“Of course she was. Grandmother adored handsome, gallant men, and they in turn worshipped at her altar. I’ve been trying to remember my dream. Fragments keep stealing back to me, but most of it has vanished into thin air. To be perfectly honest, I think I was dreaming about Tom Jones.”
“You lucky devil! What were you doing? Were you the wench he was in bed with?”
“What were we doing?” Harry used Fielding’s own words. “I could only describe it by the ‘use of an expression too indelicate to be here inserted.’” They went off into peals of laughter.
After their ride, they stabled the horses, and walked through Rachel’s herb garden outside Campden Hill’s kitchen. “Look at how the mint is spreading. You must take some back to London with you.”
While Harry picked the mint, Rachel gathered a large bunch of thyme and another of rosemary. The air was redolent with fragrance as they headed toward the kitchen door. “Oh, look. The lavender is in bloom. I shall steal some to slip into my luggage when I finish my packing.”
“I have some muslin bags I made for just that purpose. I’ll get you a couple.”
By the time the pair had tied and wrapped the herbs, Harry realized the morning had slipped away. She grabbed the muslin bags of lavender. “I must be sure I packed everything—Riley could be here any moment.”
“Take your time. I’ll take him to the kitchen and feed him sandwiches and ale,” Rachel promised.
“Thank you for offering, Riley, but I won’t ride on the box this afternoon. I shall sit inside as befits a lady. I don’t want to arrive in London looking like a wild hoyden.”
Harry kissed Rachel good-bye. “Thank you for making my stay so enjoyable. My last few days have been delightfully calm and serene, and I’m sad to be leaving.”
“Don’t be sad, Harry. Think of the exciting time that is before you. I envy you.”
As the carriage rolled along the road that led from Kensington to London, Harriet’s serenity began to dissolve. She became somber as her head filled with thoughts of the disaster and the wretched existence of the coal miners and their families.
Her father’s words echoed in her head: Every shovelful of coal helps fill D’Arcy’s coffers. Then she remembered Rachel’s words: Only think of the wealth that marriage to D’Arcy will bring.
Her spirits sank further with every mile that brought her closer to London, and it began to dawn on her that it was the thought of accepting D’Arcy’s proposal of marriage that was stealing her happiness.
Harry recoiled. Every penny of D’Arcy’s wealth is earned on the backs of coal miners. It is blood money! I could never become the Countess of Durham. My conscience would never allow me to be happy for one single day, knowing the luxurious life I enjoyed came at such a horrendously high cost to the men, women, and children of Durham.
She thought of D’Arcy and her stomach knotted. How can I be so cruel to him? She remembered Uncle Johnny’s advice: If you are in love, you must let nothing stop you.
All at once, everything fell into place. “I’m not in love with D’Arcy Lambton!”
Chapter Twelve
Harry glanced out the window and saw that they were in London. She opened her reticule and thrust in her hand, searching for the key D’Arcy had given her. When her fingers closed about it, she hammered on the carriage roof, just behind where Riley was perched. She felt the carriage slow and pull to the side of the street.
Riley jumped down and opened the carriage door. “What is it, Lady Harriet?”
“Before you take me home, I’d like you to stop at Carlton House Terrace.”
Riley bit his lip. He knew very well she was going to D’Arcy Lambton’s residence, but he was also under the impression that in the very near future she would be the Countess of Durham. “I’ll have ye there in a trice, my lady.”
As the carriage climbed Constitution Hill, Harry’s mouth went dry with apprehension. “It’s only fair that I tell D’Arcy right away. It is thoughtless and cruel to keep him dangling,” she said aloud. Her inner voice mocked her. Tell the truth and shame the devil. You just want to get it over with, Harry Hamilton!
Lady Harriet ascended the front steps, inserted her key, and unlocked the front door.
She anticipated Fenton’s long, disapproving face. I’ll tell him I have to speak to D’Arcy about a personal matter and ask him to make sure we are not interrupted.
