Regency High Society Vol 6: The Enigmatic Rake / The Lord And The Mystery Lady / The Wagering Widow / An Unconventional Widow

‘What will you do, then?’

Sarah drew in a breath, anticipating the opposition that would meet her carefully thought-out statement, but would not be deterred. ‘I must find a position, some form of employment. I need an income and a settled home for myself and my son. John is now more than five years. He needs a home. So do I.’

‘Sarah! No!’ As expected, Judith put down her cup with some force.

‘I only have a small pension from the navy since my husband’s death.’ Sarah laid out her argument as clearly and plainly as she could. It had sounded very well at three o’clock in the morning when sleeplessness had finally forced her to weigh her options. ‘I shall receive no further income from my own family, the Baxendales, either now or any time in the future. I made an enemy of Edward, did I not, when I uncovered his nefarious pursuits? So,’ she repeated, folding the napkin on her lap with careful precision, ‘I need a position of employment and an income.’

‘You must not work!’ Judith was suitably aghast.

‘Why not? Many women in my position, women of good family who have fallen on difficult times, would find no hardship in seeking some form of occupation.’

‘But what would you do? Tell her, Simon! It is not suitable that Sarah take employment. Indeed it is not! I cannot imagine what my mama would say if I allowed it. Or your sister Theodora.’ Judith stopped and blinked at the prospect. ‘Although perhaps I can. Thea has a sharp tongue and an apt turn of phrase. She would be horrified.’

The Earl lowered his paper at last. His eyes spoke of understanding and compassion for the lady’s predicament. ‘Sarah must do exactly as she wishes, my dear. Whatever it is, we will help. But I do agree, Sarah, with my wife. You must consider carefully before you take up any position that might be unsuitable for you. I understand your concern over your situation.’ He hesitated. ‘Are you sure that there is not a life for you in New York?’

‘No, I will not go back.’ On that one point she was adamant. ‘But thank you, Simon. I knew that you would understand. I shall remain here in England.’

‘And do what?’ Judith returned to the crux of the matter.

‘I think I could be a governess.’ Sarah’s lack of experience for any position troubled her, but at least this one, based on her own education and upbringing, held a possibility. ‘I have some skills appropriate for the education of a young lady. Or I could be a housekeeper, I expect. Would you give me references, dear Judith?’

‘No, I would not! I am not at all in favour and so refuse to aid and abet you in this ridiculous proposal.’ The Countess reached across the table to grasp Sarah’s restless fingers. ‘I will tell you what I think. You should marry again. You are so pretty, Sarah, it would be quite the best answer.’

‘Judith…!’ Sarah shook her head in frustration but returned the warm clasp. ‘I am twenty-five years old with a son. And little to recommend me in the way of good looks. Not like Thea, or Eleanor—both of them so beautiful. I fear that I would never draw all eyes if I stepped on to the dance floor at Almack’s as they would. I have no income of my own, no influential connections—nothing to recommend me. Who would consider marriage to me?’

Judith frowned and tapped her thumb nail against her pretty teeth, ignoring much of Sarah’s reasoning, selecting the one omission in Sarah’s explanation. ‘So you are not actually averse to remarriage.’

Sarah thought about this. A marriage of convenience? Never. The memory of her husband, John Russell, a captain in the Royal Navy, slowly crystallised in her mind. It was more than five years since he had died at sea in the final year of the Napoleonic Wars, before Waterloo. She was shocked at how unclear his image had become with the passage of time. She had been so young, he some years older, and she had been dazzled by the attention of this grave gentleman in flattering uniform with gold braid. Meeting her at the home of a distant relative in London, he had rescued her from an unsatisfactory home, carried her off and married her in the face of family disapproval. She smiled as she remembered him, a warm, caring man, considerate of his young wife’s inexperience and insecurity. It saddened her that she had seen so little of him during their brief marriage—a matter of months—and he had never set eyes on his splendid son, meeting death in a bloody skirmish at sea within weeks of the child’s birth.

Had she loved John Russell? Well—yes…if love was a deep affection, a warm, gentle, caring emotion.

