Читать книгу The Illegitimate Montague - Sarah Mallory - Страница 11

Adam rode hard to Castonbury Park, determined to forget Amber Hall. It should be easy—after all, he had known her for less than a day—but the manner of their meeting and the passionate night they had spent together were not so easily dismissed. He knew many men who were only too willing to bed a pretty woman as soon as look at her, but he was not one of them. What had happened with Amber had taken him by surprise and he was intrigued by her, wanting to understand just why he was so drawn to her. Unfortunately it appeared he held no such attraction for the lady, since she had been so eager to send him away. Adam’s hand tugged angrily at the reins and Bosun threw up his head, sidling nervously. Immediately he released his grip.

‘Easy, old boy,’ he murmured, running his free hand along the horse’s glossy neck. ‘I’m a fool. She wounded my pride, nothing more. I’ll be giving Amber Hall a wide berth in future.’ He dug his heels into the horse’s flanks. ‘Come up, now. We’ve more important matters to deal with!’

The great house looked very much as he remembered it, the sweeping drive and soaring pillars of the portico imposing, designed to impress the most august visitor.

But Adam was not here to visit the family. He turned away from the main entrance and made his way round to the stables. He gave his horse into the care of a waiting groom, tossed him a silver coin for his trouble and strode back to the house, entering by a side door that led through a maze of small passages to the servants’ quarters. The corridors were deserted and Adam arrived at the door to the housekeeper’s sitting room without meeting anyone. He lifted his hand, hesitated and lowered it again. Then, squaring his shoulders, he raised his hand and knocked softly.

There was no reply. Trying the handle, the door opened easily and Adam stepped inside. Suddenly he was ten years old again, coming to find his mama. There were the cushions and footstool that made the armchair by the fire such a comfort, the large dining table where his mother would entertain the upper servants occasionally, the long table under the window where she would sit when mending or doing the accounts. Even the clock ticking away on the mantelpiece was the same one his mother had used to teach him the time.

The kettle was singing on the fire, a sure sign that his mother would be returning soon. Suddenly his neck cloth was a little too tight and he ran a finger around his collar. What if she was still angry with him? What if she turned him out? Their last meeting was still clear in his mind.

He had been full of hope for the future, but he had not anticipated the shock and anxiety in her face when he told her he had quit the navy.

‘I want only what is best for you, my son.’

Her concern flayed his spirit and he turned on her.

‘If that was true you would have provided me with a father!’ He might as well have struck her, but the angry words kept coming. ‘Tell me the truth for once. Was there ever a Mr Stratton?’

‘No.’ Her lip had trembled as she confessed.

Thinking back, Adam wished he had cut out his tongue rather than continue, but then, with the red mist in his brain, he had ploughed on.

‘So who is my father? Who am I?’

The shock and pain in her eyes still sliced into him like a knife.

‘I cannot tell you. I gave a solemn vow on the Bible that I would never say.’

Even now the memory of her anguished whisper was etched in his memory. At the time he had been determined that it should not touch him, but it had. It had splintered his heart.

He heard the familiar firm step in the corridor, the jingle of keys. The door opened and Hannah Stratton entered the room.

Adam stood very still, gazing at his mother. She looked only a little older than when he had last seen her, a little more silver amongst the dark blond hair, so like his own, and a few more lines around the blue eyes that were now fixed on him. At first they widened, registering surprise. He held his breath. She might reject him. What right had he to expect anything more, after a decade of silence?

Only the soft ticking of the clock told him that time was passing as he waited in an agony of apprehension for her response. Eventually, after a lifetime, she raised her hands and clasped them against her breast.

‘Adam.’

It was uttered so softly that he thought perhaps he had imagined it. He ran his tongue over his dry lips.

‘Yes, it is I, Mother.’ His voice sounded strained, even to his own ears. ‘If you will own me after all this time.’

Tears darkened her eyes to the colour of a summer sea. She gave a tremulous smile.

‘Adam, oh, Adam, my boy!’ She opened her arms to him. In two strides he crossed the room and hugged her, relief flooding his soul.

‘Oh, let me look at you!’ Between tears and laughter she held him away. ‘My, how you have grown!’

His laughing response was a little unsteady.

‘Devil a bit, madam, I was two-and-twenty when I last saw you. I haven’t grown any taller since then.’

‘No, but you have grown out,’ she told him, her hands squeezing the muscle beneath the sleeves of his coat. ‘But ten years, Adam, Ten years! And never a word.’

‘I know, Mother. It was so very wrong of me. Can you ever forgive me?’

