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Authors: Judith Cutler

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I laughed gently. ‘So I may ask you if you chose the name Chamberlain for the reason I surmise: because
chamberlain
is a synonym for steward?’

‘Why will you not leave me alone? But you were kind to…to Miss Southey, and I honour you for that.’ He managed a painful smile.

‘Anne is your daughter, is she not?’ I asked gently, at last catching a shade of resemblance.

‘She is. And she disgraced me! Her bastard child… I spent everything I earned on her education, Parson, sent her to the most exclusive seminaries. She was fitted to be better than a governess, by talent if not birth.’

‘Indeed she was. She is a fine musician.’

‘And what does she do? I find her a position at a great house and she lets a grand young man…get her with child. My granddaughter. The one who is even now afraid of me.’

‘Nay, nay, she is not afraid of you. Her
parents
fear losing her to you. There is a difference. Did you once lodge with them?’

‘Not I, but Anne. They were not so prosperous then. They let out rooms to respectable young women, and it was there that Anne went when she discovered that the handsome young visitor to her employers’ house…that she was carrying his child. When they discovered my daughter’s condition, I expected the Larwoods to throw her out, but they suggested…They had been childless for years. Perhaps they were heaven sent. I knew they were kind and honest. That is how my granddaughter comes to be in their hands. But the price was their total secrecy. Something I insisted on too.’ His eyes closed, and I feared I was losing him. But he forced them open again. ‘How did you find out? She changed her name…’ His breath came short and shallow.

‘I guessed. Your hair is snow-white now, but that often happens when it was very dark in one’s youth. Like your daughter’s, and your granddaughter’s. She is a good and pretty child who sings like an angel. Your daughter gave her up and returned to her profession?’

He nodded.

‘A new employer would ask for references. How could she provide them?’

‘I wrote them. As if from my then employer, the Earl of Consett. The Bramhalls were too stupid to question them. But you will quite see that when you asked me to send for them I had to make sure they did not arrive. With these false papers she found a post with the Bramhalls. Believe me, I would never have put her name forward had I known that she would have to endure the insolence and viciousness that you have seen. And such an irony…such a vicious coincidence…that they insisted on visiting the house of the very—’ He stopped, coughing blood.

‘Do I infer that it was Hugo, now Lord Chase, who seduced her?’ My heart wrung with compassion. ‘So when you heard that he was still alive you must have wanted to everything in your power to prevent their meeting.’

‘I wanted him to die in the same gutter as he left her.’

‘But why kill the messenger? Henry was innocent of anything except kindness.’ I regarded him closely.

He shook his head. ‘You know that I am a calm man, Parson, but when I lose my temper I fear for the consequences. I could not bear the thought of such a man inheriting all I had worked for. And so…I am sorry about that lad, too,’ he added. ‘I was like one possessed. Parson,’ he groaned, grasping my hand and looking me in the eye, ‘it was I who killed that man. Can I ever hope for forgiveness?’

‘Let me give you Communion, Mr Furnival, so that you may meet your Maker with your spirit refreshed. You have done wrong, and He, not your fellow men, will Judge you. But He is Merciful, and sent His Son to die upon the Cross that you may have eternal life…’

The notice sent to the
Morning Post
announced that the marriage would be a quiet one. It was indeed. The church was still almost empty as it awaited the bride. There were very few villagers standing along the path from the Hall to the church, and those that were had the air of idling away a pleasant spring morn rather than awaiting an event involving the Quality.

After a slow start, the relationship had blossomed so swiftly that I was hard put to credit it. Gossip declared that Sir Marcus wanted to get his sister off his hands before he was put to the expense of his daughters’ coming-out ball, which Lady Chase had gently but firmly suggested should take place at his own London home. Although the Bramhalls had found every excuse to stay on at the Hall, by the end of the week they would at last have decamped. I understood that Mrs Hansard and Mrs Sandys had joked bleakly about counting the spoons. Mrs Sandys had been lucky to keep her post, but Lady Chase had considered that life at the Hall would be insupportable with not just a new steward having to learn her
ways but a new housekeeper too. Mrs Sandys had swiftly realised that an interest in her ladyship’s charitable concerns was a means of more permanently establishing future employment, and was now busily promoting a scheme distributing to villagers’ cottage gardens spare seeds cadged from the Hall gardeners.

Willum had already become a firm fixture in the Hansard household, where he was reluctantly applying himself to the task of learning skills in one year what other more fortunate children acquire in five. As yet he evinced not the slightest interest in learning Edmund’s medical skills, but attached himself to Matthew, daring all to laugh at the concept of a one-legged gamekeeper.

Jem too still enjoyed his work with horses, but was applying himself to extra reading. He had already taken it upon himself to visit other villages’ model schools, and he too now occasionally joined Lady Chase’s charitable committee, though the wedding preparations kept her ladyship away from many meetings.

The bride was late. It was her privilege, of course.

I tried to keep my thoughts from her. I fiddled with my bands, looking about my beloved church, decked for the occasion with daffodils and more exotic blooms from her ladyship’s succession houses. At last I exchanged a wry smile with Dr Hansard, who had volunteered to be best man. Nonetheless, I thought of Lady Dorothea’s first visit to the church, the evenings of music we had shared – even the time when she had played for our watch night service. She had greeted the returning Lord Chase coolly enough. I was, I admit, surprised. Despite the uneven growth of hair, and considerable scarring abut his neck, he was a personable
enough young man. One could imagine how attractive he had been to the young governess whose life he had ruined. But Lady Dorothea had flirted more and more insistently with me, until I believed our understanding had reached the point when I should apply to Sir Marcus for permission to address his sister.

I did so after dinner one evening.

Sir Marcus was waiting for me when I quitted the drawing room.

