The Dark Earl (34 page)

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Authors: Virginia Henley

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction, #General

BOOK: The Dark Earl
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“So, you accepted his proposal?”
“Yes, I did. The only trouble is that it will be another rushed wedding. His father is dying, and his death would mean a mourning period.”
Lady Lu sighed with resignation. “I suppose if you prefer Thomas Anson over Will Montagu, it must mean that you are in love with him. I hope the attraction is more than physical, Harry.”
“I cannot deny that it’s physical. But there is the added attraction of Shugborough.”
Mother and daughter began to laugh. “You are an outrageous baggage, Harry.”
“I warrant I take after you.”
“Well, there’s nothing for it but Jane must marry Will Montagu. I absolutely insist that one of you get to occupy Montagu House so that I can visit regularly and descend that magnificent staircase with the dramatic flair it deserves!”
“You too are an outrageous baggage!”
“Thomas will ask your father for your hand?”
“Yes, he said he would come tomorrow evening. He’s giving me a chance to break the news gently.”
“Then I’d better send Abercorn a note to make sure he will be home.”
 
 
“Lady Harriet has agreed to marry me,” Thomas told his mother.
“Oh, I’m so pleased. I like her very much.”
“I wondered when you were going to let me know you had entertained her.”
“There’s not much that gets past you, Thomas. I don’t know if you are clairvoyant or simply shrewd.”
“Perhaps both, but as a boy, I learned to be vigilant. I dislike surprises, and I hate to be blindsided. I’ve trained myself to be one step ahead of my enemies and my friends. But it was Norton who told me Lady Harriet Hamilton came to dinner on Friday night. I told him to be sure to pass the information on to Father.”
“Ah, there’s method in your madness. Did you hope to put a stop to his badgering?”
“No, I don’t expect pears of an elm tree. I simply didn’t wish to discuss Harriet with him. Did the doctor come today?”
“Yes. He told me there is little time left. The doctor said he’d return tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow evening I shall ask Abercorn for his daughter’s hand. Until then, our betrothal isn’t official.”
“What is Abercorn like?”
He is everything that my father is not. He is trustworthy, moral, compassionate, noble, and his love for his wife and children is absolute.
Thomas’s lips formed a half smile. “Abercorn is magnificent.”
Thomas retired, and as he waited for midnight, when the house would be in darkness and the last servant asleep, he jotted down the combination to his father’s safe.
If Solange is correct and the first two numbers are 10 and 20, I warrant they stand for October 20, the day he was born. Since the year was 1795, it follows that the next three numbers are 17, 9, and 5.
Two hours later, he silently opened his father’s bedchamber door and went inside. The smell of camphor assailed his nostrils, and he schooled himself to stop his gorge from rising. He shuddered when he picked up the lamp. Though it was turned down low, the fear of fire was always there, lurking beneath the surface. As he carried it to the iron safe, his ears were alert for any change in his father’s labored breathing.
He turned the safe dial right to 10, then left to 20, and heard the tumblers fall into place. He turned it right again, almost a full circle, and stopped on 17. When he heard the tumbler, he knew he had guessed the combination correctly. He deftly turned it left to 9, right to 5, and slid open the heavy iron door. He took out all the papers inside, and sure enough, his instincts had been correct. As in the Anson file at Fowler’s office, there were two wills, along with a signed affidavit declaring him bastard, and a letter stating the affidavit and the second will were to be destroyed if Thomas wed before the earl died.
He put the original Last Will and Testament, naming him heir and bequeathing him Shugborough Hall, back in the safe, firmly closed the door, and spun the dial back to where it had been before he touched it. He picked up the papers and put the lamp back on its table. Thomas silently looked down at his father, and his heart mourned for what might have been.
He returned to his own wing, locked the door of his bedchamber, and sat down to examine the items he had removed from the safe. He set aside the Last Will and the signed affidavit, and picked up the other papers. He was amazed to see that they were IOUs made out to his father for gambling debts incurred by some prominent men. A couple of the nobles were now deceased, but one of the two remaining was from none other than the immensely wealthy Duke of Devonshire. He concluded his father must have fallen ill before he could collect what was owed to him.
His eyes glittered silver. It was an unwritten law that gentlemen always paid their gambling debts. He anticipated with relish Devonshire’s reaction when he presented the note for payment. Thomas locked the notes in his desk drawer.
He dropped the will and the signed affidavit into his metal wastebasket and burned them, as he had done with the documents he had taken from Fowler’s files. When the papers turned to black ash, he felt as if the weight of an anvil had been removed from his shoulders. He strode to the window, threw it open, and took several deep breaths of clean, fresh air. He had successfully removed his father’s ruinous threat, and the feeling of freedom that surged through him was euphoric.
Thomas reveled in the knowledge that he would inherit Shugborough along with the title Earl of Lichfield without impediment. The decision to marry would be entirely his.
I am free to exercise my own will, and swear to do so for the rest of my life!
Chapter Eighteen
 
