A Grave Inheritance (7 page)

I nodded, ready as I would ever be.

Chapter Four

Two Letters

I stood in the street and stared up at the redbrick mansion of Lady Catherine Dinley. The enormous Georgian townhome was perfectly symmetrical, each half a mirror reflection of the other. From the rows of large rectangular windows, I counted three full stories in addition to another floor built partially below ground level, most likely to house the servants. The front door stood dead center, framed on either side by decorative square stone columns. Four more square columns, two on either side of the home, ran along the brick façade some distance from the front door, stretching majestically from the ground up to the roofline.

The other carriage arrived shortly after us. A footman opened the door and Nora was the first to tumble out. She came up to me, her neck craned just as mine had been in an attempt to take in the entire house.

“Is this our humble lodgings?” she asked.

“Yes,” Henry answered. “I hope you find it to your liking. Lady Catherine Dinley is a most obliging woman.”

“Oh, dear,” Nora said, somewhat dismayed. “Another noble I am bound to offend with my simple ways. Do you think she will toss me out the first time I use her Christian name?” She turned toward me. “Don’t get too attached yet as we may be seeking another place to stay tonight.”

James stood on Nora’s other side. “Just be yourself,” he said kindly. “I’m sure Lady Dinley will understand.”

My mouth fell open with an indignant breath.
Just be yourself!
I could have strangled him as he looked at Nora with a sympathetic smile. Since our first meeting, I had tried to be myself and had only managed to earn James’s contempt for my efforts. As a fully committed Quaker, Nora posed ten times more of a threat to the peerage than I ever did, despite my strong dislike for the system. All I wanted was to marry a single lord. If she had her druthers, the entire noble class would be abolished, yet somehow I was the villain.

Clearly, the man was an idiot.

“You will find that Lady Dinley is not a typical noble,” Henry said, “which is probably why we get along so well. For a widow, she is quite liberal minded, and will not object to being informally addressed any more than I do. Besides, I’ve already warned her about your customs.”

There was a time, I thought, when Henry might have had a very different opinion regarding the use of titles, especially when being addressed by a commoner. Though not so long ago, that was before he had come to the Colonies and lived among the Quakers. For Nora’s sake, I hoped he was right about Lady Dinley.

“I’ll trust your opinion, Henry Fitzalan,” Nora said, still somewhat skeptical, “and will be prepared to duck all the same.”

Henry laughed and placed a hand on my elbow. “Shall we go inside?”

Six stone steps led to the front door where another powdered footman greeted us. Bowing deeply to Henry, he guided us through a large vestibule with a polished stone floor and high domed ceiling, into a formal drawing room. The richly papered walls and gilded furnishings exceeded anything I had ever seen before, and I had to fight the urge to turn a slow circle in awe. I settled instead for stealing surreptitious looks while attempting to keep a disinterested expression. Brighmor looked a beggar’s hovel in comparison.

“I will inform her ladyship of your arrival, my lord.” The footman bowed again to Henry, and left the room.

Nora rolled her eyes. “I’ve never seen so much bobbing in my entire life,” she said, apparently more concerned with the social customs than the beautiful room. “It’s a wonder the man isn’t half bent by the end of each day.”

“There is a rack below stairs for just that purpose,” a woman said, her pleasant voice catching us by surprise as she came into the room. “Some swear the device is only suitable for torture, but there’s nothing better to work the cricks out after a day of bobbing.”

I turned toward her, my breath catching in my throat. She was a stunning creature, about my height with rich auburn hair and fair skin set to perfection by an apple-green silk gown. Judging by her youthful complexion, she couldn’t be a day above twenty-one years.

“Don’t worry your mind,” the lady continued, looking at Nora. “A few turns of the handle and he’ll be good as new. The screaming can be rather trying on the nerves though, which is why I’ve always kept it in the servant’s quarters.”

Nora blushed, her cheeks turning a faint pink. “Please forgive my rudeness. I’ve a very bad habit of speaking my mind.”

Our hostess’s dark blue eyes sparkled with gaiety. “A habit I hope you will never lose.” She gave Nora a subtle wink, then turned to Henry, a smile playing on her mouth. “Good day, Lord Fitzalan. Will you be so kind as to introduce me to your party?”

