Scandal At Greystone Manor. Mary Nichols

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‘If the problem is put to him, he might bring it up in Parliament. We could make a fuss, bring it to the public’s attention. Raise a subscription to provide the children with homes.’

      ‘Oh, dear,’ her mother had said. ‘That sounds like a crusade.’

      And a crusade it had become, but trying to make the government move was like tickling a tortoise. Jane had decided that she must set an example—not on a grand scale, she could not afford that, but she could do something locally. A small boarding school for about a dozen orphans of soldiers in their own vicinity was what she had in mind. It might encourage others to do the same in their own localities. The five thousand pounds she had would not be enough and she had enlisted the help of the Rector, the Reverend Mr Henry Caulder and his wife, to raise funds. They had decided that the best way to do it was to find philanthropic sponsors. To encourage them, she would put her own money into the venture, she had told them. If she gave her inheritance to Teddy, it would put an end to her plans before they had even begun to take shape.

      ‘Can you not ask Lord Bolsover for more time, so that we can think of something?’ she queried.

      ‘You don’t know his lordship, or you wouldn’t even suggest it.’

      ‘If he is such an unpleasant man, why do you associate with him?’

      ‘He is in the group I play with.’

      ‘Teddy, you are a fool and I do not wonder that Papa is angry with you.’

      ‘Do you think you can bring him round? He always listens to you. I will be for ever in your debt.’

      She laughed. ‘You are in enough debt without adding me to your list, Teddy, but I’ll see what I can do with Papa. Not tonight, though. Give him time to calm down. How long will you stay?’

      ‘I cannot show my face back in London until at least Bolsover is satisfied.’

      ‘But what about your position at Halliday’s?’

      ‘What position?’

      Even the almost-unshockable Jane was taken aback by that. ‘Oh, Teddy, don’t say you have been dismissed? No wonder Papa is furious.’

      ‘He don’t know about that. Daren’t tell him. If you can’t help me, I will have to go abroad, the Indies or India or something.’

      ‘That will break Mama’s heart. And the disgrace will be hard to live down. And there’s Isabel’s wedding in a month’s time. What do you think Mark will say about a scandal like that hanging over the nuptials? Go away, Teddy, go and make yourself useful somewhere and let me think.’

      He stood up and left her. Her thinking led her nowhere, except to the realisation that she would have to forfeit her inheritance. The thought of all those orphan children continuing to suffer because of her brother’s selfishness was more than she could bear. She had always been tolerant of Teddy’s foibles, but this time he had really angered her. If it were not for her mother’s distress and her sister’s wedding, she would let him stew.

      * * *

      ‘If it isn’t Drew Ashton,’ Mark exclaimed when he saw his old friend striding towards him along Piccadilly. ‘Where have you sprung from? It’s years since I saw you.’

      ‘I’ve been in India, just arrived back.’

      ‘And looking very prosperous, I must say.’ Mark looked the other man up and down, taking in the perfectly fitting coat of clerical-grey superfine, the embroidered waistcoat, the diamond pin in his precisely tied cravat, the pearl-handled quizzing glass hanging on a chain from his neck, and the gold pocket watch. His trousers were strapped below his polished city shoes. ‘You didn’t used to be so elegant.’

      ‘I did pretty well out there. You don’t look so bad yourself. What have you been up to? How are your lady mother and Lord Wyndham?’

      ‘They are both well. As for me, I’ve been campaigning with Wellington. Came home after Waterloo and now about to be married. I’m in London to call on my lawyers about the finer points of the marriage settlement and to buy a suit of clothes for the wedding.’

      ‘You’ve time to join me for a meal at Grillon’s, surely.’

      ‘Yes, of course. Glad to.’

      Mark turned back the way he had come and they walked a little way down the street to the hotel, where they were soon settled at a table and ordering food and wine.

      ‘Tell me,’ Mark said, while they waited for the repast to arrive. ‘Why the sudden urge to visit India? I recollect you left Broadacres in somewhat of a hurry. I hope it had nothing to do with Mama’s hospitality.’

      ‘No, certainly not. Lady Wyndham’s hospitality is of the best. She made me very welcome. It was a family matter that came up suddenly and had to be attended to. I did explain that at the time.’

      ‘So you did. I had forgot. So, what are you going to do now you are back in England?’

      ‘I am thinking of buying a share in a clipper and continuing to trade. It has served me well so far.’

      ‘Trade, Drew?’

      ‘Why not? I am not so top-lofty as to turn my nose up at a good way of making a fortune’. He stopped speaking as a waiter brought their pork chops, succulent and sizzling with fat, together with a large bowl of vegetables. They helped themselves and tucked in.

      ‘A nabob, are you?’ Mark queried. His friend certainly gave that impression. It was the only way he could have come by such finery without inherited wealth, which Mark knew he did not have.

      ‘You could say that. I went out with the intention of making a fortune and in that I succeeded. I am no longer the poor relation to be pitied because no young lady of any standing would consider me.’

      ‘I’m sure that isn’t true, Drew.’

      ‘Oh, it is, believe me. The young lady I wanted to marry turned her proud nose up at me. Not good enough, you see.’

      Mark detected a note of bitterness in his old friend’s tone ‘There are plenty more fish in the sea.’

      ‘Indeed, yes, although, unlike you, I am in no hurry to become leg-shackled.’

      ‘I am not in a hurry. We have known each other since childhood.’

      ‘Tell me about her. Is she beautiful? Does she have a pleasing temperament?’

      ‘Yes, to both questions. You have met her, Drew. Her name is Isabel Cavenhurst.’

      ‘Cavenhurst!’

      ‘Yes, you sound surprised.’

      ‘No, no,’ Andrew said hastily. ‘I do remember the name. Don’t the Cavenhursts live close to Broadacres?’

      ‘Yes, on the other side of the village at Greystone Manor. We went there several times while you were staying with us. Surely you remember that?’

      ‘Yes, now you remind me, I do. There were three young ladies, I recall, though the youngest

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