She shook her head.

‘No, nor myself. Those lost years can never be regained. But we both spoke hard words, and I regretted mine almost as soon as they were uttered.’

‘Yours were no more than the truth, Mother. I have so much more to regret. I was such a damned proud fool that I could not turn back.’

‘If only you had written to me, told me where you were. That has been the hardest part, not knowing.’

‘And I can only beg your pardon for that—it was thoughtless of me and I regret it now, most bitterly. I was determined to prove myself, to show you what a success I had made of my life before we met again. What an arrogant fool I was.’

Hannah reached up to push back a lock of hair from his brow.

‘There is a trace of red in that blond thatch of yours, Adam. It is in mine too. When the temper is up we are both too hot to be reasonable.’

‘When I told you I had quit the navy you were so … upset. I felt I had let you down.’

‘No, no.’ She fell silent for a moment. ‘I was … shocked. The navy was your life, and had been since you were twelve years old. And you were doing so well. A captain at twenty—’

‘I know, ma’am, but my advancement was due to the death of other, better officers. Comrades, friends—all perished. After Trafalgar I had had enough of war, of death. I wanted to be building something, not destroying it.’

‘And is that what you have been doing?’

She sat down, beckoning to him to pull up a chair beside her.

‘Of course, and very successfully.’ He saw her eyes stray to his coat. ‘Ah, I do not look like a successful gentleman, is that it? I’m afraid I ran into a spot of trouble on the way here. Nothing serious,’ he added quickly, seeing her anxious look. ‘Trust me, Mother, I have coats more fitting to a man of means, which I am now.’

‘Then I am sorry that I doubted you.’

‘No, no, your doubts were perfectly justified. It was wrong of me to storm off in a rage.’

‘You were a young man, fresh from the triumph of Trafalgar and full of plans for the future. Of course you were impatient of an old woman’s caution.’ She hesitated. ‘And never knowing your father—’

He flinched away, as if the words burned him.

‘Let us not go there, Mother. The circumstances of my birth were not important to the navy, and they mean nothing at all to me now.’

‘Truly?’

He saw the shadow of doubt in her eyes and was determined to reassure her. He had inflicted enough pain already and had no wish to reopen the old wounds. So he smiled, saying earnestly, ‘Truly. The people I deal with are only interested in how much cotton I can produce for them.’

‘Adam, I—’

‘No.’ He put his fingers to her lips. ‘Let us say no more of it. We have not discussed it these thirty years, it is an irrelevance. Instead let me apologise to you again for my long silence. I was headstrong, angry that you doubted me and I wanted to prove I could make something of my life. At first I did not write to you because I was not sure I would succeed. Then, it seemed I had left it too long, I did not know how to explain… .’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘So I thought I should come in person to tell you how successful I have become. And I am successful, Mother, more so than I ever dared to imagine.’ He glanced down at his coat and gave a rueful laugh. ‘More than this shabby garb suggests.’ He leaned forward and took her hands. ‘And now I want you to share in my success. I want you to come back to Rossendale with me. I have bought a property there, a small gentleman’s residence, quite snug and comfortable.’ He read the hesitation in her face and stopped. ‘That is, if you can ever forgive me for running away from you like a petulant child.’

‘You were hurt that I doubted you,’ she said, smiling.

‘Your doubts were well founded. How was either of us to know that manufacturing would suit me so well? I was full of arrogant confidence, but it could all have gone so wrong.’

‘And instead it has gone right?’

‘It has, Mother, it has! And that is why I am here now.’ He grinned, pushing out his chest. ‘I said I would return, Mother, once I had a house worthy of you.’

‘Foolish boy, you know I never asked that of you.’

‘No, but I demanded it on your behalf. Look around you. Your quarters here are far superior to many a gentleman’s house. It has taken me ten years, Mother. I have worked hard and made shrewd investments, and I have a house now that I think you will like. And I have bought land, too, where I plan to build my own house one day, something bigger, suitable for a wife and children—’

‘And do you have anyone in mind?’

Amber’s dark beauty flashed into his mind but he banished it instantly. She was not the yielding, compliant partner he envisaged sharing his life with him. He wanted a wife who knew nothing of the rumours surrounding his birth.

‘No one yet, but there is time for that. For now I want you to keep me company. Tell me you will come, Mother.’

She put her hands to her cheeks.

‘My dear, you must understand—this is all so unexpected. You return after so many years, I must have time to think.’

‘I know it is very sudden, but surely there is nothing to consider. I want you to come and live with me, to spend your days in comfort and ease. You will be your own mistress. Is that not what you want?’

