The Widow of Larkspur Inn (4 page)

“Then take it now, please.” Twisting her wedding ring from her finger, she held it out toward Mr. Waldegrave. “I will ask my butler to get the rest of it from the safe before you leave.”

The younger banker blushed but got to his feet and took the ring.

Think about something else
, Julia commanded herself. To the bankers she asked, “What about the servants? Are they to be displaced as well?”

“Actually, the buyer has expressed a desire to keep them on. He has just retired from government service in India, you see, and currently resides at the Wellington Arms. Two grandchildren are to reside here as well, so even the nanny may continue her position.”

Mr. Waldegrave nodded. “And the buyer has generously agreed to take on the wages of your servants and any provisions you will need for the next ten days, provided you agree to vacate the premises when the time is up. He wishes to avoid having it spread about town that he forced a widow and children out into the street.”

The current of words was moving too swiftly for Julia. Her eyes met those of the older banker. “My children were
born
in this house, Mr. Forbes. Is there no other way?”

“I’m afraid not, Mrs. Hollis,” he replied with a grim voice. “We shall assist you in contacting your family, if you wish. Surely they would be willing to take in you and your children.”

“My parents were in their later years when I was born. They are deceased now, as well as the uncle who raised my husband. We had no siblings, so there are no family of whom to speak.”

As Julia said those words, she thought of how she’d give anything in the world to have her mother and father seated on each side of her right now. Just their very presence would give her the strength she so desperately needed.
Mother … Papa … are you watching from heaven? You worried about my marrying Philip so young, but I was too headstrong to listen. I thought you were too old to understand what it meant to be so much in love
.

She had been only sixteen when she was introduced to thirty-four-year-old Philip at a garden party at the home of one of her school friends. How flattered she was when such a handsome, charming older man appeared to hang on her every word. And the fact that he was a surgeon intrigued her, for here was a man who saved lives in the course of his daily activities.
How could I have guessed that the gem was so badly flawed?

She realized then that Mr. Waldegrave had been speaking and caught the rest of “ … no shame in asking for assistance from your church. Mayfair is a wealthy parish.”

“No,” Julia said adamantly. “We can’t live the rest of our lives on charity baskets.” Besides, the children had adored their father, no matter how little time he’d found to spend with them. To ask for assistance from the church would be to admit publicly what he had done, thus condemning the children to live with the knowledge and the stigma of having a father who failed to provide for them.

Mr. Forbes’ face settled into lines of profound sadness. “Mrs. Hollis,” he began, lifting his hands helplessly from the ledger book on his lap, “Mr. Waldegrave and I have wives and children. We take no pleasure in this action.”

There was genuine sympathy in his voice, and the resentment Julia felt toward the gentleman started to crumble at the edges. After all, it wasn’t
their
doing that put her and the children in this predicament.

“I’m aware of that, Mr. Forbes,” she told him as calmly as possible, pressing her hands together tightly so that the two men wouldn’t notice how they trembled.
You have to think now! What are you going to do for your children?

“Haven’t you any means of support?” asked Mr. Waldegrave. “A trust from your family, perhaps?”

“I turned over a sizable inheritance to my husband immediately upon receiving it ten years ago,” she answered, then couldn’t stop herself from adding in an acid tone, “as would any dutiful wife.”

Mr. Forbes looked through his ledger again. “You know … there is something here you may wish to consider.”

The faint hope in his voice caused Julia to lift her chin. “There is?”

Mr. Waldegrave seemed just as surprised, for he raised an eyebrow at his partner.

“The old inn that Dr. Hollis attempted to sell. Where was it located?”

Nodding recognition, Mr. Waldegrave replied, “Shropshire. Gresham is the name of the village.”

The name sounded familiar to Julia, but she couldn’t place it at the moment.

“Your husband’s uncle, a George Hollis, came into possession of a piece of property there shortly before his death. He’d inherited it from a distant cousin, Ethan Banning.”

She did recall Philip mentioning something about some property—most likely to Jensen within her hearing, for he would not have discussed such matters with her. “There was an old coaching inn in the Banning side of my husband’s family, but I believe it has been out of business for some years.”

“Eight years, to be exact.” Mr. Forbes gave her an ironic smile. “And that is fortunate for you, Mrs. Hollis, or the bank would likely be seizing it now as well. But truthfully, the property is useless to us. We informed Dr. Hollis of that fact two years ago when he offered it as payment for some of his debts.”

“You see,” he went on, crossing his knees, “the railways have cut the lifelines of hundreds of coaching inns. It was the Severn Valley Railroad that affected the two in Gresham when it bypassed the village by some twelve miles. We researched the
Larkspur
—that is the name of the inn—when your husband made the offer to us. It would be futile to open it up for business again, because the inn that is still functioning there, the
Bow and Fiddle
, is barely making a go of it.”

Julia let out a relieved breath, the tenements of Saint Giles fading from her mind. “You mean … we can live there?”

“It belongs to you, so you may do with it as you like. I don’t suppose your husband sold it privately, or he would have used some of the money to prevent foreclosure.”

“We’re aware that you have no solicitor, Mrs. Hollis,” the older gentleman said. “Therefore I’m not certain if all the necessary papers have been filed. But we will be happy to have one of our bank solicitors look into that for you. I must caution you not to expect a palace, though. The inn has been shuttered up for eight years.”

A frightening thought occurred to Julia and threatened the feeble hope that had just been presented to her. “But how will we live? I have no skills beyond needlepoint.”
That, and hostessing the occasional dinner party
, she thought with bitter self-recrimination. She looked down at her slender hands, of which she’d always been so proud. A lifetime of pampered living and applications of imported cremes had kept them soft and white. Now their fragile beauty seemed to mock her.
I’ve never had to answer my own door, brush my own hair, or brew a pot of tea.

