The Birthright (28 page)
Instead of offering a standard word of thanks, Anne said, “I have thought much upon this journey back from Wales. If I am to stay through the winter, there are some projects I would like to begin.”
“Projects,” Charles repeated dumbly.
“With your permission, I would like to begin work with the surrounding villages, offering medical help where I can. Your own villages are now in satisfactory condition, Uncle. But many of those beyond your borders, I am sorry to say, remain in a very dismal state.”
Charles could not deny it. “The other landowners might object to your meddling,” he said.
“Not if a local society of churchwomen was formed to help the country people in need.”
Then Lord Percy descended the manor’s front steps. “A most worthy thought, if I do say so myself, Lord Charles.” Percy had obviously dressed with some haste. The buttons of his waistcoat were done up incorrectly, and his wig sat askew on his head. He bowed and said, “Your arrival caught me napping. Might I be the first to welcome you home.”
“You may not,” Anne said sweetly. “Since young Will has beat you to it. But your words are well received just the same.” She moved toward the young man accompanying Lord Percy and said, “Good afternoon, Thomas.”
The man’s face showed a wild conflict of emotions. “Mrs. Mann, Miss Nicole, your lordship. Forgive me, I could not help but overhear…Your lordship, if I may say so, I think Mrs. Mann’s idea is superb. Simply superb. Not only that, sir, but we could expand upon the idea. There are a great many people of merit about here, within the church, the courts, the trades, and some landowners besides who all stand mightily opposed to the war on religious and moral grounds. We could—”
“Thomas,” Percy said mildly, “they have just arrived from a long journey.”
“Of course. I do beg your pardon.”
“Not at all, not at all.” Charles hoped the tumult occurring in his chest was not apparent on his face. “Percy, perhaps you and I might retire to the library. There are several urgent matters to be discussed.”
But before they started up the stairs, Nicole stepped up beside him and said tensely, “Uncle, the post packet.”
“What?” He glanced down at the unopened leather pouch. “Good gracious, I utterly forgot.” He untied the thongs, then grinned at the first letter revealed. “There you are, my dear.”
“A letter from home!” Nicole broke into such a smile as Charles had not seen in many days. He watched thoughtfully as Nicole worked at the seal with fingers so eager they trembled. “Oh, there’s a letter from Mama in Louisiana, as well!”
Anne switched the baby to her other side so she could move in closer. Soon their two heads were touching as they read the words together. Charles turned and made his way inside along with Percy.
He warmly greeted his staff at the front door, then said, “A large pot of coffee would do me wonders just now, Maisy.”
“Aye, m’lord. And perhaps a little toasted cheese to see you through to dinnertime.”
“I am a bit famished from the road.” Charles nodded to her husband and asked, “Are there fresh candles in the library, Gaylord?”
“Been kept lit and tended since Lord Percy’s arrival, your lordship. He’s claimed the place as his own.” Gaylord then bowed. “Always good to welcome your lordship back home.”
“Thank you kindly. Come, Percy.”
Charles climbed the stairs in impatient bounds, scarcely containing himself as he hurried to get safely behind the library’s closed double doors. Percy had to work hard to stay with him. “Percy, I don’t suppose you have noticed how well Anne is fitting in.”
“I could hardly miss it.” Percy settled into one of the leather settees by the huge side window. “I have watched her over the weeks in London. Her veil of sorrow has gradually lifted, revealing a woman of outstanding intelligence and ability. Not only that, she’s extremely well suited to the life here.”
“Well suited and happy both, with a disposition that is quite appropriate for English society. Much more so than…” Charles let the thought trail off as he paced to the room’s other end. He clasped his hands behind his back and said to the back wall, “This idea of hers for the women’s society is extraordinary.”
“Brilliant.” Percy remained seated, waiting.
Charles paced off three more routes from wall to wall. Finally he asked what had been growing in his mind ever since his conversation with Judith Mann. “Would there be any chance to name Anne as my heir?”
