With a flick of his head, Franklyn dismissed her, and she bounced out of the room, quite unperturbed.
11: Changes
Walter was too stunned to move or even to speak, but Franklyn turned to his wife, sitting composedly watching him, her expression serene.
“This is your doing, madam, I must suppose, filling her head with grandiose ideas so that she forgets her true station.‘Entitled to marry into the peerage’,indeed. What nonsense!”
“All I have done, Mr Franklyn,” Lady Esther said placidly, “is to introduce her into a society superior to any she might have known before. It is inevitable that, with such examples before her, she will lift her eyes a little higher in her search for a husband. Why should she not marry into the nobility?”
“Because her father was an attorney and her fortune came from iron foundries, that is why. I put no rub in the way of her union with Mr Atherton, but only because I thought it was a love match. I never thought herentitledto marry so high. Well, I shall write a note to Mr Bertram Atherton to warn him that Bea is setting her cap at him, and that he should not fall for her wiles.”
Lady Esther actually laughed. “Her wiles, Mr Franklyn? Heavens, you make her sound like a veritable harpy. She is merely a girl looking for the one match above all others that will make her happy, and she has wisely realised that her comfort will best be assured by marrying as high as she can manage. If MrWalterAtherton had no objection to your former profession and the source of Beatrice’s fortune, then I am sure MrBertramAtherton will have none.”
And with that she rose, and swept gracefully out of the room.
Walter and Franklyn gazed at each other in utter bemusement, before Walter abruptly burst into laughter. “Women!” he said with feeling.
Franklyn gave a wry smile. “I am excessively relieved you see some amusement in this situation, my lord… I mean, Atherton. I cannot apologise enough for my daughter. To think that she pursued you so relentlessly for… what, four years? And all the time, the only thing she cared about was your title.”
“No, no,” Walter demurred. “I ammuchbetter looking than Bertram.”
Franklyn laughed outright at that, although he shook his head, too. “It was very wrong of her to say such a thing. Do you know, when I married my wife, one of the advantages of the match, as I saw it, was that she would instil a little conduct in Bea, and teach her to behave in a truly ladylike manner. Not that Bea was ever precisely unladylike, but her thinking was not always correct. But this… this is appalling!”
“Bea has every right to end our engagement if she wishes,” Walter said mildly. “I do not blame her for that. She betrothed herself to the heir to wealth and title, and to find herself about to marry a bastard with no expectations whatsoever… I cannot blame her for severing the connection.”
“I confess, it made me uneasy to think of you living as a gentleman on Bea’s fortune and bringing very little to themarriage. The world frowns on such unions, so if I had not believed her heart to be engaged, I should have turned you away myself. No, it is not her decision that I deplore, but the manner of it, Atherton! She could have let you down gently… change of circumstances, uncertain future, something of that nature.”
“But is it not better to find out the nature of her attachment to me before the marriage, rather than afterwards? I thank God that this terrible situation was revealed before we were irrevocably bound to each other. Never has the saying‘for better or for worse’had greater resonance.”
“True enough,” Franklyn said. “But if you are not to live like a gentleman on Bea’s fortune, what will you do? You will not want to be a burden on your father’s estate for ever, so will you seek a career, or perhaps become a fortune hunter in good earnest? I have to say, you have looks and charm enough for the enterprise.”
“I have no idea. I knew nothing of this until…” he glanced at the clock. “Less than three hours ago, and I have been thinking only of Bea since then. Fortune hunting holds no appeal, and I cannot imagine any career for which I would be fitted. I am too old now for the army or navy or the law, and I cannot feel I am suited for the church. I do not wish to become a grocer.”
Franklyn laughed. “No, indeed! But you need not stoop so low. You are very well suited, I should think, to become a steward at one of the great estates of the north. Your father’s, possibly, but if not, he must know all the other principal landowners of Yorkshire. Or if you have an interest in the other side of land management, the buying and selling and exchange of contracts, I know three or four well-established partnerships of attorneys who would be very happy to offer an accelerated apprenticeship to a man of your calibre. There is good money to be made, for those with an eye for detail and of known character. Your family’s reputation would ensure your success. But there isno need to rush into anything. You must take the time to adjust to your altered situation. Whatever you do, be assured that I shall always stand your friend.”
Walter said all that was proper, and took his leave, but as he rode home, he was surprisingly light-hearted. He was now free of an engagement that he had drifted into without much thought, and Bea’s rejection had no power to hurt him.
***
Sir Hubert Strong received a note at breakfast one morning.
“From Corland,” he said, with a smile, as he broke the seal. “Rennington will be getting up some scheme or other, I dare say. Fishing, perhaps, or— Good God!”
“Sir Hubert!” said his lady, in shocked tones.
“I beg your pardon, but this—! It is—! I can barely make it out. Itcannotbe true. No, I must have misunderstood. Winnie, dear, read it out loud, for it concerns… well, you will see.”
“Very well, Papa.”
Winnie took the paper from his trembling hands and smoothed it out.
“‘My very good friend, I write with the most extraordinary news which has cast us into the greatest anguish. All our lives are overturned and will never again be as they were. I tell you this so that—’”
“Oh, whatever has happened?” Lily cried. “They are dead! They are all dead!”
Winnie glanced up. “Not all, Lily, or Lord Rennington would not be able to write to us. May I read on?”
Lily held her handkerchief to her mouth, in preparation for the gruesome details, but Mama said placidly, “Yes, do, Winnie.”
