So I had to tell him the ‘secret’. He’d shook his head a lot during the telling of the story and tutted almost as much. But at the end of it, he said he was not surprised that Master Dorian had fathered a child and that he might have a fewmore no one knew about. He was sworn to secrecy and promised faithfully not to breathe a word of it to anyone, least of all Dorian. Max made him sign a document so it was all official.
I was worried that Harry would want Dorian as his best man, but he said he hadn’t been in contact with him since we saw him in London. And neither had Maurice since he left his employ when Dorian had fully recovered from his accident.
‘He thanked me for my service but told me it was time to go,’ said Maurice during his audience with me. ‘And that I would get better pay if I “worked for the Fitzroys”. He also mentioned he wanted “a fresh start”. He was quite adamant about it, so there was nothing for me to do but leave him to his own devices.’
The man’s voice broke, and he looked racked with guilt.
‘You did everything you could for him and more, Maurice,’ I said gently. ‘I’m sure he was grateful.’
Whether he was or was not, who knew? But it was a relief to hear that Maurice wasn’t corresponding with Dorian or keeping tabs on him. That meant there was less chance of him letting something about Freddie slip or telling me something I didn’t want to hear.
***
The next day, I was up with the lark, dressed, and breakfasted, having had a ‘feeling’ that Harriet and her party would arrive early; and I wanted to be part of the welcoming committee.
I sometimes got these strong ‘feelings’ about things, like in London, when I ‘knew’ that Lucinda was about to give birth. Perhaps I was similar to Mrs Busby in that respect, and it was why she had frightened me when she had caught hold of my wrists and prophesied the way she had.
Holding on to someone’s hand had never thrown me into a trance. But what if it did one day?
As much as I did not want to believe what she had said about having ‘a choice to make’, she had been right about Max planting roses. So now I reluctantly found myself believing every word of her prophecy. When would it happen, though? If only she had told me the year or the name of a month at least, I could have done some mental preparation about which path to choose and avoid certain death.
Snow had started falling again when, from the parlour window, I spied a distant carriage turning into the drive and proceeding at a steady clip towards the house. All thoughts of doom and gloom fled—Harriet was here!
Summoning Bertram, I shrugged on my warm pelisse andran outside. In no time, they were pulling up, and the lacquered carriage stopped with a crunch and a jolt.
There was a moment of stillness, as if the occupants were collecting their belongings or finishing a conversation. Then the carriage door sprung open, and everyone spilled out, smiling and chattering.
I held out my arms to Harriet, tears pooling in my eyes.
‘Dearest,’ my sister murmured, embracing me tightly. I could not speak for emotion. This was only the second time they had visited since Max and I had married. The first time was to meet Freddie as a newborn. Now he was nearly 1. Oh, I wished Harriet lived closer! Perhaps I should ask Max to speak to Evan about leasing a house in Derbyshire (for Freddie’s sake, of course, so he had Evie as a playmate).
Evan picked up his daughter, who had been running around, trying to catch snowflakes.
‘Say hello to Aunty Fliss and give her a kiss.’
‘Hello, Aunty Fwissh,’ Evie said obediently with an adorable lisp. She was a dainty, delicate child of 3. I hoped that she and the more boisterous Freddie, who liked to engage in rough and tumble, would get along. They were the two youngest of our combined families.
Elizabeth and Edward Austen had little ones too, and they had all been invited. But as Elizabeth had just given birth to another child, she was not well enough to travel.But she had written to Lucinda conveying her best wishes for the happy occasion and invited her and Harry to visit Godmersham when the weather was warmer. Whether they would go remained to be seen. For Lucinda, who had been hidden away (and given birth) in the cottage there, it might bring back memories she would rather forget.
‘How was your journey?’ I asked Evan, accepting Evie’s polite peck. She was wearing a cute red woollen travelling cloak, and I brushed the light dusting of snow off her shoulders. ‘Please tell me you were not travelling through the night to arrive so early?’
He laughed. ‘No, we have been staying with an uncle of mine in Chesterfield. He is but ten miles away.’
‘Oh, that was convenient.’ Evan always seemed to have a ready supply of relations scattered around the country to visit.
‘Yes, I thought so. Anyway, we packed up at dawn, not wanting to outstay our welcome, and drove over, hoping for a spot of breakfast.’ He glanced up at the curtained windows. ‘Is Max awake?’
‘Yes, he should be. Quickly, come inside and get warm. It’s freezing out here,’ I said, seeing Harriet shivering. Snow was falling thick and fast, and melting droplets of icy water had begunto slide down my neck.
There were introductions to be made, a second breakfast to be consumed, and rooms to be settled into, along with last-minute wedding preparations. So I was busy until luncheon and almost forgot that I was due for a fitting with my dressmaker in the early afternoon.
Annie had been creating not only my ball gown but also Lucinda’s wedding dress. Seraphina had tried to take charge of that by hiring a seamstress in York, but Lucinda had stood her ground and said that she wanted her wedding gown to look ‘fashionable, not frumpy’. So Seraphina had backed down and agreed that she could use my dressmaker.
I was proud of the way that Lucinda was winning parental battles, both openly and covertly. Her strength of character was starting to shine through. My niece had matured from a shy, quiet, bookish girl to one with determined thoughts and opinions on a range of subjects. Then again, she had been through a lot in the past year and had had to grow up fast.
At 27, Harry was nearly ten years older than Lucinda and more worldly-wise. But he had a kind, patient, steady presence that calmed her emotional fire. He was also not easily cajoled. I thought that they were very well matched indeed.
As Freddie’s ‘Aunt Lucy’, she had initially journeyed to Derbyshire once a month to visit him. But her stays hadbecome more infrequent; and of late, she had not been here since October, though she had been invited three times. She had cited ‘too busy with wedding preparations’ or ‘going on a trip to London with Mama to visit Harry’ or ‘too much Christmas madness in York’ as the reasons for not being able to come. But I felt she was trying to sever her attachment to us or, more specifically, to Freddie.
