Page 7 of Secrecy (The Chaplain’s Legacy #4)

T ess received a steady stream of letters from Corland, sent to Harfield Priory, where she was presumed to be staying, and brought to Holly Cottage by a long-suffering groom. Her mother wrote regularly, but without saying anything of interest. Olivia spoke only of her own complaints, and the blighting of her prospects now that she was illegitimate. Josie wrote reams of motherly advice, offering the comfort she supposed Tess to need. And occasionally Tom Shapman wrote.

‘Miss Nicholson, I hope you are well. Captain Edgerton has been here. He knows about our friendship. Wants to talk to you. If you don’t come back, he says he’ll have you arrested. Your friend, T. Shapman’

Tess laughed long and hard at that one. Tom was a man of few words, but she had no doubt he was reporting Captain Edgerton’s words faithfully.

‘My dear Tom, You must not worry about Captain Edgerton. He cannot have me arrested. If he wants to talk to me, he may come here, if he pleases, but I am too much occupied to return home just now, but do keep me informed of what they are up to. Tess’

The next letter threw her into a spin.

‘Miss Nicholson, I hope you are well. You asked for news of Captain Edgerton. Rumour says he’s looking to Pickering now. Your father had businesses there as well as the house. Your friend, T. Shapman’

At once she dashed off a reply.

‘Tom, This is dreadful news! Businesses? What businesses could Papa have had? I cannot understand it, but it hardly matters for if it gives Captain Edgerton an excuse to start snooping round Pickering, then I am sunk! He will go into the house and be bound to find the safe. Or perhaps my fortune is secreted in one of these businesses, but whatever the truth, the captain will find it all out and I shall never get my hands on my fortune. This is a disaster! If only there were some way to call off the captain once and for all, but I fear that he is one of those people who never, ever gives up. Oh, Tom, whatever am I to do? Your distraught Tess’

With this worry at the back of her mind, Tess became more than ever determined to secure Ulric, at least in a betrothal until she came of age, for she was under no illusion that her mother would approve of the marriage. With this in mind, she began to talk very frequently to Ulric about Myercroft and how pleasant it would be for him to live there, just as he had as a small boy, with his mother and younger brothers and sisters. He had some memory of living there, surprisingly, and he had dined with the tenants, Sir Ernest and Lady Peterson many times, and he agreed that it would be pleasant to live there.

“Like to live with Sir Ernest and Lady Peterson,” he said. “Always have a good dinner.”

“If you were to live there, then Sir Ernest and Lady Peterson would leave,” Tess said. They had ridden out to a different inn — Ulric knew every inn within riding distance of Myercroft — and were sitting on a bench in the sunshine outside, their backs resting against the inn’s rough stone wall.

“Why do they want to leave?”

“I dare say they do not, but it is your house, Ulric. If you want to live in it, the Petersons would have to move out.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Because that is how it works. They only live there because you do not, and the house would be empty otherwise. You would like to live at Myercroft with your horses, would you not?”

“Like that,” he agreed. “Like to live at Myercroft with the horses.”

“Your mama would like to live there, too, I am sure.”

“Yes. Mama would like that.”

“She would. Indeed she would,” Tess said happily. He was getting the point.

But then Ulric frowned again. “Cousin Edward won’t allow it. Mama tried, last year. Wouldn’t allow it.”

“Your mama does not have the right to ask, but if you were married, Ulric, your wife would certainly have the right to ask for Myercroft to be given back to you.” He had the right himself, but there was no point confusing him.

“Don’t have a wife.”

“No, but you are a grown man, now. You can marry whenever you please. All you have to do is find a friendly female who would like to marry you.” And in case he did not see the obvious, she added, “Someone who enjoys the same things that you do — like riding, for instance.”

He made no answer to that, but she was content to have sown the seeds of the idea in his mind.

In fact, progress was so promising that she felt emboldened to write to her uncle, the earl, and hint that she might very soon be engaged to be married, and would be able to take possession of her house, pointing out that she would take it very much amiss if anyone else, such as Captain Edgerton and his friends, had been poking around there before her. That, she hoped, would be enough to preserve the safe above the coach house until she could get to it.