“At this point in time,” Percy replied, without hesitation, “utterly impossible.”
“But she was raised by my brother Andrew. She is his daughter.”
“In all but name,” Percy corrected. “If I understand what you have previously told me, your brother never formally adopted her.”
“They lived in a village at the back of beyond,” Charles protested. “There were no Crown registers there, nor any need of them.”
“Such reasoning means nothing at the royal court and if presented would only serve those who oppose you. You must remember, Charles, if there is not a clear and documented bloodline between lord and heir, the Crown has every right to reclaim all your holdings.” Percy hesitated a moment, then ventured, “Might I ask, if you seek another besides Nicole, why not approach your brother?”
“Because he would accept,” Charles said simply.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You know the code of my legacy far better than I. The earl of Harrow must reside in Harrow Hall. Andrew would come if I asked. I know this for a fact. But he would be utterly miserable, and his wife would positively loathe the life here. Not to mention that they’d lose everything they have struggled so hard to build.” He thought back to his brother and the visceral bond that Andrew shared with his people, with his church and village. “It would kill him stone-dead to return to England.”
Percy nodded his acceptance. “Back to Anne, then. Her blood parents are still alive, are they not?”
“Yes,” Charles grudgingly agreed.
“Then you have no hope of succeeding.” Percy settled his hands across his ample girth. “My dear friend, at the best of times such an endeavor would be extremely difficult. There is no blood relation, nothing upon which a claim of legal heritage might be laid.”
“Adoptions take place all the time!”
“Indeed they do, but not involving earls of the realm.”
Charles rounded on the seated attorney. “I thought you were my ally in this!”
“That most certainly is the case. You can trust me to give you honest advice and counsel at all times.” Percy seemed unaffected by Charles’s rising ire. “May I explain myself?”
“Carry on then.” Charles resumed his pacing.
“Any transfer of royal title and lands that does not follow the line of blood must be recognized by the Crown. Even in the best of circumstances, such permissions are rarely given. The truth is, the Crown is jealous of your wealth and property. Not to mention the fact that they are boiling over your recent public defection. They would be quite happy to see your holdings disbursed upon your demise.”
Charles stopped in front of a window. “So my recent proclamation before Parliament has churned up continuing ire.”
“You had little hope to begin with. Now you have none at all,” Percy agreed. “You also have a new and formidable enemy.”
Charles did not have to think long to hazard a guess. “Lord Harwick?”
Percy nodded solemnly. “He represents the Crown’s interests, but he also acts with a vengeance that is all his own. Give him such a lever, and I assure you he’ll pry loose both your titles and holdings. You would be left a pauper.”
Charles peered out the window as the afternoon light gradually softened and the distant valley faded to russet shadows. “I suppose it was to be expected.”
“To all who oppose the war, you are a hero,” Percy added. “I include myself among those people, as does Thomas. He absolutely reveres you.” But Charles remained silent, still facing the glass. So Percy continued, “You have a worthy heir in Nicole. She may not suit the place and the title so well as Anne, but I am certain she’ll do her very best to make you proud.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” Charles replied quietly. “Life is strange, is it not?”
“Very strange indeed, old friend.”
With his face pointed toward the dying day, he mused softly, “God has seen fit to grant me exactly what I requested. I have a beautiful, spirited young lady who will, if I ask, accept to carry on my lineage.”
The leather settee creaked as Percy sat up straight. “If you ask?”
Charles did not turn from the window. “What…what am I to do?” he whispered.
Nicole finished reading the letters a second time and then stepped away from Anne and the child. Most of the staff had returned indoors. Will and one of the footmen were unpacking the carriage hold. Only Anne was watching, and Nicole knew she needed to say something. “I think I shall go for a walk.”
“But don’t you wish to freshen up from the journey?” Anne asked.