“My pleasure,” he said. “Lady Dinley, this is Miss Selah Kilbrid and her traveling companions, Nora and Lucy Goodwin. And that shy creature is Beth, their maid, I believe.” Beth stood a few paces behind Lucy, staring fixedly at the floor as though willing herself to disappear. Upon hearing her name, she bobbed a quick curtsey without lifting her eyes.

Lady Dinley looked at each of us in turn before bringing her attention back to me. “So this is the mysterious girl from the Colonies who has stolen Lord Fitzalan’s heart. All of London has been abuzz with your name these past months.” Smiling, she extended a delicate hand to me. I accepted, putting my gloved hand in her palm. She placed her other hand on top of mine and stared at me in silence. “It is very good to meet you Miss Kilbrid,” she said after a moment, releasing me from her stare as she let go of my hand. “It is a pleasure to make all of your acquaintances, and I welcome you to my home.”

“And you, Catherine Dinley,” Lucy said, “You are very kind to offer us lodging.”

I tensed at the first challenge to Lady Dinley’s rank. “Please call me Cate,” she said to Lucy. “Catherine is much too formal for my liking.”

I let out a slow breath, relieved to know that we would not be looking for another place to stay tonight. From Nora’s pleased smile, I knew she was thinking the same.

Lady Dinley, or Cate as she had just requested, walked over to a small Queen Anne table that held a servant’s bell. One ring brought two young ladies scurrying into the drawing room. “Sophie and Fanny, please see our guests up to their rooms. And have tea trays sent up.” She turned to Lucy. “I’m sure you would like to freshen up and rest after your journey.”

“Thank you,” Lucy said, obviously pleased by the suggestion. “I’m afraid we are all feeling a bit frayed around the edges.”

As we started from the drawing room, Cate placed a hand on Henry’s arm. He stopped and waited, with me at his side.

“Henry,” Cate said, dropping all pretenses of formality between them once the others were gone. “A letter was delivered here shortly before you arrived with Selah. I believe it requires your immediate attention.”

Henry gave her a quizzical look. “No one knew I was coming to your home today. I didn’t know myself until an hour ago. Unless...” he started, but then let his words trail off.

“Unless,” Cate persisted, “someone else learned of Selah’s arrival around the same time you did. Everyone knew she was to be my house guest, certainly any interested person would have guessed to contact you here regarding any urgent matters.” Cate pulled two letters from a pocket inside her gown, both bearing similar wax seals. Handing one to Henry, she tucked the other back into her gown.

Henry glanced at the seal, a dark shadow crossing his face. He broke the wax, and I watched the muscles tense in his jaw as he read the contents. “The princess has asked me to join her for a falconry hunt this afternoon and then to dine with her and her mother this evening.”

“I assumed it would be something of that nature,” Cate said. “She wasted no time in staking her claim. How does the old proverb go? A tame wolf wears a short leash.”

“I am no tame wolf,” Henry said tersely. “And I will not leave Selah. Please summon a servant for parchment and quill so I may send my regrets.”

Cate looked at him for a moment. “Maybe not tame,” she agreed, “but highly unwise if you intend to offend Amelia. Go to Kensington this afternoon, I shall keep Selah occupied.”

Henry put his arm around my waist, apparently unconcerned about showing her ladyship the nature of our relationship. “She just got here, Cate. Don’t ask me to leave her so soon.”

I leaned closer to him, in complete agreement with his decision.

“You are just as familiar as I am with the Hanovers’ monstrous pride,” Cate said. “Make an enemy of Amelia, and Selah will be shunned from every respectable drawing room in London. Is that what you want? To turn her into an outcast among your own people?”

“Amelia and I have been dear friends since childhood. She would never hurt me by disparaging Selah’s name.”

“Henry, do you know the saying, ‘heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned?’”

Henry smiled. “I assure you, Cate, there’s not a man in England who hasn’t committed that saying to memory since Congreve first penned the words.”

“Then I advise you not to let your emotions get in the way of your better judgment. At this point there is no reason to risk an irreparable rift between the Fitzalans and the Hanovers. Go to Amelia if for no other reason than to see how she is adjusting to the news that Selah’s ship has arrived safely. You are a reasonable man, surely you understand that by refusing her request you have nothing to gain and everything to lose.”