As she crossed the entrance hall and reached the stairs, Fenton did not make an appearance. I wonder if it’s his day off? It seems strange that none of the servants are about. Harry entered the drawing room and found it empty. She went down the hall to the library, but the book-lined room, with its large desk, was also empty.
Oh dear, D’Arcy must be out. My timing is dreadful. I feel like an intruder. As she withdrew from the library, she thought she could hear the murmur of a man’s voice. She turned her head to listen, but when all that followed was silence, she thought she must have been mistaken.
The sound of a woman’s laughter broke the quiet. It was so unexpected that Harry couldn’t believe her ears. D’Arcy is entertaining a female. Who the devil can it be, and where are they?
The next time the laugh came, it trailed off into a giggle, and Harry followed the sound. Though she had never been in the wing that held the bedchambers, she knew where they were located from the tour he had given her on the night of his dinner party at Carlton House Terrace.
Harry paused outside a bedchamber and when she heard movement inside, accompanied by murmuring, she opened the door.
Her jaw dropped as she saw D’Arcy Lambton with a female in his arms. Both were stark naked. “Trixy!”
Harry’s sister shrieked and burst into tears.
D’Arcy dropped Trixy onto the rumpled bed and grabbed his robe. “Harry, I can explain.”
Harriet ignored him and focused on Beatrix. “Get dressed immediately.” She turned and left the room. Her emotions were in turmoil, her thoughts were in disarray, and her pride lay in shards all about her.
D’Arcy hurried after her.
Harry’s blazing anger forced her to quickly gather her thoughts.
When she reached the drawing room, she held up her hand to silence him, and pierced him with a stare that pinned him to the spot. “You rapacious swine!” Harry was so furious she was panting. “How long has this been going on? My God, Trixy could be with child!” She took a deep, steadying breath. “Tonight, D’Arcy Lambton, you will present yourself to my father and ask him for the hand of his daughter Beatrix. You must insist that you do not wish to wait.”
“Harry, please—”
Harry held up her hand to silence him. She raised her chin and issued her ultimatum. “Two weeks. If you are not married at the end of two weeks’ time, I will personally see that you never, ever become the lord lieutenant of Durham.”
They stared each other down, but it was not Harry who looked away first. She handed him his key. “I have no further use for this.”
Beatrix, trembling, pale, and a little defiant, appeared at the drawing room archway.
Harriet said quietly, “Come. The carriage is outside.”
The sisters descended the staircase and departed the house in silence. Once they were inside the carriage, Beatrix whispered, “I’m sorry I hurt you, Harry, but I’m madly in love with D’Arcy.”
“You haven’t hurt me, Trixy. I came to tell D’Arcy that I didn’t want to marry him.”
Harry saw a look of pity come into her sister’s eyes, and she knew that Trixy didn’t believe her. She thinks I’m trying to save face. Harry thought about what her family’s reaction would be when D’Arcy Lambton made an offer for her sister. Hellfire, they will all look at me with pity. Her instincts told her that she must not repudiate D’Arcy. She knew that what had happened today must remain a secret. I love Trixy. I don’t want her to think that the only reason she got him was because I rejected him.
The Duchess of Abercorn put her finger to her lips as she closed the bedroo
m door. Not until she undressed and got into bed beside her husband did she murmur, “I was rendered speechless tonight, which is a rare event for me.”
“Lu, I have a confession to make. When young Lambton arrived after dinner and asked to speak with me privately, I dreaded him asking for Harriet’s hand. When he asked my permission to marry Beatrix, a great weight was lifted off my chest. Harry is far too sensitive and tenderhearted to be wed to a happy-go-lucky, callous young devil like Lambton. On the other hand, Trixy and D’Arcy seem an excellent match.”
“Well, I’m extremely thankful that one of my daughters will become the Countess of Durham. But Harriet must be absolutely devastated.”
James slid his arms about his wife and drew her against him. “I’m not so sure, darling. I don’t believe for a moment that she lost her heart to him. As a matter of fact, I think she feels contempt that he doesn’t do more for the working poor in his county.”