“H
arriet has informed me that she wishes to become your wife, Thomas. Since her happiness is important to me, I gladly consent to the marriage.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. Has she explained the circumstances?”
“Yes. Since you don’t want the wedding postponed because of a mourning period, you would like the ceremony to take place without delay.”
“We will have to be married tomorrow.”
“That’s short notice. Have you made arrangements?”
“I took out a special license that will dispense with the banns, and I have arranged with the reverend of St. George’s to marry us. It will be in the Mayfair Chapel, rather than the church, since there will be so few of us in attendance.”
Abercorn’s eyes twinkled. “You anticipated that I would give you my blessing.”
“I did, Your Grace.”
“All that’s left is the marriage contract. I’ve taken the liberty of setting down some of the details. Harriet’s dowry is five thousand pounds. I will give you a draft on the Bank of England.”
“That is most generous, Your Grace, but I prefer that you put the money in Harriet’s name. My father drained away all the money he received when he wed my mother, and I refuse to follow in his footsteps.”
“That is very commendable, Thomas. I will make the arrangements.”
“Before you start praising me, you had better hear what I want in lieu of her dowry money.”
Thomas Anson reminded Abercorn of himself. “Say on.”
“I ask that you return everything you bought from Shugborough Hall in 1842 . . . the entire library, the paintings, and the furniture.”
Abercorn steepled his fingers, coolly contemplating the audacious request. Silence stretched between the two men, as they took each other’s measure.
“I am convinced it would make Harriet happy to have the things restored. Of course, it goes without saying how greatly I would benefit from such generosity.”
Finally, Abercorn assented. “With one caveat—Lady Lu is particularly fond of Rousseau’s first edition of
Émile
.”
Thomas nodded. “I would not dream of depriving her of it, Your Grace.”
Abercorn turned to the second page of the marriage contract. “If you should predecease your wife, Harriet is to receive a lump sum of ten thousand pounds, and five thousand per annum from the Shugborough estate.”
Thomas drew his brows together. “To provide her with that kind of money may necessitate the estate being sold. I cannot agree to ever selling Shugborough. What I will agree to, in the event that I predecease her, is that on my death Shugborough will be put in Harriet’s name and held in trust for her and my heir, should I be fortunate enough to have a son.”
Abercorn smiled. “That is even better than my proposal.” He meticulously wrote everything into the contract. “Well, all that’s left is to have Harriet in so you may both sign, and we can have my wife act as witness.”
“There’s just one thing before they come in, Your Grace. Since you have been generous enough to give me your daughter, I would like to give you something in return.” Thomas took a paper from his pocket and placed it on Abercorn’s desk. “This is an IOU made out to my father for three thousand pounds. It is a gambling debt incurred two years ago by Arthur Hamilton-Gordon, your youngest half brother.”
“Goddam the young devil, I can’t believe it! He was little more than a baby when my mother died. In memory of her, I created a trust fund for him, and this is how he squanders the money I provide. Thank you for confiding this to me. I will pay off his IOU immediately, Thomas.”
“I have no intention of collecting on this, Your Grace. I give you this evidence in hope that you will confront him and stop him from ruining his life with gambling. Since his father is the prime minister, and Arthur acts as his father’s secretary, if this or other IOUs fell into the wrong hands, he could be blackmailed.”
“It is no secret that I have nothing but contempt for the Earl of Aberdeen. I don’t give a rap what his older sons do, but I don’t want young Arthur to turn out like his father. I feel a responsibility for him, because my mother died when he was only three. I even allow him to live at Bentley Priory in Stanmore. Believe me, Thomas, I will put the fear of God into the irresponsible young devil.”
Abercorn strode to the library door and spied his daughter hovering in the hall.
“Harry, get your mother, then come and sign the marriage contract.”
In a few moments, his daughter and his wife came into the library. Thomas Anson stood so that the ladies could be seated in the brassbound Regency armchairs that would soon be restored to Shugborough.
Abercorn signed the contract, then handed it to Harriet. “I don’t think I need to caution you to read the document carefully before you put your signature on it.”
Harry dutifully began to read and when she got to the part where Thomas was to receive the books, paintings, and furniture that had once belonged to Shugborough, she raised her eyes to her groom. Her look of surprise quickly turned to admiration that he had negotiated so astutely.
Harry lowered her eyes and turned to the second page. When she read the part where her husband was to bequeath Shugborough to her in his will, she gave him a beatific smile, and a lump came into her throat at his touching generosity.
Thomas is proving beyond a doubt that he loves me.
She signed the document and handed it to Thomas so he could affix his signature.
He signed his name with a flourish and passed it to the duchess.
Abercorn declared, “You are only witnessing that you saw them sign the contract, Lu. You are not approving its contents.”
The duchess quickly scanned the terms, and though she was shocked at Thomas Anson’s shrewdness, she kept it to herself. She affixed her signature and smiled graciously. “Thank you for allowing me to keep
Émile
, though I think it beyond the pale to snatch away my library chairs.”
Everyone laughed, though they knew she was being perfectly honest.
While Abercorn called for champagne, Thomas took Harry’s hand. “I’ve made arrangements for us to be married at St. George’s Chapel tomorrow at five o’clock.”
He looked at the duke and duchess. “I’m sorry everything has to be rushed.”
“We understand perfectly, Thomas,” Louisa assured him. “Harry has been packing all day. Let us hope that the warm weather stays with us so you can enjoy a couple of weeks at Shugborough.”
Abercorn poured the champagne and they toasted the happy couple. “Why don’t the two of you spend the night at Campden Hill before you set off for Staffordshire? The place has been sitting empty since Rachel left for Ireland.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. That is most generous of you.”
“Rubbish! Unbend a little, Thomas. From now on, you must call me Lu.”
Abercorn took the empty champagne glass from his wife’s hand and led her to the door. “I think the young people would appreciate a little privacy, Lady Lu.”
When they were alone, Harry suddenly felt shy and absurdly tongue-tied, though she was breathless with excitement.
Thomas drew her into his arms and when he kissed her, she opened her lips in eager invitation. She went weak at the mastery of his mouth, and clung to him for support when the kiss ended. “Oh, it’s true—opposites do attract!”

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