The Ragged Heiress (46 page)

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Authors: Dilly Court

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas

BOOK: The Ragged Heiress
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‘I will, Lennie,’ she murmured out loud. ‘When Uncle Bradley returns to London, which must be soon, I’ll make him listen to me if it’s the last thing I do.’ She rummaged in the dressing-table drawer for a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and left the security of her bedchamber, prepared to fight for what was hers.

Sir Hector looked up from his desk as Lucetta entered the room and half rose from his seat with a tentative smile. ‘I’m glad you came to see me, Lucetta. I would hate to think that my ill-judged advances had built an insurmountable barrier between us.’

‘Please don’t apologise, sir. I should not have run off as I did. It was very wrong of me and I am sorry to have caused you and Mary so much anxiety.’

‘Do sit down, my dear. I have something important to tell you.’

Lucetta did as he asked, perching on the edge of the chair where she used to sit and take dictation. ‘Mary told me that you had been working on my behalf.’

‘I’m not a practising barrister now, but I keep in touch with my old firm and I went to see one of my colleagues who is a notary public. I showed him the letter from Sir John Boothby and he is willing to take up your case. He has applied to the probate registry for a copy of your father’s will, and if you make an appointment to see him he will ask you to sign an affidavit declaring that you are Lucetta Froy, as witnessed by Sir John. Mary tells me that your fiancé is forced to remain ashore while his ship is being repaired, and I think that his testimony would add weight to your claim.’

‘We are not officially engaged,’ Lucetta said hastily. ‘I mean, it was a long time ago.’

‘I understand, but if the case goes to court, it would help to have someone close to you who is prepared to swear on oath that you are the daughter of the late Henry and Eveline Froy.’

‘Do you think it will come to that, Sir Hector? I can’t afford to pay a lawyer.’

‘Faced with such evidence in your favour, I doubt if Mr Froy will relish the thought of an expensive law suit or the publicity that it would generate.’

‘I hope you’re right, sir.’

He smiled, shrugging his shoulders and his blue eyes twinkled. ‘I am not often wrong when it comes to legal matters. That is one area where I feel quite confident.’

Lucetta did not know what to say. She could not forget his declaration of love for her, and despite his apology, she still felt a little uncomfortable in his presence. ‘You’re very kind and I do appreciate all your help.’

He cleared his throat and began sorting through the papers on his desk. ‘Think nothing of it. After everything you’ve suffered, you deserve nothing but the best. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my dear, I have a lot of work to get through this morning.’

She rose to her feet, relieved to have the excuse to leave the room. ‘Yes, of course. Thank you again.’

‘I’ll arrange an appointment for you to see my colleague as soon as possible.’

Lucetta paused as she was about to open the door. ‘Sir Hector, there is another matter – Lennie – I mean, Mr Guthrie – his funeral.’

‘I’ve already spoken to Giles. He’s arranging everything. He will speak to you about it.’

Lucetta nodded her head. ‘Thank you, sir.’ She left him bent over his pile of correspondence and she made her way slowly to the parlour. Her head was buzzing with the unexpected turn of events and she entered the room expecting to find Mary waiting for her, but she was not alone. Giles was standing with his back to the fire and he came towards her with a beaming smile.

‘Lucetta, how well you look this morning.’ He took
her hand and held it in answer to her mute question. ‘It is all arranged. There will be a simple service tomorrow at noon.’

Mary had been arranging chrysanthemums in a tall vase and their spicy scent filled the still air. She hesitated with a bronze-headed bloom in her hands. ‘I have a black dress you can borrow, Lucetta.’

‘No. Thank you, Mary, but Lennie hated to see women wearing black. He told me once that they reminded him of crows. He had an inexplicable horror of those birds.’

Giles eyed her anxiously. ‘You don’t have to attend, Lucetta. If it’s going to be too upsetting, Mary and I will go in your stead.’

‘That’s kind of you, Giles, but I will be perfectly fine. I must say goodbye to my old friend.’

Mary dropped the flower on the table and hurried to Lucetta’s side. ‘Of course you must, and we will be there too. I’m sure Lennie would be happy to know that you are amongst friends.’

Overwhelmed, Lucetta sank down on the sofa. ‘He had such a sad life, and he wasn’t a bad man at heart.’

‘Don’t distress yourself, Daisy.’ Mary’s face puckered with concern.

