Lady Traveller's Guide To Happily Ever After
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It was quite by accident that they discovered when she was busy, she almost seemed her old self. They had then cunningly guided her into volunteering to reorganize the library and collections of the Explorers Club. That in itself took nearly a year and far more of their own time than they had planned on. Who ever would have suspected Poppy had the talent of a general for barking orders and delegating tasks. Effie had always considered her a bit scattered. When one of the ladies on the board of the club’s Ladies Committee resigned to move to York to be with her daughter’s family, they had encouraged Poppy to stand for that seat. She was universally liked and no one ran against her but the position did not take up nearly as much of Poppy’s time as Effie and Gwen had hoped. Then Gwen had come down with a nasty cold and Poppy had charged in to help with her care, and her friends realized this would indeed give her a project of sorts to fill her time. At least until they could come up with something better.
“We’re going to have to think of something else soon, you know. Something to occupy her days and her mind.” Effie sorted her mail into two stacks—the accounts due she could fortunately still pay, and correspondence of an interesting nature. That stack was sadly comprised of only one crisp, cream-colored envelope.
“I am trying to think of something. I have no desire to take to my bed again.” Gwen returned to her study of the obituaries. “Oh look, that nice Mrs. Hackett died. What a shame.”
“I thought you detested Mrs. Hackett.” Effie picked up the envelope and examined it. The stationery was of excellent quality, the handwriting unfamiliar and a bit unsteady. She turned it over. Some sort of embossed seal was on the flap. How very interesting indeed.
“I did, but now she’s dead.” Gwen thought for a moment. “In the scheme of things, one could say I won.”
“Whoever is left standing wins?” Effie slit the envelope with a letter opener, a replica of a sword her husband had owned.
“Something like that.” Gwen settled back in her chair. “I don’t know why I insist on reading these death notices. It seems there is at least one acquaintance listed nearly every day. Why, everyone we know is dropping dead.”
“These things tend to happen when one reaches a certain age.” Effie pulled several pages from the envelope and started to read.
My dear Ophelia,
Forgive me for taking the liberty of calling you dear. In my heart, you have always been my dear Ophelia. But I knew the moment I introduced you to my good friend, William, on that summer night all those many years ago that I would never have the opportunity to call you my dear aloud.
Effie’s breath caught. Richard.
“Still, one does hate to be uninformed,” Gwen continued. “Imagine if I were to have a party. It would be dreadfully awkward if I were to invite someone who is already dead.” She paused. “Of course, they wouldn’t come so it might not be so awkward at that.”
I hope you received my letter of condolence upon William’s passing. He was a good, true friend and I have missed him. It is one of the many regrets of my life that we drifted apart.
What a pity it is to recognize your regrets when it’s too late to do anything about them. My greatest by far was not fighting for your affections. But the way you and William looked at one another on that very first meeting was as if there was no one else in the world. I knew any hope I had was futile. So I chose to step back. And while I still believe it was the right thing to do, I have discovered if one is haunted by any single word in life it is perhaps.
Shock rippled through her. Surely she wasn’t reading this correctly.
“Although a séance would be interesting,” Gwen mused. “I wonder if one sends invitations to the dead.”
I have been ill for some time and I know my remaining days are few. I fear if you are reading this, I have breathed my last. This letter is in the form of my final request, which I am leaving in your capable hands.
“That would be a great deal of fun,” Gwen said thoughtfully. “Although I daresay we couldn’t afford a real spiritualist. But I think Mrs. Addison has a cousin who dabbles in contacting the spirits from beyond. She’s quite good at it from what I hear and I doubt she would charge a fee.”
I can do nothing about the past but, even from the grave, I may be able to influence the future. In my life I have witnessed three great loves. The first was between you and William. The second was my love for you. It seems I can confess in death what I never managed to say in life. Please do not allow my revelation to distress you. I refused to interfere with your happiness and knowing you were happy was enough.
“Still,” Gwen continued, “the last thing Poppy needs is to see Malcomb again. I can’t imagine that would be the least bit helpful.”
