Fenella J. Miller (8 page)

       Eliza flushed, reluctant to admit her weakness. Mrs Fox answered for her.

‘Your sister swooned, she heard some shocking news, but she is fully recovered now and I shall send another messenger to tell Dr Smith he’s no longer required.’

       ‘Shocking news?’ Edmund paled as he was fixed by his mother’s basilisk stare. Eliza saw him swallow nervously, and took pity on him.

       ‘Edmund, Mama knows it all and has come up with an excellent solution. We shall not talk about it now, but I’m sure it will be explained to you later. I’m going upstairs to change into my work clothes and am going riding. Do you wish to come with me?’

Edmund glanced through the drawing-room to the bay windows which were running with water. ‘Are you mad? It’s tipping down out there, you will be drowned in an instant. Far better to stay in and play spillikins with Sarah.’

       Eliza sighed, she had not realized the rain had worsened. It would indeed be foolish to venture outside. ‘Very well, I shall remain indoors until the rain lessens.’ She smiled at Sarah who she could see staring anxiously from face to face wondering what had upset the adults in her life. ‘It’s all right, darling, there’s nothing wrong. Shall we go into the back parlour and draw some pictures?’

       ‘I should like that, Liza. I’m quite puffed out with playing hide and go seek upstairs.

Poor Jane says she will need to have a lie down.’ Chatting happily she led the way into the small room on the other side of the house and Eliza followed her. She glanced back and saw her mother and Edmund enter the library. She smiled, it would do him no harm to receive a bear-garden jaw. It was time he faced his responsibilities and time that she relinquished hers.

       She stopped, amazed at herself for thinking such a thing. She had been dreading the time and she would be obliged to hand over the running of the estate to her brother believing that she would have no life worth living, but that of a dutiful daughter, granddaughter and older sister. Even the prospect of running Hockley House did not fill her with excitement.

       How could she have suffered such a
volte face
in less than twenty-four hours? The image of a huge bear like man, with smoky blue eyes and a smile that turned her insides over, slid into her mind.

       It seemed that after five long empty years she had finally met a kindred spirit, a man who could perhaps replace the void that Dickon’s death had left in her life.

Sarah tugged at her hand impatiently. ‘Liza, you’re not listening to me. Where are the chalks and slate, I can’t find them anywhere?’

The drawing things were soon unearthed in the massive oak sideboard and she was content to while away the morning helping Sarah draw pictures, whilst her mind drifted happily over interesting possibilities.

* * * *

The following day her grandmother was given Sarah to entertain whilst Edmund, Mrs Fox and Eliza waited impatiently in the library for the arrival of Mr Firmin.

       ‘I do hope his clerk was able to return from Town in time, Mama. The roads must have been awash after the rain we had yesterday.’

* * * *

Edmund was staring morosely out of the window. Since his conversation with his mother the previous day he seemed to have sobered up and accepted responsibility for what he’d done. He spoke no more of suicide, or running away to sea, but had spent two hours writing notes in the library of possible ways of raising money. ‘It’s sunny enough now, Liza. The roads would have dried out by this morning. I’m sure he will have the news we want.’

They did not have long to wait before there was the distinct sound of a carriage trundling down the drive.

‘It is strange, Mama, that Papa never discussed the matter with you. Are you sure he never told you about this investment he made on my behalf?’

‘No, my dear. At least we can be sure he will not have put it in slaves. However much money was to be made he never invested anything in that loathsome trade.’

This time Eliza sat with her mother to one side of the desk and Edmund took his rightful place. She smiled slightly, thinking how much had changed and in such a short time. Less than three days before she had been galloping around the place dressed as a man and Grove House had been safe. Now, she had no wish to wear anything but female attire and Wydale almost had possession of their precious home. All that stood between them and eviction was Mr Firmin and whatever his clerk had discovered in London.

‘Edmund, what do you know of Mr Reed? Is he wealthy?’

       ‘I’ve no idea, Liza. I imagine he has money, he couldn’t dress as he does or ride such a horse. I believe he has a house in Grosvenor Square. But he cannot be a man of real substance or why would he fraternize with such as Wydale.’

