Death of a Dowager (28 page)
Read Death of a Dowager Online
Authors: Joanna Campbell Slan
I came up with my plan not a moment too soon. The next morning, Higgins walked into the breakfast room, bringing me a note on a silver platter.
I opened it quickly. “It’s from Lady Conyngham. She wants to meet with me, alone, in Hyde Park today. And she requests I bring the letter. She doesn’t say what she’ll do if I turn her down, but the threat is there all the same.”
“Darling girl, are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Edward asked.
“No, but thank you. I do not want her to be suspicious. If the Marchioness thinks she has bullied me into submission, if she believes I’ve come with my tail tucked between my legs, all the better. I shall rely on my insignificant size and unchallenging mien to lull her into her natural state of superiority. She will think she’s put a scare into me and determine that I’m incapable of deception.”
“Are you capable of lying? You are such a good girl, my love.”
“You would be amazed at what I am capable of, Mr. Rochester. As soon as my stitches heal, I intend to show you.”
A few hours later, Williams brought Lucy’s carriage to Hyde Park, a place where the bushes were low and no trees blocked the view of us. Taking his time, he helped me out of the carriage, making sure I did not trip over the bright red shawl I had worn for the purpose of making myself more conspicuous.
A few minutes earlier, we had dropped Mr. Douglas off on the other side of the park. He planned to make his way across the acreage to a spot where he could observe my transaction unobtrusively.
The map enclosed in Lady Conyngham’s note had indicated we were to meet at a bench close to the street. That was fortunate for me, although the purpose was surely to make life easier for the heavyset Marchioness.
I did not have to wait long. A handsome maroon cabriolet with a pair of matching black horses clattered down the street before coming to a halt. Twin footmen in maroon livery, with gold epaulets on their shoulders, opened the door and escorted the Marchioness out. This morning her age was obvious as she moved with the sort of hesitation common in older people. When she was close enough, I pushed myself to a standing position and did my best to curtsy, although my genuflection was incredibly painful.
The Marchioness took a seat, and I sat next to her. “Well, we aren’t here to chat. I’ve heard that you managed to best Mrs. Biltmore, and she is locked up. You also managed to determine who actually killed Lady Ingram. One of her daughters is in jail, and the other is touring the Continent. I suppose you are congratulating yourself. I imagine that you think that I no longer have any influence over you,” she said.
“Actually, that’s not the case. I know better.”
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Go on.”
“I am fully cognizant that you can still ruin Lucy. Yes, her name is cleared as to the death of Dowager Lady Ingram. And Blanche Ingram won’t be able to gossip about my friend or me. But you are still here. You still have the ear of the King. You have it in your power to do much damage to us all.”
“My, my.” The Marchioness sounded like a contented kitten. A genuine smile lifted the edges of her lips. “You are much smarter than I thought.”
“Therefore, I have decided to give you the love letter.”
Reaching into my reticule, I handed her the missive, folded with the King’s own seal on the outside. She tore it from me and read it quickly:
My Darling Pansy,
I am sorry you find yourself with child; however, I cannot marry you because I am already married.
Pity the poor head that wears the crown! No one can imagine what dangers and pressures assail me on every side. The dreams I have of my time on the battlefield! The terror I relive! Sometimes I fear that I am every bit as mad as my father!
George
What she held in her hand was the last page of the love letter, to the top of which I had merely added a salutation and opening sentence.
Lady Conyngham stared at the single sheet and murmured as if to herself, “I recognize his handwriting and the paper. No other stationery could have that same provenance. But although it was clearly written when Mrs. Biltmore was pregnant, it does not state to whom he is married! It doesn’t name Mrs. Fitzherbert as his wife! He could well be writing about Queen Caroline!”
I said nothing.
“Honestly,” she said, as she pursed her lips, “to hear the King speak of it, you’d think this letter proved he defied the Royal Marriages Act. I should have guessed he wouldn’t do that. He was far too diffident to his father to risk his disapproval, although this does prove he committed adultery.” She flicked the paper with a finger, “You have gone to a lot of effort to safeguard something with very little value. No one expects a King to be a saint!”
