The Illegitimate Montague

‘You can, Mother! You have served the family well. They have no right to expect more from you.’ He looked at her closely. ‘But that isn’t all, is it? What is worrying you?’

She clasped her hands.

‘It is not just the wedding, Adam. There is some doubt about the inheritance—’

‘What, is not James—’

‘Master James is dead.’

‘Good heavens, when was this?’

Hannah hunted for her handkerchief.

‘Some two years since, I do not know the details—it was France, or Spain—something to do with the horrid war.’

Adam ran a hand through his hair. ‘I read that Lord Edward had perished at Waterloo, but Jamie—that makes Giles the heir!’

‘Not quite yet. The family had word that Jamie might be alive, and Lord Harry is gone to look for him.’

‘But that is good news, surely.’

‘Yes, it is, only not long after he went a woman arrived here, with a baby, saying she is Lady—that she is Master Jamie’s widow. The duke is overjoyed to have his grandson here, only—’

‘Only you think she is an imposter?’

‘I do not know, my son. It is all so confused. She seems true enough, but there are little things—and if she should prove to be a fraud, His Grace would be distraught. And he is so very ill, Adam, a mere shadow of the man he once was. His mind is going, you see, and there are so few of us left that he remembers. I do not think I can leave him while there is so much turmoil here, so much to distress him.’

‘I have not seen His Grace since I was twelve,’ said Adam pensively. ‘I was about to depart for the naval college in Portsmouth and he summoned me, to bid me farewell, do you remember? He told me to make everyone proud of me.’

‘And we were, my son. When we read in the dispatches about your bravery at Trafalgar, His Grace sent down a bottle of his best wine for us to toast your health!’

As if I was his own son. The words rose unbidden to Adam’s mind. It was an effort not to speak them, but if his mother had sworn an oath of silence he would not ask her to break it. He had caused her enough pain. He watched his mother turn to put another log on the fire. The plain gold band on her wedding finger was real enough, and there was the emerald ring she wore on the little finger of her right hand on high days and holidays—she had told him once that had been a betrothal gift from his father.

Two substantial rings, tokens from a man of means, such as the duke. As a child, the idea that the Duke of Rothermere was his parent had seemed preferable to not having a father at all but once Adam joined the navy it had ceased to be important. The question was still there, at the back of his mind. It always would be, but he would not let it come between him and his mother again. He was his own man, and proud of it.

Hannah shook off her reverie and looked up, smiling.

‘I am eating in the servants’ hall today. Will you join me, Adam? I would like to show you off.’

Adam grinned.

‘I should be delighted to take lunch with you.’ He held the door open for his mother and followed her out into the corridor, where she addressed the maid who was scurrying by.

‘Becca, we will be having a guest join us for luncheon in the servants’ hall. See to it that another place is laid, if you please.’ She looked at the watch dangling from her waist. ‘It is not nearly so late as I thought—’ Hannah broke off as she saw that the little maid was still standing there, wringing her hands nervously before her. ‘Well, Becca?’

‘Please, m’m, Cook asked me to go and fetch another pot of cream. If I goes back without it …’

‘You may tell Cook that I have sent you back with a message,’ said Hannah, patiently repeating herself. ‘Make sure there is another place laid at the table, Becca, and I will fetch the cream.’ She threw an amused glance towards Adam as the maid hurried away. ‘I was going to suggest we might take a stroll, but it seems I now have an errand.’

‘Then I shall come with you,’ said Adam. He added mischievously, trying to maintain the lighter mood, ‘Who knows, I might catch a glimpse of a pretty dairymaid… .’

They turned to make their way outside, but as they traversed the passage a lanky young footman came in and stopped at the sight of them. Hannah smiled.

‘Ah, Coyle, here is my son, Adam, come home to visit me. You won’t know Joe Coyle, Adam. He joined the family but five years ago.’

Adam nodded affably. The footman nodded back.

‘Ah, now, so it’s Captain Stratton returned, is it? I heard tell you was at Trafalgar, with Lord Nelson, God rest his soul.’

‘I was, but I am no longer a captain. I have sold out.’

Joe cast a critical look over Adam’s shabby coat.

‘Not doing so well, eh?’

Adam felt his mother stiffen beside him, but he merely shrugged, his amiability unimpaired. ‘I’m doing well enough.’

With a nod he took his mother’s arm and moved off, leaving the footman to go on his way. Hannah put her hand on his sleeve.

‘Adam, you should not let them think your pockets are to let—’

He grinned. ‘Better that than they should be dunning me for a loan. But I am sorry that the little fracas on the way here has ruined my coat. I did not pack another, thinking to carry you off within the day.’

‘Oh, my dear—!’

‘It is no matter, Mother. You have explained to me why you cannot pack your things and fly with me immediately.’

‘But I do not want you to disappear immediately either.’

‘I promise you I shall not do that. It was truly arrogant of me to think you would drop everything to come with me. I have left my business in good order, so I can stay in Castonbury for a while.’ The image of Amber Hall rose in his mind, but he dismissed it quickly. He placed his hand under his mother’s elbow. ‘Now, let us make haste to the dairy, before Cook is driven to a rage by a lack of cream.’

Hannah led the way outside and they followed the path that ran around the kitchen wing. The sash windows of the servants’ hall had been thrown up to make the most of the warm spring day, and as they passed, Joe Coyle’s voice came floating out to them, saying with painful clarity, ‘So Cap’n Stratton’s back, His Grace’s by-blow …’

Hannah stopped, her face pale, but before Adam could speak he heard the butler say sharply, ‘You’d best keep such thoughts to yourself, lad, if you don’t want to be turned off.’

‘But ‘tis common knowledge, Mr Lumsden—’

‘Common nonsense, that’s what it is,’ retorted the butler. ‘You’ll get short shrift if you repeat such gossip in this house, Coyle.’

Adam put his hand beneath Hannah’s arm and gently moved her away.

‘Adam—’

‘You need say nothing, Mother. There has always been gossip, even when I was a boy.’

‘Ah, my son, I thought to shield you from that!’

He shrugged.