Martha’s gusty sigh spoke volumes. “I’ve told her that. This is the first season she can bask in the sunshine all on her own, but so far she hasn’t listened.”
I thought back to how it was when I was Ruth’s age. Lizzie would have given her soul to have what she had now, but not everyone’s dreams were the same. “All my life I had Lizzie to contend with. She was always dazzlingly beautiful, but I loved her too much to let her know how damaging she was to my prospects. When I started to go into the county, people said I was Lizzie Golightly’s older sister, and they should wait for her. When she came out, she did her best to include me, but she was always the centre of attention. Despite that I’ve done very well, in the eyes of the world as well as my own.” And I had. I had the man I loved, who happened to be wealthy and powerful, as well as being the other half of my soul. “Lift your head, Ruth, make the most of your time now. You are lovely. You could be one of the hits of the season if you chose. Do you want John Kneller to think you can’t cope without him, that his desertion of you means that much to you?”
I think I hit a nerve there, because my sister looked up and at me with a new understanding. “There is that,” she said reluctantly. “I should perhaps try to do that. If I’m a success, he’ll want me more, won’t he?”
“But you can’t have him, Ruth.” Her stubborn insistence irritated me, but I had done what I could. Now it was up to her.
Chapter Three
The following afternoon, Richard helped me out of the carriage outside Southwood House. Since this was one of Lady Southwood’s days for not receiving general visitors, we thought we’d get our visit to her over with in relative privacy. I quirked a brow at him as we faced the shiny black-painted front door. “We paid her a visit just two weeks ago.”
“I need to face her before John does.”
“He wouldn’t dare come here.” Lady Southwood had spirited Richard’s mother away before the children were born. She would hardly welcome them back.
“Nevertheless, I want to prime her and ensure she won’t do anything to encourage the boy.”
We ascended the steps to the door, which we didn’t need to sound. The ever-perspicacious butler opened it before we reached it. He bowed low. Not quite as low as he would have done for Richard’s father the earl, but lower than for most visitors. And for Richard’s brother Gervase, his junior by a matter of minutes and his superior in wealth.
Richard acknowledged his presence with a bare nod. He didn’t acknowledge the footman who took our outerwear. I wanted to smile my thanks, but in this house it would be reported to the mistress and considered even more evidence of my provincial origins. So I forbore and in this instance followed my husband’s lead. He escorted me up a very grand set of stairs and into the drawing room, a deeply formal salon, against the current taste, but this in itself gave it a timeless quality, a sense that the Southwoods were above such trivialities.
I hated it.
But I made my curtsey and Richard gave his mother a supremely elegant, soulless bow. She stood at his presence, something she rarely did for anyone, and returned his greeting.
So did the other person in the room. Richard’s son, John.
Richard hardly acknowledged his presence, but the youth bowed to him. I didn’t curtsey and I knew my role in all this. To support my husband, in whatever he wanted to do here. To trust him, as I always did. As he did with me.
Richard helped me to a seat on one of the gilded, spindle-legged sofas and took his place next to me, flipping his coat aside in a gesture so practised it seemed elegantly natural. At his most intimidating, he tilted his chin at his mother, inviting her to speak.
She regarded him under half-closed lids. “You vouch for this young man?”
“I vouch for no one.”
Her attention turned to me. Typical of her to aim for what she regarded as the weaker point of Richard’s armour. “You knew of this?”
I inclined my head. “I have no interest in this young man.”
Lady Southwood gave an exasperated sound, something like “Tcha!” but went on to say, “Despite your callous disregard of him and his mother, he seems to have grown into a presentable youth. Do you know of his history?”
I had to work hard to suppress a gasp of disbelief, since she had caused his disappearance from Richard’s life.
Richard barely blinked at her blatant turn of face. “I met him last year in Devonshire and became acquainted with some of the highlights of his career.” We knew more than we admitted or would let her know. “If he disturbs you, madam, I will ensure he doesn’t visit you again.”
“I can do that for myself, should I wish it.” So she wanted him here.
I was beginning to understand her tactics in this matter. “Where is Lord Southwood? Does he know of this?”
A muscle on Richard’s hand, seemingly at rest on his knee, twitched. Lady Southwood gave an easy smile. “I will inform him when I see him. He has business at the House today.” Parliament took his attention, then. Had John called because he knew Lord Southwood would be away from home or because she had invited him? “Do you wish to acknowledge your son?” The last two words dropped into silence.
Richard chose not to break it immediately. He looked from his mother to his son and back again, giving John the merest glance of indifference. “I have no son. You ensured we became strangers to each other. It’s best that we continue that way.”
For the first time John spoke. “I shall make you acknowledge me.” I blessed the fact that while he looked like Richard, he didn’t sound like him. His voice was lighter, with a Northern accent, very slight but discernible. I suspected that he kept it to evoke interest.
Richard tilted his chin and gazed at John, but avoided direct eye contact. I’d seen that before, an aristocratic trick to emphasise superiority, as if indicating that the recipient of the regard was not worthy of so intimate a connection. “No, you will not.”
“People are talking.”
“And why should that concern me?” His tones took the temperature in the room down a few degrees.
I knew why. Gossip was not only damaging, but also invidious, and rarely forgotten. With John spreading his particular brand of poison, it could hurt Richard more than I ever wished to see. Or would allow. I’d take action to ensure that didn’t happen if I had to.
His mother gave Richard a look of exasperation, her lips thinning, her brow furrowed by a frown. “You know quite well why. Your father is currently undertaking some delicate negotiations in the House.”
“Then I suggest we ignore the boy. His addition to the family cannot, I assure you, my lady, redound to our credit.”
“I don’t see why not.” Lady Southwood unfolded her hands and reached for her dish of tea, which was no doubt cold by now. But she took a delicate sip before she replaced it in its saucer. A delaying tactic.
