Scandal at the Dower House (17 page)

There was nothing she could do. She had briefly considered asking Jeremy not to tell Nicholas, but that would involve him in her own deception and she could not do that.

It would be at least afternoon on the following day before Nicholas returned and, if the wagon had not been able to reach Bristol in one day, it could be even later. Catarina wondered what Matthew would do. Did he intend to make another attempt to take Maria? Why did he want her? If he claimed the marriage between himself and Joanna was legal, he could control her fortune. He did not need the child; surely she would only be a nuisance?

The reason came to her in the middle of the night. Afraid
Matthew might attempt to snatch the little girl during the hours of darkness, she had a truckle bed made up for herself in the nursery. Staines said the three men would take it in turns to patrol inside the house, so they had taken what precautions they could. Catarina still could not sleep. She was worried for Maria, the truckle bed was uncomfortable and Clarice snored.

Matthew, she suddenly realized, sitting up in bed as she woke from an uneasy doze, no doubt wanted the child as a hostage. He would promise not to harm her if she and Joanna did not attempt to claim Joanna’s fortune. She had no illusions about her cousin. He would harm the child if it suited him, in revenge if nothing else.

Jeremy, Staines told her the following day when,
heavy-eyed
, she was trying to force some breakfast down her constricted throat, meant to stay in bed for at least the morning.

‘He found yesterday a strain.’

‘But without him we might have lost Maria.’

‘Don’t fret, my lady. His lordship will be back tonight and we’re all on our guard.’

She could not help worrying, not just about the danger to Maria, but also that soon Nicholas would know all about the lies she had told. She was in no state to deal with the Reverend Eade when he called in the middle of the morning.

He wore his most solemn expression when Staines showed him into the drawing room, the one he put on when he
delivered
some ranting sermon complaining about the real or imagined sins of his congregation.

‘My lady,’ he said formally, and refused her invitation to sit down. Instead he paced slowly around the room, coming to lean over her when he thought he had some telling point to make.

‘I am here to perform a most unwelcome task,’ he said. ‘My wife is very hurt at the unseemly manner in which you treated
her and her advice the day before yesterday. She is much older than you and, although I hesitate to describe us as worldly, she has been about in the world much more than you have. She is concerned for your reputation.’

‘I think I can be trusted to look to my reputation,’ Catarina said, furious at being treated to such a scolding as though she were a child. ‘Neither she nor you have any authority over me, or any responsibility for me, so I will thank both of you to keep your— to refrain from interfering in my affairs.’

‘You are impertinent, speaking to a man of the cloth in such an intemperate manner. But I understand what a strain you have been under since your dear husband died. It is my duty to forgive you.’

Catarina gritted her teeth and stood, the better to face him.

‘I neither need nor want your forgiveness.’

He strode towards her and, despite herself, she backed away a couple of paces. Tall and broad, his hands held out in front of him, he was a formidable figure. She was afraid for one dreadful moment that he was about to seize her and, at the very least, shake her.

‘That is not the only problem I have come here to resolve. I was visited yesterday by your uncle, Sir Ivor Norton, and his son. They tell me the child you have here is the son’s daughter and you are trying to deprive her father of his rights. His wife, your sister, has apparently deserted him and run away with a rich Portuguese merchant.’

‘The marriage they claim between my sister and my cousin was a fake! He deceived her; a friend played the part of a parson to make her think she was truly married. Then he deserted her. When she informed him she was expecting his child he repudiated her, and said he was about to marry a girl he had met in Brussels, just before the battle. I have no notion what happened to her, but I suspect she discovered what a scoundrel he was.’

‘That, my dear lady, is only what your sister has told you. If
she wanted to desert her child and become this other man’s concubine, she must have thought it a likely story. I am ashamed to think you believed it.’

‘You seem determined to disbelieve me, sir. I will not listen to your bigoted, uncharitable, unchristian remarks any longer, or your slandering of my sister. Please leave my house,
immediately
.’

‘Oh no, you cannot dismiss me so easily. I have come to take the child away to her true parent.’

‘What? You can’t do that! What right do you have to kidnap a baby?’

‘Kidnap! How dare you accuse me of that!’

She really thought he was about to strike her.