While she spoke, I studied her face, particularly her eyes. Though similar to my own in color, they seemed to hold a wisdom I could never dream of possessing so early in life. Maybe this had something to do with her being a widow. Regardless the reason, I decided right then that I liked her, and that Henry and I would do well to trust her judgment.

“Cate’s right,” I said, glancing up at Henry. “You should go see the princess.”

“And leave you so soon?” he asked. “Let me at least send my regrets for hunting. Then I can stay for a few more hours until it is time to dine.”

“You must honor the entire invitation,” I insisted. “At present, I know only three people in London other than Beth and the Goodwins.”
And one of them already hates me.
“Please go hunting so I can be spared from becoming the town pariah before the day is through.”

“You can always come back once you’ve dined,” Cate said cheerfully.

Exasperated, Henry ran his free hand across his forehead. “Amelia will do nothing of the sort, but I see there is no use trying to change either of your minds.” He guided me through the vestibule to the front door where he folded me in his arms and kissed me. “You had better be awake when I return,” he whispered into my ear.

His breath touched my neck, and I wanted nothing more than to pull him closer. “I promise.”

“Very well then.” He kissed me again on the tip of my nose and left.

With a sigh, I leaned against the closed door, forcing back the urge to cry. Less than thirty minutes together and he was already gone.

A swish of apple silk appeared in the vestibule. “He’ll be back soon,” Cate said.

So far, this day had presented one trial after another. “Do you really think the princess will speak against me?”

“Heavens, no,” Cate said with a small laugh. “Some say she’s a prickly sort, but Amelia is a steadfast friend and would never purposefully harm Henry or anyone he may love.”

I stared at her, confused by her apparent duplicity. “Then why did you send him away?”

She handed me the second letter from her pocket. “Because you have other matters to concern yourself with at present.”

My name was scrawled in big loopy letters across the front. Breaking the seal, I read the few sentences. Then I read them again, more slowly as my stomach began to twist. “The king has summoned me to the palace this evening.” I passed the note to her.

“So I feared,” she said, her face serious. “Be thankful Henry is preoccupied or he would insist on coming along, and this, Selah, is a battle we must fight alone. Go get cleaned up. We’ve a trying evening ahead of us.”

Sophie had returned from situating the Goodwins, and as I followed her upstairs, my stomach twisted further, going from general nervous tension to downright nausea for what lay ahead. I hadn’t planned on facing the king so soon and for the life of me, I couldn’t decide how to interpret his hasty summons. Cate had referred to the meeting as a battle, and having known me for all of ten minutes, she could have left me to face the man alone. But she hadn’t, and for that I felt grateful. She was obviously a devoted friend to Henry to involve herself in our troubles.

At the second floor, Sophie turned down a wide corridor. Six doorways came into view, three on either side of us. An ornate alcove of sorts preceded each door, setting the chambers back several feet from the corridor for additional grandeur and privacy.

The grandeur continued into the chamber where Sophie led me. Rather than plain plaster, wooden panels covered the walls, painted a celadon green, and insets of gilded molding. Damask tapestry formed the canopy over the large bed, and sheltered the two windows facing the street. A fire burned in the stone hearth that stood opposite the bed, with an armchair perfectly situated for both reading and warmth. Sophie continued past the hearth to the far corner, and I nearly cried from joy when we passed into a private bathing room. Fragrant steam rose up from the tub that had been filled in anticipation of my arrival.

I hadn’t soaked in a tub up to my neck since Meredith House in Philadelphia the night before I boarded the
Callisto.
The sensation was heaven, even with one arm held aloft as I eyed the red welt that had appeared on the tender skin above my glove line. It still stung, though not so badly as when the young wretch first grabbed me. Blurred memories tumbled through my head of a pale dirty face, and the scrabble of small fingers up my arm.

I moved my arm closer and squinted at the mark. It looked like a burn of sorts, as though I had brushed the skin against a hot cauldron in my apothecary back home. Distracted by Henry, I hadn’t noticed a lantern or a coal box in the girl’s hands, or anything else capable of causing the wound. Stranger yet was the bitter cold that had accompanied her touch.