All I Have to Give (29 page)

Now, looking down on the pale, crumpled form of her beloved aunt, Eloise felt guilt at even putting her aunt in such a position, knowing how frail she had become.

‘Give her air, please!’ the commanding voice of her Uncle Christopher boomed out. Holding a distinct, doctor-in-command tone, the order didn’t offend, but made everyone move
back. Lady Davina Fortescue even took hold of the door and wafted it backwards and forwards to create a draught. It was something Eloise would have expected her to command one of the servants to
do, rather than take on the task herself.

The seconds ticked away, each one deepening Eloise’s concern as she watched all of her uncle’s loving ministrations to revive Aunt Muriel have no effect. Gradually her face drained
of the little colour she had had and took on the look of white porcelain, making her rouge all the more obvious.

No one in the vicinity spoke. The music had stopped, and only the hushed tones of those who could not see what was happening could be heard.

The initial guilt Eloise felt had been banished by a deep fear that had taken its place. Her mind filled with prayers:
Dear God, no. Not Aunt Muriel. Please not Aunt Muriel!

Looking around and finding her parents close by, she read the same terror on their faces. Eloise looked back at the horror of the scene in front of her. Her uncle’s voice penetrated her
panicked mind.

‘No, Muriel, my darling, don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.’

Another voice took charge. It belonged to the Duke of Cumbria, who voiced what they all wanted to hear. ‘Tell us what to do, Christopher. Do we need an ambulance? Do you want us to help
you get Lady Muriel home? Can you treat her yourself? Just tell us what to do!’

If Eloise lived to be a hundred she knew at that moment she would never forget the words her uncle spoke, or his tone of utter despair. ‘It is too late. Oh God, my Muriel. My life. My
love.’ His sob ripped Eloise’s heart from her. He crumpled and lay beside the unmoving wax-like figure of his beloved wife. ‘My family, my family. My Edith missing, my sons in
danger, and now my darling Muriel gone.’ But nothing affected Eloise more than when his voice rose in pleading anger, ‘Why? Why? God, tell me, why?’

On the day that Eloise was meant to be giving out the hampers and gifts in the church hall of Rossworth village she stood looking into the gaping, dark hole of the family
crypt, set in the centre of the parish-church cemetery, next door to the hall.

The unreality of the situation hit her, as she saw Andrina’s coffin inside, still looking brand-new and sitting on a shelf above that of her grandmother. All the caskets were made of lead
and, apart from discolouring, hadn’t deteriorated. She could see several of her ancestors’ caskets from where she stood. Aunt Muriel’s casket was placed on a shelf at the back,
where there was room for one more.
Who will that be? Eventually there will be room for two there.

The surreal discussion that had taken place a few days ago, as the plans for this funeral were made, came back to her. Uncle Christopher had wanted Aunt Muriel in the Mellor family crypt, as
opposed to her own family one, so that he could lie near her after his own demise. Eloise’s father had agreed, but had expressed his concern that the crypt might not be big enough and that a
new one would have to be built for Christopher and his descendants. There hadn’t been any time to implement the plan, and so it had been agreed that Aunt Muriel should start her repose in
this crypt and then be moved to the new one when it was ready. Special permission had already been gained for this to happen.

The new crypt would be built on the plot of land that Eloise stood on. Andrina’s death had been just the start of this journey, she thought, as she wondered how many of them would still be
alive by the time this war ended. Although Andrina’s death hadn’t been due to the war, all of their lives were in danger because of it now: her cousins through direct action there, and
those of them at home through the Zeppelin bombing raids. Even Aunt Muriel’s death was, she felt, a consequence of the strain the war had put on her. Unbeknown to Eloise, her aunt had had a
weak heart, and the condition had been aggravated by her fear for the safety and welfare of her children, and Edith in particular.

Poor Edith would never see her mother again.
How will she bear it . . . ? But then, will we ever see Edith again? Somehow all hope of anything good happening in the future has deserted me
today.