‘Yes, kidnap! You have no proof of what Matthew says, yet you believe him and not me. Have you seen the marriage certificate of this supposed legal marriage? Have you
questioned
the witnesses, asked who the clergyman was who conducted the ceremony, seen proof of his power to do so? How can you prove the child I have here is my sister’s baby?’

‘Sir Ivor is a respected gentleman, and his son has served his country in the army. I tend to believe such people.’

‘My uncle is a harsh disciplinarian and as bigoted as you are proving to be, Mr Eade. Now, please do as I ask and leave my house before I have to ask the servants to throw you out.’

‘Very well. I will not give you the heathen satisfaction of seeing a man of the cloth mishandled, but I will return with the magistrate and the constable. You will not presume to defy the law, I hope.’

Catarina stared in dismay. The only local Justice now was Sir Humphrey Unwin, and he would have no sympathy for her since she rejected his offer so decisively.

He swept out of the room. Catarina flew up the stairs to check that Maria was safe. She had a horrid feeling he might have been keeping her occupied while Matthew sneaked in and stole the baby.

When she saw Maria playing contentedly with a rag doll Clarice had sewn for her, she collapsed into a chair. Nicholas, she thought, come home, quickly. I need you!

Chapter Sixteen

C
ATARINA ALMOST WEPT
with relief when Nicholas arrived as she and Jeremy were sitting down to nuncheon. Saying he was exceptionally hungry, since he had started back from Bristol early and it was a very cold day, he joined them. Jeremy declared that after a long sleep he was feeling better than ever, and began to tell Nicholas of the visitors they had endured.

‘This man Matthew claimed little Maria was his, and that he was married to Joanna,’ he reported, and then glanced at Catarina in remorse. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, should I?’

‘I think I had guessed the truth,’ Nicholas said gently. ‘Maria is so like you, my dear, but you and your sister are also very alike. She’s Joanna’s child, isn’t she? Do you fear they will return?’

She nodded, accepting his statement, and explained how she believed Matthew intended to use Maria.

‘Then the first thing to do is move everyone to the Grange. There are more people there, young, strong footmen and grooms, and we can repel invaders. I will send for carriages if you, Catarina, will tell your servants to pack what you will all need for a few days.’

‘All of them?’ Jeremy asked. ‘Even the cook and the gardeners?’

‘We don’t want to leave anyone at the mercy of the Reverend Eade’s tirades, do we? And you have plenty of room.’

‘Yes, of course, but then the Dower House will be empty.’

‘And no one can be bullied.’

Within the hour it had been accomplished, and Catarina, bemused but thankful, was settling Clarice and Maria in the nursery suite of rooms on the top floor of her former home.

When she sought out Nicholas to thank him she found him in the estate office writing letters and sending grooms riding off with them. He looked up and smiled at her. Her heart turned over with love for him.

‘I’ve just one more letter to write. I’ll come to the library when it’s done.’

She went and sat before a roaring fire, all her anxieties set at rest, and feeling more at peace than she had done since Walter’s death. The time for lies was over and she could relax. When Nicholas came in he pulled up a footstool and sat beside her, taking her hands in his and kissing them.

‘We’ll beat them,’ he said. ‘The tale Jeremy spun was a little confused. Tell me all about it.’

Hesitantly she began, telling him how Joanna, in deep distress, had come to her for help when Matthew deserted her, how they had spent the time in Lisbon until she was delivered, and how Joanna had met and fallen in love with Eduardo.

‘She said all along she did not wish to keep the baby, and once Maria was born she rejected her. I could not bear to give her away, so I decided to keep her. Joanna didn’t care,’ she added bitterly.

‘This so-called marriage,’ he said slowly. ‘Did Joanna tell you where it took place?’

‘Matthew took her to a small church a few miles south of Bristol. They didn’t have time to go far. She was foolish to believe it was a legal ceremony when they had to use the church at night, and secretly, but my sister has always been a romantic little fool!’

He suddenly stood up.

‘My love, we must settle this as soon as possible. I will invite Sir Humphrey and your cousin here, the Reverend Eade as well, and we will examine the facts. Now forgive me, I have some more letters to write.’

