“He is a sensible man, so he will not stand in the way of his daughter’s happiness. He always thought Miss Franklyn was marrying above her station, you know, allying herself with the Athertons. He was only an attorney before his sudden acquisition of wealth. Your situation would have been difficultif you had not already found the woman of your heart, but as it is… you will do well enough, Walter. A happy marriage can compensate for any number of worldly disappointments.”
Walter made no quibble over‘the woman of your heart’, for his feelings towards Bea were not something he wished to discuss openly, even if he understood them himself. Fortunately, the clock struck twelve, and his father opened the door to admit the crowd gathered outside. There was a bustle of finding enough chairs for the ladies and settling them, while the men stood uneasily behind them. Probably there had never been so many people squashed into that small room before.
It was clear from his mother’s white face that she was already aware of the disaster which had befallen them. The others displayed varying degrees of anxiety, for this was an unusual enough event to cause alarm even in the most sanguine breast. Only Kent, always the most happy-go-lucky of the family, was cheerful and even excited by the unexpected summons.
“No Eustace, I see,” he said, chuckling. “I suppose he has lost his way on the ride over here.”
“It is barely twelve miles, and he makes the journey often enough that he can scarcely lose his way,” Olivia said. “How silly you are, Kent.”
“Eustace has no sense of direction,” Kent said, grinning. “He can lose his way in his own house.”
“Hush, children,” Mother said. “Do not be squabbling at such a time. Charles, must we wait for him? Can we not just get this over with?”
And that, more than anything else, underscored the dramatic nature of the meeting, such that even Kent and Olivia subsided. Father would not start without Eustace, however, so they waited until, a full twenty minutes after the designated hour, Eustace strolled in.
“Well, whatever happened here?” he said, looking at the long faces. “Has someone else died?”
“How can we know?” Olivia said. “We have been waiting for you to arrive. Why are you always late, Eustace?”
“He is here now,” the earl said tersely. “It is immaterial whether he is early or late, for the situation will not change, no matter how long we wait.”
“For heaven’s sake, Papa! Tell us what has happened,” Olivia cried.
And in the same meagre handful of words he had employed with Walter, the earl turned his whole family’s life upside down. Walter stood to one side of the fireplace, watching their faces as they came to understand the consequences. Bewilderment, disbelief, anger, shock — all of those. But most of all, fear. That he recognised, for he felt it himself. What would their lives be like now? There was not one of them in that room who would be unaffected by it. Aunt Alice’s hands flew to her mouth, tears sparkling on her lashes. Olivia cried out, “No, no, no!” in a strange, high voice. Eustace swayed as if he might faint. Even Uncle George and Bertram, who stood to gain the most from the change, paled and exchanged unhappy looks, while Aunt Jane, the future countess, burst into tears. Only Kent laughed and said, “Well! That is not what I expected, not at all,” seeming not displeased.
They went round and about it, asking the same questions as Walter, receiving the same uncompromising answers. No, there was nothing to be done. Yes, Walter — indeed, all the boys — were disinherited. No, Josie was not affected. Yes, Izzy was in the same situation. They went around and about, but eventually their questions trickled away.
“I suppose you will have to give up Miss Franklyn, Walter,” Eustace said, into the lengthening silence.
“There is no need to consider such a drastic step,” the earl said.
“But Walter has nothing to offer a wife now,” Eustace said. “No title, no money of his own, so—”
“What does that matter, when they have a mutual affection strong enough to sustain them through every adversity?” the earl said sharply. “They will have enough to live on, that is the important consideration.”
“Fromherfortune,” Eustace said. “I should be ashamed to live on my wife’s money, and not bring anything to the marriage myself.”
Uncle George laughed. “I have been living on my wife’s money for decades, Eustace. Two people should not be forced apart merely because of a disparity in wealth. It is not as if Walter set out, penniless, to secure Miss Franklyn’s fortune. He won her heart fairly, when the advantage of the match was all on her side. Why should he give her up now, when the balance has shifted somewhat? He is still the same man she fell in love with, after all.”
Eustace subsided, but he looked at Walter thoughtfully, as if he doubted his uncle’s pronouncement. Walter could not in all conscience argue the point. Physically, he was indeed the same man as before, but his position in society was markedly different. He had gone in a moment from being a viscount with great rank and wealth awaiting him, his future mapped out in its entirety, to being an outcast — an illegitimate son with no future at all.
Even his name had been taken from him. He no longer knew who he was.
***
Walter went straight to the stables and waited while his horse was saddled. His groom Herbert, like all the servants, was aware of something momentous occurring, and asked a few questions, in a roundabout sort of way, but Walter was not minded to enlighten him. He would find out soon enough, for such events could not be kept from the servants, and thus from the world. It was why he must ride at once to Highwood Place to tell Bea that she was not to be a countess after all.
The hard gallop over the moors did a great deal to clear his head. However bad his situation, there was nothing at all to be done about it, so there was no point in railing against fate. By the time he slowed for the descent, the windows of Highwood glinting below him in the afternoon sun, he was much more philosophical. He would settle matters with Bea, perhaps set a date for the wedding, he might even tamely agree to be married at Marshfields, if she wished it. Their future together would alleviate the pain of losing his inheritance. There would be children and a comfortable life, even without the title. He would not be shunned because of this misfortune which was not his fault… was not the fault of anyone living. And there was no longer the heavy burden of rank and duty and obligation to weigh him down. That thought was unexpectedly freeing.
The Franklyns’ butler greeted him with a knowing smile. “Good day, my lord. Miss Franklyn will be delighted to see you. The ladies are on the terrace at present.”
“I should like to see Mr Franklyn first,” Walter said.
“Very good, my lord. If you would care to wait in the library, I will fetch him to you.”
My lord…that would have to stop. “Tell him that Mr Atherton is here to see him.”
“Very good, my lord,” he said imperturbably.
