Prue Phillipson - Hordens of Horden Hall (32 page)

“Not out but not coming this way. Shall we unpack the treasures?”

“Not yet. How can I tell what we may have to part with for some ready cash? I told you I could find none in the house. But I have sent Robert for the lawyer. He lives out in Bow Street so he will have been safe. He will tell me what to do now I’m a widow. Eh that word! It has a black sound to it and black is what I must put on.”

The lawyer came in the early afternoon, a big bluff man whose manner to Celia was not as kind or respectful as Eunice expected. He was accompanied by a law student carrying all the ledgers and other documents which the under manager had brought to Clifford on his return from the country after the plague – the news that had triggered his first seizure. At least this action had saved them from the fire.

It was quickly evident that the lawyer had studied them since taking them away at his last visit but he had also brought a pile of letters he had been sent himself since rumours of Clifford’s death had excited the commercial world.

These letters he spread out first over the dining-table. He slapped a hand on them. “Creditors – every last one. Your husband trusted Richard Corcoran, Mrs Horden, but he always had his own hand on the tiller so to speak until lately. Corcoran thought he could do better by greater boldness. On his own initiative he bought a large consignment of spices and cocoa beans which would have made a great profit if they had ever arrived. They were seized by the Dutch. Frightened by the loss he tried to put it right with another outlay which also came to grief. Knowing his master would soon be home he took from the strong room enough to cover his own pay and to get himself to France – but that was all there was. The under-managers and the men are still owed several months’ wages.”

Celia clasped her head in her hands. “And my people here have not been paid since my poor husband’s first seizure! The very nurse who was supposed to care for him demanded two pounds and dear Eunice here had only three shillings to give her. What money Clifford had on him when we came back from the country has gone in daily expenses and I know the butcher’s bill has not been paid because he came himself having lost his shop to the fire and wants all owing to him so he can start up again somewhere. Did I not tell you we were ruined, Eunice?” She burst into tears.

“Now then, Mrs Horden, you are not going to Newgate Prison, not yet for I believe it has burnt down too. I saw several chests and boxes in the hallway. Had you been planning to run away from the fire? No doubt they are full of valuables. I can get a good price for them from foreign visitors. There are many have come to gloat over the City and pick up what bargains they can. Then there is this house. With thousands of homes destroyed – including some of the grandest like Dorset House – good mansions such as this will be much sought after.”

Celia looked wide-eyed at Eunice. “But where would we live? You are not saying I will have nothing left at all.”

“That
is
what I am saying. I doubt if even that will cover the debts but we will hope creditors will be prepared to wait. These are difficult times for everyone. The Lords in Council may issue grants for rebuilding to those totally ruined by the fire but that will not help
you
.”

Eunice looked him in the eye. “Can you not temper your tone, sir? My poor grandmother cannot take any more blows than she has already suffered.”

“Alas, the truth
is
unpalatable, my dear young lady.”

“What then do you advise us to do, sir?”

“There must be friends or family who would take you in.”

Celia shook her head. “We have acquaintances in London. Lord and Lady Branford who live further east along the Strand must have a dozen rooms they never use but they have just lost their son in the navy and anyway have run away to their country place from the fire. Clifford made enemies rather than friends in the days of his success.”

“
Your
family, Mrs Horden?”

Eunice realised she had never known any relations on her grandmother’s side.

Celia shook her head. “My parents died soon after I was married and my brother was only fifteen when he was drowned in the river at Eton in some silly schoolboy prank. You are going to say I must have inherited some wealth. I did but it helped Clifford with his business and now this is how I am to be rewarded – a pauper in my old age. I have no family. I have nowhere to –” She stopped suddenly and seized Eunice’s arm. “The cousins! They owe us a favour. They came here expecting hospitality which we gave them gladly and their French relations too.”

Eunice swallowed hard. The lawyer stuck his head forward.

“Who are these people, Mrs Horden?”

“
Clifford’s
cousins, the Northumberland Hordens. Why, Eunice here is practically engaged to Sir Daniel.”

Eunice felt her cheeks flame up. “That I am not. We could never beg
them
for help. They are poor too.”

The lawyer however became very interested. “But landed gentry? Is it a baronetcy?”

“Oh yes, yes,” cried Celia. “They
were
poor but the husband has a stipend as the vicar and their land will have recovered from the ravages of the late wars and they are kind, generous-hearted people. We will go to Northumberland. It may be a wild uncivilised place but I am sick of London. London is verily a cursed city.” Then she looked as suddenly downcast again. “We cannot write to them. The post office was burnt down and are there any coaches going out of London and how can we pay for the journey?”

The lawyer chuckled and held up his hand. “The post office is to be temporarily located in Covent Garden and many stage coaches were driven out in advance of the fire and will certainly be plying for business. As to your last question I have one other piece of business to state which is happier news. Mrs Horden, you know that your husband made a will before you went into the country. Because of the plague he thought it a wise precaution. Did he show it to you?”

“No. Everything was to come to me, he said.”

“But he had already been adding to an annuity he had set aside” – he looked at Eunice – “for his granddaughter. These are his words.” He unfolded a parchment and read from it. “‘Inasmuch as my son William has cut himself off from me and chosen voluntary poverty with no forethought for the daughter who is certain to outlive him I wish to provide for her, Eunice Horden, a sum that will bring her in thirty pounds a year for life.’ Now with my help in drawing up this provision that sum is safe from creditors. They cannot touch it and when his death has been officially attested I can pay out the first thirty pounds as soon as you wish to claim it.”

Eunice sat speechless, astounded.

Celia rose and flung her arms round her neck. “Dear child, we are saved.”

