Fenella J. Miller (3 page)

‘Mrs Green, could you send the girls to clear the dining room? I’m afraid we didn’t eat the desserts. However, I’m sure they can be served again tomorrow. ‘

Leaving the housekeeper to return to the small group of women around the table and bring them up to date with what news there was, Eliza continued her journey to the back door. It had been left open, allowing a chill wind to whistle along the corridor. She shivered and drew her cashmere wrap closer around her shoulders. Sarah had gone out in sandals and without a wrap of any sort. The flimsy muslin gown she was wearing would be no protection against the cold April evening.

She was debating whether to gather up her skirt and attempt to cross the cobbles when she heard Edmund’s voice, and that off Fred Smith their coachman. Excellent! There was no need for her to venture outside. She waited anxiously in the minimum shelter of the overhanging porch-way wondering why her brother had arrived so precipitously.      

Eliza watched the archway leading to the stables and was soon rewarded by the sight of her brother hurrying towards the house. His caped riding coat was draped around his sister’s shoulders and he had his arm about her waist ready to lift her over puddles when necessary. She was staring at his mud streaked face, searching for a sign, when he raised his eyes. Her heart sunk at the look of desperation she saw there.

       Eliza knew without him saying any more what he had come to tell them. She had warned him time and time again to stay out of the gambling hells; that being a man about town did not mean he had to join in all the debauchery and gaming that took place. She knew her words of advice had fallen on deaf ears and like so many before him he had believed in his skill, and thought that nothing bad could happen to someone whose heart was pure and motives were good.

       ‘Welcome, Edmund.’ She raised her hand, warning him not to speak just then. ‘Your news can wait. I believe that I have guessed why you’re here; there is no need for anyone else to know at this point.’

       He understood the reference to his sister. ‘Denver is following behind with my trappings, but I’m famished, I haven’t eaten since I don’t know when. Have you finished dinner?’

Eliza, in spite of her fears, smiled. ‘Yes, I’m afraid you’re too late. However, I’m certain Mrs Turner will find you something substantial. There was plenty left.’

She spoke to Jane, who was hovering behind. ‘Jane, go in and ask Cook to send up a tray immediately’

‘Liza, Edmund’s coat is lovely and warm and he lifted me over the muck so I haven’t spoilt my dress hardly at all.’

‘Good girl. Now, run along upstairs with Jane, and tell Grandmamma and Mama that Edmund is going to change his clothes and eat before he joins them in the drawing-room. Can you remember all that?’

Sarah smiled happily. ‘I can do that. I can remember everything and tell Mama about Edmund.’

       She watched her sister skip back along the corridor and, as always seeing a beautiful young woman behaving like a child sent shivers of apprehension through her. Her sister was so vulnerable; she wished she had been born plain, and then a lack of intelligence would not have mattered as no one would have given her a second glance.

 However, already there were several young men in the vicinity who believed they were enamoured of her sister and professed themselves unbothered by her disability. One of them, the squire’s son, Edward Masters, had told her it was part of Sarah’s charm.

       Pushing such thoughts aside, she turned to her brother. ‘I shall come up to your chambers with you. You can tell me exactly why you have arrived like this once we are private.’

* * * *

Eliza paced her brother’s sitting room, anxiously waiting for him to re-emerge from his bedchamber in clean clothes. How long did it take, for heaven’s sake, to wash one’s face and change one’s outer garments? She heard the communicating door opening slowly and turned, clenching her fists, waiting to hear just how bad things were.

       ‘Eliza, I’m afraid it is far worse than even you could possibly imagine.’ She watched him closely and saw the glitter of tears in his eyes. ‘I’ve lost everything. No, please don’t interrupt me. I don’t just mean my inheritance, I mean
everything
. The estate, this house, the farms, your dowry. It’s all gone.’

Eliza felt her dinner threaten to return and clenched her teeth until her stomach settled.