‘He was a good friend to you in the end and you did your best for him,’ Giles said gently. ‘That’s how he would want you to remember your time together.’

Lucetta managed a wobbly smile. ‘I know you’re right, Giles, but I just wish I could have done more for him.’

‘Tell me what Papa had to say just now,’ Mary said,
making a valiant effort to change the subject. ‘I know that he intends to help you get back what’s rightfully yours, but I’ve no idea how.’

‘Don’t pester the poor girl,’ Giles said, hooking his arm around Mary’s shoulders with an affectionate grin. ‘Lucetta will tell us when she’s ready.’

Lucetta looked up at them and saw them as finely matched as the most expensive pair of thoroughbreds from Tattersall’s. Their dark hair and eyes and even their smiles were so similar that they might have been brother and sister. Lucetta could not help feeling a little envious of the ease they found in each other’s company. She wished that she felt the same when she was with Sam and instantly felt guilty for even thinking such a thing. She managed a weak smile. ‘Hadn’t you better put that flower in water, Mary?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Mary hurried back to the table in the window and she placed the fallen bloom in the vase. ‘Aren’t these lovely? Giles bought them to cheer a dismal day. He is so thoughtful, sometimes.’ She flashed a mischievous smile in Giles’ direction, but his reply was drowned by the impatient jangling of the doorbell. Mary leaned over to peer out of the window. ‘It’s your Sam, Lucetta. Do you feel up to seeing him?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Lucetta said with as much conviction as she could muster. She was not certain that she was ready to face his demands on her, but there was no point in putting off the inevitable. She could hear his voice in the hallway and the piping tones of the maidservant as she asked him to wait.

Giles made for the door. ‘I’ve business to attend to. I’ll say goodbye for now, Lucetta, but I’ll be here tomorrow with the carriage to escort you and Mary to the church.’

‘Papa might want to take us in the landau,’ Mary said, tweaking the last bloom into place. ‘You could come with us.’

Giles shook his head. ‘I don’t think Sir Hector will attend the service. If the news should leak out that a Member of Parliament was at the funeral of a convicted felon, it could damage his career.’

Mary frowned and her pale cheeks were suffused with colour. ‘Papa would not let something like that prevent him from doing his duty.’

‘It’s all right, Mary,’ Lucetta said hastily. ‘I understand how it is with your papa. Please don’t upset yourself.’

Mary looked as though she had a lot more to say but the maid entered without knocking and Sam barged past her before she had a chance to announce him. Ignoring Giles and Mary, he strode over to Lucetta and swept her into a passionate embrace.

Lucetta struggled free and she glanced anxiously at Giles, but he was busy comforting the startled maid. ‘Don’t worry, Maisie, it wasn’t your fault.’ He left the room, closing the door behind him with a force that made the windows rattle.

‘We are not alone, Sam,’ Lucetta said angrily.

He grinned, dragging off his cap and tossing it onto the chair. ‘I’m sure Miss Hastings doesn’t object to a fellow kissing his fiancée. I’ve come with good news, my love. I’ve seen the vicar at the church where your
ma and pa are buried and he is free to marry us tomorrow at one o’clock. I wanted to book it earlier but there’s a funeral at noon. By this time tomorrow we will be man and wife. What do you say to that?’

Chapter Twenty-four

It was almost as if the huge black birds circling overhead knew of Guthrie’s fear and hatred for crows. Their mournful cawing echoed round the graveyard as Lucetta dropped a handful of ice-cold soil onto the coffin lid.

‘Goodbye, Lennie,’ she whispered. ‘I know that you did it for me, but we would have managed somehow. I never told you that I loved you, but I did. You were my special friend and I would have looked after you always.’ Her voice broke on a dry sob and she bowed her head, biting back tears.

Giles laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘He’s safe now, Lucetta. Nothing can harm him ever again.’ He allowed the cold dark earth to trickle through his fingers and it fell like rain on the polished oak.

Mary patted her hand. ‘It’s over, Daisy. Let him rest in peace.’

Lucetta nodded mutely. No words could describe her feelings of guilt and loss. Lennie had turned back to a life of crime in an attempt to provide for her and now he was gone. She was mourning for her father and mother all over again, only this time it was like losing a child that had been given into her care, and she had let him down.

