“No. You are very kind to say that you would have done the same, but you would not have barged in with my unspeakable arrogance, assuming that I knew the truth and that I had any right to interfere with Winnie’s future. It was quite unforgivable, and I do not expect to be forgiven. Winnie is the very best of creatures, and I am only now realising what a treasure she is, just when she is lost to me for ever.”
***
Walter spent the final day of the journey squeezed into the second carriage with the two valets, Winnie’s maid and an assortment of oddly-shaped packages that could not be put elsewhere. It was not comfortable for any of them, the servants rendered silent by his presence and Walter himself too miserable to do more than stare out of the window as the rain trickled relentlessly down.
He had decided to relieve Winnie of his obnoxious presence even further, by spending a few days at the castle with his father, but as the footmen manhandled his boxes across the bridge and into the entrance hall, and he watched the two carriages drive away without him, he felt oddly bereft. It was as if Winnie were disappearing from his life for ever, and no amount of rational thought could disabuse him of the notion.
“We are delighted to have you home, sir,” Simpson said, as Walter entered the hall. “The castle is not the same without you.”
“Thank you, Simpson, but I shall only be staying a few days to catch up with family news before I return to Birchall House. You survived the visit from Lady Farramont, then?”
“Oh, yes, sir,” the butler said, smiling fondly. “We are used to her ladyship’s ways. She did not stay long, unfortunately, so Lord Farramont, who was following behind, missed her altogether.”
“Oh dear. And how is my father?”
Simpson hesitated. “His lordship bears up wonderfully well, sir, but he would do better if Lady Rennington were here.”
“My mother is not home yet?” Walter said sharply.
“No, sir. I believe she has left Harfield Priory and gone to Lochmaben, sir.”
“Where is my father?”
“In his study, sir. He spends a great deal of time in his study.”
Walter tossed his hat and gloves to the nearest footman, and went at once to the study. The earl was sitting in his favourite chair, positioned beside the window at this time of year, gazing into space. He looked about ten years older than when Walter had last seen him, barely a month ago.
“Father?”
“Eh? Oh, it is you, Birtwell— Walter, I mean.” Then his smile was replaced by a puzzled frown. “Were we expecting you?”
“No, but I am just back from town and thought I would spend a few days with you before I return to Birchall. How are you, Father?”
“Oh, well enough, I suppose. You know that Izzy has gone, I take it? It is safe to come back.” For the first time, there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
“Was it dreadful?”
“It was… trying. And exhausting. But you know Izzy, she can never settle for long, so off she went, with Farramont in hot pursuit.”
“I cannot imagine what Farramont, or any man, sees in her,” Walter said. “Most men want a conformable wife, or at least one who is restful to be with.”
The earl chuckled. “And yet she had half the men in town in love with her when she first came out, and four serious suitors. Farramont was not the only one, by any means. He is still besotted with her, unfathomable as it may seem to the rest of us. But what of you? How did you get on in town? Sofia Strong lives in Westminster now, does she not — a trifle out of the way.”
“She is Sofia Blackwood now, and has a pleasant house backing on to St James’s Park, a very convenient location for those engaged in government business. They have offered me a home there, if I decide to pursue a career in the Treasury with Alfred Strong and Edmund Blackwood.”
“A career! You should not have to earn your bread like a nobody, but if you must do it, you must. Still, I do not like a son of mine living so close to the river. It is not healthy. You could easily have rooms in Grafton Street, if you want. That would be more appropriate for your station in life.”
“My station in life? A bastard son?”
“The son of anearl, Walter. I shall not treat you any differently, just because of this stupid business. You are my eldest son, and I will have you held in respect. You may keep your allowance for ever, if you want, and Langley Villa is still yours whenever you marry. You do not need to grub about in the Treasury.”
“It would hardly be right to hang on your sleeve for the rest of my life, Father, and Uncle George after you.”
“Then marry a woman of fortune. With your looks and address, you would have not the least difficulty. Twenty thousand would set you up perfectly well to live as a gentleman.”
“Father, I have been idle too much. I want to work for a living, and I believe I shall like grubbing about in the Treasury. Now tell me about everyone else. How is Mother?”
A shadow crossed the earl’s face. “I wish she would come back, Walter,” he said, his voice as querulous as a man of eighty.“I miss her abominably. I feel like a rudderless ship without her. But she has this bee in her bonnet and nothing I say makes any difference to her.”