She collapsed into a convenient chair; ashen faced and stared at her brother. ‘Edmund, it cannot be? Tell me, not everything? Are we destitute? What about the smaller estate, Hockley House, surely that’s not gone as well?’

       ‘Everything. I lost it all to Lord Wydale. His friend, Mr Reed, warned me not to become involved with him, but I ignored his advice. ‘

       He sank into a similar chair and dropping his head in his hands. She had no sympathy. He was a young man, he could join the army go to the Americas; it was not he who would have to endure the bleak prospect that faced the women in his family. She waited for him to recover, too angry to speak.

       He raised his head. ‘It could have been far worse. We have three months; it would have been three days, but Mr Reed persuaded him to allow us at least that much time to try and come about.’

He watched her, his expression eager, reminding her of the many times she had pulled him out of scrapes in the past. He had come home to her believing that she would be able to find a solution, after all she had always managed it before.

Chapter Four

Eliza felt despair overwhelm her. It was as if the news had sent her spinning back to the time she was facing the double disaster of the death of her beloved father and her fiancé. They had nothing left if Hockley House had gone as well. She gazed, unseeing, at her brother unable to offer him the comfort and reassurance he craved. She watched him drop his head again in despair. Even a man full-grown needed support and someone to guide him through the perils of being a landowner in an uncaring society.

       Watching her brother’s shaking shoulders, seeing him unmanned, made her realize that the fate of the family rested upon those shoulders unless she pulled herself together, and tried to give him some comfort. If she was unable to offer even a semblance of a resolution, her brother might do something foolish. She had heard recently that the eldest son of a baron in the next county had blown his brains out on finding himself in a similar situation.

       She blinked away the tears of self-pity and straightened. They had three months; maybe a miracle would happen and they could find the money to repay this massive debt. She stood up, intending walk across and offer her brother the comfort he needed, but stopped. Something her father had told her when he gave his permission her to become engaged to Dickon, something he had said that had seemed odd at the

time, but now made absolute sense.

Papa had said that whatever happened she would never be destitute. If she was widowed, left alone in a foreign country, all she had to do was contact the family lawyers in Colchester and they would provide her with what she needed. When she had asked him to explain exactly what he meant, he had smiled and kissed her on the brow. She recalled his words exactly.

       ‘My darling girl I have invested half your dowry in a scheme that you might disapprove of. However, it will be a lucrative one; if ever you are in desperate need put your principles aside and be grateful the funds are there.’

       She had pressed him to explain, but he had refused. ‘I pray that you will never need to access these monies; then they will stay until you are in a position to be able to give them to charity. Forget about this now and enjoy the moment; you have all your life ahead of you. It does my old heart good to see you so happy.’

       Three weeks later her father had left and she had never seen him again. Until this moment she had forgotten all about his cryptic comments. Eliza had no idea how much money there might be in this mysterious fund, or what he had invested in that he believed she would not like, but at the moment any money would be a godsend.

       ‘Edmund, it’s just possible that there are funds in my name that this scoundrel cannot touch. I have no idea how much it might be, but Papa said if ever I needed them there would be enough to keep me comfortable.’

       Edmund sat up rubbing his eyes. ‘Why have you never mentioned this before, Liza?

Where is this money? How can it be in your name, you were younger than I am now when Papa drowned.’

       ‘It doesn’t matter
how
, Edmund, but how much. Wash your face and pull yourself together. On no account must we give the slightest intimation to mother and grandmother that a disaster is about to strike. Is that clear?’

       Edmund stood up, his colour returning. ‘I understand exactly. We must protect them until we’re certain how matters stand.’ Unexpectedly he smiled, looking more like the younger brother she adored.

‘What shall I tell them downstairs? How shall I explain my arriving in such a pelter?’

       ‘That’s easy, Edmund. We shall tell them a little of the truth. Tell them that you have lost a good deal of money and have no funds left to spend gallivanting around town. We must say that you are on a repairing lease until the next quarter. Make sure that Denver supports your story when he arrives.’

