“Well, I’m extremely thankful that one of my daughters will become the Countess of Durham. But Harriet must be absolutely devastated.”
James slid his arms about his wife and drew her against him. “I’m not so sure, darling. I don’t believe for a moment that she lost her heart to him. As a matter of fact, I think she feels contempt that he doesn’t do more for the working poor in his county.”
“If you are right, then it is infinitely better that they don’t marry. A wife should be able to revere her husband, and take great pride in him, not hold him in contempt.”
James raised her chin with his fingers and looked into her eyes. “Do you revere me, Lady Lu?”
“At the risk of swelling your head, along with other prominent body parts, I must confess that I do.” She licked her lips. “Will you reward me with a sugared mouse?”
“I will reward you with anything your heart desires.”
She reached out to fondle his erection. “Damn you, Abercorn, you know I cannot resist such blatant temptation.”
Harriet decided to ease the awkward situation by removing herself to the guest wing to sleep in the bedchamber she had shared with Rachel. Her emotions were in turmoil, and more than anything, she needed to be alone to think things through.
All her preconceived notions of D’Arcy Lambton being in love with her had been shattered into a million pieces.
The lecherous swine betrayed me!
The lump in her throat almost choked her.
Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry, Harry Hamilton!
Finding D’Arcy and Trixy in flagrante delicto had shocked her to the core. What she had witnessed today not only wiped away her trust in men; it had given her self-confidence a grievous blow. For the first time in her life, she felt unattractive, unloved, and unsure of herself. Lying alone in the darkness, Harry felt so vulnerable that her eyes flooded with tears.
Anger with herself was the only thing that saved her from sobbing her heart out. She dashed away her tears with impatient hands.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’ve been saved from a loveless marriage.
She threw back the covers, slipped out of bed, and crossed to the window. She stared into the darkness with unseeing eyes and vowed that no man would ever deceive or make a fool of her again.
In the future, I will never consider marrying any man unless he gives me absolute proof that he loves me, and I am sure that I love him in return.
“I absolutely love my gown.” Beatrix smiled at Madam Martine as she tirelessly pinned up the hem on the white satin wedding dress that measured ten full yards.
Harry sent up a fervent prayer of thanks that it was not she who would be wearing the nuptial monstrosity.
Their mother swept into the room. “That’s a relief. St. George’s Church is confirmed for the first Tuesday in August. The church has been reserved every day of the month, but since our wedding will be small, they can accommodate us in the afternoon.”
“Isn’t it amazing?” Trixy took off her veil and handed it to Jane. “Everything the tarot cards predicted has come true! It said I would get my wish in a three, and it will be just over three weeks from that night to my wedding day!”
“It’s magical,” Jane said with a heartfelt sigh. To spare Lady Harriet’s sensibilities, it had been decided that her sister Jane would be Beatrix’s maid of honor, and the seventeen-year-old was swept up in the romance of it all.
Harry thought of the tarot cards she had drawn that night.
The
Fool
told me I had a choice in life, and that trial and error would bring wisdom.
A picture of the
Hanged Man
came into her mind.
It was right too. I was not tied—I could free myself at any time. It warned that to achieve my desired goals, I must change the direction of my life. There seems to be a profound truth connected with the tarot cards.
“People are bound to gossip, so be prepared,” the duchess warned her girls. “For one thing, the engagement will be scandalously short, and traditionally, it is the
eldest
daughter who is supposed to wed first.”
“Mother, you are the one who has taught us that we
set
fashion; we don’t
follow
it,” Harry said dryly.
On the last day of July, Parliament recessed for the month of August. Thomas Anson gathered his papers together. He was looking forward to spending time in Staffordshire, touching base with his constituents. The gardens at Shugborough would be blazing with color and he couldn’t wait to spend time at the estate that meant so much to him.
As Thomas was leaving the House, he saw William Montagu and stopped to bid him good-bye. “I suppose you’ll be going to Midlothian during the recess. Scotland should be lovely at this time of year.”
“Yes, but I won’t be able to leave until after D’Arcy’s wedding. He has asked me to be his best man.”
“Lambton is getting married?” Thomas felt his heart plummet to his feet.
“Surely he told you? Still, it’s all been such a rush.”
Red-hot fury almost blinded him. Thomas felt as if the walls were closing in on him, and suffocation was imminent. “I’m sorry, Will. I’m in a bit of a hurry. I’m off to Staffordshire tomorrow. Good-bye. I shall see you in September.”
That son of a bitch beat me to the mark!
Thomas cursed himself.
I knew damn well he’d ask her. But I thought she’d turn him down!
He strode along Whitehall, oblivious to the other pedestrians who crowded the busy thoroughfare.
Don’t be an idiot, Anson. What young lady of fashion would turn down an offer to marry an earl of the realm? Especially an earl with an obscene fortune to lavish upon her.
“Mother, will you be all right if I leave for Shugborough in the morning?”
“Of course. I will be perfectly fine. You mustn’t worry about me, Thomas. Your constituents will welcome you with open arms. And so they should, with the perquisites for Lichfield you manage to garner in Parliament.”
“That’s why they elected me. I’m just doing my job. I’ll take the two paintings I procured recently and hang them back where they rightfully belong.”