I am convinced I have seen one more great love even if those involved refuse to acknowledge it.
“Gwen,” Effie said sharply. “In all those obituaries you read, have you seen a notice about the death of the Earl of Ellsworth?”
“Ellsworth? I’m not sure. It does sound vaguely familiar.” Gwen thought for a moment. “Yes, I think I did see that name. A few weeks ago perhaps? Or longer I suppose. Certainly within the last few months. Did you know him?”
Effie nodded. “I had once thought he might be the man I would marry but then I met William.”
Gwen’s eyes widened. “Oh?”
Effie scanned the rest of the letter. Good Lord. Surely the man wasn’t serious? She held it out to Gwen. “Read this.”
Gwen started to read then looked at Effie. “Are you sure you want me to read this? It seems rather personal.”
“I’d tell you everything it says anyway.”
“There is that.” Gwen returned her attention to the letter.
She was certainly taking her time. Still, Effie had been so shocked she had done little more than skim the rest of the letter. She drummed her fingers on the tray impatiently.
At last Gwen looked up. “This man spent his entire life in love with you.”
Effie winced. “I had no idea.”
“He never gave you a hint as to his feelings?”
“Of course not. Besides, William was like a brother to him, at least when they were young. They went their separate ways as the years went on. The army sent William all over the world and when he left the military, he followed on the heels of your husband. You know as well as I he was hardly ever here. I rarely saw Richard after William and I married.”
Although Effie supposed it was possible that it was difficult for Richard to see William given his feelings for her. “On those occasions when I ran into him he was cordial and pleasant, as any old friend would be, but nothing more than that.”
Gwen nodded. “How very noble of him not to let you know how he felt.”
“Yes, I suppose it was.” And if she had known of Richard’s feelings? “It would have been terribly uncomfortable if he had declared himself.”
“And would you have done anything differently had you known of his feelings?”
Effie shook her head. “No.”
“Did you ever once lead him to believe there could be anything between you once you met William?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you have nothing to feel guilty about.”
“I don’t feel guilty,” Effie said. “I had nothing to do with this. But I do feel badly for him. It’s quite sad, don’t you think?”
“Unrequited love usually is.”
“He was a wonderful man, very charming and quite nice. He was very nearly perfect I suppose. William wasn’t the least bit perfect.” Effie smiled.
“Are you going to take up this challenge he has set for you?”
“It does seem like a lot of effort.”
“It was a man’s dying wish. You really can’t say no to a dying man’s wish.” Gwen paused. “Besides, he says you’ll be paid for any expenses you incur as well as receive a stipend as he anticipates this will take a great deal of your time.” She grimaced. “Do you think he knew of your financial difficulties?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Effie shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly accept his money under those circumstances. I should have to return it.”
“You can’t return it—he’s dead.”
“Then I shall give it to charity,” Effie said staunchly.
“We’ll be charity in no more than a year ourselves,” Gwen pointed out.
For a few minutes, Effie had forgotten about their financial difficulties. “That does put it in a different light.”
“It also seems to me—” Gwen chose her words with care “—this man’s last thoughts were not for himself but for those he loved, which apparently included you.”
“If I agree to do this, I am to meet with his solicitor and the parties involved tomorrow.”
“And?”
“And I suppose when a man who is no longer with us wants to do something rather lovely, it would be bad form for the living to refuse.”
Gwen adopted a casual tone. “You are doing it then?”
“Yes, I suppose I am. But I’m not doing it alone.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
Effie drew her brows together. “Still, it’s a matter of love. It doesn’t seem like the sort of thing one should do for money.”
“You’re not doing it for the money. You’re doing it because a man who cared deeply for you has asked for your help. It’s the only thing he ever asked of you. The money is simply a delightful bonus. He doesn’t need it anymore but with any luck, it will sustain you until we can come up with a way to avoid destitution.”
“Sustain us,” Effie said firmly.
Gwen grinned. “Even better.”
Poppy stepped into the room, carrying a tray with the dreaded broth steaming in a large bowl. “What’s even better?”
Effie and Gwen traded glances.
