Page 28 of Secrets Across the Sea
Staffordshire, England – 1812 – Day 13
Accepting the chamberstick from Mary, Elizabeth made her way into the secret room, her sister close behind. One step. Two. Then another. To the left of them on the far wall, faint beams of light passed through the cracks of a thick, dark curtain, while before them stood a sizable desk, the low light showing little more than faint outlines of the room beyond.
Stepping over to the curtains, Elizabeth pulled them back, blinking as light filled the space.
Several seconds passing until she could once more view the room without discomfort, she at last gave the room her full attention.
“Clean,”
Elizabeth noted with surprise as she strode around the room. “Some dust on the books, but someone must come in here… and more often than that passageway.”
“Perhaps there is another way in?” Mary said as she moved behind the desk. “At the moment though, I am more curious about the last line of the clue. ' Slip it in and then you will know, that which can make a family grow.' Lady Charmane led us here for a purpose, and I would very much like to know it.”
“Agreed,” Elizabeth answered as she set the chamberstick on the desk. “Shall we begin here?”
Nodding, the pair examined the sparsely embellished desk; a simple inkstand, writing supplies, and a signet ring.
Nothing to explain things here, Elizabeth mused as she fingered the ring, her eyes widening at the familiar family crest. Or is there?
“Mary,” Elizabeth hurried as she held the ring out to her sister, “it is the same crest as we found earlier!”
“It is a start! If only we knew the family,” Mary said as she opened a drawer. “Maybe the answers will be in one of these?”
“It never hurts to look.”
Opening one of the drawers on the other side, both sisters began to search through the various items and papers; sealing wax, unshaped quills, spare writing paper, old household accounts, nothing which would explain the clue or reveal who the crest belonged to.
“How are you doing?” Elizabeth asked her sister, her first drawer unsuccessful.
“Unimportant papers, a couple books, and a tiny key; for a box or a drawer or something?”
“That is something, at least, so far I have only…” stilling as she opened another drawer, Elizabeth’s heart began to pound.
“What is it? Lizzy?”
Opening the drawer wider, Elizabeth stared down at its contents.
“Uncle?” Mary wondered. “And yet, it is not.”
Pulling the miniature portrait from the drawer, Elizabeth studied the face. The eyes were the wrong colour, the shape of the nose a little different, but other than that, this man could pass for Uncle’s twin. Squinting at the inscription, she gulped. Reginald F. Gardiner. Beloved husband and father. It was Uncle’s father!
But what was it doing in Lady Charmane’s house?
Meeting Mary’s gaze, Elizabeth handed the portrait to her before returning to the drawer. Several other miniatures resting within of different members of the Gardiner family–one a Lord. Setting each on the desk carefully, she began to shift more papers. A letter written but never sent, with the crest that they had been finding and the signature of one Lord Henry Gardiner, Earl of Huntingdon .
“Some relation on Mamma’s side perhaps? I never knew any of the family were titled,” Mary murmured as Elizabeth returned to the drawer.
A bundle of letters. Two handwritten poems. A lock of hair. Various trinkets. A small box containing fine jewelry. Then, underneath it all, an old family Bible.
Lifting the heavy tome, Elizabeth set it on the desk between her and Mary, the cover tooled with intricate patterns, florals, a dove, a burning bush, and other symbols taken from the stories found within. Turning to the list of births, deaths and marriages, the pair scoured it.
Their great-grandfather on the Gardiner side had been an earl… he died, his firstborn son took on the title, but there are no children mentioned, nor even a marriage. So, Uncle Gardiner’s father–their grandfather–would be next to inherit the title if he were alive, but since he died, that means… “Uncle is next in line? Surely not. This has been in the drawer for years,” Elizabeth said with uncertainty, her lips thinned as she studied everything they had found. “He is in trade, and we… we are no more connected to the Ton than he–even with Father being a gentleman. It all must be some error or hoax.”
“I am afraid it is not,” Lady Charmane announced as she pushed open a panel behind them to enter.
Gaze darting between the way they had come in and this second entrance, Elizabeth shook her head. This had to be some strange dream. No earldoms, no hidden room, no uncertainty. She would wake up any moment and nothing, aside from the passage she and Darcy had found days prior, would prove real.
“Our great uncle is an earl?” Mary questioned as Lady Charmane closed the door behind her.
A dip of her head and she answered, “Indeed, you see, Henry Gardiner and his brother, Reginald–your grandfather–were my father’s cousins by marriage.” Shrugging, she fingered their portraits with a sad smile. “When Reginald and his wife passed less than a year apart, your uncle, mother, and aunt were made to stay here. My father, having recently lost my mother and having no children but myself, came to have great plans for them, in education, but particularly in marriage. Their education he succeeded in, their marriages, well… in those he thought he failed. Your late aunt married a solicitor first, then your mother only little better in Father’s eyes, given that he was of the modest landed gentry… and then your uncle gave the final blow in that he came to love a woman of good education but from the ‘unforgivable trade class.’”
