The Dark Earl (33 page)

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Authors: Virginia Henley

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction, #General

BOOK: The Dark Earl
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“You won’t remain in England when you are widowed?”
“I hate London, and though Shugborough is lovely, it holds too many unhappy memories for me. I shall return to Slebech Hall, Pembrokeshire. I have kept it secret from my husband that my father bequeathed it to me. It is held in trust, since the law says I cannot own it.”
“That is a law that must be changed. I have joined the suffragists who campaign for women’s rights. Once I marry, I shall become a member of the Married Women’s Property Committee. Perhaps you would be willing to add your name to a petition?”
“I would be proud to sign a petition. What you are doing is most commendable. It won’t just be an uphill battle, you know. It will be a
bloody
one. Men will wage a fierce war to keep women in their place.”
Barbara looked up as a maid approached. “Dinner must be ready. The dining room is this way, Lady Harriet.”
“What a lovely room.” Harry gazed at the oversized Welsh dresser that held a display of china. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful dinner service.”
“It is a prized collection of Chinese porcelain. The treasure was acquired by a renowned ancestor, Admiral George Anson, who sailed around the world on his ship, the
Centurion
.”
“I saw the figurehead of the
Centurion
in the library at Shugborough this summer!”
Barbara was surprised. “You were at Shugborough this summer?”
“We were on our way to Ireland and our family stayed overnight in Stafford. I couldn’t resist revisiting Shugborough Hall. I attended the auction sale when I was a child, and the place enchanted me.”
“Thomas was there in August.”
Harry smiled. “Yes, he caught me trespassing and gave me a tour of the house.”
“My son has a deep and abiding love for Shugborough. He treasures it above all else. It is meet and right that it will soon be his.”
The maid wheeled in a tureen and ladled the first course into Harry’s porcelain dish. Harry realized it was part of the prized Chinese collection. “You honor me.”
“I have decided you are a lady of discerning taste, who can appreciate the aesthetic beauty of such a rare treasure.”
“I appreciate the food as well. These prawns are delicious. I can taste curry, but I cannot name the other flavors.”
“They are West Indian spices—red chili, cumin, ginger. I made this dish myself.”
Harry smiled. “My compliments to the chef. Thomas claimed that he could cook. Now I’m inclined to believe him.”
Before the meal was over, Harry knew she liked the Countess of Lichfield. She was direct and truthful, and appreciated those traits in others.
Now that I’ve met her, it is evident that Thomas takes after his mother.
Though Barbara Anson had had an unhappy marriage, Harry could tell that she did not feel sorry for herself.
One thing is certain: She has no intention of becoming an intrusive mother-in-law to her son’s wife.
When the food was cleared away, they had one last drink together, and then Harry thanked the countess for her hospitality and bade her good-bye.
Later, as she lay abed, reliving the evening, she thought about how Barbara Anson had invited her to find out if her hesitation to marry Thomas was because his mother might be half-caste. It horrified Harry to think the countess could harbor such a suspicion. She thought of Thomas.
Lord God, I hope he doesn’t think that’s the reason I hesitate.
Harry thumped her pillow.
If Barbara Anson had asked me if I loved Thomas, I would have had to admit the truth and tell her that I love and adore him.
Words that her uncle John had said, when she was contemplating marrying D’Arcy Lambton, floated in the air.
“If you are in love, you must let nothing stop you, Harry.”
She smiled as she drifted into sleep.
 
 
Earlier that evening, Thomas had dined with Solange.
He had known the young woman since she worked for his father at Ranton, the sporting estate where she helped lure the nobility to gamble away their fortunes.
When Thomas learned that the sixteen-year-old Solange was his father’s mistress, he hated and detested her. Then his father was financially ruined, and ruthlessly abandoned the young girl. When Ranton was burned, Solange was left without even a roof over her head, and Thomas’s hatred turned to pity. Like him, she was a victim of the brutish, profligate Earl of Lichfield.
Thomas took her to London, found her a job as a lady’s maid, and occasionally checked on her while he was at Oxford. Solange hadn’t lasted long as a lady’s maid. Her beauty did not please the noblewoman who employed her.
Much to Anson’s consternation, Solange took a job in a gambling hell utilizing the skills she possessed. When he realized her only alternative was prostitution, he had tempered his condemnation.
Today she was a self-sufficient woman, who leased her own town house near Shepherd Market. The fashionably dressed, elegant blond beauty, who had an air of mystery about her, turned the heads of males when she passed, and caused females to whisper about her behind their fans.
At Brown’s Hotel on Albemarle Street, Thomas held a chair for Solange, then took his own seat across the table.
“We seldom dine together, m’lord. You must have an ulterior motive.”
“I do.” He ordered Dover sole for both of them, selecting an expensive wine for her and ale for himself.
“At Ranton, you often put money in the safe for my father. Do you happen to remember the combination, Solange?”
“Zounds! That must be twelve or thirteen years ago. Though I have a head for numbers, they are usually on playing cards.”
“Yes, it seems a lifetime ago. But think hard; I need the combination to his safe.”
“How do you know it’s the same safe he had at Ranton?”
“Knowing him as I do, the safe would have been removed long before the place went up in flames.”
“I remember the combination consisted of five numbers. Perhaps they will come back to me, if you give me a little time.”
“I’d like to say take all the time you need, but I cannot.”
Solange sipped her wine. “His death is imminent, then?”
“It is.”
She smiled. “The curse I put on him is finally working.”
He changed the distasteful subject. “Brown’s serves the best Dover sole in London.”
Solange sat pondering as she ate. When she was finished, she set down her knife and fork. “I remember the first two numbers were ten and twenty, but the other three numbers completely elude me.” She shook her head. “I could sit here till doomsday and not recall them. They’ve vanished with the sands of time.”
His brows drew together in concentration. After a few minutes of silence, he smiled a rare smile. “Thank you, Solange. I know what the other three numbers are.”
“How on earth?”
“I know my father’s egotistic way of thinking.”
“Here’s some more good news. I found out that the Duke of Devonshire just acquired some statues for Chatsworth that came from the Shugborough collection.”
“Old Devonshire is a fanatic when it comes to acquiring neoclassical sculpture. I knew sooner or later, Shugborough’s statues would end up at Chatsworth. Good work, Solange. I truly appreciate the information.”
She pushed back her chair. “Thank you so much for dinner. Time to go back to work. There are some plump partridges to pluck tonight.”
 
