The Viscount's Scandalous Return

‘Don’t you dare say a word against him! I won’t deny there is some justification in what you’ve said about both Troake and Toby Marsh. But I would never be without my darling Beau! Why, if it hadn’t been for him the house would have been broken into on at least three occasions that we know of these past months. Furthermore, but for him, we wouldn’t be having rabbit stew for supper. He managed to root out half a dozen in the top meadow.’

Bessie, ever sharp, wasn’t slow to pounce upon this interesting snippet. ‘In that case, where be the other two?’

Isabel had the grace to look a little shamefaced in view of what had been mentioned already. ‘I let Toby take them home to his mother.’

Bessie cast a despairing glance up at the ceiling. ‘Now, why doesn’t that surprise me none, I wonder! I don’t suppose you took a moment to consider we’ve an extra mouth to feed, now that young cousin of yours has taken refuge in the house. Now, I ain’t saying you shouldn’t have taken her in the way you did, she being the only child of your papa’s dear sister, and the only close kin you’ve left in the world that’s ever had any dealings with you. And there’s no denying she, too, be worth her weight in gold,’ she hurriedly conceded. ‘I do declare the house has never looked so clean and tidy for many a long year. I defy anyone to find a speck of dust about the place! And sew …? I’ve never known anyone set a neater stitch than Miss Clara, not even your sainted mother. It’s a pleasure to show folk into the front parlour nowadays, what with the new curtains, and all.’

It was clear that Bessie was at least a staunch supporter of the young woman who had surprisingly turned up on the doorstep late one evening a month before, almost begging sanctuary. Isabel hadn’t recognised the beautiful stranger as the young cousin she had seen only a few times in her life, and then many years ago, when her aunt and cousin had paid the occasional visit to London. None the less, she hadn’t doubted her authenticity. Nor did she regret for a moment the decision she had made to help her hapless relation, who had been fleeing from a forced union with a man old enough to be her father. All the same, she couldn’t help feeling that her act of kindness might bring trouble in the future.

She tried not to dwell on this uncomfortable possibility as she enquired into the whereabouts of her relative, and by so doing gave rise to a look of comical dismay in her ever-faithful companion.

‘The young curate were round here again, bright and early this morning, with a few more newspapers from up at the vicarage. It’s good of him, I suppose. But it do put queer notions into your cousin’s head. Now, I ain’t saying Miss Clara ain’t in the right of it not wishing to be a burden on you,’ Bessie went on, somehow managing to preserve a serious countenance. ‘But what wife and mother in her right mind would ever employ such a beautiful girl as a governess? She seems to suppose someone will, though, and begged a lift with the local carrier into Merryfield so that she might visit the sorting office with her reply to an advertisement she spotted in one of them there journals.’

Smiling wryly, Isabel shook her head. ‘Yes, you’re right. Clara has the sweetest of dispositions. She’s hard-working, can set a stitch better than most, and she is far from dull-witted. Sadly, though, she isn’t very worldly.’

She was suddenly thoughtful. ‘I just hope she doesn’t come to regret this determination of hers to find employment. I cannot help but feel that the fewer people who know her present whereabouts the safer it will be for her. Should her stepmother discover where she is, I’m not altogether sure I could prevent her from removing Clara from under this roof.’

The application of the front-door knocker successfully brought an end to the conversation. The housekeeper made to rise from the table, but Isabel forestalled her by saying she herself would go. Although mistress of the house, she had never been too proud to answer her own front door, should the need arise.

Consequently, as soon as she had washed her hands, removed her soiled apron and made herself reasonably presentable by repositioning a few wayward strands of hair, she went along the passageway to discover a man of below-average height awaiting her on the other side of the solid oak barrier.

Everything about him suggested a professional man, so Isabel wasn’t in the least surprised to have a business card thrust into her hand bearing the names of Crabtree, Crabtree and Goodbody, a firm of lawyers based in the metropolis.

‘And you are?’ Isabel enquired, her great fear that he might have come in connection with her cousin Clara’s present whereabouts diminishing somewhat by the fact that the notary was flanked by two young children. By their clear resemblance to each other, Isabel felt they must surely be brother and sister.

‘Mr Goodbody, ma’am,’ he answered promptly, doffing his hat, whilst all the time favouring her with a scrutiny that was no less assessing than her own had been. Evidently he had decided that, although not in the least stylishly attired, she bore all the other characteristics of a young woman of refinement, for he added, ‘Would I be correct in assuming I have the pleasure in addressing Miss Mortimer, daughter of the late Dr John Mortimer?’