“If you are right, then it is infinitely better that they don’t marry. A wife should be able to revere her husband, and take great pride in him, not hold him in contempt.”
James raised her chin with his fingers and looked into her eyes. “Do you revere me, Lady Lu?”
“At the risk of swelling your head, along with other prominent body parts, I must confess that I do.” She licked her lips. “Will you reward me with a sugared mouse?”
“I will reward you with anything your heart desires.”
She reached out to fondle his erection. “Damn you, Abercorn, you know I cannot resist such blatant temptation.”
Harriet decided to ease the awkward situation by removing herself to the guest wing to sleep in the bedchamber she had shared with Rachel. Her emotions were in turmoil, and more than anything, she needed to be alone to think things through.
All her preconceived notions of D’Arcy Lambton being in love with her had been shattered into a million pieces. The lecherous swine betrayed me! The lump in her throat almost choked her. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry, Harry Hamilton!
Finding D’Arcy and Trixy in flagrante delicto had shocked her to the core. What she had witnessed today not only wiped away her trust in men; it had given her self-confidence a grievous blow. For the first time in her life, she felt unattractive, unloved, and unsure of herself. Lying alone in the darkness, Harry felt so vulnerable that her eyes flooded with tears.
Anger with herself was the only thing that saved her from sobbing her heart out. She dashed away her tears with impatient hands. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’ve been saved from a loveless marriage.
She threw back the covers, slipped out of bed, and crossed to the window. She stared into the darkness with unseeing eyes and vowed that no man would ever deceive or make a fool of her again. In the future, I will never consider marrying any man unless he gives me absolute proof that he loves me, and I am sure that I love him in return.
“I absolutely love my gown.” Beatrix smiled at Madam Martine as she tirelessly pinned up the hem on the white satin wedding dress that measured ten full yards.
Harry sent up a fervent prayer of thanks that it was not she who would be wearing the nuptial monstrosity.
Their mother swept into the room. “That’s a relief. St. George’s Church is confirmed for the first Tuesday in August. The church has been reserved every day of the month, but since our wedding will be small, they can accommodate us in the afternoon.”
“Isn’t it amazing?” Trixy took off her veil and handed it to Jane. “Everything the tarot cards predicted has come true! It said I would get my wish in a three, and it will be just over three weeks from that night to my wedding day!”
“It’s magical,” Jane said with a heartfelt sigh. To spare Lady Harriet’s sensibilities, it had been decided that her sister Jane would be Beatrix’s maid of honor, and the seventeen-year-old was swept up in the romance of it all.
Harry thought of the tarot cards she had drawn that night. The Fool told me I had a choice in life, and that trial and error would bring wisdom. A picture of the Hanged Man came into her mind. It was right too. I was not tied—I could free myself at any time. It warned that to achieve my desired goals, I must change the direction of my life. There seems to be a profound truth connected with the tarot cards.
“People are bound to gossip, so be prepared,” the duchess warned her girls. “For one thing, the engagement will be scandalously short, and traditionally, it is the eldest daughter who is supposed to wed first.”
“Mother, you are the one who has taught us that we set fashion; we don’t follow it,” Harry said dryly.
On the last day of July, Parliament recessed for the month of August. Thomas Anson gathered his papers together. He was looking forward to spending time in Staffordshire, touching base with his constituents. The gardens at Shugborough would be blazing with color and he couldn’t wait to spend time at the estate that meant so much to him.
As Thomas was leaving the House, he saw William Montagu and stopped to bid him good-bye. “I suppose you’ll be going to Midlothian during the recess. Scotland should be lovely at this time of year.”
“Yes, but I won’t be able to leave until after D’Arcy’s wedding. He has asked me to be his best man.”
“Lambton is getting married?” Thomas felt his heart plummet to his feet.
“Surely he told you? Still, it’s all been such a rush.”