Her voice fading, Lady Charmane took the chair from behind her and made herself comfortable, as she nodded to the other seats in the corner.
Pulling one of the chairs toward Lady Charmane as Mary did the same, Elizabeth’s mind whirled. Why had no one told them before? Why had Mother sworn everyone to secrecy, even Father? And how did Lady Charmane fit into all these secrets? Taking a seat, Elizabeth and Mary leaned forward, eager to hear the rest of the story.
“The marriage of your uncle was the final straw to my father. He could stand it no more; he saw me married to a count, whom I thankfully loved, but as to your aunt, uncle, and mother, he ostracized them. He no longer invited them here or even wrote to them, and within two years, he had passed, leaving this place to wither away. I did write them all before he died, yet, as the years passed and each of us continued our own lives, we all maintained the silence. Perhaps more out of habit than anything. Then your aunt and mother were gone, with my having never met any of you. I did not wish to disturb you in your grief, and then, grief found me again, with the death of my husband… and again I did not have the heart to write.”
Shaking her head, she chuckled sadly as she pulled a black edged letter from her pocket. “Until I received this mere days before I wrote you all. You see, Lord Henry Gardiner died, and I knew your uncle would take his place as the Earl of Huntingdon before too long… so I went to visit him and his wife, and together, we came up with a plan to tell you of not only your family connections… but of the inheritance each of Francis Gardiner Bennet’s daughters would receive.”
“So, not only is Uncle to be an earl, we are to receive an inheritance?” Elizabeth asked incredulously. “Why would we receive anything at all?”
“Because your mother and her siblings were in line to inherit. Your uncle the title, estate, and holdings. Your mother and aunt sums which would have equaled that of their dowry should their father have inherited–twenty-five thousand pounds apiece. Since your aunt had no children, her share passes to your mother’s children, making the amount split between you five an impressive fifty thousand pounds.”
“Ten thousand pounds apiece?” Mary said, her shoulders slumping as she stared up at Lady Charmane.
“Your uncle wishes to add to that a sum of five thousand to each of you. That added to the dowries you each possessed already, and you all shall be quite well off!”
Sixteen thousand pounds apiece, Elizabeth thought, her throat growing tight as she considered the implications. It would be a fine thing for all of them. Fine indeed. Though they would have to keep an eye on Lydia’s suitors when she came out. Some women had greater wealth and titles to match… but sixteen thousand pounds could tempt many a man.
“Why this, this game to be told of it?” Elizabeth asked after several moments of silence, her brow furrowed as she stared at the distant cousin sitting before them. “You have had plenty of time; we have sought you out almost from the moment we came.”
“You have,” she admitted as she let her gaze drop to her lap. “Many times I wanted to, but I never knew the words. There were so many things to tell you; not of titles or money, but of family. Of the way your mother, her siblings, and I would enjoy a game of hide and seek in the maze. How your mother and I would play with our dolls in the study near the base of the clock, while Father worked away. The times we all made our way into the kitchen for a stolen treat, or sat by the fire reading a book to one another. Even the times we would travel through the secret passageways–some we thought only we knew–and the awe we felt when we found this room.” Smiling, she turned her face toward them. “There were many happy times here. Many. Even for my father, for he did love them. It was his desire for them to have the best that life could offer which led him to be as stubborn as he was at the end; as misguided. Still, he loved them even then, and I… I wanted to have you know the place your mother loved. That held memories as happy and numerous as those I have known. Forgive me for keeping this from you; you and all your sisters.”
“Why did Mother never tell us?” Mary questioned as she dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. “I know she forced our father, uncle, and aunt to secrecy, but after she was gone, why keep it? You have had days to tell us, they had a lifetime?”
“And you deserved to know. The hurt my father inflicted ran deep, and in spite of having titled relations, there was no real notion of inheritance or title passing nearer. Lord Henry Gardiner suffered no issues of health, and I suppose for a while, everyone thought he would simply marry late, produce an heir, and that the title would never pass to your uncle.” Sighing, Lady Charmane shook her head, “It was one of those things we mean to say to the ones we love but leave off until it is too late.”
Leaning back in her chair, Elizabeth wondered, How would they write all this to Kitty and Lydia? Believing it had been challenging enough in person, with the portraits and documents before them. And what of Jane?
“Can we bring Jane here? Now?” Elizabeth asked as she stood up.
“She will come soon enough,” Lady Charmane smirked as she motioned for Elizabeth to sit back down. “My butler served my father here for many years; he knows all of the passages, has helped me lay the clues, and is instructed to tactfully free her from the game so that no one is the wiser.” Eyes pulled toward the ceiling, a guilty expression began to form. “I ought to warn you of something.”
“What?” Elizabeth growled, her patience for games and subterfuge growing thin.
“Two things really,” Lady Charmane paled. “Firstly, that Lord Ramsgate overheard me discussing your connections and inheritance with my butler. And second, the announcement of your uncle’s advancement to earl is due to be made public knowledge at any moment–every reputable and disreputable printer will spread it from one end of England to the other.”