As he stood next to her, Christian’s body shook with sobs and something told her he was having similar thoughts. She took his hand in hers. On his other side stood Uncle Christopher,
staring at the crypt in the same way she had been, his face telling of his heartbreak. On his right stood Douglas, who appeared not to feel anything, as his face was devoid of any expression. But
she knew his pain cut just as deeply into him as it did the rest of them. Douglas had always been like a closed, locked door – there was no getting through without the key. Sometimes, when
she had been much younger, she had seen it open when he’d played games with her and Andrina. She knew that behind what looked like an uncaring, serious young man lived a kind-hearted
soul.

Worry seeped into her as she watched him. Other discussions had centred on his inheritance and the fact that, being the male heir to Aunt Muriel’s family seat, Douglas would become the new
lord of the estate.

At that moment a figure in the shadows caught her eye. Jay!
Oh God, why hadn’t her father spoken up?

When she had spoken to Jay the day after they and the cortege had arrived, and after the carrying of Aunt Muriel’s coffin into the parish church, he was undecided about what to do. Whereas
he had been adamant that he would not stake his claim while Aunt Muriel was alive, he now felt differently. She had told her father this, but he had cautioned her that until Jay said one way or the
other what he wanted to do, the subject was best not broached.

Why do men think they know it all? Father could at least have talked to Jay!

How would Douglas feel, finding out he was not the rightful heir? How would he react to having the position and wealth that the title would bring him snatched away from him?

Douglas wasn’t materialistic, but he had been schooled in the responsibilities that he thought would be his; and he had been studious, even as a young boy, in preparing himself. He knew,
and had the respect of all the leaseholders of the farms belonging to the estate. Before the war he’d taken on his shoulders the setting-up of a monthly meeting of the tenants to discuss new
farming methods, and how they could implement them and share the cost as a team. He’d never liked London and had already made plans to live permanently in Hastleford Hall once the war was
over.

Jay moved out of the shadows and walked forward. Several of the family glanced at him. Looking at her father, who stood holding her mother’s arm a little to the left of her, Eloise saw a
look of shock and fear cross his face.

No one said anything, but an uncomfortable ripple of disapproval went through the mourners as Jay came and stood between her and her father. She didn’t dare look at him. The heavy wooden
door of the crypt was closed, and then came the grating, screeching sound of its outer gate, as it too was closed.

The click of the key being turned in the rusty lock made her tremble.

Life was never going to be the same again. Jay’s appearance had told her what his intentions were – intentions that would shake the foundations of everything she and her family had
come to expect.

What had happened so far had shaken the rock that her family, and that of her cousins, was built on. But what was to come – if Jay did declare himself – would surely crumble it.

Leicestershire, Christmas 1916
Rightful place

As the funeral party turned away from the family crypt, Jay took hold of Lady Eloise’s arm and turned her to face him. He could see that she was embarrassed and a little
afraid. He needed to see her face to know what she had to say. How he longed to hear her voice – any voice.

Sometimes, since Florrie had attacked him, he had heard sounds. They had frightened him at first, as he had no concept of what they were. Now he dreaded them coming, as they were high-pitched
zinging noises that drove him mad. They lasted for hours once they started. Unsure if they meant anything, he hadn’t told anyone about them and it was all he could do to try and cope with
them.

Lady Eloise’s mouth formed the words, ‘Not now, Jay. It is not an appropriate time.’

‘I can’t leave it, Lady Eloise. As is the custom, you will go back to the house now, to listen to the will being read. I cycled to Rugby the other day, as soon as I heard of Lady Mur
. . . my half-sister’s death. I contacted your family solicitor. I know of him as I’ve often posted letters for your father and have seen his address on envelopes. I told him my story.
He has looked into it and, just this morning, has verified it by talking to Doctor Henderson. He had no time to contact your father before the funeral, but will inform him the moment the family
arrives home. I needed you to know. I didn’t want it to be a shock to you. It is likely the rest of you won’t be told until you are gathered for the reading of the will. A will that is
null and void now, as the estate belongs to me and cannot be disposed of as my half-sister wished.

‘Why now, Jay? Couldn’t you have waited?’