The lawyer snapped, “You appreciate this is
her
money.”

Eunice glared at him. “Of course it is at my grandmother’s disposal. She should have had all my grandfather’s wealth but for these unhappy circumstances. Now we do not need to be under an obligation to anyone. We can rent a small property and I can also work and support her.”

Celia held up her hands and her little eyes gleamed like beads in the folds of her podgy face. “I am going to Northumberland and you promised faithfully before God never to leave me.”

Now the lawyer chuckled. “Your granddaughter is not obliged to pay your fare. And I’m afraid you still owe me my fee.”

Celia pulled at a ring on her finger and with difficulty wrenched it over the swollen knuckles. “Take that. It is worth forty guineas at least. Give me change out of it for both our fares for we cannot owe you that much in fees.”

He looked at it critically. Then he reached into his own pocket and drew out a little purse from which he counted twelve gold sovereigns and laid them on the table.

“I will consider myself paid though there will still be much to do before your husband’s affairs are tidied up. I take it you will want your servants here paid off since you will not be able to take them with you wherever you go.”

He began gathering up the papers and summoned his student who had been sitting in the hallway awaiting orders. “Put these back in the document box and call a hackney if you can find one.”

When the young man had gone he beamed at Eunice and her grandmother.

“I will be sending a dealer to value the house and its contents but now, ladies, you are free to sort out your destiny between you. Send for me as you need me but at all events let me know when and where you go.”

He bowed himself out.

“Well!” Celia swept up the sovereigns. Her small mouth between the plump cheeks was positively grinning. “Now you shall not escape your Daniel, my girl. We will go as soon as it can be arranged.”

Eunice saw how she had fallen into a trap. Oh it would be pain and humiliation to go begging to Horden Hall. She did not for a moment believe that Daniel loved her. How would it look to him? She imagined herself saying, “Here I am, homeless, so you will have to marry me.” But no, she reminded herself. I can go as an independent woman. If Cousin Arabella befriends Grandmother I will have done my duty by taking her there. I can settle nearby perhaps – I have no concept of villages and country houses – but with thirty pounds a year surely I can support myself.

Next moment she was asking herself, what would Father say? He would warn me of the sin of pride now that money has been dangled before my eyes. Life is service to others. I must remember only Grandmother’s desolation and her need of love, not her cunning or her skill in manipulating events.

Under it all a part of her was singing, I will set eyes on Daniel again.

“Grandmamma,” she said out loud. “Are there any clothes in the house I can alter for my use? My own dresses are sadly worn.”

“Of course, but we must both be in black though it will not set you off so well for your man. I have two mourning gowns for myself in fine wool which I wore when we heard William and you were both gone but as time had already passed I did not wear them long. For your tiny figure I can surely find some material. You are quick with your needle I know. Come with me and we will look into the dressing room and equip ourselves for the North. We must travel soon before winter sets in or we will never arrive.”

CHAPTER 22

Bel tapped at the door of Daniel’s bedchamber and looked in. It was flooded with the light of another fine autumn morning but his bed curtains were drawn and no sound came from behind them.

“Dan, we mustn’t waste another good day. The oat fields have been cut and I am ready to help with every man and boy we can bring in. You used to love that.”

She paused but there was no reply. “Don’t pretend you’re not strong enough yet for we both know that’s nonsense. You’ll only get back to full health by activity. Your leg is perfectly well and the doctor says it only needs exercise.”

There was still silence so complete that she suddenly thought she was talking to emptiness. He must after all have got up and gone out without showing his face at breakfast.

She stepped to the bed and pulled back the curtain.

He was there, flat on his back and glaring up at her.

“Is there no such thing as privacy?” His voice had that flat dull sound that she had come to dread. It was as if an imposter had taken the place of the warm, laughing, impulsive boy she had once loved.

“Oh Dan, please. Come out of this mood. I can’t bear this. It is almost worse than your absence. Nay” – she sat on the bed and gazed at him – “it
is
worse. That was a clean sharp pain. You were out at sea, you were in danger, but you were still my boy. Now it is like having a stranger in the house. You walk about like a shadow.”

“If you get off the bed I’ll get up – if that’s what you want.”

She was near to tears which she knew he hated. She stood up and went out without another word.

Nat had gone to the church to say the morning office but Ursula was in the kitchen. She ran down to her.

“Oh Urs, what am I to do with him?” She saw Ursula was kneading bread on the kitchen table top. She grabbed a lump of dough from her and began pounding it with all her might. “That’s what I want to do with him.”

Ursula’s brilliant blue eyes were alight with love. “Well, my Bel.
You
should understand him if anyone does. He has a cloud.”

Bel stopped pounding and dug her fingers deeply into the dough as she stared across the table at Ursula. Then she shook her head. “When I had my cloud I was still as wild and impulsive as before. It made me wretched and cross and sad but I was still alive. He might as well be dead. No, no, I don’t mean that but you have seen it – something has died inside him.” She drew out her fingers and licked them.

“I
have
seen it.” Ursula flattened the dough, incorporated Bel’s lump back into it and folded it together again to pound it some more. “It’s something that happened at sea, I think, in the battle.”

“I thought so but then I remember how he was when we were reunited at Cousin Celia’s house. He was my boy, loving, glad to see us. Of course he was quiet. I realise now how much pain he was in. And he suffered on the journey here but without complaining once. He didn’t want to talk about the battle or how he got the wound but that I understood. He was grieving for his friend. But it was after he recovered from the fever that he fell into this sullen mood just when he should have been back to his old bouncy self – riding, walking, finding a hundred things to do.”