‘Oh, my love, of course, but … I cannot come with you immediately. His Grace is very sick, and Lord Giles is to be married this summer—the family is all at sixes and sevens! There are so many arrangements to make… .’

‘Can the family not make their own arrangements?’ Adam replied impatiently. ‘Surely they have servants enough to deal with a dozen weddings!’

‘Of course they do, but—’ she lifted her hand, indicating the room and saying gently ‘—this has been my home, Adam, for thirty years. I cannot, will not, pack a bag and walk out and leave the family.’

‘I understand that, Mother, but surely, a few days, a week at the most to arrange everything—’

‘Oh, Adam, if only I could.’

‘You can, Mother! You have served the family well. They have no right to expect more from you.’ He looked at her closely. ‘But that isn’t all, is it? What is worrying you?’

She clasped her hands.

‘It is not just the wedding, Adam. There is some doubt about the inheritance—’

‘What, is not James—’

‘Master James is dead.’

‘Good heavens, when was this?’

Hannah hunted for her handkerchief.

‘Some two years since, I do not know the details—it was France, or Spain—something to do with the horrid war.’

Adam ran a hand through his hair. ‘I read that Lord Edward had perished at Waterloo, but Jamie—that makes Giles the heir!’

‘Not quite yet. The family had word that Jamie might be alive, and Lord Harry is gone to look for him.’

‘But that is good news, surely.’

‘Yes, it is, only not long after he went a woman arrived here, with a baby, saying she is Lady—that she is Master Jamie’s widow. The duke is overjoyed to have his grandson here, only—’

‘Only you think she is an imposter?’

‘I do not know, my son. It is all so confused. She seems true enough, but there are little things—and if she should prove to be a fraud, His Grace would be distraught. And he is so very ill, Adam, a mere shadow of the man he once was. His mind is going, you see, and there are so few of us left that he remembers. I do not think I can leave him while there is so much turmoil here, so much to distress him.’

‘I have not seen His Grace since I was twelve,’ said Adam pensively. ‘I was about to depart for the naval college in Portsmouth and he summoned me, to bid me farewell, do you remember? He told me to make everyone proud of me.’

‘And we were, my son. When we read in the dispatches about your bravery at Trafalgar, His Grace sent down a bottle of his best wine for us to toast your health!’

As if I was his own son. The words rose unbidden to Adam’s mind. It was an effort not to speak them, but if his mother had sworn an oath of silence he would not ask her to break it. He had caused her enough pain. He watched his mother turn to put another log on the fire. The plain gold band on her wedding finger was real enough, and there was the emerald ring she wore on the little finger of her right hand on high days and holidays—she had told him once that had been a betrothal gift from his father.

Two substantial rings, tokens from a man of means, such as the duke. As a child, the idea that the Duke of Rothermere was his parent had seemed preferable to not having a father at all but once Adam joined the navy it had ceased to be important. The question was still there, at the back of his mind. It always would be, but he would not let it come between him and his mother again. He was his own man, and proud of it.

Hannah shook off her reverie and looked up, smiling.

‘I am eating in the servants’ hall today. Will you join me, Adam? I would like to show you off.’

Adam grinned.

‘I should be delighted to take lunch with you.’ He held the door open for his mother and followed her out into the corridor, where she addressed the maid who was scurrying by.

‘Becca, we will be having a guest join us for luncheon in the servants’ hall. See to it that another place is laid, if you please.’ She looked at the watch dangling from her waist. ‘It is not nearly so late as I thought—’ Hannah broke off as she saw that the little maid was still standing there, wringing her hands nervously before her. ‘Well, Becca?’

‘Please, m’m, Cook asked me to go and fetch another pot of cream. If I goes back without it …’

‘You may tell Cook that I have sent you back with a message,’ said Hannah, patiently repeating herself. ‘Make sure there is another place laid at the table, Becca, and I will fetch the cream.’ She threw an amused glance towards Adam as the maid hurried away. ‘I was going to suggest we might take a stroll, but it seems I now have an errand.’

‘Then I shall come with you,’ said Adam. He added mischievously, trying to maintain the lighter mood, ‘Who knows, I might catch a glimpse of a pretty dairymaid… .’

They turned to make their way outside, but as they traversed the passage a lanky young footman came in and stopped at the sight of them. Hannah smiled.

‘Ah, Coyle, here is my son, Adam, come home to visit me. You won’t know Joe Coyle, Adam. He joined the family but five years ago.’