Her mind flitted to more recent events where her memory was stronger, her emotions more recently engaged. Where she had seen a quite different interpretation of love. She had seen the strength of love possible between Henry and Eleanor, a bright, all-consuming passion that could sweep all before it. And more recently the unshakeable bond created from the heartbreaking difficulties between Nicholas and Theodora, where love had finally triumphed against all the odds. Love, it seemed, could be found in many different guises.

So, no, she realised, she could not accept a marriage simply for money or comfort or future security. Her heart must be engaged.

She became aware of Judith awaiting her answer with growing impatience.

‘No, I am not averse to marriage,’ she replied with a little smile, a ghost of regret. ‘But only if I find someone I can love. I will not marry for less.’ Catching a flash of interest in the Countess’s emerald eyes, she raised her hand, but laughed as she recognised the gleam of a plan being formed. ‘And I would be grateful if you did not set yourself to put me in the way of a suitable husband, Judith!’

It was almost, Sarah decided only a half hour later that same morning, as if fate in a coquettish moment had determined to take a hand in the game. Although for better or worse, she was as yet unsure. It was one thing to be adamant that she needed some gainful employment, quite another to secure a position that she would consider suitable for herself and her son. But wily fate, in the guise of Lady Beatrice Faringdon, imposing in puce and ostrich plumes, decreed that her dilemma be settled with almost unseemly speed. Simon had taken himself to Tattersall’s, leaving Judith and Sarah to finish their desultory conversation over the breakfast cups, when the door opened to admit Lady Beatrice, Judith’s mama. She waved Matthews, the butler, aside when he would have announced her, greeted the ladies and settled herself at the table where she accepted a cup of tea from her daughter.

Lady Beatrice, large and dominant in the small room, had an air of ruffled displeasure about her, causing Judith to eye her askance.

‘Well, Mama. This is early for you to be visiting.’

‘Well!’ The stout lady took a breath and squared her ample shoulders, thus causing her fading red curls and the plumes in her bonnet to shiver. ‘There has been a development.’

Judith and Sarah exchanged glances, but waited in silence. Not for long.

‘It is your brother Joshua. He plans to return to London next week. And not simply a passing visit.’ The expression on Lady Beatrice’s face could only be described as sour. The return of her firstborn, Joshua Sherbourne Faringdon, to her maternal bosom obviously did not fill her with pleasure.

In comparison, Judith’s immediate smile lit her face with delight. ‘Sher! Why, that is splendid news. It is so long… But I thought he was fixed in Paris for the duration. Why the sudden change of plan?’

‘I do not know. Your brother did not deign to tell me in the letter that I have just received. What he did do is issue a list of instructions—as if I had not better things to do with my time.’

‘Ah!’ Judith understood perfectly. ‘And you thought that I would be willing to take them on.’

‘Why not? You have a much closer relationship with Joshua than I.’ Beneath the chill and patent disapproval there was undeniably the slightest layer of hurt, although Lady Beatrice would have been the first to deny it. ‘I have heard not one word from him for over a year and then all he can do is send me a list—as if I were his secretary’

‘You have not heard from him, Mama, because you are too critical of him and too ready to listen to scandal.’ Judith had inherited her mother’s predilection for plain speaking. ‘You can hardly blame Sher for keeping his distance. It seems to me that—’

Lady Beatrice lifted her hand to bring a halt to any further discussion of her lack of compassion toward her son. ‘I will not discuss your brother’s habits and amusements. They are extreme and—’ She closed her lips firmly on the subject. ‘Suffice it to say they bring no credit to the family. Sometimes I am ashamed to own him.’

Judith sighed. The estrangement was nothing new, with no spirit of compromise or hope of reconciliation on either side. Sher continued to conduct his life with a cavalier disregard for the forms of behaviour that would make him acceptable to the haut ton. Lady Beatrice would tally his many sins and see no good in her only son. ‘Very well, Mama. Tell me what it is that he wants.’

Lady Beatrice extracted a much-folded sheet of paper from her reticule and viewed it with distaste. ‘To open up his town house in Hanover Square,’ she read. ‘To arrange for the child to travel up from the country to join him there. To arrange for some suitable staff—cook, butler and so on—so that all is in readiness for his return—by the end of next week.’

Judith laughed aloud. ‘Well, that sounds fairly much in character! Anything else?’

