Mask of Duplicity (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 1) (14 page)

That’s put us in our place
, thought Beth.
A reunion with long-lost relatives takes second place to a sick dog.
Nevertheless she curtsied politely, and felt Edward’s appreciative eyes surveying her from head to toe. He threw himself down in a chair and popped a cake into his mouth. Richard and Beth resumed their seats.

Isabella politely endeavoured to include her brother in the conversation.

“We were just discussing whether gentlemen prefer slender ladies like Clarissa and Charlotte, Edward, or more ample figures such as mine,” she said.

“Neither,” Edward replied without hesitation. He waved a hand at his pigeon-breasted sisters. “You two are too thin, and you, Isabella, are too fat,”

“My dear Frederick always used to say...” ventured Charlotte.

 “Gentlemen prefer something in between,” Edward continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “A little roundness in the breast and the rump, that’s all, not rolls of blubber, or sharp bones sticking out everywhere.”

Beth bristled at his rudeness and even Richard looked uncomfortable. But the three sisters seemed completely unconcerned, and Beth realised that they were probably used to being addressed in such a manner. She envisaged months of having to endure her cousin’s thoughtlessness without retaliating, and wondered how she would survive.

“So, I believe that Uncle Henry left your house in need of extensive renovation when he died,” Edward said, addressing Richard.

“Er...there are repairs that need to be done, yes,” Richard said.

“And you are hoping to come and stay here for a while?”

Richard looked to Beth for assistance, but she was gazing demurely into her lap. She had no intention of helping him here. She would be polite; she would endure her boorish cousin, but she would not beg, she had told him that.

“That would be very helpful,” Richard replied. Sweat stood on his brow in spite of the fact that the room was distinctly chilly, the fire in the hearth doing nothing to counteract the draughts which pervaded the large room. “You see, father left us somewhat... impoverished, and we cannot afford the expense of a hotel.”

“Ah, I see.”
So you wish to come and sponge off us,
his tone clearly said.

“Father was very ill for some years before his death,” Beth leapt in defensively. “He always managed his investments himself, and was unable to do so once he fell ill. As I had to nurse him alone, I did not have the time or the expertise to manage his financial affairs.” Her emphasis on the word
alone
clearly reproved Edward for showing no concern over his uncle’s illness, and he reddened slightly.

“The house is not mortgaged, but we find ourselves in somewhat straitened circumstances,” Richard finished.

Lord Edward threw another tiny cake into his mouth and stood up.

“Well, I’m sure the ladies have no interest whatsoever in financial matters, and would prefer to talk about fashion or sewing, or suchlike,” he said dismissively. “What say we repair to my study for a drop of port and discuss the situation?”

Richard stood, and remembering just in time to bow politely to the ladies, followed his cousin out of the room. Beth was torn between relief that he’d gone and anger at being so peremptorily dismissed.

“So, do you sew then, Elizabeth?” ventured Charlotte, following her brother’s suggestion as to a topic of conversation.

“Yes, my mother was a seamstress, as I’m sure you remember. She taught me when I was a child,” Beth replied, possessed by a mischievous demon.

Her three companions blushed, clearly embarrassed that the reason for her being ostracised for so many years had been brought up.

“Er...did you make your own costume, cousin? It is most becoming,” Isabella asked.

She was being tactful, Beth realised; trying to put her visitor at ease. The bright yellow dress was old-fashioned in style and the colour hideous on Beth, making her hair look colourless and deadening her complexion. Even the unobservant Richard had commented on how unflattering it was when she had appeared that morning, but she had pointed out that she possessed only two dresses suitable for visiting, and the blue silk was dirty.

Beth gave in. She could not vent her anger on these ladies, who were only trying to be welcoming and kind and were showing not the slightest sign of condescension.

“You are too kind, Isabella,” she said. “But I know the dress is out of fashion. I am afraid that I have not had the time to follow the latest styles. I have been too preoccupied with other things.”