“Then let me explain.” Richard glanced at John and immediately back to his mother. “Last year, this young man appeared in Rose’s home county, claiming to be a Sir John Kneller. He hired a house in the district and courted Rose’s sister Ruth quite determinedly. He claimed to be older than his actual age, which would make him acceptable to Ruth. He abducted my wife in an attempt to silence my attempts to prevent his criminal activities. I took her back and put paid to his pretensions.”
“Criminal activities?” Lady Southwood didn’t seem too perturbed, but like Richard, she rarely displayed her true emotions. Sometimes I doubted she had any, apart from a violent desire to pursue her family’s power and influence.
“He attempted to control the smuggling industry in that part of the country. It is already an organized activity, and disrupting it would cause the kind of bloodshed that has already occurred in other parts of the country.” A very civilised way of describing the death and destruction of local industry that smuggling brought to parts of the coast. “I put a stop to it, and he left the district. Now he has re-emerged, sans the honorific, and with ambitions beyond any he is entitled to.” He glanced at me and I understood that he was ready to leave. I made to get to my feet when John interrupted.
“I was adopted by Sir John Kneller and I’m proud to continue his name. He showed me kindnesses my family never have.” He blinked and drew a breath, not as practised at hiding his emotions as my husband and his mother. Nor I, though it took more of an effort for me to cover my expressions with a polite society mask. “However, I have recently come into the possession of a document that makes all the change in the world.” He glared at Richard, who studiously ignored him. “It appears that my father married my mother before he caused her to be removed from Eyton. He must have had a change of heart.”
Again that fraught silence, in which I imagined they could hear my heart pounding. Wildly, I sought out the possibilities, the probabilities and what it meant for Helen. If it were true. Richard said nothing, his posture frozen, his gaze icy. Only the diamond pin in his neckcloth flashed when he took a deep breath.
Richard had offered to marry Lucy, the mother of twins John and Susan, but had always said his mother had removed Lucy before he’d done it. And he hadn’t known of her pregnancy. She had taken the decision from him, afraid he’d carry out his threat. Richard wouldn’t have married Lucy, not at fourteen. But his parents dealt with the problem for him in such a way that it came back to haunt him years later.
“My mother sent Lucy away,” Richard said.
John blinked, and then stared at Richard. At least his eyes were grey, otherwise he could have created a facsimile of Richard. His face was the same shape, pointed and angular, with the sensual lips that appeared, to those who didn’t know him as well as I, to belie his cold nature. John had even adapted Richard’s preference for clear colours and fine lace, although he wouldn’t have the money to duplicate it completely. Neither did he need to for people to remark the difference.
“It seems I misjudged you, in one matter at least.” John had accused his father of abandoning him, of having a hand in sending him away. Perhaps we had an opening here. Something we could work with.
Richard gave his son a brief nod. “You did. But that led you to behaviour I find unacceptable.” He favoured his son with a chilling glance. “I have never married anyone apart from Rose.”
“I beg to differ,” said John, equally smooth. “I have the documents and I traced the witnesses.” He must have paid a lot to get them.
I tried not to show my alarm, clasping my hands loosely in my lap and carefully retaining my expression of polite indifference. Only Lady Southwood revealed any interest, and that only by a widening of her slightly protuberant pale blue eyes. “An interesting bid, but as you must recall, Strang was fourteen and unable to contract a marriage of his own accord. Even if he had gone through with some kind of ritual, it wouldn’t be legal.” I hated the way she always referred to Richard by his title. Many high-born mothers did, but some used the title with some fondness. Lady Southwood never did.
John smiled, his ease increasing my lack of comfort. He wouldn’t have made such a claim without a great deal of preparation. “But this was before the recent Marriage Act.” Irregular marriage occurred all the time. “It has to be proved in the courts. But at the very least, it is a precontract. I have a case, you must admit.”
“With a fourteen-year-old boy?” I put all the scorn I could muster into that statement. John would pounce on any sign of weakness.
“Yes. It has been known.” He gave me an easy smile. He’d been watching Richard. “You understand that a precontract invalidates all subsequent marriages until the death of one or both of the parties.”
My heart plummeted. I had borne a child, and I had another in my womb. If he proved his case, that would make our marriage null and void, and our children bastards, since we married when Lucy was still alive. I couldn’t bear it. I must have shown a sign of my stress because Richard got to his feet and strolled across the room to the window, the swirl of his heavy coat skirts blocking his son’s view of me for a crucial second or two.
“I didn’t do it,” he said. “I never went through any form of ceremony with Lucy Forder. Neither did I make her any promises in front of witnesses.” Legally, that was what counted. No doubt John, in possession of a tidy fortune, had bribed people to say so. We needed legal help.
And all the while, Lady Southwood watched us, speculation glittering in her eyes, brighter than the diamonds around her throat. I knew what she was thinking just as if she’d said it aloud.
Strang could be free. He could marry again, someone of my choosing this time. I can support this boy as long as it suits me, and then get rid of him.
Chapter Four
Our next call was in the City. Not wanting to advertise our presence, we sent our crested carriage home and hired a hack. Richard sent the first one away, and by the state of the second, I didn’t want to know how bad that had been. This one had cracked upholstery and debris on the floor that I avoided looking at. And it stank, so it was as well the leather blinds weren’t drawn over the open windows. I tried to appear nonchalant, but I didn’t fool my husband for a moment.
“I’ve told them to send the uncrested vehicle for us.” I heard the smile in his voice and rejoiced in it. I’d seen the despair behind his disdain at his mother’s house. We’d left after John, not wishing him to regain territory, but his mother, a gleam in her eye, wouldn’t speak to us and wouldn’t listen when Richard tried to tell her what John had done in Devonshire last year.