Lois Menzel (16 page)

Arelia walked on rapidly until she heard a voice call from behind, “Mrs. Saunders, please wait.”

She raised a gloved hand quickly to brush the tears from her eyes as Dennis jogged up behind her. “I thought you drove to church this morning?”

“We did,” she said, not looking at him as he walked beside her. “I chose to walk home.”

“Alone?” he seemed surprised.

“Yes, alone,” she answered, more sharply than she intended. Realizing he had not taken his eyes from her face since he caught her up, she said, “You are staring, Mr. Pearce.”

“If I am, it is because I can see that something is troubling you,” he replied. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Please, spare me the sympathetic vicar’s manner,” she said bitterly. “I have had enough pious posturing this morning to last me a month. Tell me, did you suggest the text for your brother’s sermon, or was it lucky coincidence?”

“Do you truly believe I would do that?”

“It would not surprise me,” she said, “particularly after what you witnessed in the rose garden the other night.”

There was a pause before he replied quietly, “I was afraid that might have distressed you. You have been rather ... distant lately.” When she did not answer after several moments, he said, “In that text our Lord has gone to the Garden of Gethsemane. He has asked the disciples to watch and pray with Him, but they have fallen asleep. He is not speaking specifically about temptations of the flesh.”

“Does the context matter so much?” she returned. “The verse still speaks of temptation and the sins of the flesh. And if that one does not suit, I am certain you could quote me a dozen others that deal directly with the subject.”

Reaching out he took her arm to stop her and turn her to face him. “You sound as if you are angry with me. Why?”

“Angry? Yes, I suppose I am angry. What were you doing in the garden at that hour of the night?” she demanded.

“I could not sleep; I was on my way down to the kitchens to warm some milk. It is much shorter to go through the garden.”

She half laughed in response. “Warm milk! Most men would pour themselves a large brandy. But you are not like most men, are you, Mr. Pearce?”

“I hope not,” he answered.

When she could no longer sustain his regard, she began walking again.

“I don’t know why you should care so much that I saw you together,” he continued. “It is not my place to judge your behavior, and I have not done so. If you love Lord Wilmington and intend to marry him—”

“I do not love Lord Wilmington, and I do not intend to marry him,” she interrupted.

This surprised him more than anything she had said so far, for he had been assuming that her forthcoming marriage was a
fait accompli.

Without pausing to think, he asked, “Then why were you ...?”

“I simply yielded to temptation. It was as your brother said in the sermon, a weakness of the flesh.”

When he did not reply, she said, “I see I have finally succeeded in rendering you speechless. Would it help my case any if I were to tell you that I would have regretted my actions even if you had not seen us? I know it is wrong to raise false hopes in Wilmington.”

“Regret and repentance are necessary for forgiveness,” he said, then added unexpectedly, “which I need as much as you.”

“You
need forgiveness? For what?”

“That night you believe I was ... what? ... dismayed? disapproving? disappointed? Later, perhaps, I was. But my first feeling, my first emotion was none of those. The first thing I felt when I saw you together ... was jealousy.”

It was now her turn to stop walking and stare at him.

“It did not last long,” he continued. “I pushed the feeling quickly to its proper place. But it was there. Very strong and frightfully real. So you see, the sermon spoke as much to me as it did to you. None of us is safe from the desires of the flesh. Sin surrounds us every day; we must always be on guard against it.”

Carefully hiding the hope his little confession raised in her, Arelia asked Mr. Pearce if she might have the support of his arm over a particularly rough portion of the path. He complied and she linked her arm through his, resting her fingers lightly along his strong forearm.

“It seems we both harbored some misunderstanding about that night, sir. I once thought we could be friends. Perhaps it is still possible.”

He agreed it was possible, and they lapsed into a companionable silence as they walked along, both occupied with their own thoughts, sifting through the conversation they had just shared, drawing inferences from it.

Dennis was relieved to think Mrs. Saunders would not be marrying Lord Wilmington after all, while Arelia had reason to hope that her newly discovered attraction for Mr. Pearce was reciprocated.