She realized that Mr. Waldegrave was speaking, giving answer to her question. “Gresham has several dairy farms, Mrs. Hollis, and a thriving cheese factory. The railway hasn’t hurt those businesses at all. I’m certain you’ll have no trouble hiring on.”

“Hiring on?” she echoed, staring down again at her useless hands. Who would hire someone who’d never worked a day in her life?

Mr. Forbes must have sensed the panic in Julia’s thoughts, for he leaned forward and added gently, “They won’t expect you to know what to do on your first day, Mrs. Hollis. They’ll train you.”

“Yes,” Julia whispered. “Of course.”

“No doubt your son could find a position as well,” Mr. Waldegrave said, avoiding her eyes.

She took in a sharp breath. “He’s only thirteen, Mr. Waldegrave.”

“It is not rare for children to have to help their families. I myself was apprenticed at the age of twelve.”

Never!
she thought, while a more desperate side of her argued,
Would you have him starve instead? How much can one woman earn at a cheese factory?

A wave of nausea swept through Julia, bringing a clammy chill to her skin. Closing her eyes, she folded her arms tightly to her chest and waited for it to pass.
Just let me die right here and now
.

“Mrs. Hollis?”

She opened her eyes and gave Mr. Forbes, who was staring at her with brow furrowed, a somber nod. And since there seemed to be no point in belaboring the situation any further, she pushed herself to her feet and reached for the bell cord with trembling fingers. “Thank you for your concern and advice, gentlemen. We will comply with the new owner’s wishes.”

The men got to their feet as well, looking guiltily relieved that the visit was over and they could return to their stoical duties on Threadneedle Street. When the butler entered the room, Julia said, “Will you please show these gentlemen to the jewel safe, Jensen?”

There was a hesitation so fractional that only someone who had lived in the same house with Jensen would have caught it. “Yes, Mrs. Hollis,” he replied.

Mr. Forbes frowned miserably. “Mrs. Hollis, I wish there were some other way….”

“Apparently there isn’t, Mr. Forbes,” Julia told him. “At least we seem to have a place to live.”

When they were gone, she walked unsteadily down the hallway to Philip’s study. She could picture him seated in the leather chair behind his desk. His medical books stood neatly arranged upon shelves lining one wall, and it struck Julia to wonder if they would be auctioned with the rest of the household furnishings.
I hope someone burns them!
she thought, bitterness rising like bile in her throat.
Why didn’t you tell me about the debts, Philip? Did you think that the problem would just go away? Were you afraid we wouldn’t love you anymore?

“That’s why it hurts so much,” she half-sobbed, reaching out to touch the onyx paperweight on her husband’s desk. Philip had professed to love his family. Had these blows come from a stranger or enemy, they would have been far less devastating to the heart. Perhaps he
had
loved them. A lump welled up in her throat.
But not as much as he loved gambling
.

She had to leave this room at once, for recriminations were a luxury she could ill afford at the moment. From the corridor Julia turned to give the study one last look before the door clicked shut. She knew she would never open it again.

As she walked back up the corridor she paused at the foot of the staircase, seized by an almost overwhelming desire to run upstairs and take her children in her arms. If she could only hold them tightly enough, as a mother hen tucks her brood under her wings, surely no ill could befall them. She fought against the compulsion. She had to appear strong for their sakes, and never in her life had she felt so weak. Returning to the drawing room, she paced the carpet like a prisoner in solitary confinement.

They’ve been through so much already,
she thought.
How can I tell them that they’re living in a house that is no longer theirs? That everything familiar to them is about to be taken away?

Impossible!
The weight of it all threatened to crush her, and she flung herself into a chair and began to weep against one of the padded arms. “God, where are you?” she whimpered.

Chapter 3

Sometime later Julia heard the drawing room door open over the sound of her own moaning. She opened one swollen eye and blinked away the haze of tears. It was Jensen, regarding her curiously.

“Would madam care for my pocket handkerchief?” he asked from a respectful distance.

She lifted a hand to show him a crumpled scarf she’d pulled from the top of the chair.

“Shall I ring for a maid to accompany madam to her room?”

“No,” she rasped through a raw throat.

“Some tea, then?” There was a strange helplessness in his voice now, as if he weren’t quite sure if he should leave or stay.

“No. Thank you.”

“Very well then, madam,” he said. After watching her for another few seconds, he turned slowly to leave.

“Wait, please.” Julia eased herself to sit up straight in the chair, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose again. “I should talk some things over with you. Do you mind?”

With an “as you wish, Mrs. Hollis,” he inclined his head toward her, his expression once again unreadable.

“I suppose you’re aware that the children and I will have to leave this house.”

He did not deny that he’d listened at the door. Philip had often joked about it, declaring that spying was the reason Jensen knew more about the goings-on in this house than anyone else. “Yes, Mrs. Hollis.”

“Do the other servants know about …?”

Mercifully, he answered her question before she had to finish it.

“Dr. Hollis was careful to conceal his … recreational activities from everyone in the house.”

You mean, from everyone but you,
Julia thought, barely able to stand the sight of the butler now. But she could not manage the house without him, so she swallowed her resentment and said, “The new owner is going to send over enough money to keep the house going for ten days. But is there enough money left in the household account now for our train and coaching fare to Shropshire?” She thought about Mr. Deems and wished she’d not been so hasty in handing over the fifteen pounds. No doubt it was wasted in a card game last night.