Isabel would have been the first to admit that she had been reared to conduct herself in a genteel manner, at least for as long as others had had an influence on her behaviour. Years of increasing responsibilities had tended, however, to persuade her to disregard social niceties, and adopt a more forthright approach when dealing with her fellow man. Some, it had to be said, found her abrupt almost to the point of rudeness, whilst others considered her no-nonsense approach commendable.

Seemingly Mr Goodbody fell into this latter category, for he betrayed not a modicum of disquiet when she demanded to know precisely why he had called, and answered promptly with, ‘I am here at the behest of the present Lord Blackwood, ma’am.’

Although intrigued, and quite naturally interested to discover the seventh Viscount Blackwood’s present whereabouts, Isabel couldn’t help experiencing a feeling of disquiet where the two children were concerned. She could detect no resemblance whatsoever to the dapper little lawyer, which instantly begged the question of whose children they were. An alarming possibility instantly sprang to mind. None the less, although renowned for her no-nonsense manner, she was also known for her innate acts of kindness. The little girl, clearly weary and afraid, clung to the older child like a limpet, instantly rousing Isabel’s sympathy.

‘In that case, sir, you’d best bring the children into the house, and we’ll discuss the matter which has brought you here in the comfort of the front parlour.’

Bessie had not exaggerated about the transformation that had taken place since Clara’s arrival in the house. Tirelessly she had worked on making new curtains. She’d repaired all the upholstery where she could, and had even taken the trouble to embroider new covers and cushions to place over those worn areas that had been beyond her skill to repair. Clearly Mr Goodbody was favourably impressed, for he cast an admiring glance about him the instant he entered the largest room in the house.

After settling the two children on the sofa, and furnishing the lawyer with a glass of Madeira, Isabel once again asked for an explanation for the visit, adding, ‘And would I be correct in assuming that his lordship’s whereabouts is no longer a mystery, and he is presently in the country?’

All at once the little man’s expression became guarded. ‘I’m afraid I am not in a position to divulge his lordship’s current whereabouts, Miss Mortimer. All I am able to reveal is that a successful outcome to the enquiries regarding past—er—unfortunate happenings will not be long delayed now. In the meantime, his lordship feels himself unable to take up his responsibilities with regard to these two young persons.’

There wasn’t so much as a flicker of compassion in the glance Isabel cast the children this time, before fixing the notary with a haughty stare. ‘And what, pray, has that to do with me, sir?’ she enquired in a voice that would have frozen the village pond on the warmest summer’s day. ‘His lordship’s private domestic arrangements are entirely his own affair.’

‘Indeed, yes, Miss Mortimer,’ he readily concurred, having seemingly realised in which directions her thoughts were leading. ‘Perhaps if you were to read his lordship’s letter first,’ he added, delving into the leather bag he had carried into the house. ‘It might set your mind at rest on certain matters.’

Still very much on her guard, Isabel, with some reluctance, took the missive from the notary’s outstretched hand, and broke the seal to read:

My dear Miss Mortimer,

I am fully cognisant of the debt of gratitude I already owe you, and the charge I would settle upon you now. Believe me when I tell you the decision to place my wards into your care was not taken without a deal of consideration, and I can only trust to your forbearance in this matter.

The estimable Mr Goodbody is in a position to answer any questions you might have with regard to my wards, and has been instructed to reimburse you in advance for the expenses you will undoubtedly incur whilst the children are in your care. If, however, you feel unable to burden yourself with the responsibilities of a surrogate guardian, I shall perfectly understand.

And will have the honour to remain,

Your obedient servant,

Blackwood

Although there was a certain familiarity in the tone of the missive, Isabel couldn’t find it within herself to be offended. At least it had vanquished the idea that she was being asked to care for the Viscount’s by-blows!

After reading the letter through again, she raised her eyes. ‘So these children are Lord Blackwood’s wards.’

‘Indeed, they are, ma’am,’ the lawyer duly confirmed, before instructing the boy to stand and make his bow. ‘This is Master Joshua Collier, who has recently celebrated his ninth birthday, and his young sister, Alice, who is six.’

Isabel, having had little experience of children, was at a loss to know what to say to the siblings to put them at their ease, while she considered more fully the errant Viscount’s request. The boy stared back at her now with an almost defiant gleam in his dark eyes, as though he was more than ready to challenge any authority she might in the future attempt to exert over him, while his little sister merely stared, awestruck, as though she were looking at a being from another world. Fortunately the slightly embarrassing silence was brought to an end by Isabel’s cousin unexpectedly entering the room.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry. Bessie quite failed to mention you had visitors.’

