“I
feared this might be the case,” said Lord Exencour. He saw her hand tighten on
her glass and made haste to reassure her. “It is not an impossible situation, I
assure you. You will have many choices to make, but with careful planning I am
sure all can be made right in time.”
“I hope
so,” said Letitia. “I am not overly fond of Morgan Park, as too many sad things
have happened here, but I would not to wish to see it lost for James.”
“Then
it shall not be,” said Lord Exencour. “You will manage somehow, and Isobel and
I will do all we can to be of assistance. But now I suggest you attempt to put
this out of your mind. The funeral is tomorrow, and afterwards there will be
plenty of time to worry. Do go upstairs and rest; I will send Isobel to you.”
Letitia
allowed Lord Exencour to relieve her of her glass of sherry and escort her to
the stairs. As she slowly walked up them, she reflected that her straits were
dire indeed; it would take more than the concern of her friends to help her out
of it.
The next day dawned
warmer, but this was not necessarily a blessing, for the snow of the previous
day turned to a depressing rain. It seeped into everything, and particularly
through the roof of Morgan Park, which had for many years needed repair.
Letitia, the
Exencours and Lord Bainstall assembled for the funeral, which was every bit as
melancholy as Isobel had feared and Bainstall had hoped it would be. The skies
continued to pour forth, and the lowering clouds in the distance lent a
threatening aspect to the gloomy occasion. Many members of the local gentry
made their appearance, though Isobel suspected they attended more from
curiosity than from affection for Lord Morgan.
Letitia had
insisted that her daughter, Emily, be allowed to remain in the house, stating
firmly that a child of three could not be expected to stand in the rain for a
father she had barely known. Her six-year-old son could not be reprieved
though, and he now stood solemnly by his mother, watching his father’s coffin
being lowered into the earth.
The minister spoke
as briefly as he dared, the rain dripping from his nose as he mouthed some
pious untruths about Lord Morgan's integrity, kindness, and exceptional
qualities as a husband and father. Isobel found it necessary to avoid looking
at her husband, as his expression of lugubrious sorrow threatened to throw her
into a fit of nervous giggles. She concentrated instead on Letitia, who stood
patiently in the wet, her son's hand clasped in her own, her eyes fixed on the
coffin as it disappeared into the ground. Those eyes were quite dry, but the
rain disguised that fact, and she looked the picture of the sorrowing widow.
“Poor Lady Morgan,”
Mrs. Blake was heard to whisper to her husband. “She looks quite destroyed by
Lord Morgan's death. Not but what he was far from perfect, but what does a
woman do without her husband? I only hope she may find someone willing to take
on the mess her affairs are surely in. The sooner she remarries, the better.”
Letitia did not
give a sign that she had heard, but reflected bitterly on the comment. She had
very little idea of what she would do now. Money had long been a worry of hers,
but as long as Alfred had lived, she had had no control over it. Now it had
become her duty to be sure that Morgan Park remained intact to be handed on to
her son and to provide her daughter with the governesses, clothes, and dowry
befitting a person of her rank.
Letitia closed her
eyes. The only child of a widowed, doting father, she had not been raised to
know anything of her finances; that was a man’s business. Yet her husband had
gambled away their wealth, and now she found herself in the position of needing
to manage what little was left on her own, or speedily find herself another
husband to do so for her. Real tears sprang into her eyes at the thought.
The service ended
and the funeral party trailed back to the house. Letitia’s melancholy
ponderings were interrupted by the steady flow of visitors paying their
respects and proffering good wishes. To her great relief, Isobel approached her
and laid a gentle hand on her arm.
“Letty, pray let
your cousin, Exencour, and me greet the remainder of your guests. You look
terribly fatigued, and no one can blame you if you feel the need to lie down. I
do think it would be for the best.”
“Aye, Cousin,” said
Bainstall, “I am sure that your grief is quite overwhelming, and doubtless you
feel guilt about neglecting your poor husband while he resided on the Continent
these past years. Do lie down for some time; the lawyer will be here this
afternoon for the reading of the will and you will need to have your wits about
you.”
With a grateful
smile at Isobel and a quiet nod to her cousin, Letitia fled the drawing room
for her chamber. She did not undress, but lay on the bed fully clothed, a shawl
about her shoulders. She closed her eyes, but sleep did not find her. Her brain
continued in the constant circle it had been caught in for days now; the estate
was encumbered, the mortgages must be paid, there was no money, there were
immediate debts which Alfred’s death brought to the fore. There seemed to be no
end to the tangle. After some time she dozed, and dreamed of debt collectors
lined up at her door.
She awoke a few
hours later to find Isobel sitting at her bedside.
“Oh, such a dream I
was having,” said Letitia.
“Was it pleasant?”
asked Isobel.
“Not at all,” said
Letitia. “It had to do with money, of course.”
“Letitia, you are
not to worry,” said Isobel. “Francis and I will be glad to be of assistance to
you.”