Even Sarah, a silent observer of this conversation since she had neither met Lord Joshua nor had any knowledge of him, smiled. Another Faringdon! It seemed to her a familiar response by the men of the family, to issue orders and expect them to be carried out quickly and effortlessly.

Lady Beatrice had not finished. ‘He also states that he needs an educated and proficient person to act as housekeeper and also governess to take over the care and education of the child—what is her name? I can never remember—something French. Why he could not have insisted on a good English name I will never understand! Our family have always had English names.’

‘Celestine,’ Judith provided somewhat absently, her mind already occupied with the project and shutting out her mama’s habitual complaints and wilful rejection of the Italian derivation of her own name. ‘Very well. I will talk to Simon about arranging for the provision of staff and… ‘

Sarah’s interest in the proceedings, fairly mild until this point, now found a sharp focus. Lord Joshua Faringdon. Judith’s brother. Needed a housekeeper and governess for a young girl called Celestine. In London. An educated and proficient person. Why not? She managed to remain silent in a blaze of impatience until Lady Beatrice completed her diatribe and took herself off, delighted at having passed the burden of her son’s return into Judith’s not unwilling lap. Then Sarah fixed her gaze on Judith, who was still perusing the list that her mama had thoughtfully left.

‘I can do that.’ A strange breathlessness gripped her.

‘Hmm?’

‘It is exactly the sort of position that I need. Which I can do. Housekeeper and governess.’

Which statement made Judith look up with an instant frown. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘It would be too… too demeaning! You know my opinion on the whole foolish project. But to have my friend in my brother’s employ—I will not consider it.’

‘I need a position, Judith. It is the ideal opportunity, I do assure you—consider the advantages for me.’

‘No!’

‘It will enable me to remain in London.’ Sarah leaned forward, slender hands spread on the table cloth, urgency in every line of her body.

Judith’s silent displeasure was answer enough.

‘I shall be able to educate both my son and the child. I shall regain my independence. I shall have a home.’

‘I do not think that you should.’

‘I do.’ Sarah dropped her eyes from her friend’s searching glance, her voice low. Unaware, her fingers interlaced and gripped tightly. ‘It will also perhaps help me to regain some self-respect.’

‘But, Sarah—’

‘I owe your family much.’ Now, her mind made up, her gaze was direct and steady again. ‘Here is the best opportunity I can imagine to pay off that debt, dropped into my hands as if it were a precious gift. How can I possibly turn my back against it? Let me do it, Judith. Don’t stand in my way, I beg of you… as my friend.’

As a final argument, Judith had no answer against it, and could only continue to frown her distaste for the development. Yes, she was Sarah’s friend, and knew better than most the agonies the lady had suffered as a result of her brother Edward’s malicious scheming and her own part in his clever fraud. Perhaps this means of earning forgiveness—although Judith could not see the need for Sarah to be forgiven!—would allow Sarah to achieve some essential peace of mind and put the events of the past finally to rest. Furthermore, Judith had to acknowledge that Sarah Russell could, when challenged, be a lady of considerable determination. It was rare to see her cornflower-blue eyes shine with quite that depth of emotion. Sarah was not to be dissuaded.

So, it seemed that in Sarah’s mind the matter was settled. But Judith was not at ease with the outcome.

Wisely, Sarah allowed Judith some space in which to ponder the advantages of her taking up the appointment in Lord Joshua Faringdon’s household, holding to the thought that she would soon see the sense of it. Then, when she knew that the Countess of Painscastle had spent some frustrating time in undertaking to engage the required staff for her brother, with limited and haphazard success, she broached the subject again as if the matter were indeed settled.

‘Will you tell me about him, Judith? Lord Faringdon? After all, he will be my employer and I would wish to have some knowledge of his requirements.’

Judith tutted—but in reluctant agreement. Finding an experienced butler and cook at such short notice was proving difficult enough, even without the educated and proficient per son. So if Sarah was quite determined…

‘Are you indeed sure?’

‘Certainly I am. I think that heaven has smiled on me in dropping this chance at my feet. I would be foolish to ignore it.’

The ladies were taking an airing in Judith’s barouche.

‘I would not put it quite in those words. Neither, I fear, will you after living under my brother’s roof. He can be somewhat—ah, unreliable.’