***

T ess had been out for an even longer ride with Ulric, one that involved no fewer than three different inns, and was trudging wearily back to Holly Cottage. Rain had caught them out on the final stretch, and although it was not heavy, she was thoroughly damp and mud-bespattered, the jaunty feather in her hat drooping sadly, when she emerged from the shrubbery onto the drive.

There, drawn up in front of the entrance, was a fine carriage, a little travel-stained but with the coat of arms on the door clearly visible. A man was just stepping down from it, and Tess did not need the insignia to identify the owner of such a vehicle. Lord Tarvin’s stern face was all the evidence she needed.

The whole family had gathered on the steps to receive him, the children in varying degrees of excitement, and the ladies looking terrified.

“Oh! Tess!” Mrs Harfield cried, hand to mouth, as if warning her of some impending disaster. Too late for that.

He turned, saw her and his expression darkened even more. “You!” he cried, in a rousing voice worthy of Drury Lane. “You are the cause of all this trouble.”

It was far from the meeting she would have wished. She felt all the disadvantage of situation — he as immaculate as if he had just that moment left his dressing room, and she looking as if she had been crawling through ditches. A little warning would not have gone amiss, so that she could have slipped in through the kitchen door and up the back stairs. But perhaps his coming was a surprise to all of them. Still, there was no avoiding it now, and Tess was not about to be cowed by a supercilious baron.

“Good day, Lord Tarvin. I trust your journey was satisfactory.” She made him an ironic little curtsy although it was doubtful if he had the capacity to recognise irony.

“No, it was not satisfactory,” he thundered. “It was, as all journeys are, uncomfortable and tedious. Nor should it have been necessary. It is most inconvenient for me to leave town just now, but something must be done to put a stop to your nonsense. You cannot marry Ulric.”

“Why not?” she said sweetly.

“It should be obvious, even to you, why not. I shall not permit it.”

“What are you going to do, forbid the banns?” she said, with a spurt of laughter. “Try not to make a cake of yourself, sir. Ulric is of age, and may marry whenever and whomsoever he pleases.”

He crossed the drive in three paces, and stood not a foot away from her. “Not if I have anything to do with it,” he hissed. “You will pack your bags and return to the Priory with me.”

“I am here as Mrs Harfield’s guest, to help with the children.”

“She will have to manage without you.”

Tess looked at Mrs Harfield, and saw at once that there was no help to be had there. “Do you wish me to leave, ma’am?” she said, but she already knew the answer.

“Best to do as Edward says, my dear.”

There was no point in fighting it. “Very well. I shall have to change, as well. I am not sure how long—”

“You have an hour,” he said uncompromisingly. “Is Ulric at Myercroft? Very well, I shall walk over there to see him. When I return, I shall expect you to be ready to leave. You have a maid to accompany you?”

“I do, and a footman.”

“The maid will sit inside the carriage with you, and the footman will sit on the box with Timothy Coachman. Timothy, bait the horses and be ready to leave again in an hour.”

And he strode off without another word.

Tess hurried inside, a little dismayed by this setback, but not yet ready to surrender the point.

“I am so sorry, my dear,” Mrs Harfield said, rushing after her, “but there is never any point in arguing with Edward, you know. He has very fixed ideas, and besides… he is… kind when there is a problem. Oh, he grumbles, naturally, and rings a peal over me, but he always bails me out when things get difficult.”

“He pays your debts, you mean? Yes, I can see why you would not take up arms against him. Nevertheless, I do not mean to let him hinder my plans. I shall find a way to get back here, and then I must tie Ulric up in a betrothal, a proper one that he understands, so you must explain to him what he must do.”

“What must he do?” she said, wide-eyed.

“Why, propose to me, of course. Make it clear to him that if he marries me, he will get Myercroft and as many horses as he wants. New, bigger stables, if he chooses, because all his income will be in his control. Well… yours and mine, but he will think he is in control, and that is what matters.”

