Madam, your obedient, he said, sweeping her a low bow. You find me somewhat dishevelled. I was not expecting company.
It is no matter, my lord. I had to come.
Oh. He had always liked Freddies mother and could not bring himself to be rude to her. What had happened had certainly not been her fault and she must have suffered greatly at the loss of her husband. Pray, go on.
It is the matter of the letter I received from your lawyer. I assume it was written at your dictation.
It was.
I know you have every right to ask us to leave and I do not dispute that, but a month is so little time to find somewhere else to live. Could you not find it in your heart to extend that? Your father, the late Earl, said we could stay as long as we wished.
My father is no more.
Yes. I should have offered my condolences. Forgive me.
She was almost grovelling and it pained him to see it. You see, she went on when his only reply was a slight inclination of the head, I have two daughters as well as a young son of twelve still at home and I must find some way of supporting them.
You support them? Why not Freddie? Surely it is up to him?
Freddie? She looked astonished. Freddie left home at the same time as you did and we have not seen or heard from him since. Did you not know?
It was his turn to be surprised. No, I did not. I assumed
Your father thought it would be for the best. He came to see me. He told me that, as a magistrate, he was duty bound to arrest anyone breaking the law, but he couldnt bring himself to have you arrested and was determined to send you away. He said the Countess was bowed down with grief and it would not do for her to see my son about the village after you had gone. He was determined Freddie must be sent away too. Besides, Freddie himself was so distraught, blaming himself for what happened, that he was eager to be gone.
I am sorry, he said softly. So his father had threatened them with the law. I knew none of this.
But the late Earl was a kind and generous man and he knew I had no means of support except my husbands investments, which were by no means large enough to allow us to find a new home and keep us in comfort. He offered me the dower house and, for the sake of my children, I agreed. Except that we did not know whether Freddie was alive or dead, we have been happy there and
Have you not seen your son in all that time?
No, my lord. Oh, I knew from the beginning we could not stay forever. Sooner or later you would come home and everything would change. But I hoped it would not be until after my daughters were safely wed. Susan married Sir Godfrey Mallards son some time ago and Margaret has decided to devote her life to other peoples childrenshe is governess to the Duke of Graftons children. But Lydia and Annabelle are still at home
Lydia, he said, smiling faintly. Shes the one with the russet hair and the mischievous smile, isnt she?
Anne smiled back, realising that he was not such an ogre and was civil enough to listen to her. But then, if he was his fathers son, he would be. Yes, she is eighteen now and, though perhaps I should not say it, or even think it, she is the most comely of my children and this with a little deprecating laugh the most stubborn and independent.
Yes, I remember, he said. She used to follow me and Freddie about and try to do everything we did. We tried to shake her off and she would disappear for a little while, but then, when we least expected it, she would be back, dogging our footsteps.
She is past all that, my lord, and ripe for marriage. I think, in a very little time, I shall be able to announce her engagement to Sir Arthur Thomas-Smith.
Sir Arthur! he exclaimed, his sympathy going out to the child he had once known in spite of who she was. The brief glimpse he had had of the gentleman the previous evening had struck a chord in his memory. He had met him somewhere before but, for the life of him, he could not recall where. He certainly could not place the name, nor that high-pitched voice. Thomas-Smith, not an aristocratic name, not a memorable name, but the face, that was different. He never forgot a face. I believe I met Sir Arthur last evening, a portly gentleman of middle years.
Yes. He is devoted to Lydia and will curb her exuberance, you may be sure. And he has the means to support her. Annabelle, who is very pretty and biddable, will soon find a suitor, especially as Sir Arthur has indicated he will provide her with a small dowry
I understand. He understood very well. Lydia was to be sacrificed. When he had last seen her, she had been no more than a child, a nuisance to two young men bent on enjoying themselves. But even then there had been something about her that was different. Independent, her mother had described her. Would such a one marry a man old enough to be her father? Well, it was not his business.
Then you will give us a little more time? she asked, watching his face.
He looked at the woman sitting so still on his drawing room sofa and, though he could not even begin to forgive her son for forcing him into that duel, and he was equally certain she did not forgive him for what he had done, he could afford to be magnanimous, especially as Freddie was not at home. Somehow, the knowledge that his erstwhile friend had suffered the same fate as he had in some measure mitigated his raw hatred, though he would not go so far as to say it had disappeared totally. You could not harbour the resentment he had for over ten years and lose it in the space of a short interview with a plausible woman. But she was a mother, and knowing what his own mother had suffered set him thinking. Very well. You may stay until Lydia is married. And I hope she may be happy.
Do you mean that?
I am not in the habit of saying things I do not mean, madam. He had done what he could, given the circumstances, and he would take care to avoid the path that led to the dower house until they had gone.
She rose and curtsied. Then I thank you and I shall convey your good wishes to Lydia and Annabelle. He bowed in response and a moment later she had glided noiselessly from the room and he was alone once more.
He must be going soft, he told himself as he strode upstairs to change into something more suitable for a visit to Chelmsford. He had been told there was a builder there who could do the repairs to his tenants houses at a reasonable price, and the sooner they were put in hand the better. Even if he decided not to stay in the village, he could not lease or sell the estate as it was.
Was he going to stay? he asked himself as his well-sprung coach took him through the lanes of Colston where the leaves were just appearing on the trees and the air was balmy with the promise of spring. It was not the family coach, which like everything else had been neglected, but the one he had bought in London when he landed from India. Could he pick up his life where he had left it ten years before, and carry on as if nothing had happened? But how could he?
For a start, he could no longer expect to marry a dukes daughter. He had been sufficiently in touch with the London gossip, even on the other side of the world, to know of the advantageous marriage Juliette had made only a year after his exile began. But he ought to marry or what was the point of coming home? Who would have him, given that the scandal seemed not to have died? He was immensely rich, he could take his pick. He smiled. That unknown beauty he had met in Chelmsford, perhaps. She had been with Sir Arthur last nighthis daughter, no doubt. No, he contradicted himself at once. If he were to marry her, it might make Lydia Fostyn his mother-in-law and the idea of that was laughable