“Of course, I understand. It must have been so difficult for you, caring for your father, with no help at all. I did want to call but...” Isabella stopped abruptly, and Beth realised with a shock that her cousin had been about to say that she had wanted to call, but presumably her brother had forbidden it. This woman was not her enemy, and Beth tried to absorb the fact that if it had not been for the hostility of the male Cunninghams, the family rift would probably never have occurred.

“I have wonderful servants,” Beth said, as though she had not noticed that Isabella had stopped half way through a sentence. “They were amazing. I did not feel alone at all.”

“You are very lucky. Good servants are so hard to find these days.” Isabella carried on, discussing the various merits and failings of the servants, and Beth listened with half her attention, wondering what Richard and Edward were talking about.

* * *

Richard had just finished outlining the provisions of his father’s will, and had given a somewhat edited version of his ambitions to find a good husband for Beth.

“I realise that I may have to live in somewhat reduced circumstances, but I see no reason why Elizabeth should not make a good match, with her looks and dowry. She at least should be able to escape a life of penury,” he said insincerely.

“You are too good-natured, cousin,” Lord Edward put in. “Of course she needs a good husband. All women need a man to keep them on the right path. But I see no reason why you shouldn’t profit by it as well. After all,
your
birth is impeccable. Both your parents were noble. I am sure a man can be found who will appreciate the high birth of his brother-in-law, and be suitably generous.”

Richard tried to look as though the idea of profiting from his sister’s marriage had not occurred to him until this very moment.

“Well, of course it would be very nice to be able to purchase a cornet’s commission...” Richard began.

“At the very least, dear boy. Your sister is quite remarkable, you know, looks exactly like her mother. And even without a penny to her name
she
snared herself a lord’s son, after all, didn’t she?”

Richard was extremely grateful that his sister was not present. Edward’s contemptuous tone left it in no doubt that as far as he was concerned Uncle Henry might have been in love, but his pauper wife had been out for everything she could get.

“I suppose you’re hoping that I will help to launch Elizabeth into society, then?” Edward said.

Richard hesitated. He had not expected such bluntness, and was unsure whether he would gain more respect by responding in a like manner, or by prevaricating. He finally opted for the former, mixed with a little humility. After all, hadn’t Lord Edward just pointed out that his birth was noble, and by inference that it was only his sister who was tainted?

“I would be most grateful if you were willing to do that, yes,” he said.

“Do you think Elizabeth capable of behaving appropriately in more elevated circles?” Edward asked, eyeing Richard’s empty glass with approval. He liked a man who could take his drink and didn’t sip at it like an old woman. He replenished their glasses.

“Yes, I’m sure she can. She is very intelligent and well educated, and can speak on a variety of subjects, and I’m certain she is as anxious as I am to be accepted into the right company.” That was true, at least.

“Hmm.” Edward was not in favour of education for women; it made them dissatisfied with the domestic lives they were designed for. “Well, I think she may do. And you and I can always keep a tight rein on her, until she’s married of course, after which we can leave it to her husband to control her. I think you should come and stay for a short while, see how things go. My sisters will enjoy having another woman around and will delight in making her presentable. If we all rub along well together I see no reason why you can’t accompany us to London for the season.”

Richard was ecstatic. He’d expected to have to use all his powers of manipulation and persuasion to get Edward to agree to take them under his wing. This had been so easy. He never stopped to wonder why, and when his cousin changed the subject to the proposed hunt on Saturday, Richard threw himself into the new topic without any further thought. Clearly Lord Edward was an altruistic man who had taken to his cousin Richard.