Her brother was no doubt correct. Then she remembered something he had said about his family estate, when he had been pretending to be seeking out John Constable the artist,

He had mentioned the family home, Longshaw, she thought he had called it, but had also mentioned having an estate of his own.

       Her thoughts were interrupted as the lawyer was announced. He began without preamble. ‘Good morning to you all. I have the documents you require. The names of the companies inscribed thereon are very hopeful, very promising indeed.’ He walked across and placed the box on the desk.

Eliza waited for Edmund to move then remembered that these papers were addressed to her, so it was up to her to open them. She got up and, with slightly shaking hands, removed the first of the five papers. She recognized the name of a manufacturing company. She knew this was making its owners and shareholders rich beyond belief. She untied the red ribbon and flattened the paper.

Edmund lent forward eagerly. ‘What does it say, Liza? Tell us at once.’

       ‘Good Heavens! It seems I hold five hundred shares in this company. Mr Firmin, how much are they worth, do you know?’

The elderly gentleman rubbed his hands and beamed. ‘My dear, Miss Fox, those shares are worth at least ten pounds a piece, that is over five thousand pounds that you’re holding.’

       ‘Mama, come and open one of these, Edmund you take another. I do believe we might have the answer to our prayers right here in this box.’

Twenty minutes later they were sitting in the drawing-room sipping coffee and eating slices of cook’s delicious plum cake. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders and even Mr Firmin was included in the celebration.

 ‘I can hardly believe it. Your father was a clever man, Miss Fox. Five years ago none of these companies were more than starting out, he would have bought the shares cheaply.

He was always an astute businessman and he has left you a tidy legacy.’

       ‘I do not see why he would believe I should disapprove of his investments.’ For once Edmund was able to demonstrate he was more worldly than she.

‘Child labour, Liza. They make their money by employing children and women on pathetic wages. I believe they also take children from the poorhouse and make them work a so-called apprenticeship.’

       ‘I see. I knew that children were employed in factories, but there are many Members of Parliament who are against this practice, and I’m sure it will be banned eventually.’ Eliza could hardly refuse to sell her shares, just because they were made by exploiting women and children. A rough estimate of the value of shares was almost £25,000. Not quite enough, but perhaps Lord Wydale could be persuaded to wait for the rest until the next quarter’s rents came in.

 The lawyer replaced his porcelain cup carefully on the side table. ‘Forgive me, ladies, Mr Fox, I must take my leave. As I am to sell these shares for you I must go to London and put matters in hand. How soon do you require the funds, Miss Fox?’ He had not been told the whole, but he had guessed the urgency of the matter.

‘It is a debt of honour that we have to pay and we have three months to find the money. Will you be able to sell by then? ‘

       ‘Yes, Miss Fox. The shares will be snapped up as soon as they’re available. I shall have the money to you long before the deadline, never fear.’

Edmund rose and shook the older man’s hand vigorously. ‘Sir, you’re a good friend to

this family. I hope we can rely on your discretion?’ The older man looked offended and Edmund realized his mistake. ‘I do apologize, sir, I’m used to dealing with such matters. Miss Fox has had to take control of things, but all that is to change today. I intend to stay at home and learn how to run the estates myself.’

Mr Firmin bowed. ‘I’m glad you are, sir. You are very like your father and I am certain that Grove House will not suffer in your hands.’       The door closed behind him and the three remaining occupants smiled, delighted everything had turned out so well.

       ‘What time did Mr Reed say he would be coming, Mama?’

        ‘He didn’t specify a time, my dear. But, unlike when one’s in Town, I’m sure he won’t leave his morning call until this afternoon.’ Mrs Fox stood up. ‘I had better go and see what Grandmamma is doing. She must feel sadly neglected this morning.’

‘I am going upstairs to change into my new riding habit. When Mr Reed arrives could you direct him down to the lake, I intend to ride there today.’