I shrugged. “I never suggested it had great value. Everyone else did. And I suppose to some, it might still. If you don’t want it—”
“I shall keep it,” she said quickly. “Though I am not sure it is worth standing up at a baptismal font.”
“But I have done as you asked. Now you must keep your portion of our agreement!” Actually, Lucy and I had concurred that Lady Conyngham’s patronage mattered very little to her and Evans. But I still thought it best to keep up appearances.
“No, I think not. Yes, you have turned this over to me, but it is a worthless piece of paper,” she said. “It’s clear to me that over the years the King has forgotten exactly what he wrote.”
Yes, that was what I had hoped she might think. After all, she had no respect for the man, other than what he might afford her—and he had no respect for her. It stood to reason they would not credit each other with any sense.
I pressed my point. “But you told me you would stand up for Evans!”
“I think not. I am tired of you and your friend. Now that I have the letter, I have no need for either of you.”
To my way of thinking, that was just fine.
From my seat on the park bench, I watched her carriage drive away. Williams came to my aid. “You all right, ma’am?”
“Never better. Except for my side.”
“Well done, Mrs. Rochester. Bravo!” Mr. Douglas stepped out from a stand of rhododendron bushes.
We returned together in the carriage to Grosvenor Square, where he helped me walk into Lucy’s marble entrance hall. From the drawing room came the sound of happy female voices. I squared my shoulders and walked into the room, eager to join the gathering. The three women did not hear my approach, each was so absorbed in what she was doing.
My friend Lucy was pouring tea. Minney Seymour was cradling Evans and cooing to him. Maria Fitzherbert was marveling over a letter she held in her hands.
A letter that began, “
My Darling Pansy . . .”
Dear Reader, I always wonder what is truth and what is fiction when I read. So come closer and I shall whisper a few of my secrets in your ear:
You are probably wondering if Minney Seymour actually was the illegitimate child of King George IV and Maria Fitzherbert? Scholars are divided on the subject. However, she was certainly the child of his heart. The King remained exceedingly fond of Minney his entire life, sending her small presents and settling upon her the sum of £20,000 on her twenty-first birthday.
Yes, there were only eight Bow Street Runners, and their primary charge was to protect the King. Given how disliked George IV was, that would not have been an easy task. As for the love letters, it is true that the King wrote them and bought them back . . . repeatedly. And the Marchioness Conyngham’s family did prosper from her “special friendship” with the monarch.
Did King George IV really marry Maria Fitzherbert in secret—and then publicly marry Caroline of Brunswick? Yes. But his heart stayed true to Maria. In fact, he left instructions that he was to be buried with a miniature portrait of her that he wore around his neck, hanging on a tattered black ribbon. As for poor Queen Caroline, she was barred from attending her husband’s coronation ceremony on July 19, 1821. Eleven days later, she suffered severe abdominal pains and finally died on August 7. Some suggest that she had been poisoned.
What about the Lunarticks? Did they really exist? Yes, and one of their number did recognize digitalis as a possible cure for heart problems. While the original society supposedly disbanded in 1813, they still meet today, which suggests they actually were driven underground.
Cannabis was first cultivated in 4000 BC in China and is considered one of the fundamental herbs of Chinese medicine. It can be effective in treating glaucoma because it lowers inter-ocular pressure. An Irish doctor in Calcutta published a paper about it in 1839, so it is reasonable to assume that word about its healing properties might have spread informally before that date.
The Great Famine occurred in 1845; however, in the years preceding there were many potato crop failures that sent the Irish to London hoping for jobs, including one in 1821.
For more information about King George IV, I suggest
Mrs. Fitzherbert and George IV
by W. H. Wilkins,
Prince of Pleasure
by Saul David, and
The Trial of Queen Caroline
by Jane Robins.