Red-hot fury almost blinded him. Thomas felt as if the walls were closing in on him, and suffocation was imminent. “I’m sorry, Will. I’m in a bit of a hurry. I’m off to Staffordshire tomorrow. Good-bye. I shall see you in September.”
That son of a bitch beat me to the mark! Thomas cursed himself. I knew damn well he’d ask her. But I thought she’d turn him down! He strode along Whitehall, oblivious to the other pedestrians who crowded the busy thoroughfare. Don’t be an idiot, Anson. What young lady of fashion would turn down an offer to marry an earl of the realm? Especially an earl with an obscene fortune to lavish upon her.
“Mother, will you be all right if I leave for Shugborough in the morning?”
“Of course. I will be perfectly fine. You mustn’t worry about me, Thomas. Your constituents will welcome you with open arms. And so they should, with the perquisites for Lichfield you manage to garner in Parliament.”
“That’s why they elected me. I’m just doing my job. I’ll take the two paintings I procured recently and hang them back where they rightfully belong.”
Barbara Anson laid down her fork and looked at her son. “Fowler was here again today. The narrow-eyed wretch turns up every week like clockwork. He visits more often than the doctor.”
Thomas tried for a light tone. “Devious plotting with his attorney is one of the few things that brings Father pleasure. Try not to let it upset you.” I will make sure the depraved swine never hurts you again. “While I’m away, you must let Norton attend to his needs. If you allow it, Father will run you ragged with his inconsiderate demands.” That’s the other thing that provides him with perverse pleasure.
The servant, who came into the dining room to clear the table, brought a message that the earl wished to see his son. Thomas had expected it. After a visit from Martin Fowler, he was always summoned.
Thomas had a heavy heart, and he climbed the stairs slowly, well aware that this encounter would do nothing to lighten his spirit. He entered the chamber, crossed to the bed, and looked unflinchingly into his father’s pouched eyes.
“By any remote chance, are you in pursuit of the heiress we spoke of?” His words were labored and Thomas could hear wheezing inside his chest.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Father.”
The old man smirked. “You are waiting for me to die.” Speaking brought on a coughing spell, and Thomas poured him a glass of water. But when he proffered it, the bedridden man knocked it from his son’s hand. “When that day arrives, you think your troubles will be over, but you are wrong, you arrogant young swine.”
My mother’s troubles will sure as hell
be over.
“Fowler was here today. Let’s see how the laws of primogeniture help you when my signed affidavit is read with my Last Will and Testament.”
The maggots are already eating your brain.
“It swears that you are illegitimate.”
Thomas recoiled. “You are insane! That is a deliberate lie. How can you bring such shame to Mother?”
“You, and you alone, can prevent the shame. As promised, if you take a wealthy wife before I die, Fowler has orders to burn the affidavit.”
Thomas felt his gut knot. He clenched his fists to prevent his hands from choking the life from the monster. “If you declare me a bastard, who, pray, will be your legitimate heir?”
Lichfield sneered. “My firstborn child, your sister Anne Frederica. She’s the only one I’m sure I fathered. Her husband, Lord Elcho, has plenty of wealth to lavish on Shugborough.”
For the first time since he was a boy, the cold finger of fear touched his heart.
The thought of losing Shugborough was unendurable to him. Thomas closed his eyes and gathered his strength. No power on earth will wrest Shugborough from my hands. I hereby vow to keep it in my possession, or die trying.
“Thank you for inviting me to ride with you, Father.” Harry was truly grateful for the opportunity to be alone for a private conversation.
“I anticipated that Hyde Park would be practically deserted on the first day of August.” The bond between Abercorn and his firstborn child was special. “You did the right thing, Harry, deciding not to marry D’Arcy Lambton.”
“Yes, I know.” She threw him a grateful smile. “It finally dawned on me that I didn’t love him. Now, of course, I realize that he didn’t love me either. That was rather hard to swallow. But in truth, I’ve had a miraculous escape from a loveless marriage.”