Giles held her a little closer as the biting east wind raked across the graveyard, rattling the bare branches of the trees and whipping dead leaves into eddies around their feet. ‘When you’re ready, Lucetta.’

She glanced up into his face and she knew that he understood. ‘I’m ready to go home.’

With Giles on one side and Mary on the other, Lucetta trod the same path that churchgoers, mourners and bridal parties had taken for many hundreds of years, passing through the lychgate and out into the street where the Harcourts’ brougham was waiting to take them home.

During the carriage ride back to Lonsdale Square Lucetta made a conscious effort to face reality. Lennie was dead and gone, hopefully to a better place, and she must face the problems that she had pushed aside until now. Sam had not attended the service. He had been furious when she refused to accept his wedding plans, even though she had tried to explain that the funeral he had talked about so dismissively was that of her friend and protector. Sam had cursed Guthrie, telling her in the strongest terms what he thought of the escaped convict who should have paid for his life of crime at the end of the hangman’s noose. He had simply not understood or, Lucetta thought, he had chosen not to understand her feelings, and what began as an argument had erupted into a bitter quarrel. Mary’s attempts to mediate had been met with failure on both sides, and Sam had stormed out of the house leaving Lucetta in tears. She had not seen him since.

It had started raining soon after they left the church, and by the time they reached the Hastings’ residence what had begun as light drizzle had turned into a steady downpour. Holding up a large black umbrella, the groom opened the carriage door and put down the steps.

‘I won’t come in,’ Giles said apologetically. ‘I have an appointment with Dr Glenn, the retiring physician at the practice I hope to purchase. There are just two of us competing now, so I can’t afford to be late.’

‘I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you, Giles.’ Mary gave him an encouraging smile as she allowed the groom to help her from the carriage.

Lucetta was about to alight but Giles laid his hand on her arm. ‘Are you all right?’

She nodded, resisting the temptation to throw her arms around his neck and sob on his shoulder. ‘I’m fine, thank you, Giles.’ She shot him a sideways glance, but she couldn’t look him fully in the eyes. Something had changed and it felt as though a glass barrier had come between them. She laid her hand on the groom’s outstretched arm and stepped down onto the pavement to join Mary who was sheltering beneath the umbrella.

‘Oughtn’t you to go with him?’ Lucetta asked anxiously. ‘It’s not too late if you call out to stop them.’

‘Giles doesn’t need me to hold his hand.’ Mary hurried up the path and tugged at the bell. ‘Don’t stand there, Lucetta,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘You’re getting terribly wet.’

Lucetta had barely noticed the raindrops dripping
off the rim of her bonnet as she watched the carriage leave the square, but Mary’s comment brought her back to earth with a jolt and she hurried up the path.

‘But you will be involved in his work too. Don’t you want to see the house where you will spend the rest of your life?’

The door opened and Mary stepped into the hallway, shedding her bonnet and mantle which she thrust into Maisie’s outstretched hands. ‘What are you talking about, Daisy? I won’t be living with Giles. Whatever gave you that idea?’

Maisie moved to Lucetta’s side. ‘May I take your wet things, miss?’

‘Tell Cook we’ll have luncheon as soon as possible, please,’ Mary said as she entered the morning parlour.

Lucetta realised that she was dripping water all over the tiled floor and she shrugged off her wet garments, handing them to Maisie before hurrying into the parlour. ‘But I thought things were settled between you and Giles.’

Mary went to warm her hands in front of the fire. ‘What Giles does or doesn’t do is his concern, not mine. I’m going back to Stockton Lacey in a week or two and I’m not planning to return to London.’ She glanced over her shoulder with a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry, Daisy. We’re keeping the house on for the foreseeable future, and you can stay here as long as you like. Papa hasn’t decided whether to sell or to let it out to a suitable tenant.’

‘But, Mary, I thought that you and Giles had an understanding. I thought that you and he …’

Mary threw back her head and laughed. ‘Giles and me? Oh, no, we are too much alike. We get on like a house on fire, but there’s never been anything romantic in our attachment.’

Lucetta sat down suddenly as her legs gave way beneath her. A multitude of conflicting emotions made her feel light-headed, and the uppermost feeling was one of inexplicable relief. ‘I – I thought you were in love with him.’

‘I do love him, but I got over my schoolgirl crush a long time ago.’ Mary angled her head. ‘There’s only one person who holds my cousin’s heart, and I think you already know her name.’

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