* * * *

There was nothing unusual about Monday morning, nothing to forewarn Anne that this was a day that would totally change her life. She rose at the normal time, dressed in her sky blue muslin, and shared a fruitful morning of study with Belinda. At eleven o’clock, Tom and Dennis joined them for a French lesson. It too, went smoothly. Dennis was in better spirits and so was Arelia. Anne did not have to guess why. She had seen them arrive home together after church. Clearly, they had come to some understanding.

After luncheon, Anne sat alone in her room planning Belinda’s lessons for the remainder of the week. Since her windows faced the rear of the Castle, she was not privileged to see the emblazoned post-chaise-and-four that arrived and deposited a distinguished-looking man. Her first hint that a visitor was in the Castle came when Kimble knocked quietly at her door. Anne said, “Come,” and then rose in surprise when she saw who stood there. Kimble had never come to her door before, in fact she could not remember ever seeing him above the first floor.

She hurried therefore, certain that whatever brought Kimble to her must be of importance. “Yes, Kimble what is it?”

“You have a visitor, Miss Waverly. He has sent up his card.”

Anne lifted the delicate, gilt-edged card from the silver salver Kimble held in his hand.

“The Duke of Chadwicke!” she exclaimed. Suddenly suspicious, she said, “This is some sort of hoax, Kimble, isn’t it?”

“Certainly not, miss. The gentleman arrived only a few moments ago. You can see the coach in the drive if you disbelieve me.”

“But there must be some mistake. He cannot wish to see
me
.”

“I assure you, miss, he was quite specific. Asked for you by name. Said he understood you were employed here as governess to Mrs. Saunders’s daughter.”

Realizing that if Kimble was telling the truth, she was keeping a duke waiting, Anne hurriedly followed the butler down the stairs. In the great hall several footmen in crimson-and-white livery stood at attention near Lord Tenbury’s servants. She had no time to consider what this visitor might want with her before Kimble opened the doors of the salon and announced her.

“Miss Waverly, Your Grace.”

Anne took a few steps into the room as Kimble pulled the doors closed behind her. She found herself confronted by a thin, elderly gentleman dressed severely in black and white. He raised his quizzing glass and surveyed her critically from head to foot.

“How do you do, Your Grace,” she muttered as she curtsied deeply and then stood irresolutely.

“Well, come girl, come closer. I will not bite you, after all. Come and sit near me, so I may sit as well. I hate standing about. Awkward business, standing about.”

Anne moved to the chair he indicated and seated herself, while he continued, almost without drawing breath, “I daresay you are wondering who I am and why I am here. I know your grandfather, you see.” As he paused and sat near her, Anne had the unmistakable feeling he was as uncomfortable taking part in this interview as she was.

“Which grandfather?” Anne asked, when he seemed unlikely to enlighten her.

“Sir Giles—Giles Pentworth. Knew him as a boy, was a close friend till he went overseas. Our properties marched with one another. Still do actually; the boundaries have not changed in nearly two hundred years. It is on behalf of your grandfather that I am here, Miss Waverly.”

“I have never met my grandfather, Your Grace. He went out to India shortly after I was born. He never communicated with us.”

“I hesitate to disagree with a lady, but he did communicate! Told me he wrote to your father on more than one occasion, asking if there was anything he could do for you—the only child of his only child.”

“My father never told me.”

“Your grandfather may be far away, Miss Waverly, but I can tell you this—all these years he has kept track of you. That is where I come into his plan. Years ago, when he left, he asked me to keep an eye on you, and I have done so. I had an arrangement with your rector, Mr. Pomeroy, and in more recent years, Mr. Boone. Twice a year they would write to me, telling me how you went on. These letters I forwarded to your grandfather.”

“But why did he not write to
me?”

“He had no wish to intrude. He and your father had never been on the best of terms, and when your father made it clear that he wished no assistance, Giles respected that decision. But now that your father is gone, God rest his soul, your grandfather wishes to settle some property on you, property that he intended for your mother.”