Catarina did not at all relish the thought of facing her cousin and the rector again, and Sir Humphrey was no longer an indulgent elderly man who wished to marry her. He would be resentful and she feared he might take this opportunity to try to humiliate her. She breathed deeply and told herself she had to endure whatever they said. Words could not damage her, but she was confident Nicholas would not permit them to take Maria away, and that was all that mattered.

The Reverend Eade called later that day, but Catarina did not see him. She had been in the nursery, helping Clarice unpack all the ancient toys that were stored there, which had been the playthings of earlier generations of Walter’s family.

Maria did not know which toy to look at first, so they ended up with the floor of the day nursery littered with all manner of things, dolls, chapbooks, balls and even the furniture of a doll’s house.

Blodwen had packed some of Catarina’s new dresses, so when she changed for dinner she chose the most flattering, one in a soft green with short puffed sleeves and an overdress of silver gauze. It was, perhaps, too elaborate for a simple dinner at home, but it suited her to perfection, and she could wear with it a string of emeralds set in a filigree gold necklace. From the admiring looks both Nicholas and Jeremy gave her she was satisfied she looked better than they had ever seen her.

At dinner Nicholas announced he had arranged for the meeting to be held in two days’ time.

‘How will you convince them?’ Jeremy asked.

‘Don’t worry, they will be convinced,’ he said, but refused to
say more. ‘Jeremy, what do you propose to do about the villagers?’

Jeremy frowned. ‘I will have to permit them to go on as they always have, until the stubborn ones see the benefits of what I am doing and decide they will agree to changes. But they will all have a hard time this winter. I don’t know how much I will be able to help.’

‘I will supply whatever money you need, and help in finding food. But there is another matter which needs urgent
attention
. Do you wish to have the Eades remain as your neighbours? Would you not prefer to choose a man more congenial for your rector?’

‘Yes, but how can I? I suppose Walter gave him the living?’ he added, turning to Catarina.

‘Yes, he did; on the recommendation of some old university friend, a tutor at Oxford.’

‘Where does he come from, do you know?’ Nicholas asked.

‘I believe his childhood home was near Norwich.’

‘Excellent. I have contacts there. I will make enquiries about possible livings, or even a position in the cathedral hierarchy. I am sure he will prefer to go back there, especially when he understands he will not be invited to dine at Marshington Grange in future. You don’t wish for his company, do you?’ he asked Jeremy.

Jeremy laughed. ‘Nick, you are indeed a devil after your namesake! I certainly do not wish to have to be polite to him, and I certainly don’t wish to listen to his tedious sermons.’

‘Then I suggest you begin to think whether any of your old cronies took orders. Or there is the curate at home – perhaps he is ready for a parish. But don’t make your choice too quickly. You’ll have to live with the man for years.’

After dinner, Nicholas retired to the estate office with Jeremy, saying there were matters to be decided, as he must soon be going home to Brooke Court.

Catarina, feeling somewhat flat after the excitement of the
past few days, and a little hurt Nicholas did not seem to wish to spend any time with her, soon went to bed. What did he intend for her? Did he still want to marry her, now he knew about all the lies she had told him? What would happen when Matthew and he came face to face? Could Nicholas really convince them of the truth about the sham marriage? Was Maria safe?

Catarina saw the Reverend and Mrs Eade arriving and retreated to the drawing room, while Jeremy’s butler showed them into the dining room, where Nicholas had decreed the meeting was to take place. As far as she knew Mrs Eade had not been invited, but it was typical of the woman to insist on coming.

Soon afterwards Sir Ivor and Matthew arrived, Matthew driving a new, yellow-painted curricle drawn by two fractious Welsh cobs. They were so fresh she knew her uncle must have stayed the night at some nearby inn. Then Sir Humphrey appeared, driving a very staid gig. With him was the village constable, looking, Catarina thought, decidedly uneasy. She felt sorry for the poor man, being asked to take action against her if Sir Ivor and Matthew could convince him they had a right to remove Maria from her care.

Nicholas, for reasons he did not explain, had sent the carriage to the village. When it returned it drove straight round to the stables.

Jeremy then appeared, limping slightly and with his broken arm still in a splint.

‘What’s old Nick up to?’ he demanded. ‘I know my brother when he takes it into his head to play a lone hand, but I’d like to know what he expects of us. I don’t want to say anything out of turn.’