“I believe, my dear old friend...” Effie smiled in a manner she had been told was more than a little wicked. “We have a new project.”
CHAPTER THREE
“ARE YOU MAD?” The question blurted from James’s mouth before he could stop it. Still, if anything seemed to warrant the questioning of sanity it was the words the solicitor had just dropped like a sudden whiff of something unexpected and extremely unpleasant.
“This is not my idea, James,” Marcus Davies said in a patient manner. He had no doubt been practicing for this particular meeting. He and James had attended school together but hadn’t become friends until after James’s marriage, brought together initially by their shared affinity for raucous living and having a great deal of fun. A few years ago, both men put their respective pasts behind them as Marcus joined his father’s firm—the firm that had long handled Uncle Richard’s affairs—and James had become involved in Uncle Richard’s business interests and estate management. In short, they had grown up. While they had once been cohorts in disreputable antics, they had eventually discovered the advantage of respectable comportment. More’s the pity. “This is entirely your uncle’s doing.”
“He’d never do something so preposterous.”
“Don’t be absurd.” Violet shot him a look of chastisement or annoyance or exasperation or some twisted female combination of all that and more. Women had thrown him all kinds of looks in his life but they were usually far more pleasant and inviting. “It’s exactly the kind of thing he’d do. I never paid a single visit here wherein he didn’t bring up how it was time to reconcile our differences. Indeed, it was his favorite topic.” She glanced at the older lady sitting in a chair strategically placed off to one side of Marcus’s desk. “Mrs. Higginbotham? What do you think?”
“I certainly don’t think Richard was mad, if that’s what you’re implying, my lord.” Mrs. Higginbotham cast him a look shockingly similar to Violet’s. “According to the letter he sent me, he wanted to, well, correct a mistake or right a wrong or prevent a great loss, something of that nature.” The widow was once apparently a good friend of Uncle Richard’s, although James couldn’t recall ever hearing her name. Regardless, his uncle had thought highly enough of this Ophelia Higginbotham to place James’s fate in the lady’s hands. She nodded at Marcus. “I suggest you continue as there will no doubt be further outbursts—” both ladies cast James that unnerving glance again “—and I daresay we don’t want this to go on longer than necessary.”
“Very well.” Marcus shot James a pointed look, a warning to keep his mouth shut. While his firm handled Uncle Richard’s affairs, Marcus personally managed all of James’s legal needs. He was at once James’s friend, legal advisor and, on occasion, protector. The solicitor cleared his throat. “As I was saying, while you do inherit your uncle’s title, his properties—including the country estate and the house in London, as well as his fortune—were his to do with as he pleased.”
James waved off the explanation. “We know all that. Go on.”
“I simply want to make certain you and Lady Ellsworth are clear on all the various aspects of your uncle’s will so there are no misunderstandings.” The others might not realize it but it was apparent to James that his old friend was somewhat amused by Uncle Richard’s will. They would have to discuss later how this was not the least bit amusing. “As his only heir, the argument can be made that you are certainly entitled to his property and his fortune but his lordship was very specific about the conditions under which you would receive it all.
“First, as I’m sure you remember my saying a minute ago—”
“Burned into my brain,” James muttered.
“—you and Lady Ellsworth are to reside together for a period of two years, eleven months, one week and three days. That length of time is based on the date of today’s meeting as per your uncle’s instructions. He wished this meeting to be held as soon after his death as possible. But as Lady Ellsworth was abroad, it did take some time to contact her.”
“Uncle Richard always knew exactly where I was,” Violet pointed out. “We corresponded regularly.”
“The blame for any delay falls entirely on us.” Marcus cast Violet an apologetic smile. “As I was saying, for two years, eleven—”
“Three years,” James said. “You might as well call it three years.”
“For the sake of expediency, very well, three years it is.” Marcus continued. “With no more than a total of fourteen days spent apart during the course of any given year.”
“This residing together begins—” Violet held her breath “—when?”
“Today,” Marcus said. “From this moment on.”
“I see,” she said faintly.
“Secondly, you must appear as a couple—a cordial couple—several times a week—”
“Three,” Mrs. Higginbotham said.