Eliza was obliged to struggle out of her day dress and into her riding habit without assistance. Eventually she had all the pieces in place and the jaunty military style cap firmly pinned to her head. The blue of the closely fitting jacket complemented her eyes and the gold buttons relieved the plainness of the outfit.

She had never worn this habit and neither had she ridden her father’s gelding side saddle. Should she change back into her britches? She shook her head; since she had met Mr Reed she had no desire to dress like a farmer. She smiled to herself, as she hurried back down the stairs, at the thought that she would rather risk a tumble than ride astride.

Chapter Eight

Eliza was unused to riding sidesaddle and found it hard to maintain her balance on the restless chestnut gelding. This horse was also unfamiliar with having his rider sitting sideways and not astride. She was beginning to fear she had made a grave error of judgement in insisting that Fred Smith saddle this particular horse.

       Maybe it would have been better, as he had tactfully suggested, to have taken the quite cob that Sarah rode. Several times the chestnut shied and bucked and twice she lost her stirrup and only by grabbing a handful of his wiry mane managed to remain aloft.

Perhaps if she gave him his head, allowed him a long gallop, he would settle. She leant forward and patted his sweating neck, feeling the heat through her leather gloves.

       ‘Calm down, Sultan, you will have me off in a moment and I’m sure you do not wish to do that. We are the best of friends, aren’t we, old fellow?’ She watched the horses’ ears flick back and forth as if he understood her ramblings. The soothing words appeared to work and her mount relaxed and stopped fighting her.

       ‘You
are
a good boy; now, if you’re ready shall we have a wonderful gallop down the avenue and around the lake?’ She shortened her reins and settled more firmly in the saddle; her horse needed no further encouragement. Stretching his neck and lengthening his stride he was soon flying down the turf, the wind whipping tears from her eyes and the trees on either side a green blur.

       She had almost reached the lake when she felt a change in her horse’s pace, and an added tension in his muscles. What was it now? She glanced over her shoulder and her mouth curved in a smile of welcome. Thundering behind her on a magnificent black stallion was Mr Reed, he returned her greeting and urged his mount faster, obviously hoping to overtake.

       She could not allow this to happen, Sultan was past his prime, but he still hated to be bested. She crouched low and shouted encouragement. However hard she urged him the stallion was not left behind. Slowly she saw his nose appear at her foot, then his head, and then the horse and man were beside her, matching her stride for stride. Laughing, she admitted defeat and sitting back in the saddle, exerted a slight pressure on the bit.

       The old chestnut was ready to slow down, he, like her he had met his match. Flank to flank the horses dropped back into an extended canter and finally to a walk.

       ‘My word, Miss Fox, I knew you could ride astride as good as any man I know, but even sidesaddle you are incomparable.’

       Eliza felt her smile reaching from ear to ear at his praise. ‘I was will taught, sir, we all were. My father was famous in the neighbourhood for his horsemanship.’

The two horses walked side by side happy to amble along and recover from their wild gallop. This gave the riders the opportunity to confer more intimately.

       ‘Miss Fox, I’m glad to see you fully recovered from your swoon of yesterday.’

       She had the grace to blush. ‘I’m in rude health, as you can see, Mr Reed. And I have had most amazing news this morning. My lawyer brought the documents I was waiting for and it appears that I own around twenty-five thousand pounds’ worth of shares in various manufactories. He is at this very moment on his way to London to arrange their sale.’

       ‘Shall we dismount, Miss Fox. There are matters I wish to discuss with you and it is hard to do so when one cannot speak directly.’

Laughing she agreed. ‘You see, just over there, there’s a grand folly? It has seats inside and at the rear there is somewhere to tether the horses. Often a groom leaves water and fodder, but it’s so long since I have been down here, I’m not sure if that’s the case today.’

They urged the horses into a trot and soon arrived at the building that looked like a Greek temple from a distance and the marble walls reflected pink ripples in the surface of the water.

       Eliza barely had time to rein in before her companion vaulted from his horse and tossing the reins over the animal’s ears stepped round and lifted her from the saddle. Her heart skittered and her pulse raced. She felt his warm gloved hands around her waist as he held her close to his chest for considerably longer than was necessary.