 
Will Montagu walked across the floor of the House of Commons to speak with his friend before the session opened. He was a Tory—or Conservative, as they were called these days—and Thomas was a member of the opposition Whigs, now known as Liberals. “Congratulations, Thomas.”
“If congratulations are in order, I’m unaware of it, Will.”
“I escorted Lady Harriet to the ballet on Saturday evening. She told me that you had made up your quarrel.”
“Yes, I am wooing her. I have asked her to marry me, but as usual, Harry is being evasive. Unless she accepts, your congratulations may be misplaced.”
“She may be evasive, but she made it crystal clear that you are the one she has set her heart on.”
Thomas’s hopes suddenly soared. “Thank you for passing that along, Will. I know you wanted to engage her affection.”
“Well, it’s no secret how I feel about her, but I am thoroughly convinced that I cannot compete with you, old man.” His expression was rueful. “No man breathing can accept a woman’s disinterest. She considers me a
good friend
.”
Thomas left the session early and made his way to 61 Green Street. He rang the bell and when Hobson, the footman, answered the door, he handed him his calling card. “Lord Thomas Anson to see Lady Harriet Hamilton.”
“Please step inside, my lord, while I see if Lady Harriet is receiving.”
The footman did not return. Instead, Harry appeared at the top of the stairs. “Come up, Thomas.” Rather than take him to the drawing room, where their guests were usually entertained, she took him to her father’s library and closed the door.
Before he sat down in the Regency brass-mounted armchair, he said, “These chairs came from Shugborough Hall.”
“I didn’t know that. No wonder I love them so much.”
“I know you love Shugborough, but do you love me, Harry?”
“You expect me to confess my love for you, before you declare your undying love for me?
Bugger and balls
, you are an audacious devil, Lord Anson!”
“I am, and I have no intention of declaring my undying love. You don’t care for my declarations, and you already informed me that
words
could not convince you.”
“I also informed you that I needed proof that you loved me.”
“Harry, you know how much Shugborough Hall means to me. By asking you to be my wife, I am offering to share it with you. I would not make that offer to any other lady. I warrant that is irrefutable proof of my love.” His eyes glittered silver. “This is the last time I will ask you to marry me.”
Her heart began to thud.
I do know how much Shugborough means to you. Offering to share it with me does prove that you love me.
Her resolve wavered, then disappeared completely. “Yes, I will marry you, Thomas!” He was so darkly handsome, her knees felt like wet linen at the thought that he would be her husband.
He did not sweep her into his arms. “There can be no delay. My father is dying.”
If your father dies before we marry, you will be in mourning and the wedding will have to be delayed. This will be the
third
rushed marriage. Mother won’t be pleased.
“I will speak with my parents and explain the circumstances.”
Thomas closed the distance between them and enfolded her in his arms. He looked into her eyes and brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek. “I will try to make you happy, Harry. I’ll make a formal call on your father tomorrow evening.”
 
 
“Mother, may I speak with you in private?”
The duchess had just returned from taking the younger children for a drive in the park. The weather was still lovely and warm, but she knew that by the end of September, the leaves would turn color, and by mid-October, the winds usually denuded the trees.
“On Friday evening I was invited to dine with the Countess of Lichfield.”
“You never mentioned it, Harry.”
“No, I thought you might object.”
“What made you think I would object?”
“You once told me people gossiped about Barbara Anson being half-caste.”
“I was only informing you what people whispered—I didn’t say I believed it.”
“Well, I’m glad you don’t believe it. She was born in Pembrokeshire. The lady is Welsh. It is Celtic blood that accounts for her dark coloring.”
I don’t give a fig if she has West Indian blood, but you might.
“Lady Lichfield was quite frank with me. She knows very well the rumors that circulate about London.”
“Ah yes, an intelligent woman usually learns what the gossips have to say. My dear sister Rachel was devastated when she heard the rumors about her birth, and I’m sure Lady Lichfield was deeply hurt over the scandalous gossip as well.”
“I was horrified that she might think that was the reason I hadn’t accepted her son’s proposal. I’m sure she believed me when I assured her otherwise, but then she asked if it was because my parents objected.”
“So, Harry, you are telling me that Thomas Anson asked you to become his wife, and you turned him down?”
“Yes and no, Mother.”
“Don’t be cryptic, darling.”
“Yes, Thomas asked me to become his wife, and
no
, I didn’t turn him down. At first I said
perhaps.
I told him I wanted proof that he loved me. This afternoon he came and told me the irrefutable proof that he loved me was offering to share Shugborough with me. He swore that he would not make that offer to any other lady, and I believe him.”

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