“No,” said Letitia.
“I cannot allow you and Exencour to continue to pick up the pieces of my life. I
am already deeply in your debt in so many ways; you took me in when I fled from
Alfred and Exencour was kind enough to frighten him away from England and onto
the Continent for some time. I cannot forever be running to you with my
problems, and I certainly cannot take your money.”
“Letitia, Exencour
and I have more money than we can possibly need,” said Isobel. “Surely you will
allow us to--”
“No, I will not,”
said Letitia. “You yourself said I must begin as I mean to proceed, and I must
now think for myself. I will always need your friendship and advice, but Morgan
Park must be preserved for Jamie, and it must be done without incurring further
debt.” She paused, and then a smile broke through. “How severe I sound. As
though I had any idea at all of how to do that.”
Isobel took her
hand and squeezed it. “If you will not take our money, at least Exencour and I
can help you with your plans. Something must--shall--be done!”
Buoyed by this
positive, if somewhat general, statement, Letitia arose and adjusted her dress.
“I suppose we must go down,” she said softly.
“Yes,” said Isobel.
“Your lawyer has arrived, and the gentlemen await us.”
The ladies went
downstairs and found the men in the library, standing by the fire and speaking
of general topics. Lord Morgan’s lawyer, Mr. Linkwall, was a kindly looking old
gentleman, dressed in sober black, his thin hair curling about his scalp. He
greeted Letitia warmly, murmuring a few words of condolence. He privately
thought the lady to be better off without his client, but knew when the
conventions must be observed. Letitia gave him a vague smile and seated herself
by the fire.
“I think it would
be best to get the reading over with,” proposed Lord Exencour. “Lady Morgan is
fatigued by the events of the past few days, and I expect she would like to
begin to get her affairs in order.”
Mr. Linkwall
assented and gathered his papers as the rest of the party disposed of
themselves about the room. The will itself was far from complicated; it had
been drawn up shortly after the birth of James, and left all to him, with his
mother as guardian. Letitia was left in possession of her jointure and the care
of the children.
The reading done, Mr.
Linkwall gave Lady Morgan a shrewd glance. “Your jointure is quite generous, my
lady,” he said. “Your father was clearly determined that you should not be left
wanting if you were widowed. Still, it was intended to support an elderly lady,
not a very young woman with small children and encumbered estates. You will be
able to live on it comfortably, if you are careful, but you will in no wise be
able to free the estate of the mortgages, nor will it supply much money for the
schooling of your son or the dowry of your daughter. These things should have
been provided by the estate, which is clearly impossible.”
Letitia twisted her
handkerchief in her hands. “I am aware that my finances will be quite
straitened, and that will not be a great difficulty for me, as I am accustomed
to it,” she said. “My most urgent concern is the estate; I would hate to see
Jamie unable to live on his ancestral lands when he is of age and pass it on to
his own heirs.”
“The mortgages on
the estate are immense, my lady,” observed Mr. Linkwall. “Your husband did not
seem to care for the land except as a source of income, and his father was
little better. Your dowry could have served to salvage the estate at the time
of your marriage, but I am afraid Lord Morgan chose to put that money to other
uses. There is nothing left of it.”
“If I may make a
suggestion, I believe it would be best if Lady Morgan gave up the idea of
preserving the estate and sold it,” said Lord Bainstall. “To attempt to carry
on for years with a woman at the head of Morgan Park, until young James is able
to assume his duties, is simply to incur more debt and disintegration. With the
money realized from the sale, James could lead a comfortable life, and the
title will be retained, of course. Lady Morgan and the children are welcome to
live with Lady Bainstall and me; in this way her income can be saved for James’
education and Emily's dowry. My wife is sickly and Lady Morgan could aid her
about the house. There is nothing quite so unattractive as a woman living alone
when she has male relatives to turn to.”
During this speech
Letitia had gradually looked more and more amazed, and Lady Exencour was
clearly extremely annoyed. Before her amused husband could stop her, she
launched into speech.
“Lord Bainstall, I
suggest that you rethink these ideas of yours. You are apparently unaware that
I have for many years managed my own estate in the Cotswolds. Lady Morgan, if
she chooses, can be an able manager of Morgan Park, as her brain is every bit
as capable as yours, if not much more so. As for your suggestion that she live
in your home, which was once her father's, as a poor relation, I do not
hesitate to tell you that I find the notion so incredible as to be
unbelievable.”
Lord Bainstall
listened with raised eyebrows to this speech. “I must inform you, Lady
Exencour, that I find your interference in this matter to be most unusual,” he
said. “If your husband chooses to indulge your whims of being a lady of
independence, that is his business, but you can hardly expect others to agree
with him. Letitia has always been a gently-bred female, with no pretensions to
the unattractively strong-minded ways that you display. I am merely proposing a
solution which will enable her to continue in the path which she has chosen,
and which, I believe, is the correct one for a female.”