Marcus nodded and continued. “Said appearances are to be in a public setting or in the presence of witnesses.”
James frowned. “What do you mean the presence of witnesses?”
“That is left to the discretion of Mrs. Higginbotham.” Marcus smirked.
“And we have to appear to be happy?” Violet asked.
“You certainly shouldn’t appear to be unhappy. Blatant unhappiness with each other in public would no doubt cause tongues to wag. You will want to avoid that as the third stipulation requires there be no scandal whatsoever. No hint of impropriety, no faint whiff of unpleasant gossip. No rumors, no innuendoes, no insinuations.” His gaze flicked to Violet. “Regarding either of you.” And back to James. “Do you understand?”
“Completely.” James shrugged. “That won’t be the least bit difficult.” Three pairs of skeptical eyes fixed on him. “My name has not been so much as whispered with regards to anything the least bit untoward in quite some time.” Quite some time being defined rather loosely, at least in his definition.
“One more thing.” Marcus glanced down at the papers in front of him to hide his smile. “You are forbidden to mourn or to wear black.”
“He hated black,” Violet and James said in unison.
He glanced at her, but she ignored him.
Violet nodded at the elderly lady. “Is Mrs. Higginbotham the authority on what constitutes scandal, as well?”
Mrs. Higginbotham smiled.
“Mrs. Higginbotham is the sole judge and arbitrator in any dispute or query. In this matter, her power is absolute and she has a great deal of discretion. She may do exactly as she thinks best, even allow for an exemption to any of the stipulations should she deem it necessary. In the case of unforeseen emergencies and the like.” Marcus glanced at James, a note of apology in his voice. “His lordship was quite clear on this matter. He had no doubt Mrs. Higginbotham would wield the authority he has given her in a wise and competent manner as befitting the widow of a colonel and a woman he had long admired.”
“Let me make certain I do indeed understand,” Violet said thoughtfully. “In order for James to receive his inheritance we have to live together, appear as a congenial couple and avoid anything the least bit scandalous for two years, eleven months, one week and three days?”
“Three years,” James said under his breath.
Marcus nodded.
“And if we succeed?” Violet asked.
“James will inherit everything except for a few gifts for charitable institutions and his late lordship’s servants,” Marcus said. “And you, Lady Ellsworth, will receive double your current allowance as well as an annual stipend for expenses for the rest of your life. Your financial independence will be assured. The two of you will also be free to resume your lives as they have been up to this point.”
“I see.” Violet considered Marcus’s words for a moment. “And if we don’t manage this?”
“Then nearly everything goes to charity.” Marcus shrugged apologetically.
Violet slanted James a quick glance. “What if either of us refuses to abide by Uncle’s Richard’s conditions?”
“Again, charity will benefit.”
“So we have no choice,” James said flatly. This was not the least bit fair. Hadn’t he done everything he could to prove to Uncle Richard he was worthy to be his successor? He’d learned how to manage the estate, strategies for investment and all the sundry details of business and management. Why, hadn’t Richard’s fortune grown at James’s hand?
Still, James should have expected something like this. Uncle Richard had never made any secret of the fact that he considered James a bit of an idiot when it came to Violet. And of course he was right. But Uncle Richard was a good man who had never done anything disgraceful in his life. He could never comprehend how the burden of guilt could trap a man and keep him immobile.
“I’ve had a copy of his lordship’s conditions made for each of you. There are some minor details we have not discussed but I assure you they are insignificant. Over the course of the next three years, your joint financial support will be substantially reduced as you will be supporting only one household. Other than that, your income and expenses will remain as they are now. Are there any questions?” Marcus glanced at the gathering.
Violet shook her head slowly. James could almost see the gears and flywheels of her brain sorting through the details of Uncle Richard’s terms. But then she had always been clever. It was one of the things James had liked about her. A familiar sliver of guilt stabbed him, as it tended to do whenever he thought about Violet.