When he paused for breath, Anne could think of nothing to say. To imagine that her grandfather had gathered news of her all these years! And she had never known nor even suspected.

The duke continued, “You must understand, Miss Waverly, that Sir Giles is a nabob. Not six months after his father died, he took his inheritance and invested it in India—gems, spices, rare and costly fabrics. He cared not one jot for those who looked down their noses at him for daring to go into trade. He has amassed a fortune, and he wishes to share it with you.”

When he paused politely to allow her to respond, she felt foolish and thickheaded. “You must forgive me, Your Grace. This is all rather hard to take in. My father regretted that Sir Giles was in trade, and his comments led me to believe that grandfather barely subsisted. Now you are telling me that he is a wealthy man?”

“I am telling you that Sir Giles is an
extremely
wealthy man. Giles doted on your mother. She was his only child to survive infancy, and he had great plans for her. Since she was only nine-and-twenty when she died, her death was a severe blow. When he learned of your father’s death, Giles got the notion to make over to you, on your twenty-ninth birthday, those properties he intended for your mother. I have his solicitor waiting in another room. It lacks a week till your birthday, but it will take at least that long to sign and process all the papers transferring the various properties to you.”

“Exactly what properties do you speak of?”

“The ancestral home, which adjoins mine in Norfolk, will pass upon your grandfather’s death to his closest living male relative—your cousin three times removed. But to you, Sir Giles has already deeded Pentworth House and its revenues, situated on a two-thousand-acre estate in Lincolnshire. He has also made over to you his London house, in Charles Street, I believe. Nothing elaborate, but respectable. Giles was never fond of London, but his wife was often there for the Season before they left for the East. Both properties are free from mortgage and in excellent condition. The London residence is closed. Pentworth House has a skeleton staff and an excellent steward. I have given orders for it to be totally turned out and readied against your arrival, should you decide to visit there, or indeed go there to live.”

“Go there to live.” Anne repeated. Most of what he had just said was floating somewhere in the air over her head, refusing to sink in.

“It is your home now, if you wish it. You cannot continue as a governess now that you are a woman of independent means.”

Anne rose from her chair without speaking and walked to the windows facing the front of the Castle.
A woman of independent means.
Before she could even begin to assimilate the thought, the duke spoke again.

“There is one other item about which you must be informed. Your grandfather invested much of his capital in precious gems. These are safely deposited at Barclay’s in London. At their last appraisal their estimated worth was near one hundred thousand pounds. He wishes you to have these as well, either to set into jewelry or to preserve as an investment for your future.”

Anne turned from the windows to regard him with renewed consternation. “How can this be? Is he such a wealthy man?”

“He is, though few know it. He keeps to himself and, though he lives comfortably, is not particularly ostentatious. His heir, for instance, knows nothing of the existence of these gems.”

“But why should he give me so much when he does not even know me?”

“He is nearly eighty years old, and you are his only close blood relation. To whom else should he give it?”

“I cannot imagine. I never dreamed ... Could I write to him, to thank him?”

“Certainly. I can give you his direction. I know he would be delighted to correspond with you.”

“What will I ever do with such wealth?” she asked.

“Enjoy it, husband it well, use it for good if you can, and don’t be deceived into thinking only good can come of it. Great wealth can be a curse as well as a blessing. People who never noticed you before will fall over themselves to be gracious. Men who would not have given you a passing glance will pay compliments to your eyes and tell you your wit and intelligence are second to none. Wealth will attract fortune hunters as carrion attracts crows.”

Chapter 13

The Duke of Chadwicke allowed Anne very little time to assimilate his extraordinary news before he sent for the solicitor to join them. Mr. Murphy was short and slight. He walked with a hurried step and carried a document case that appeared too heavy for him.

After formal introductions were made, the duke continued, “Murphy has administered your grandfather’s estate for many years, Miss Waverly. If you take my advice, you will continue to employ him. He is intimately acquainted with the details of your property and highly qualified to advise you concerning it. He needs you to sign a few documents today. As your grandfather’s representative in this matter, I have reviewed them carefully, but we will explain each to you as we proceed.”