‘Unreliable?’ This was not what she had expected, although Lady Beatrice’s unexplained disapproval could not be overlooked. ‘I wish that you would tell me about your brother. I do not think I have ever heard you speak of him. And why your mama is so…so…’

‘So unforgiving,’ Judith supplied with a rueful smile. ‘Well, now. He is older than I by a little less than ten years—so we were never close as children. I admired him—the splendid older brother, as you might imagine. He had no time for me, of course—the younger sister still in the nursery—but I worshipped from afar.’ She wrinkled her nose a little as she searched her memories. ‘By the time that I had my coming-out Season, he was no longer living at home. I suppose the truth is that I do not know him very well, although he was never unkind to me as some brothers might be,’ she added ingenuously.

‘Does he have red hair like you?’ Sarah cast a quick glance at Judith’s fiery ringlets.

‘No.’ She chuckled, reasonably tolerant of her own dramatic appearance, even though it prevented her from wearing her favourite shade of pink. ‘Fortunately for him, Sher is dark like the rest of them. I was the only one to be afflicted by Mama’s colouring. How unfair life is! But his eyes are grey—sometimes almost silver—not green like mine. He is outrageously handsome, of course.’

Of course. Sarah knew only too well, claiming close acquaintance with the charm and good looks of both Henry and Nicholas Faringdon.

‘And he lives in Paris, I understand.’

‘Yes. Mostly. Although he has property in England. Sher married a French lady—before I was myself married—Mademoiselle Marianne de Colville was her name. The marriage was very sudden, so I think it must have been a love match. I only met her twice, once when they were wed, but I remember that she was an arresting lady—not a beauty exactly, but one of those dazzling women who take the eye, with dark hair and dark eyes. Very French, you understand, with a most stylish wardrobe. I remember being highly envious as a young girl, when fashion meant far more to me than it does now…’ Judith did not notice Sarah turning her head to survey an approaching landaulet and to hide a smile at this remarkable admission. ‘But anyway, she died in Paris more than three years ago now. It was all very sad and sudden—quite tragic—some sort of fever that did not respond to any of the advice given by the doctors. We were all quite taken by surprise—from what we knew of the lady, Marianne had always seemed so full of life. But there… She was buried in France, probably at her family home somewhere in Provence.’ Judith lifted her hand in recognition of the occupants of the landaulet. ‘I did not know Lady Portinscale was back in town. But where was I…? Sher does not talk about Marianne and her death. I expect that he was stricken by remorse, losing the love of his life. Not that you would guess from the manner in which he has conducted his life since,’ she added drily. ‘But perhaps I should not have said that.’

Sarah thought about this. Knowing Judith well, there was no need to ask the lady’s enigmatic meaning. The Countess would assuredly confide every detail to her friend before they completed the first circuit of Hyde Park. ‘Why do you call him Sher?’

‘It is a family name—Joshua Sherbourne Faringdon. A childhood thing—Hal and Nick always called him that. I think I got into the habit because Mama disapproved. It was not the thing, she said. But Sher did not object—he always did what he could to annoy her.’

‘And so he has a daughter?’

‘Yes. Celestine. She must be a little older than John. Perhaps eight years old now.’

‘And has lived in the country.’

‘Sher sent her to England, even before her mother died, when she was quite a little girl, hardly more than a baby,’ Judith explained. ‘He has a house at Richmond on the edge of the Park, so the child has grown up there. He thought it better than keeping her in Paris—or even coming to London. She travelled with her nurse. One cannot but pity her, brought up by servants, with no other company and no one to play with. Perhaps I should have brought her to live with us—but that was before the birth of Giles and we set up our own nursery. Celestine would have been just as lonely in Grosvenor Square as in Richmond.’

‘Poor child. She will have missed her mother.’

‘I suppose. It will be better for her to be in London with a governess. I barely remember her, but on the one occasion Sher brought her to visit us when he was last home it seemed to me that she was a very plain child, silent for the most part and quite timid. As I said, she has not had an enviable life.’ Judith slanted a glinting smile at Sarah. ‘Perhaps it is a good plan after all—that you take over the care of her.’