Isobel's color was
greatly heightened, and it was obvious that she had a reply to this comment,
but Letitia stepped in. “Please do not continue this conversation,” she said. “While
I appreciate your defense of me, Isobel, it is not necessary.” She turned to
Lord Bainstall, who was bestowing a smug look on Lady Exencour. “I can speak
for myself. Cousin, I appreciate your interest in my affairs, but I have no
intention of selling Jamie's ancestral estate, or of coming to live with you at
Bainstall. It is no longer my home, but yours, and I would not care to put your
wife in the position that my return must engender. I do not know what course I
shall take, but that one is not open to me.”
Isobel was now able
to return Lord Bainstall's look in kind, and a small silence fell. Lord
Exencour stepped into the breach.
“I believe that
there is a ready solution to Lady Morgan's problem, which no one has mentioned
up to this point,” he said quietly. “This property, while heavily encumbered,
should be able to produce a decent income still, and I am sure there are
individuals who would find it a pleasant home. If Lady Morgan were to lease it
until such time as James is capable of assuming his rightful place, the income
would be sufficient to pay off the worst of the debts, and would prevent her
from having to manage the estate herself. This would, of course, necessitate
Lady Morgan and her children living entirely on her jointure, which, while it
may cause her to practice certain economies, would not be impossible.”
“What an excellent
idea,” said Isobel briskly. “I might have thought of it myself if I were not
distracted by other nonsensical suggestions.” She directed a severe look at
Lord Bainstall. “It would answer your needs very well, Letitia.”
“I agree,” said Mr.
Linkwall. “While I have heard that Lady Exencour manages her estates most ably,
Lady Morgan has no experience in that area, and would be hard pressed to take
up the reins here, where all has been so mismanaged. This would enable her to
relieve the greatest burden of the debts on the land without having to go to
undue lengths herself.”
Lord Bainstall
steepled his fingers together. “It is not an impossible scheme,” he admitted. “Although
I still think that selling the estates would relieve Lady Morgan of the worst
of her cares.”
“What is your
opinion, Letitia?” asked Isobel, taking her friend's cold hands in her own. “I
think perhaps Exencour has come up with an excellent solution for you and your
family.”
“It sounds a
workable notion,” said Letitia. “I own that I had not looked forward to
continuing to live in such an isolated spot with only two small children for
companionship. If Mr. Linkwall looks into this matter for me, and finds that
the rent will serve to pay off the worst of the mortgages, then perhaps it
would be the best solution.”
“I will be glad to
do so, my lady,” said Mr. Linkwall.
“If you are set on
this course, which is against my recommendation, you will need a place to live,”
said Lord Bainstall. “Once again, I must stress that my home would be the best
place for you and the children. They would be raised in a proper atmosphere,
with the influence of a strong man for James to model himself after.”
A smile crept into
Letitia's eyes. “I had not wanted to come live with you before, Cousin, and the
prospect that my son might model himself after you convinces me that it would
be disastrous. I believe I will have to make other arrangements.”
Lord Bainstall
gasped and gave her an astonished glare. “Letitia! This levity is most
unbecoming, and I must lay it at the door of Lady Exencour, who seems to be
quite dead to any notion of propriety. I beg that you will cease this
unfeminine behavior and begin to pack so that we may leave as soon as possible.”
Lady Exencour
smothered a laugh. “I think Letitia has declared herself most forthrightly, my
lord,” she said. “You are welcome to stay with Exencour and myself, Letty, or,
if you prefer, and I imagine you will, we can help you to find a small house to
rent in London. Then you can remain near your many friends and yet have your
own home.”
“I cannot believe
that Lady Morgan would be so devoid of good sense as to set herself up in
London,” said Lord Bainstall. “A woman alone, even a widow, must of necessity
attract undue attention which she would find most displeasing.”
“Cousin, I beg that
you no longer worry about my affairs,” said Letitia. “I thank you for your
attempts to guide me, but I find that my ideas do not agree with yours. Lady
Exencour is quite correct; a small house of my own in London sounds delightful.”
“I warn you,
Letitia, if you follow this plan I must wash my hands of you,” said Lord
Bainstall. “I cannot allow the world to think that I approve of such a plan. It
may even make people think I did not offer you a home, as is my duty. If you
come to grief, I will not be able to aid you.”
Letitia looked Lord
Bainstall directly in the eyes. “I appreciate your warning, Cousin, and agree
that it would be sad indeed for you if I were to come to sorrow and you were to
be blamed. I will be careful to inform all of my acquaintance that you
disapprove highly of my course of action.”
Lord Bainstall
stood up. “I do not have to remain here and be subjected to this rudeness and
folly. I see that you choose your friend, Lady Exencour, over your own family. I
hope it is a decision you will not regret. If you will excuse me, I will
prepare my bags and leave.”