Lord Edward was nothing of the sort. He had been amazed by his lowborn cousin’s beauty. Even in that hideous dress she was stunning. He was certain that his sisters would be delighted to groom her for London, which would get them off his back for a while, and once he let it be known that she was looking for a husband and had a considerable dowry to go with her looks, she would be besieged. All he had to do then was to make sure that the man chosen for her had some parliamentary influence. As a peer, Edward Cunningham automatically had a seat in the House of Lords but was right at the bottom of the pecking order of the nobility. The only way to secure more influence in government was to either buy the loyalty of MPs, which could be unreliable, and was hideously expensive, or to curry favour with a more prominent peer. An influential in-law could make all the difference, but his sisters were all past marrying age, and pig-ugly too. If she behaved herself Elizabeth could probably net a viscount at the very least. If necessary he would buy Richard’s commission himself rather than let her marry a military man with no political pull. Of course he was not about to tell Richard that. If a suitor could be found who would both pay for a commission
and
get him political preferment, so much the better. Edward had not kept his fortune by spending money unnecessarily.

The pig-ugly sisters were delighted when they heard their brother’s decision, and it was arranged that Beth and Richard would move in in two weeks, which would give them all a few weeks to get to know each other before travelling down to London.

For her part, spending an hour with her female cousins had reassured Beth on one point, at least; they were all genuinely pleased that she was coming to stay, and whilst they seemed somewhat empty-headed, they held her in no contempt at all. They were all kind and eager to make her feel welcome. Of Edward she was less sure, but she would cope with him when and if it became necessary.

 * *

All this did not make it any easier to leave home. She found herself spending more and more time with the servants and none at all with Richard, who reminded her every time their paths crossed that she would have to make a good impression on the Cunninghams if she expected them to take her to London. She reminded him of her promise, several times, and finally took to cutting him dead, walking away whenever he tried to speak to her. He did not attempt to touch her, for which she was grateful.

She went to visit Mary a couple of days before she was due to leave Didsbury. Saying goodbye to her friend, not knowing how long it would be before they saw each other again was difficult, but bidding farewell to the servants was even more heart wrenching. None of them had taken up the offer to leave with three months’ pay, for which Beth was secretly grateful. It was comforting to know that she still had a body of friends that she could turn to at any time, even if technically speaking they were now Richard’s servants rather than hers. She had promised them more than once that she would visit them before leaving for London, no matter what. They had briefly discussed King George’s recent proclamation calling for extra men to volunteer for the militia. With much of the army engaged abroad, the militia would be needed to put down any local disturbances that might occur in their absence. As expected, Thomas said he would serve if necessary, but that he would not volunteer, to Jane’s relief, who, Hanoverian as she was, had no wish to see her beloved husband die putting down a riot amongst his own neighbours. They all promised to step up their hunt for John and advise him to lie low if he wanted to avoid being enlisted. Vagrants were sometimes forcibly conscripted as a way of giving them employment. She had no idea whether John was a vagrant or not, but as he had never called to ask for a reference it was a distinct possibility. He would die rather than serve in the Hanoverian militia, she was sure.

On the morning of her departure Beth breakfasted in the kitchen. Everyone was too honest to put on an air of false gaiety and consequently the mood was sombre.

“It’s not that bad,” she said. “I’ll only be a few miles away. I’ll probably be able to sneak away more than once before we go to London. And if I do get married, I’ll insist that you all come to work for me, if you want to.”

“If your husband allows it,” Thomas pointed out. “He’ll already have his own servants.”

“Well then, he can have some more!” Beth cried.

She was close to tears, but managed to swallow them down as first Thomas then Jane enfolded her in a warm embrace. Jane was a homely woman, plump and plain-featured, with mousy-coloured hair. Many people had wondered what Thomas had seen in her. With his handsome face, flashing green eyes, and muscular build, he could have had his pick of the village girls. But Beth had never questioned what Thomas saw in Jane. She was kind, loyal and level-headed, and absolutely devoted to him, as he was to her. It was a tragedy that in ten years of marriage Jane’s womb had never quickened. They would have made marvellous parents, Beth thought, although if they were disappointed they never spoke of it in public.

“I feel better that Grace is going with you,” Jane said, sniffing loudly. “At least you’ll have a friend by your side.”

Beth had been overjoyed when Grace had tentatively suggested that she accompany her as lady’s maid, and had accepted the offer immediately. She could not think of anyone better suited for the post. Demure and polite, she could never cause offence, yet she would be unerringly loyal to her mistress.