Adam nodded affably. The footman nodded back.

‘Ah, now, so it’s Captain Stratton returned, is it? I heard tell you was at Trafalgar, with Lord Nelson, God rest his soul.’

‘I was, but I am no longer a captain. I have sold out.’

Joe cast a critical look over Adam’s shabby coat.

‘Not doing so well, eh?’

Adam felt his mother stiffen beside him, but he merely shrugged, his amiability unimpaired. ‘I’m doing well enough.’

With a nod he took his mother’s arm and moved off, leaving the footman to go on his way. Hannah put her hand on his sleeve.

‘Adam, you should not let them think your pockets are to let—’

He grinned. ‘Better that than they should be dunning me for a loan. But I am sorry that the little fracas on the way here has ruined my coat. I did not pack another, thinking to carry you off within the day.’

‘Oh, my dear—!’

‘It is no matter, Mother. You have explained to me why you cannot pack your things and fly with me immediately.’

‘But I do not want you to disappear immediately either.’

‘I promise you I shall not do that. It was truly arrogant of me to think you would drop everything to come with me. I have left my business in good order, so I can stay in Castonbury for a while.’ The image of Amber Hall rose in his mind, but he dismissed it quickly. He placed his hand under his mother’s elbow. ‘Now, let us make haste to the dairy, before Cook is driven to a rage by a lack of cream.’

Hannah led the way outside and they followed the path that ran around the kitchen wing. The sash windows of the servants’ hall had been thrown up to make the most of the warm spring day, and as they passed, Joe Coyle’s voice came floating out to them, saying with painful clarity, ‘So Cap’n Stratton’s back, His Grace’s by-blow …’

Hannah stopped, her face pale, but before Adam could speak he heard the butler say sharply, ‘You’d best keep such thoughts to yourself, lad, if you don’t want to be turned off.’

‘But ‘tis common knowledge, Mr Lumsden—’

‘Common nonsense, that’s what it is,’ retorted the butler. ‘You’ll get short shrift if you repeat such gossip in this house, Coyle.’

Adam put his hand beneath Hannah’s arm and gently moved her away.

‘Adam—’

‘You need say nothing, Mother. There has always been gossip, even when I was a boy.’

‘Ah, my son, I thought to shield you from that!’

He shrugged.

‘It was never important.’

‘Is that really true? Perhaps it was wrong of me, not to tell you the truth.’

The faded blue eyes were fixed upon him. Adam knew that one word from him and she would break her vow of silence. He paused to consider the matter. He had always looked up to the duke, who had been carelessly kind to him and had paid for him to go to sea. Adam had never felt any bitterness about his upbringing—after all, it was not unusual for peers to have children on the wrong side of the blanket. What was unusual was the care the duke had taken of Adam’s mother, persuading his father the late duke to employ her at Castonbury and allowing her to rise to a position of respect, responsibility and independence. If silence was the price she had had to pay for that, then he was not going to make her break her vows.

‘Growing up without a father has only increased my determination to make something of myself,’ he told her, smiling a little. ‘I have no interest in the past, only in what I am now … which is exceedingly hungry. Let us fetch the cream and return for our luncheon with all speed.’

Adam saw the relief in his mother’s face and knew he had made the right decision.

‘So, Captain—’

‘I am merely Mr Stratton now, sir,’ Adam corrected the butler with a smile, and the old man nodded, his look saying that Adam would always be a captain in his eyes. ‘What are you about now?’

‘I am a manufacturer.’

Adam glanced around the servants gathered together for luncheon and smiled to himself.

They were all looking at him politely, but he read a touch of disdain in their glances. They were wedded to the past, where a title and land was paramount. A man’s status was determined by his birth—and given what Adam had overheard earlier they considered his origins to be highly suspect! Little did they realise that only a few miles away men like himself were making fortunes that would allow them to buy up estates like Castonbury on a whim.

‘And you’ve come back to visit your mother,’ Lumsden continued, bending a fatherly eye upon Adam. ‘Very commendable.’

‘Not just to visit,’ said Adam. ‘I want to take her to live with me in Rossendale.’

This brought a murmur of surprise around the table and Hannah was quick to respond.

‘I shall not go immediately, of course. I would like to remain until after Lord Giles’s wedding.’

‘And so I should think.’ Lumsden nodded. ‘We couldn’t do without you, not at this late stage.’

Adam smiled at his mother.

‘I am afraid you will have to do so eventually.’

She put her hand over his.

‘Even though I will not go back with you immediately, I hope you do not mean to leave me just yet.’