“No, I shall just…” Not knowing what further to say, Nicole simply excused herself and left. She took the little path that led around the manor, being careful not to allow her feet to begin hastening until she was out of sight. Even then she did not run, though she wanted to race so fast her feet would grow wings and fly her far away from here. Someone might be watching. If not a maid on the back balcony, then a gardener or one of the visitors. Someone was always watching here.
The gardens were meticulously tended, laid out in checkerboard patterns of greenery and flowers and shrubs. Even the bushes were trained to grow in a certain manner, then cut to resemble a castle wall. Freestanding shrubs were trimmed to favor birds, rabbits, and squirrels. The trees had been planted and made to form orderly lines of shade. Nicole continued down the long path now leading away from the manor. Overhead, birds flitted and bees hummed, drawn by the fragrant fruit that pulled heavy on the branches. She finally reached the path’s end and walked over the cattle guard—a trough with a narrow-planked bridge over which cattle would not pass. Beyond this began the first of the manor’s fields. Only here did Nicole permit the first tears to fall.
It was not a longing for family that left her filled with such sorrow. Time and events had scattered those closest to her heart, so that there were as many of her loved ones in England as there were in Nova Scotia or Louisiana. And she did love her uncle Charles. He was a good man, with a fine heart and a great mind. She knew without a shadow of doubt that if she asked, he would release her. But she would not. Could not. Not even when her heart felt close to breaking with longing for a land so far away, so different from here in England.
Nicole followed the trail out beyond the first field, down through rushes and an ancient spread of wild oaks, finally coming to the banks of a swift-running stream. There she came upon a delightful scene, unspoiled by any taming hand. Yet even here she did not find what she truly sought. There was none of the wild vastness of the colonies. None of the challenges of great open vistas, nor the feeling that came from days of traveling from village to capital. Here the winters did not blast off the sea with raging fury, as she had known during the winters in Nova Scotia. Here the summers did not bake with the heat of the Louisiana bayou. Here the seasons were gentle. Even the foulest weather was milder.
Nicole wiped her face as she looked for a rock where she could sit and watch the bubbling stream. But as she sat and observed the speckled trout that lazed beneath the water’s surface, her mind searched for a different scene. One that stared out from a cliffside and over far broader, bluer waters.
It was strange how Catherine’s letter had affected her. Her mother had neither begged nor expressed any aching sorrow. Instead, she had merely related the daily events of their lives: working at the Acadian school, Andrew’s ministry, helping new families settle in, and about their neighbors and friends in Georgetown. Yet the words had caused Nicole to feel transported, taken back to the harsher world of Nova Scotia. For a single instant she’d seen everything anew that she was giving up—all she was losing by becoming Charles’s heir. Not just now, but for all time.
Nicole bowed her face over her knees and prayed as she wept. Why was it all so difficult? She knew her duty and was willing to do it. Why then did she know peace one moment and sorrow the next? Would it be her destiny always to feel torn in two? Was this a burden she had to carry all her life?
There came no answer, only birds singing and the music rising from the stream. After a while, Nicole gathered her skirts and went to the water’s edge. She crouched down and splashed water on her face to erase the marks of her tears. Then she straightened, took a long, shaky breath, and began walking back to the manor.
For Anne the final weeks of summer and the beginning of autumn swept by quickly and with ease. Work and responsibility seemed to unfold to meet her, so that soon the women’s society was rapidly growing. The two south-facing drawing rooms were converted into permanent gathering places, and the manor became an ever-increasing hive of activity.
Thomas Crowley was released temporarily from his uncle’s London offices and took up residence in the manor’s smaller gatehouse. From there he helped supervise many of their projects, especially those in which Charles had taken a personal interest. Coordinated efforts were applied to Charles’s plans to modernize farming techniques, which were expanded to include neighboring landholdings. And a more unified position was established to oppose the enclosure of common lands that had resulted in an increasing number of small farmers losing their homes. They also started health programs in the local villages, putting into practice guidelines for sanitation and infant care.