‘It gives me great pleasure to hear you and my sister perform at the fortepiano together,’ he began, drawing me into the library and closing the door, ‘but you must know, Campion, that I am looking for a better marriage for her than to a country parson. A lady of her looks, accomplishments and birth should be looking for a far more distinguished alliance. Do I make myself clear?’

I felt the blood rush to my face. Whether it was anger or embarrassment I could not tell. ‘I assure you, sir, that any intentions—’

‘I see that I did not make myself clear. You are, Mr Campion, to have no intentions. Good evening to you.’ He rang the bell for the footman, who contrived not to look astonished that such a regular visitor was suddenly subject so such formality.

And within three days the engagement between Hugo, Lord Chase, and Lady Dorothea Bramhall was announced.

The following morning I sought out Bess, still the young man’s nurse – and more. She seemed cheerful enough. ‘He’s already made a will naming this little feller.’ She patted her belly. ‘Oh, yes! I’m increasing, Parson. Having Lanky’s brat. And he was conceived with love, not out of duty, so he’ll be a
happier kid than any of hers.’ She jerked her head towards the Hall.

‘But he is not going to marry you,’ I said sadly.

‘Lor’ bless you, Parson, it don’t bother me! Why should it? It’s not what my sort are used to, and I’ve done better than most. He’s promised me – or rather, this nipper of his – a nice little cottage on one of his estates. He ain’t half rolling in lard, Parson.’

‘If you are happy, he has done exactly what he ought, and I honour him for it,’ I declared, though I thought I detected the hand of his compassionate mother, who had at last managed to overcome her repugnance of Bess – but only now that her son was firmly promised to another. As I turned to leave, I could not forbear to ask, ‘And Lady Dorothea – what does she say?’

‘Have to ask her that yourself. ’Cept I heard as how you was sweet on her, which makes is a bit awkward for you, don’t it? I reckon a decent geezer like you can do better nor that. It’s different for the nobs, though, ain’t it? Have to marry to suit their families.’

Hardly knowing that I spoke out loud, I said, ‘She is prepared to marry in those conditions?’ I was aghast. ‘And he…?’

‘He thinks he’s in love with her. But I’ve been talking to that nice old biddy what guards the gates, and she says she’s such a cold fish…Well, I knows what I knows, Parson, and I’ll say no more ’cos it’s you what they’ve got to make their vows to, ain’t it? And I reckon you’d be all squeamish if you didn’t think they meant them. So all I’ll say is that Lanky’ll make a good husband and father. So there. And that’s the last you’ll get from me. Except to say you might christen my lad when he’s born.’

I bowed, and found myself smiling, despite the turmoil within. ‘I shall do so with the greatest pleasure, Bess. And if I were you I would ask Mother Powell to stand as his sponsor. She is as kind a woman as you’ll meet.’ And, what I did not add, was that if Mother Powell approved of Bess, she would not find it so hard to survive in her very unusual – and many would think deplorable – circumstances.

 

How could Lady Dorothea consent to the marriage, knowing that her husband’s love child was not to be tucked away in an obscure corner but living openly on his land? She must know that her husband was merely infatuated with her, that this was to be a simple dynastic marriage. I sighed – a lady whom I had wanted for own my true wife, agreeing to such a match!

Mrs Hansard happened to drop by, with a recipe, she said, for Mrs Trent. In the event she tucked her arm in mine and drew me into the vegetable garden, from which the gardener had mysteriously absented himself.

‘You must understand that for some families marriage is still a business, Tobias.’

‘I think that they prefer to call it duty,’ I said. ‘However, my sisters and brothers have been fortunate enough to follow where their hearts, not their purses, lay. And I hoped that such – such
prostitution
– was a thing of the past. Maria, think of it – a woman of sense, of taste, marrying a man knowing that his heart is engaged elsewhere.’

‘I gather that her fortune has diminished to the point where she had to choose marriage to him or an application for a position as companion or governess. All those fine dresses, all that expensive music, Tobias – within the month, knowing that the family were no longer her ladyship’s guests, the duns
would have been at the Bramhalls’ door. So understand and pity her if you can.’

‘I can. I do. And for Bess’s sake, I am pleased. If she had a choice. For once in her life it would have been good if she could choose.’

‘And you, dear Tobias – what of you and your choices?’ 

 

As the little band in the gallery struck up, I reflected that, God willing, I had made my choice. Until he called me elsewhere, I would be content with what He had so graciously bestowed upon me.

I cleared my throat.

‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God…’

Prize-winning short-story writer J
UDITH
C
UTLER
is the author of twenty-five contemporary novels, including the acclaimed Fran Harman series. Though this is only her second historical novel, her historical short stories have appeared in magazines and anthologies all over the world.

Judith has taught Creative Writing at Birmingham University and run writing courses elsewhere, including a maximum-security prison and an idyllic Greek island. She lives in the Cotswolds with her husband, fellow Allison & Busby author Edward Marston.

 

www.judithcutler.co.uk

T
HE
T
OBIAS
C
AMPION SERIES

 

The Keeper of Secrets
Shadow of the Past

 

T
HE
C
HIEF
S
UPERINTENDENT
F
RANCES
H
ARMAN SERIES

 

Cold Pursuit
Life Sentence

 

T
HE
J
OSIE
W
ELFORD SERIES

 

The Chinese Takeout
The Food Detective

 

S
TAND-ALONES

 

Drawing the Line
Scar Tissue

Allison & Busby Limited
13 Charlotte Mews
London W1T 4EJ
www.allisonandbusby.com

Hardback published in Great Britain in 2008.
Paperback edition published in 2009.
This ebook edition first published in 2012.

Copyright © 2008 by
J
UDITH
C
UTLER

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978–0–7490–1172–7

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