       The young man nodded, obviously convinced that things would be all right. Eliza did not have the heart to tell him that her father had never expected the money to buy back the estate; it had been intended to support her, and any children she might have produced from her union. She was certain there would not be enough money to pay off her brother’s debts, but she was not about to tell him that. Time enough when she knew exactly how much there was. She would contact the lawyers first thing in the morning.

* * * *

Eliza decided Edmund should ride to Colchester with her summons, believing her brother would be better occupied doing this than kicking his heels around the house imagining the worst. Her mother and grandmother had accepted the partially true explanation of Edmund’s unexpected return with remarkable equanimity.

* * * *

‘A young man must sew his wild oats before he settles down, my dear, it is better he does so now, before he has the responsibility of the estate to worry about.’

       Eliza had somehow summoned up a smile to answer. ‘You’re right of course, Mama, and it will be lovely having him with us until he has come about.’

       They were sowing barley in the top field today and she had promised to oversee the job herself. Her man-of-business was busy interviewing new tenants for Cuckoo Farm and was unable to attend to the matter himself. Eliza dressed as she always did when working in fields - a pair of specially made britches, thick cotton shirt and her brother’s old top boots. She always wore a coat of her father’s to complete her outfit.

Pulling out a cap from an inside pocket she had stuffed it in the last time she’d worn these clothes, she put it on her head. Although it was now the third week of April, and the trees in many places were in full leaf, there was still a wintry nip to the air first thing in the morning. She rummaged around in her closet until she found a warm muffler and tied it in a loose knot around her neck.

       Jane appeared with her charge beside her as she was about to leave. Sarah laughed when she saw what Eliza was wearing.

‘You look like a scarecrow, Liza. Can I come with you? If you’re going to chase the birds away from the fields I should love to help.’

       Eliza felt a moment’s doubt. Had she allowed her eccentric dress to go too far? Hastily she returned to her bedchamber to check in one of the pier gilt mirrors that stood either side of mantelshelf. She had to admit she didn’t look like the daughter of a gentleman, in fact she didn’t look like the daughter of anyone. Dressed as she was she could be mistaken not for a scarecrow, but certainly for a farm worker, or possibly the farmer himself. She viewed herself from every side to make sure that none of her abundant curves were obvious beneath her disguise.

       She might look like a young man dressed as she was, but at least no one could say she was showing any part of her anatomy in an immodest way. The top boots covered her from ankle to knee, the britches were not tight and her father’s frockcoat fell loosely to her knees. The voluminous waistcoat buttoned across her ample bosom leaving nothing to suggest she was anything other than she wished to appear.

       ‘I’m sorry, Sarah darling, you must stay behind today. It’s far too cold to be out. I thought you were going to help Cook make Edmund a welcome home cake?’

       Sarah, easily distracted, nodded vigorously. ‘I am, I am. And Jane and I are going to bake buns as well, aren’t we, Jane?’

       Jane smiled. ‘Indeed we are, Miss Sarah, and Mrs Turner is waiting for us in the kitchen this very minute.’

* * * *

Eliza was riding her father’s old hunter whilst her own mare was in foal. Sampson, a sixteen-hand chestnut gelding, well past his prime, but would still be considered too much of a handful for most women. Riding astride, as she always did, he was well within her capabilities.

She decided to take the longer route, through the park and across the woods, as it was some time since Sampson had been given the opportunity to stretch his legs and take a few jumps in his stride. She needed the extra time to think about what she was going to do to save her family from ruin. Edmund, as usual, had handed over the responsibility to her and seemed to believe that all would be well.      

Lost in thought, Eliza let Sampson choose the path; the way was well known to both of them and included no surprises. She ducked her head automatically as they cantered through the trees and tightened her grip and leant forward when he took a hedge or ditch.

       It was unfortunate that Lord Wydale and Mr Reed had decided to walk around the boundaries of the Grove House estate that morning. When the huge chestnut landed in front of them, spraying them both with mud and water from the previous night’s rain, a roar of rage jerked Eliza violently back to the present.