‘No. I would never have revealed the truth whilst Lady Muriel was alive, but now I have to. If I don’t, there will never be a good time. I want what is rightfully mine.’

‘I can understand that. But when Douglas has just buried his mother? It can’t be right.’

Jay shrank away from the look she gave him. Her expression showed disgust. Maybe he should have consulted her. But when he did, she did nothing. She only wanted to save her aunt from shock and
humiliation. Oh yes, he could understand that, but right is right. It was right that he was the owner of Hastleford Hall and the estate, and not Douglas; and that he, Jay Tattumby – or
whatever his real name was – was the new lord.

Lady Eloise had been silent for a moment. She let out a release of breath. ‘I will speak to my father. Look, he is waiting for me. I have to go.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘No, you can’t!’

‘Then I will make my way to the Hall and wait outside. The solicitor has told me to attend.’

‘How could he do that, without first consulting my father? Please, Jay, give me time to speak to him. Please.’

‘You will have time to speak to him on the way. The solicitor told me that the wake is to be held at Hastleford Hall, my ancestral home. I will cycle straight over there now. You will all
be there before I arrive. This will give your father time to inform everyone, so that it isn’t a shock at the formal will-reading.’

‘Jay! You have been planning this? Why do it in such a cruel way? Why didn’t the solicitor ring my father and warn him what was happening, so that he could prepare my uncle and my
cousins?’

‘No, I have been left with no alternative. At first I just had a quest to learn the truth. The undeniable truth. I . . . You knew that. Didn’t you speak to your father?’

‘I – I, yes, I did. Look, I’m sorry, Jay. In all fairness to you, my father should have done something, but as you were not willing to declare yourself whilst Aunt Muriel was
alive and none of us dreamed she would die as soon as this, my father can’t be blamed for not acting.’

‘No, and I can’t be blamed for acting the moment she did die. At least if the family had been made aware as soon as she died, it would have helped. What was your father thinking
of?’

‘What does anyone think of on a sudden death? The shock is—’

‘It was a shock to me, too. A tremendous shock. You see, though it was unlikely to happen, I had hoped that if Lady Muriel was told about me, we could have got to know one another and
arrangements could have been put in place. I would have signed something to say that nothing should change until after her death, other than my acceptance into the family. I have been let down
– ignored by your father. He should have acted once he knew the truth, even though he knew I did not intend to take up my rightful inheritance. As it is, it is going to be such a shock that
it could cause a chasm in the family that will be irreparable. Though I do have plans to try to avoid that.’

For a moment Eloise hesitated, but then he saw that she was coming round to seeing his point of view, as she lifted her head. ‘None of this is your fault, Jay. No one can deny you what is
your own. The family will see that you were prepared not to do anything to hurt Lady Muriel, by claiming your just rights whilst she was alive, and will respect you for that, I’m sure. They
may be angry and hurt and disappointed at first, but they will come to terms with that. As you say, my father should have done something, once he knew the truth. He has always suspected, and that
is why he has treated you so well. But how will you go about things so that there will not be a split in the family?’

‘I don’t intend to abandon them. I will need their help. I won’t even take their beloved home away from them, but will have one built for myself and my family nearby, on my
land. I want Douglas to run the estate with me, and to have the standing that he would have had as the lord. I’m not sure of the details, as I don’t know the extent of my
inheritance.’

‘From what I know, it is extensive. Come with me – we will have to speak with my father.’

As they reached the car, Lord Mellor climbed out and looked from his daughter to Jay. His anger was evident in his red face and in the way his words formed on his lips. ‘What’s going
on? This is very bad behaviour, delaying the family in this way, Eloise. Your cousins need our comfort. We should have arrived back at their home just after them.’

Eloise made sure that she faced Jay, so that he could make out what she said. And he felt very grateful to her and watched carefully as she answered her father. ‘I am sorry, Father. But
the conversation Jay and I have just had is of great importance. Jay has seen the family solicitor, who has verified everything. He is waiting to talk to you and Uncle Christopher. Jay is going to
claim his rightful ownership—’