is there any information regarding the origins of Charity – my fiancée?”