“Oh, my dear, you are so brave!”

“Nonsense! Bullies like Lord Tarvin do not frighten me. But I must get out of this habit and into dry clothes, and Betty must pack. Send her up to me, will you? It seems we are going back to the Priory.”

***

E dward’s talk to Ulric was frustrating in the extreme. No matter how much Edward pointed out the advantages of living at Holly Cottage, Ulric would reply that he would like to live at Myercroft with his horses and his mama, always listed in that order. Then he would frown and say it was a pity that Sir Ernest and Lady Peterson would leave because they always had good dinners.

“Ulric, we talked about this last year, if you remember, and it was agreed that you and your mama would stay at Holly Cottage.”

“Mama wanted to live at Myercroft,” Ulric said.

“And it was agreed in the end that it would be best to keep things as they are.”

“Mama had no right. A wife would have the right.”

“You cannot marry, Ulric.”

“Yes, I can. Grown men can marry, and I’m a grown man. Cousin Tess said so. I like Cousin Tess.”

Edward gave it up, for it was obvious that Tess Nicholson — or the witch, as he had begun to think of her — had already cast her spell over the gullible Ulric, and her dangerous ideas had wormed their way into his mind and lodged there. It was going to take more than a flying visit to restore the situation to equanimity.

He walked back to Holly Lodge to find the girl herself awaiting him in the hall, already outfitted for travel in neat black. She looked remarkably presentable, in fact, all trace vanished of her dishevelled appearance of a hour ago. She was a slender creature, small and dainty, with elegant hands, he noticed. She had not yet put on her gloves, and her fingers were long and rather beautiful. He liked such hands in a female. So often a woman removed her gloves at the dinner table to reveal ugly, pudgy fingers that quite disgusted him. He was, he supposed, fastidious in such matters and was quite proud of his own well-manicured hands. Now he was surprised to find such an appealing feature in a woman he was determined to dislike.

The carriage appeared, the boxes were loaded on, farewells were made. Mrs Jack stood on the steps wringing her hands, no doubt torn between her desire to repossess Myercroft and be the lady of the manor again, and her need to keep on the right side of the man who controlled her entire income. Not that he would ever interfere with her basic allowance, but she could never keep out of debt, and it suited him for her to live in fear that he would not rescue her from such difficulties. A woman who depended on his generosity was a woman who could be constrained to act as he wished.

Tess Nicholson, on the other hand, was not dependent on him at all. Different methods were necessary for her.

As the carriage bounced down the rutted drive, Edward gazed wordlessly at the cause of all this difficulty, placidly sitting beside her maid with an innocent expression on her face, and pondered his next move. Ulric and his mother he could manage, but this girl was not so easy. He would have to be ruthless.

Not a word was spoken in the carriage until they reached the Priory. Just as the horses slowed to a stop, Edward said, “Do not get settled here, Miss Nicholson, for tomorrow you will be returning to Corland Castle.”

The impudent chit had the temerity to laugh at him. “Lord Tarvin, you may be able to browbeat your own relations, but may I remind you that you have no authority over me. If you throw me out of the Priory, there are plenty of inns and hotels in Durham which would be happy to accommodate me. Frankly, it is all one to me where I stay.”

The girl’s footman had jumped down to open the door, but Edward could not be silent. “You will do as you are bid, my girl!”

“Or what? Are you going to carry me bodily all the way to Corland? I wonder what my uncle would say to that.”

“Pft!” he said, and only years of training kept the curses that rose to his mouth from emerging. He jumped down from the carriage and strode into the house, the annoying girl’s laughter following him all the way.

Dinner that evening was tense. His mother and aunt were largely silent, only talking in whispers when absolutely necessary. Edward himself felt as if he would explode. Never in his life had he been so abominably treated! To say he had no authority over her! She was his aunt’s sister’s niece, which made her a relation of sorts… a connection, at least, and this was his house, so his wishes must prevail. How dared she defy him!

