An Unusual Bequest. Mary Nichols
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‘All in good time, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘Shall I show you over the house? You will find much to interest you, I am sure.’ Then, to Charlotte, ‘I shall expect you to dine with us. And bring your daughters.’
‘My lord, they do not usually dine with company.’
‘I am not company. As you so succinctly reminded me, I am their uncle and I wish to meet them.’
‘Very well. I will ask Miss Quinn to bring them down when the pudding is served.’
She turned and left him, passing the two gentlemen as she made for the stairs. She was aware that they were watching her go and she held her head high, but inside her heart felt as heavy as lead. The home she had known for the last twelve years was hers no longer; she was not even welcome in it. She made her way up the second flight of stairs to the schoolroom where her daughters worked under the tutelage of Miss Quinn.
All three turned towards her as she entered. ‘Mama, what has happened?’ Lizzie asked. ‘Who are those men?’
Charlotte looked at Miss Quinn, her eyebrow raised in a query.
‘They heard the door knocker, my lady,’ the governess said. ‘Such a noise it made, as if someone was determined to frighten us all out of our wits. The girls ran to look over the banister and saw them admitted.’
‘One of them is your Uncle Cecil,’ Charlotte told them. ‘The other two are his guests.’
‘The new Lord Hobart?’ queried Lizzie.
‘Yes.’
‘I knew I should not like him,’ Fanny put in. ‘And I do not. I wish they would all go away again.’
‘I am afraid that is unlikely,’ Charlotte said. ‘We must get along with your uncle as best we may. You never know, he might turn out quite charming.’ She did not believe what she was saying, but she must not allow her prejudices to influence them. ‘He has asked that you join us for pudding this evening, so I want you on your best behaviour. And, Fanny, please, please do not let your dislike show and speak only when you are spoken to.’
‘My lady,’ Miss Quinn gasped, ‘surely that is hardly appropriate. Those men…’
‘I know, Quinny, I know, but I shall be there, and I shall not allow the girls to stay more than a few minutes. Bring them when I send for them and stay close at hand to take them back.’
‘I don’t know what the world is coming to, that I don’t,’ Miss Quinn went on. ‘I’m with Fanny, I do not like those men. Lord Hobart is bad enough, but those two fops…They fill me with dread. I saw them poking in all the rooms, laughing and commenting on everything, saying there were some mighty fine pieces. I heard the thin one say, “We’ve fallen on our feet here, Gus, no doubt of it.” And then they both laughed. Horrible sound it was too, like hens cackling. How long are they proposing to stay?’
‘I don’t know,’ Charlotte answered with a sigh. She was too distressed to scold the governess for speaking her mind.
‘If it weren’t for my darlings needing me, I’d be gone this very night—’ She stopped suddenly when she realised Lizzie was looking at her in great distress and Fanny had begun to sob. ‘Oh, my little loves,’ she said, gathering them into her arms. ‘Quinny didn’t mean that. She would never leave you, never, never.’
Dinner was a nightmare. Charlotte tried to keep up a normal polite conversation, but it was impossible. Everything she said, they seemed to twist, and they asked such impertinent questions that she refused to answer, which made Cecil laugh, though his laughter was hollow. How long had the Hobarts occupied Easterley Manor, they wanted to know, and did she know the value of everything in it? And when she said she did not know and it was the province of his lordship’s man of business to provide him with an inventory, they had laughed loud and long. ‘I expect him tomorrow,’ Cecil said. ‘Then we shall see.’
Worse was to come when he insisted she send for her daughters. ‘I wish to make their acquaintance,’ he said. ‘After all, they are part of the job lot, aren’t they? Kith and kin I must include in my reckoning.’
‘You are mistaken there, my lord,’ she said, reluctantly nodding to Foster to fetch Miss Quinn and the girls. ‘They are my responsibility.’
‘But only this morning you were reminding me of my duty towards them.’
‘I did not mean you should tot them up on your inventory.’
‘You mean I am not to be responsible for their keep? How glad I am of that. Food, clothes, wages for that Miss…What’s her name?’
‘Miss Quinn.’
‘Miss Quinn. From now on you pay her yourself.’
Charlotte did not protest. She would not throw herself on his mercy, though how she was going to manage she did not know. She looked up as the door opened and Miss Quinn ushered her charges into the room. They looked very fetching in white muslin dresses, with deep satin sashes and their hair brushed until it gleamed and tied back with matching ribbons. Lizzie’s was blue and Fanny’s pink. Quinn gave them a little poke in the back and they both executed a neat curtsy.
‘Very pretty,’ Augustus chortled, surveying them through his quizzing glass. ‘What say you, Roly, ain’t they pretty?’
‘Yes, remarkably handsome. Cecil, old man, I think you should be more generous with your dead brother’s children. Put them on the inventory.’
Cecil pretended to laugh. ‘Come, girls, come to me and let me see you properly. Don’t be afraid. No one will hurt you. I am your Uncle Cecil, home from abroad to take care of you.’
They approached the table to join their mother, reluctant to go to him. ‘They are shy,’ Charlotte said. ‘Not used to strangers.’
‘I am not a stranger!’ he shouted, banging his fist on the table, making the crockery rattle. ‘I am Lord of the Manor, Squire of Parson’s End. Home from abroad. Home, do you hear me?’
‘My lord, please do not shout. You are frightening them.’
His voice softened, but was no less menacing. ‘Then remember not to behave as if I were an uninvited guest you cannot wait to get rid of. It is you who are the guests, you and your daughters, and that one…’ He nodded towards Miss Quinn hovering in the doorway. To the children he said, ‘Would you like to sit with us and have some apple pie?’
Both girls, too frightened to speak, shook their heads. He beckoned to Miss Quinn. ‘Take them away, they are not as amusing as I thought they might be.’
Quinn disappeared with her charges and a few moments later Charlotte made her excuses and left the men to their port and cigars and went up to her room to sit in a chair by the window, gazing out with unseeing eyes. Her head was reeling. How could she endure living under the same roof as her brother-in-law, she asked herself, supposing he did not decide to throw her out? Even so soon after