Inclined to agree, Sarah sat quietly, piecing together her newly acquired knowledge. Poor child indeed, robbed of both parents. Had her father done anything to keep in touch with her? Sarah decided that, as a prospective employee, it was a question too delicate to ask. For herself, she could not imagine abandoning her own son in quite a different country, to be raised by paid employees who had no personal connection with the child. But, she supposed, that was not for her to question.

‘Why does your mama not talk of him?’ She returned to the blank spaces in her knowledge. ‘As the only son and heir and now head of the family I would have expected her to welcome his return.’

‘Not at all!’ Judith took a breath. Here it came! Gossip was the spice of life to her. ‘Sher has… well, he has a reputation. If you had been out and about in polite society, dear Sarah, you would undoubtedly have heard.’

‘Oh.’ Sarah nodded thoughtfully. Lady Beatrice’s caustic words had suggested that such might be the case.

‘A string of mistresses. And very expensive.’ With little encouragement necessary, Judith now had no compunction in filling in the detail. ‘When he was younger, Sher was often in debt and, when Papa was alive, he expected him to bail him out. Gambling, you understand. Horses and cards. He lost a great deal of money playing vingt-et-un at one of the gaming hells in Pall Mall. I think it was the cause of some harsh words between him and Papa. Understandable, of course, but words that became unforgivable—on both sides.’

‘I see.’ Sarah’s eyes widened in amazement. She had had no idea.

‘And then there was the notorious Grayson affair in London.’ Judith leaned confidingly toward her friend, all animation. ‘The lady was married! And her family was one of the foremost of the ton. I remember nothing of it but I am told that it was all very embarrassing. That was the occasion on which Sher first went to Paris. Papa sent him there until the gossip died down, refusing to pay any further debts unless he complied and put his life in order. It was the talk of every withdrawing room in town. I think that might have been the final straw for Mama, to hear the whispering come to a halt every time she entered a room. So Mama prefers it when he makes his home in Paris. Although,’ Judith confided, finally, ‘she had not entirely given up on the thought of his remarriage to reform his wicked ways. Although who would agree to marry him, I cannot imagine. Even though he is very rich, most mamas of hopeful débutantes would not willingly look for the connection.’

‘I can well understand,’ Sarah agreed in lively horror and some degree of fascination.

‘So, you see, Sher acquired the reputation as a rake and something of a ne’er-do-well. I think perhaps he did not deserve it. He was very young.’ Judith’s pretty lips pursed as she tried for an honest judgement on her brother. ‘I am extremely fond of him. But there was also the scandal of the ladies of the chorus at Covent Garden!’

‘Really?’ Sarah found the recital riveting. ‘More than one? I had thought that all Faringdons had an eye to propriety.’

‘Not Joshua. He has an eye to every pretty member of the female sex.’ Judith sighed. ‘I shall say no more! Except to suggest that you might—indeed you might—be advised to reconsider your application for a position in his household.’

Sarah laughed and reassured her, knowing that as housekeeper her path would rarely cross with that of her noble employer. How Lord Joshua Faringdon might choose to live his life would have nothing whatsoever to do with her and have no bearing on her own duties in his establishment. But Judith’s artless confidences left her to consider that she was not the only one to have a brother in the form of a skeleton in the family closet. She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. And that Faringdon skeleton was now her employer.

Two days later Judith’s reluctant acceptance of Sarah Russell’s new status had undergone a sea change. On receipt of a letter from Paris, she was indeed prepared to say more, and did so unequivocally on running Sarah to ground in the private garden at the centre of Grosvenor Square where, despite the blustery weather, she threw a ball for John to chase and catch.

‘Sarah! I have just received a letter from my brother. I am entirely convinced that you should not take up the position in his house.’ The fact that the letter was remarkably frank and detailed had given her only a moment’s pause. If she had known how painstakingly Lord Joshua had constructed it, how much time he had spent in plotting the scandalous content, and how much he was prepared to gamble on his flighty sister’s inability to remain silent when in possession of a delicious piece of scandal, she would have been astounded. But she did not know any of these things and so jumped to the hoped-for conclusion. Presumably Sher did not care one jot about the comment that he was about to provoke in London. He was entirely without principle and honour, despite his birth and upbringing as a gentleman. As a Faringdon! It all went to prove that Sarah should not find herself in the role of housekeeper in the resulting den of iniquity.