And yet she sat there calmly, quite unperturbed by the distress she was causing everyone. In some ways, he could only admire such coolness, and in evening dress she was rather appealing, he grudgingly conceded. Black suited her, and with her shining black locks piled on top of her head, only a few stray curls left to frame her face, she was almost pretty. Or she would be if she were not so damnably irritating.

By the next morning, he had calmed a little. Being angry did no good, in fact she seemed to derive strength from it, or at least amusement. It was annoying that she knew the terms of the trust, such that it must be wound up if Ulric married, there was no getting around that. But without trustees to make sensible decisions about the management of Myercroft, who would be able to do it? Not Ulric, that much was certain, and not his feckless and spendthrift mother. But Tess Nicholson was no better fitted to run an estate. How could a slip of a girl know how best to deal with tenant farmers and attorneys and neighbouring landowners? How could any woman? Females were no more suited to business than butterflies flitting from bush to bush, beautiful but with no thought for the morrow.

It was clear that Miss Nicholson could not be ordered about as his female relations were, so a different strategy was needed. He was not sure that she had any better nature to be appealed to, but it was worth a try.

When he found her alone in the breakfast parlour, therefore, he lost no time in saying, “Miss Nicholson, we got off on slightly the wrong foot yesterday, I think you will agree. I am sure that, when we discuss the matter rationally, we will find that we both have Ulric’s interests very much at heart, and can perhaps find common ground there. You would not wish to distress him, I am certain.”

“Not for the world,” she said at once. “But I do not believe that living at Myercroft would cause him distress.”

“Any disruption to his routine is potentially upsetting for him, and having a wife always about him — a relative stranger ordering his life — is bound to disturb his equanimity.”

“I have no intention of always hanging about him, Lord Tarvin. He may live his life much as he does now, except that his surroundings will be more gracious and his horses will be closer to hand.”

“So he is to be kept occupied in the stables while you and his mother bleed the estate dry, is that it?”

“Heavens, what do you take me for, sir?”

“I take you for an avaricious and devious woman, madam.”

She laughed in his face. Lord, how irritating she was! “You really would be best advised not to judge my character without knowing more about me. We met twice as children, if I recall, and once at Izzy’s wedding five years ago. How, after so little acquaintance, do you dare to label me as avaricious? I say nothing about devious, in fact, I take it as a badge of honour that I should be thought so, but avaricious? No.”

“How else would you describe the behaviour of a woman who seeks to seduce a wealthy man into marriage? I hold to my opinion, Miss Nicholson.”

“Only a willing man can be seduced,” she said with deceptive sweetness. “And now, if you will forgive me, I must change into my riding habit. I have an appointment with Ulric, and I have further to go than usual.”

“You will not take my carriage… or any of the carriages.”

“I assumed that would be the case, so I took the precaution of sending my manservant to the nearest inn to hire a horse for me.”

Edward was left speechless as she swept from the room. However, when she reached the stables, neatly attired in a different riding habit from yesterday’s muddy affair, he was waiting for her, his own horse ready saddled.

“I feel like a ride myself, this morning,” he said blandly.

“Oh, that is better!” she said, smiling up at him. “You look almost human when you stop scowling at me and pretend to be good-humoured. Will you help me mount, or shall I ask Harold to do it?”

Gritting his teeth, he tossed her up into the saddle. She weighed nothing at all — such a dainty creature! And a pretty heart-shaped face… with enticing lips…

No. She was a witch, and the embodiment of evil.

They rode in complete silence all the way to Myercroft, where Ulric greeted them with a broad smile.

“Cousin Tess!” he yelled, as soon as they clattered into the yard. Then, at the top of his voice, he went on, “Will you marry me?”

Edward swore under his breath. The girl gave an ‘Oh’ of pretended surprise, and slid from her horse in ungainly fashion.

“Ulric! I should be honoured… much obliged… yes, I should be delighted to marry you.”

And she turned to Edward with an expression of pure triumph on her face.