‘No, no, have I not said I shall stay a little while?’

‘How long?’ she pressed him. ‘More than a couple of weeks, I hope.’

Adam hesitated. To remain in Castonbury, where he was clearly thought of as the illegitimate Montague, would not be easy, but he did not wish to leave his mother again so soon. Before he could reply William Everett, the estate manager, cleared his throat.

‘And where might you be thinking of staying?’

‘I am sure the Rothermere Arms will have a room… .’

‘There is the old keeper’s lodge, by the south gate.’

Joe Coyle snorted at Mr Everett’s suggestion.

‘No one’s lived there for many a day.’

‘True, but the building’s sound,’ said William. ‘I’ve been in the village this morning, and I think it might be a good thing to have someone living near the south gate again.’

One of the housemaids gasped, her bright eyes lighting up at the hint of gossip.

‘Oh, why’s that, Mr Everett? Has there been some trouble?’

‘It may be nothing, Daisy,’ he said cautiously, ‘but I heard that Mrs Hall was accosted on her way to Castonbury yesterday. Damaged some of the stock she was bringing back with her.’

‘Dear me, never say she was travelling alone?’ said Hannah. ‘Why did she not use a carrier?’

‘No one’ll work for her,’ replied Joe Coyle, pouring himself another glass of small beer. ‘The last carrier she used was set upon. Had his nose broken. She can’t keep any staff either.’ He wiped his lips and leaned forward, warming to his theme. ‘Bad things happen to ‘em. They get warned off.’

‘Oooh, who by?’ breathed Daisy, hands clasped to her breast.

Coyle shook his head.

‘Nobody really knows, but I think it’s the clothier over at Hatherton. Stands to reason, she’s competition.’

‘But surely she should go to the magistrate,’ said Adam, keeping his tone impartial.

‘No proof,’ replied Coyle shortly. ‘No one will say anything, but I had it from Mrs Crutchley, the butcher’s wife, that the new man’s been trying to drum up business in Castonbury. She says his prices are very good.’

‘Well, I don’t care how good he is,’ retorted Hannah stoutly. ‘We have always used Ripley and Hall to supply our needs and we will continue to do so.’

Adam was heartened his mother’s response, but the conversation worried him. He had been inclined to dismiss Amber’s assertions about her competitor, but if Parwich really did mean her harm, Adam did not think the boy or the old man he had seen at the warehouse would be much help to her. If he stayed at the lodge he could be near his mother and perhaps keep an eye on Amber as well.

William Everett pushed back his chair and rose from the table, saying as he did so, ‘Well, the offer is there if you want it. ‘Twould do the place good to have a few fires lit and I’d be glad to have it known that there is someone living there, especially while we have the lady on her own at the Dower House—’

Coyle snorted contemptuously.

‘The lady!’

William Everett frowned.

‘You’ll watch your tone, young man. If the lady’s case is proved, she’ll be your new mistress!’

‘Lord Jamie’s widow,’ explained Hannah, observing Adam’s raised brows. ‘She and her child have been installed at the Dower House, which is within sight of the old lodge. I confess I am a little worried for her, living there with only a few servants.’

Adam rubbed his chin. He could afford to pay for the best rooms at the inn, but the lodge was conveniently close to the great house.

‘Very well, Mr Everett, I will take up your kind offer and move into the keeper’s lodge for a while.’

‘Very good. The place was adequately furnished, the last time I went in, but of course there is no mattress.’

‘I will send one over directly,’ put in Hannah quickly. ‘I will look out some spare bedlinen too. Daisy will come over and clean the rooms for you. Perhaps Cook will allow Becca to help her. The place will be inches thick in dust.’

‘That is very good of you, Mrs Stratton,’ said Mr Everett. He turned to Adam. ‘I am going that way now if you would care to come and look?’

‘I will,’ said Adam. He drained his tankard and set it back on the table.

‘P’raps Mr Everett can find you some work on the estate.’ Coyle grinned. ‘By the looks of you, a few extra pennies wouldn’t go amiss.’

Adam smiled. If only they knew!

‘Don’t worry,’ he said mildly, ‘I’ll manage.’

Hannah’s chair scraped back. She said brusquely, ‘It

is time we were all back at work. Daisy, clear away, will you?’

Thus dismissed, the servants quickly went about their business.

Hannah put her hand on her son’s arm.

‘Will you come back later, for dinner?’

‘Of course. First I am going to see my temporary quarters.’ He grinned. ‘And then I think I will ride into Castonbury and find myself a new coat!’