‘No need to apologise,’ Isabel assured her. ‘Your arrival is most timely.’

She was now quite accustomed to the effect her strikingly lovely cousin always had on members of the opposite sex, most especially those who came face to face with her for the very first time. And Mr Goodbody was no exception! Although he refrained from gaping, there was no mistaking the look of appreciation he cast the stunningly lovely girl who glided towards him in order to clasp his outstretched hand.

Few gentlemen, Isabel suspected, would be proof against such wide, brilliant blue eyes, and the sweetest of smiles, set in a heart-shaped face. It was a countenance truly without flaw, and crowned with the brightest of guinea-gold curls.

‘Would you be good enough to take Master Joshua and his sister into the kitchen and provide them with something suitable to eat and drink, Clara? I’m sure they must be hungry after their journey.’

‘Of course,’ she obligingly replied, holding out her hand to the little girl who, after a moment’s hesitation, seemingly decided she would be happy to go with the pretty lady with the kindly smile. Her brother, evidently less impressed by Clara’s physical attributes, frowned dourly up at her before following them from the room, the prospect of plum cake and apple tart seemingly having won the day.

‘Now that we are able to discuss the matter more freely, Mr Goodbody,’ Isabel began, the instant they were alone, ‘perhaps you would be good enough to enlighten me as to why his lordship felt himself unable to place the children with a relative or friend? After all, I am neither. His lordship and I have never exchanged so much as a pleasantry.’

‘And that, I strongly suspect, is one of the main reasons why he chose you above anyone else.’ Frowning, the lawyer considered more fully for a moment. ‘Given what you have unselfishly done on his behalf, his lordship must be satisfied as to your integrity. Naturally, he has the children’s best interests at heart. Until such time as he is able to undertake the duties of his guardianship, he wishes his wards kept well away from their uncle’s sphere—their late mother’s brother, that is.’

‘Does his lordship believe the children’s uncle means them harm?’

‘I shall be diplomatic here, Miss Mortimer,’ he responded after a further moment’s consideration, ‘and say that neither his lordship nor myself believe the gentleman to be in the least trustworthy. He resided with his sister throughout the last year of her life, during which time certain irregularities came to light with regard to her finances. One can only speculate as to why so many large sums were withdrawn from her bank during this period. Furthermore a letter, supposedly written by the children’s mother, unexpectedly came to light shortly after her death. In it she requested an adjustment to her will, naming her brother sole guardian to her children, and sole beneficiary in the event of their deaths, giving the reason for the changes as a staunch belief that the present Lord Blackwood would be an unfit guardian. I am now in possession of certain letters written over the years by Sarah Collier to his lordship, the last one penned no more than three months ago, that clearly refute this. Therefore, it is my belief that either pressure was brought to bear upon the lady, when she was not in full possession of her faculties, to make adjustments to her will, or the letter is a complete forgery. I strongly suspect the latter.’

‘There was nothing suspicious about her death, though, surely?’ Isabel asked gently.

‘Nothing whatsoever, Miss Mortimer,’ he assured her. ‘She died of typhus.’

Isabel was far from sure that she wished to burden herself with the responsibilities of caring for two recently orphaned children. After all, what would happen if the uncle should happen to come to Northamptonshire in search of his niece and nephew?

‘I think that most unlikely, Miss Mortimer,’ the lawyer assured her, after she’d voiced this fear aloud. ‘The uncle, Mr Danforth, is completely unaware of his lordship’s present whereabouts. If he chose to make enquiries, all he would discover is that the Manor and his lordship’s town house are still unoccupied, as they have been for more than eight years, save for one reliable servant in each. Furthermore, Danforth knows I removed the children from their home. I know for a fact that my own house has been watched during this past week. I strongly suspect that he believes, you see, I

have the children safely hidden in London. By the time he has exhausted every possibility, and I have several sisters residing in the metropolis, it is fervently hoped that his lordship will have been cleared of all charges against him, and I myself shall have proved beyond doubt that Sarah Collier’s supposed adjustment to her will is entirely fraudulent.

‘But until such time, and if you are agreeable,’ he went on, when all Isabel did was to stare at him in thoughtful silence, still unsure what she should do, ‘his lordship has instructed me to give you this, in advance, in the hope that you will accept the responsibility he would place upon you.’