“Pray, what interest does my cousin have in the Edwardses’ property?” entreated Lady Vernon.

“But it is not the Edwardses’! Of course, I would know nothing of the matter had not Miss Drake mentioned something to me. She is the daughter of the solicitor in Sudbury, the one who arranged it all for Sir James. It was done with great discretion, but of course when Miss Drake heard of it, she could not keep it to herself. There are some who cannot be trusted with a secret! But, of course, it was not such a secret, for when I mentioned it to Mr. Clarke, he told me that he had known of it from the first! He who goes nowhere and takes no interest at all in gossip! How provoking! And, of course, Colonel and Mrs. Edwards were such a well-bred couple and dressed so fine, and their horses and carriage were so handsome that everyone took it as a matter of course that they were not mere tenants. I cannot imagine why Sir James wanted it to be kept such a secret, unless he did not wish for Lady Martin to think that he had bought the property as a place to put her after he marries. And though we much preferred to have you at Vernon Castle, the Edwardses have turned out to be a blessing, for I have got two sons-in-law out of it. But why do you look so distressed?”

Lady Vernon could not conceal her mortification. “When we were obliged to sell the property, I asked my cousin only to assist us in finding a purchaser. It was not ever our intention to solicit relief. We were quite determined against taking any charity from my cousin or Lady Martin.”

“Oh, I am sure it was not done out of charity. I am sure that Sir James acted from the very best of motives.”

Lady Vernon’s grief over the loss of her husband could not bear even the possibility that her cousin’s actions had cast Sir Frederick as a beggar. “My dear Phoebe, I am afraid that I am not equal to company,” she declared, rising from her chair. “If you would be so kind as to make my excuses, I will avail myself of Mr. deCourcy’s excellent advice and take a turn in the air.”

Lady Vernon slipped outside and walked down the avenue under the canopy of heavy shade. She had got as far as the steward’s lodge and was about to strike out into the road when she heard a quick step and a voice calling out her name. She turned to see Robert Manwaring hurrying toward her.

“I have found you!” he said as he fell into step beside her. “We had supposed that you meant to walk with Miss Vernon and Mr. deCourcy and Maria. I am very glad to find you alone, as I have not had the opportunity to express to you personally how deeply I feel for your loss.”

He offered her his arm with easy gallantry. “I know that all of your friends have petitioned for a share of your time, but you must allow me to add to Eliza’s arguments in favor of Langford. Think of the advantage to Miss Vernon—at Langford, she will have Maria for company, and there may be some young people about who will keep her from dwelling upon her sorrow. You may come as soon as you like and go away at once if the situation does not please you. Indeed, there will be nothing to hold you, but for …”

Here he broke off with a glance that held too much meaning to be directed toward a new widow.

Lady Vernon had never encouraged Manwaring’s flirtation unless to ignore it entirely had been encouragement. Still, she did not reject his proposal immediately. A departure from Churchill was inevitable and she and Frederica must go somewhere. Until the matter of her income was addressed and she knew what she would have to live on, she must accept the hospitality of one of her friends. She could not consider going to Ealing Park while the thought of Sir James’s deception was still fresh in her mind. She might go to the Clarkes’, and in fact, that seemed the pleasantest and most comforting option, but to be in the vicinity of Vernon Castle might aggravate her emotions rather than compose them. Bath would be hot and desolate at this time of year, and though Lady Vernon knew that Mr. deCourcy’s invitation was well intentioned and sincere, she believed that the arrival of two ladies and their necessary attendants would be too great a disruption for a quiet bachelor household. No one was in town save for Alicia Johnson, and Lady Vernon believed that Mr. Johnson was the sort of misanthrope whose hospitality could not be depended upon, even by a mother and daughter in mourning.

Langford, for all its drawbacks, seemed the least unfavorable situation for her, and the most favorable for Frederica, and as they returned to the house, Lady Vernon gave Manwaring her consent. He was so delighted to win his point that the first words uttered were improperly joyous before he remembered the occasion that had prompted the invitation and became somber once more.