Barbara Anson laid down her fork and looked at her son. “Fowler was here again today. The narrow-eyed wretch turns up every week like clockwork. He visits more often than the doctor.”
Thomas tried for a light tone. “Devious plotting with his attorney is one of the few things that brings Father pleasure. Try not to let it upset you.”
I will make sure the depraved swine never hurts you again.
“While I’m away, you must let Norton attend to his needs. If you allow it, Father will run you ragged with his inconsiderate demands.”
That’s the other thing that provides him with perverse pleasure.
The servant, who came into the dining room to clear the table, brought a message that the earl wished to see his son. Thomas had expected it. After a visit from Martin Fowler, he was always summoned.
Thomas had a heavy heart, and he climbed the stairs slowly, well aware that this encounter would do nothing to lighten his spirit. He entered the chamber, crossed to the bed, and looked unflinchingly into his father’s pouched eyes.
“By any remote chance, are you in pursuit of the heiress we spoke of?” His words were labored and Thomas could hear wheezing inside his chest.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Father.”
The old man smirked. “You are waiting for me to die.” Speaking brought on a coughing spell, and Thomas poured him a glass of water. But when he proffered it, the bedridden man knocked it from his son’s hand. “When that day arrives, you think your troubles will be over, but you are wrong, you arrogant young swine.”
My mother’s troubles will sure as hell be over.
“Fowler was here today. Let’s see how the laws of primogeniture help you when my signed affidavit is read with my Last Will and Testament.”
The maggots are already eating your brain.
“It swears that you are illegitimate.”
Thomas recoiled. “You are insane! That is a deliberate lie. How can you bring such shame to Mother?”
“You, and you alone, can prevent the shame. As promised, if you take a wealthy wife before I die, Fowler has orders to burn the affidavit.”
Thomas felt his gut knot. He clenched his fists to prevent his hands from choking the life from the monster. “If you declare me a bastard, who, pray, will be your
legitimate
heir?”
Lichfield sneered. “My firstborn child, your sister Anne Frederica. She’s the only one I’m sure I fathered. Her husband, Lord Elcho, has plenty of wealth to lavish on Shugborough.”
For the first time since he was a boy, the cold finger of fear touched his heart.
The thought of losing Shugborough was unendurable to him. Thomas closed his eyes and gathered his strength.
No power on earth will wrest Shugborough from my hands. I hereby vow to keep it in my possession, or die trying.
“Thank you for inviting me to ride with you, Father.” Harry was truly grateful for the opportunity to be alone for a private conversation.
“I anticipated that Hyde Park would be practically deserted on the first day of August.” The bond between Abercorn and his firstborn child was special. “You did the right thing, Harry, deciding not to marry D’Arcy Lambton.”
“Yes, I know.” She threw him a grateful smile. “It finally dawned on me that I didn’t love him. Now, of course, I realize that he didn’t love me either. That was rather hard to swallow. But in truth, I’ve had a miraculous escape from a loveless marriage.”
“I sensed that you were not totally devastated over his asking Beatrix to become his wife, but I know that something is bothering you.”
“Oh, Father, you are so perceptive. It is my conscience. It’s playing merry hell with me. I feel like I have shirked my duty toward the hardworking people of Durham. My heart is heavy over their plight, and I could have done so much good if I had become the Countess of Durham.”
“I recommended Lambton for the lord lieutenancy, and before Prince Albert and Victoria left for Balmoral, he told me that the queen had agreed.”
Harry reined in and came to a halt. “Oh, Father, you did that for my sake!”
“I did, but thinking about it, I warrant Lambton’s appointment can be a good thing. It could spur him to take on some responsibility. He has no father or grandfather to guide him, so as his father-in-law, I thought I might take on the role.”
“That’s a splendid idea. If you can badger him into bettering the lives of the poor people of Durham, my conscience won’t prick me so relentlessly.”
“Working for a royal prince has taught me to be a diplomat. Badgering gets you nowhere. On the other hand, a
charm offensive
usually brings about the desired results.”
Abercorn winked at his daughter. “It is a good thing that D’Arcy doesn’t know of his appointment yet. I shall take ruthless advantage of the fact.”
“Just as a formality, Your Grace, I suppose I should read this marriage contract before I sign it.” D’Arcy Lambton took the legal paper from Abercorn’s desk and sat down in the brass-mounted armchair.
James Hamilton could not help contrasting D’Arcy’s casual attitude with his own when he had negotiated the marriage contract with the Duke of Bedford before he wed his daughter Lady Louisa. Abercorn had used the services of his wily attorneys from both Ireland and Scotland. And before he signed the legal document, he had negotiated a dowry that was more than double what had been offered.
“I have no need of Lady Beatrix’s dowry, Your Grace.”
“Your generosity is commendable, my dear fellow. Since you don’t need the money, may I suggest that you put it in trust for Beatrix? That’s what I did when I married her mother.”
“That’s an excellent suggestion.”
“Good. I’ll just add that clause to the contract to clarify it.”
D’Arcy was about to hand the document back when Abercorn shook his head. “Read the second page. It is of paramount importance.”