‘I don’t expect he’ll permit that. We’ll soon know what is going to happen, no doubt,’ Catarina said, trying to calm him, but feeling anything but calm herself. ‘Just don’t talk unless it’s to answer your brother’s questions.’

Her stomach was churning with anxiety. Would Nicholas be able to convince Matthew he had no right to take Maria away? If he failed, she would be utterly devastated. She had come to love the child as if she were her own, and could not face the prospect of losing her. Nor did she dare contemplate the sort of life Maria would have if she were left at the mercy of Matthew and his father.

Nicholas appeared before her thoughts could get out of control. He was dressed with great formality, in buff pantaloons, a dark blue, perfectly fitting coat, a white waistcoat with white embroidery, and a cravat tied in what Catarina thought was the Osbaldson.

‘Are you ready?’ he asked, and Catarina, unable to speak, nodded and rose to her feet.

He smiled comfortingly, put his arm about her shoulders and hugged her then led her through the hall into the dining room opposite. He ushered her to a chair next to the one he took at the head of the table and gestured to Jeremy to sit the other side of her. Was he surrounding her, protecting her, Catarina wondered a little hysterically? She looked round at the others, clustered at the other end of the table. Staines was standing just inside the doorway, so immobile she soon forgot he was there.

Matthew gave her a triumphant smile.

‘I think we’ll soon convince his lordship and the authorities, in the persons of Sir Humphrey and the constable, that I have a just case,’ he said.

Nicholas rapped on the table.

‘My lady,’ he said, turning to Catarina, ‘it is the child you brought home from Lisbon we are concerned about. Can you tell us about Maria’s birth, when, where and to whom?’

Catarina took a deep breath. When she spoke she was thankful her voice did not tremble.

‘My sister Joanna gave birth on the fifteenth of November last year, in Lisbon. She had previously told me Matthew, our cousin, was the father.’

‘Thank you. And you adopted the child, brought her to England?’

Thank goodness he was not dwelling on Joanna’s rejection of the baby.

‘Yes. Joanna had met and was marrying a Brazilian who was about to return to Brazil.’

‘A very long journey for a young baby,’ he commented, and Catarina admired how he managed to suggest an acceptable reason for Maria’s being left behind.

‘So the child’s birth and parentage are established. Were her parents lawfully married?’

‘Of course we were,’ Matthew interrupted.

Nicholas looked at him, his eyebrows raised. Catarina
shivered
. She had never seen him with so arrogant an expression on his face.

‘That is the important point, is it not? Where did the
ceremony
take place and when?’

‘In March last year. Just after Catarina’s husband died. At the church of St John outside Bristol.’

‘At night, Joanna told Catarina.’

‘Joanna preferred it that way. She wanted to keep it a secret.’

No she didn’t, you did, you despicable toad, Catarina thought.

‘And it did not take place, I assume, by banns, since she was not married from the home where she was living. What sort of licence did you obtain?’

Matthew sighed impatiently. ‘What does all this rigmarole matter? I had a licence.’

Nicholas ignored the question.

‘From whom did you obtain it?’

‘The bishop, of course.’

‘And did you reside in the parish of St John before the marriage?’

‘Why should I have?’

‘Joanna did not, either. A common licence can be used only if one party has resided in the parish for four weeks. Also, people under age need proof of the consent of parents or guardians. Joanna was only eighteen, a minor.’

‘She had my consent,’ Sir Ivor interrupted.

Catarina thought he was beginning to look worried. She glanced at the Eades and saw a look of puzzlement on the rector’s face. Mrs Eade was tugging at his sleeve, but he paid her no attention.

‘Mr Norton, you claim your licence was a common one. But marriages celebrated with such must take place where one party has lived for four weeks, and can only be celebrated between the hours of eight in the morning and noon. Yours did not.’

‘Well, it must have been the other sort, then. I forget. Is this important? We were married.’

‘You both signed the parish register at the time I assume, together with your witnesses.’

‘Of course.’

Nicholas looked across at Staines, who slipped from the room. Then he turned to Catarina.

‘You have the letter your cousin sent Joanna, repudiating the marriage?’

Catarina took it from her reticule and handed it to him. He read it out slowly.