Sir James did his best to conceal his surprise when his cousin announced that upon leaving Churchill Manor, she and Frederica would go to Langford. He could not address her privately until the carriages were ordered and the party were saying their farewells. “I did not think you would seriously consider going to Langford, Susan. I do not like the scheme at all. The Manwarings keep a great deal of company and—forgive me—Manwaring admires you too much for a married man. Your situation will not protect you, for he may think that you are all the more susceptible for being unencumbered and may behave in a way that will distress you and embarrass Freddie.”

“Forgive me, cousin,” she returned with some warmth, “but I am no longer certain that you have ever understood what will distress or embarrass me or my family.”

“I understand enough to know how Vernon’s rudeness must make you uneasy—to send your friends and relations away—he has a very strange notion of hospitality and charity.”

“I neither expect nor desire charity, cousin, as any of my acquaintance ought to understand. Nothing could be so offensive to my husband’s memory as to have his wife and daughter become the objects of charity.”

Sir James looked upon her with bewilderment and made no reply. He concluded that it was too early to expect any moderation in her grief. Within a few weeks, he would no doubt receive a letter from her expressing a change of heart and a desire to come to Derbyshire.

Lady Martin bustled up to them and gave her niece a hearty embrace. “If they do not suit you at Langford, you will always have a home with us. Come, James, we cannot delay or we will be on the road after sunset and then who knows what will befall us!”

Sir James kissed his cousin’s hand and then addressed Frederica, insisting that she be a faithful correspondent and assuring her that it would take only a line from her to bring him to their aid.

The carriages departed, the women retired to their rooms. They did not come down to dine, and so Charles Vernon dined alone, eating little and drinking a good deal of Sir Frederick’s excellent port.

chapter twelve

On the following day, Lady Vernon rose from her bed and went directly to her writing desk, where she sat down to calculate how little of her husband’s debt was outstanding, how far his rents had increased, and how frugally they had lived over the last half-dozen years. By these tallies, she determined that Sir Frederick may have left as much as thirty thousand pounds with his estate.

Lady Vernon resolved to address Charles at the earliest opportunity on the matter of how she was to be recompensed; she was sensible of the indelicacy of raising the subject so soon after her husband’s funeral, but she could not trust the firmness of his promises as far as Sir Frederick had. If his memory of them was not fixed while she and Frederica were before him, it must dissipate when they were out of his sight.

Vernon steadily avoided all discourse by keeping himself away from the house as much as possible. For the first days after his brother’s funeral, he rode out very early or found some concern that took him into Churchill, and at last, with no notice whatsoever, he departed for London, where the unhappy presence of his sister and niece were not always before him. There, the society and its diversions soon eased him into the conviction that whatever assurances he may have given his brother had only been the sort of necessary lies one is compelled to give to an invalid. Would not a gentleman who had a wife and four young children to maintain (and who must keep himself in some style when he was in town) need far more than a widow who was not without rich relations, and a daughter who was of an age when she would soon marry?

Soon Vernon was persuaded that there had been no promise at all, only an informal understanding that Lady Vernon and her daughter would not starve.

Lady Vernon could not believe that Charles meant to stay away from Churchill Manor until after she and Frederica departed, but when a week passed with no word from him, she dispatched a letter to his address in town.


She did not post this letter but sent it with the housekeeper who was to take charge of the Portland Place residence, and instructed her to carry it directly to Mr. Vernon’s lodgings in town. She would dearly have loved to send the portrait of Sir Frederick to Portland Place as well, but she conceded that its place was in the gallery at Churchill among those of his forebears, and so contented herself with a likeness of him set into her locket.

She then turned her attention to separating her personal possessions from what property belonged to Churchill and distributing Sir Frederick’s clothing to the menservants and the poor. There were gloves to be dyed and bonnets to be divested of trimming and swans-down and lined with crepe. She and Frederica took leave of the neighborhood, exchanging particularly affectionate farewells with the Chapmans.