“I daresay, there will be questions, Mr. Davies.” Mrs. Higginbotham glanced at Violet, then James. “At the moment, it’s clear Lord and Lady Ellsworth are still a bit stunned.” She stood, the gentlemen immediately springing to their feet, and pinned James with a firm look. “Might I suggest we join you for dinner tomorrow night at your residence? We shall discuss all of this and I will be able to answer any questions that may have come to mind between now and then. I shall bring my friends, who will be assisting me in this endeavor.” She turned to Marcus. “Perhaps you should join us as well, Mr. Davies.”
It wasn’t a question. Marcus smiled weakly. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
“Excellent.” She nodded at James. “When you return to Ellsworth House you’ll find your staff has prepared the master suite—with separate bedrooms of course—for the two of you, as per your uncle’s instructions.”
If his uncle’s ultimate purpose was in doubt, it certainly wasn’t now. “Did he think of everything, Mrs. Higginbotham?”
“I would hope so, my lord, but we shall see.” She smiled pleasantly. “Until tomorrow evening, then. Good day.” She nodded and took her leave.
James waited until the door closed behind her. “Where on earth did Uncle Richard find her?”
“Apparently he knew her many years ago,” Marcus said thoughtfully. “Before she was married.”
James sank back down into his chair. “We don’t need a governess, Marcus.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“I don’t like putting my fate in the hands of a woman I don’t know.”
“Again, no choice.”
“Why didn’t you warn me about this?”
“Sorry, old man.” Marcus shrugged. “There are rules regarding confidentiality that even I hesitate to break. And your uncle specifically asked me not to say anything to you. I was fond of him, you know.”
“Everyone liked Uncle Richard.” James blew a frustrated breath. “Is there any way out of this? Contest the will or something of that nature?”
“I’m afraid not. We drafted it to your uncle’s specifications and made certain every detail was in order. My father and one of his brothers worked with your uncle for months to ensure it was exactly as he wanted as well as make certain it could not be challenged. They are very good. Even so, I am going over every detail.”
“What if we—”
“I beg your pardon.” Violet glared. “Perhaps you have forgotten but I am sitting right here. As this scheme cannot succeed without me, I suggest either include me in the conversation or shut up altogether.”
Both men stared. This was not the quiet, rather meek woman he’d married. His mind flashed back to the last time he’d seen her—the morning after their wedding. She hadn’t been the least bit meek when she’d informed him in no uncertain terms she never wanted to see him again. James hadn’t heard her raise her voice before. He didn’t know she could. His thoughts on occasion returned to that morning. Violet had been a tall, fire-haired tower of indignation and anger. There’d been a distinct touch of magnificence about her. Uncle Richard had noticed. Pity James hadn’t.
Her demeanor then was attributable to justifiable anger. Last night, it was obvious she was not the same girl he once knew. The difference in her manner was apparent in the set of her chin and the look in her eye. The way she carried herself said without words this was a woman confident of her own worth. This was a woman who would hold her ground. She had changed in other ways, as well. He didn’t remember her red hair being so glorious or her green eyes so captivating or her figure so enticing. There was somehow more to her now. As if she had once been a pencil drawing and was now a painting in oil. She was vibrant. Alive. Remarkable. And far lovelier than he remembered.
“Apparently you are not the only one without a choice,” she said sharply, her eyes flashing with annoyance. “If I do not accept my role in this little farce, I will have virtually nothing to live on. Isn’t that right, Mr. Davies?”
“Yes. Furthermore, there will be no more money for traveling—”
“Yes, yes, I understand that.” She rose to her feet. “Mrs. Higginbotham was right. There will be questions.” She pinned Marcus with a hard look. “Come prepared to answer them.” She nodded curtly and strode out of the office.
James stared after her.
“I thought you said she was timid?” The vaguest hint of awe sounded in Marcus voice.
“She’s changed.”
Marcus chuckled. “Apparently.” He paused. “You’re going to have to stay on her good side, you know, if you want to pull this off.”
“Yes, I know. She’s not overly fond of me.”
“From what you’ve told me, she has good reason for that.” Marcus sat down. “This will certainly require a great deal of effort on your part. It won’t be easy for you.”