The Heiress

The Heiress

J. Howard Shelley

Published by John Howard Shelley at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 John Howard Shelley

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THE HEIRESS

Chapter 1.

Sir Thomas Waldron viewed the breakfast which his man had just that minute placed before him and his guests, with a jaundiced eye. It was not that the food was badly cooked or that the highly paid artist in the kitchen had not fully justified the exorbitant salary which his employer paid him. It was more to do with the quantity of spirituous beverages which he had consumed the night before. He was not alone; not one of the four other gentlemen seated around the table could be said to be applying themselves with any enthusiasm to the tempting delights laid out before them. Captain Lord St. John was restricting himself to drinking large amounts of black coffee although it could not be said that he evidenced any pleasure in doing so. Indeed, except that the unpleasant green tinge which had, until ten minutes ago, adorned his handsome countenance had now been replaced by a mere unhealthy pallor, a dispassionate observer might have ventured that he viewed the prospect of breaking his fast with something approaching abject horror.

George, Earl of Cunliffe, was bravely attempting to force a morsel of toast down his reluctant throat although the effort seemed to be productive of nothing more than to make his stomach heave; each heave being accompanied by a loud groan.

At that moment, the dining room door caught a slight draft and slammed loudly behind Sir Thomas’ butler. Viscount Tinhope, winced and demanded his host fire the man for outright cruelty and his companion, the (usually) reckless and dashing Mr Garret Daneleigh offered, once he had removed the spiked ball from his brain to run the elderly retainer through.

Each of these young men had spent the previous evening at the Nonesuch club, gaming for huge sums of money, recklessly drinking far more than was good for them and forgetting, for the hundredth time, that they would pay for it the following morning.

Burn it, observed Sir Thomas who, of the five of them, was reckoned to have the hardest head, m’sister’s right. I can’t take it anymore. I only had a bottle of brandy all night."

And, St John added, not without a trace of irony two large clarets, half a bottle of port and two tankards of ale, all before we went out.

I meant proper drinks, St John’s comment was dismissed with a wave. I drove against Sir John Lade after a much worse night than that.

And drove yourself, a brand-new curricle and your groom into a ditch!

Sir Thomas was about to robustly defend his skills with the ribbons when his front door bell was so vigorously rung that all five gentlemen clutched their heads in pain, any further thought of argument driven from their minds. Not thirty seconds later a young man strolled energetically into the room and, greeting his friends with a cheery good morning, threw his hat onto a chair.

Although, the visitor continued with what his companions considered to be a distinct lack of the sympathy to be expected of a young man who ought properly to appreciate the suffering of his fellows, It is nearly good afternoon as it wants but ten minutes before midday.

Dammit Nick, growled Daneleigh, If you aren’t in the same sorry state as your friends, you might at least have the good manners to keep your voice down.

What again! Lord Burley looked over his friends with an experienced eye. When will you all learn that if you want to enjoy your breakfast in the morning, you should exercise a little discretion on the previous evening?

I was saying something similar before your noisy entrance, remarked Sir Thomas sourly, but as none of us seem to be in any state to contemplate food, perhaps you may do justice to it.

I breakfasted at home over three hours ago, but I will partake of a little nuncheon.

Daneleigh shuddered at the thought of rising so early, but nonetheless watched, fascinated, as Burley applied himself with enthusiasm to the task of demolishing a substantial portion of the food arrayed on Sir Thomas’ table.

My dear boy, he remarked glumly, as yet another slice of bacon disappeared inside his friend. How you contrive to be awake early enough to eat two meals before one o’clock and ride twenty miles between them is entirely beyond me, but I wish you would not so enthusiastically wave your comestibles under my nose.

Is your head very bad? Burley enquired with a total absence of sympathy, You would feel a great deal better in the mornings if you drank less the evening before.

Most unfortunately, Nick, Cunliffe roused himself sufficiently to respond, we do not have your stern character. Once we have consumed four or five brandies it seems but a small step to polish off the bottle.

It is not, I regret to say, moral fibre which drives me, it is poverty. I cannot afford to lose an hundred pounds in play or, much as I might on occasion, like to do so, consume the vast quantities of Brandy that passes your lips on a regular basis.

Hogwash, interjected Tinhope rousing himself for a moment, I have seen your house, it is a grand old pile with a fair estate."

It is, agreed Burley, cheerfully wiping his mouth having completed his deprecations of the food in front of him, but it is also mortgaged to the hilt as a result of my father’s excesses and it contains mama and my eight sisters.

Affected by their experiences the night before they might be, but Burley’s friends knew perfectly well how he was situated. The friendship between the six men, first formed at Harrow, had survived everything that life could throw at it. St John had disappeared into the army for five years and had returned thinner and greyer, and totally lacking the joy of the young officer who had joined up. His friends had rallied round and with their support the haunted look had gone to be replaced with the broad smile they remembered. Sir Thomas had fallen in love in his twentieth year and the friends had all gone to his wedding. A year later they had attended the funeral of his bride who had died in childbirth along with his infant son. Daneleigh, the most intrepid of riders to hounds, had taken a toss and his doctors despaired of him ever walking, but spurred on and encouraged by his friends, only a slight limp was now evident.

Nicholas Burley had been the practical joker. The gayest of them all, even the ladies said that he brightened up a room just by walking into it. Yet it seemed upon the death of his father that the light had been extinguished; not because he missed his sire, truth to tell they hardly knew each other, but because not a day had passed after he had seen his father properly interred but that worthy's lawyer, man of business and steward all came to see him and had left him in no doubt just how parlous a state his father’s affairs stood. The estate was entailed but every square foot of land was mortgaged to the hilt and there was no money left invested in the consols. Worse still, the lately deceased Lord Burley had stood as trustee for his wife and daughters and he had broken the trust. His widow and younger children were left with nothing.

To the surprise of everyone except his closest friends, the new Lord Burley showed a hitherto unsuspected steadiness of character and, without a backward glance, shouldered the yoke of responsibility. He disposed of every single asset that he could, starting with almost every personal item his father had owned. Within a week, all his father's clothing, his jewellery, a staggering number of fobs, seals snuff boxes and canes and a large collection of Chinese porcelain had been consigned to the auctioneer's hammer. This was just the beginning; next to go was the whole stable. The late Lord's hunters, the four matched chestnuts and the bay pair were sold at an astronomical price to one of the deceased former friends and the carriages they had drawn went the same way. The only occupants of the stable were now an elderly hack, a sturdy cob used to pull the gig and a placid heavy horse to draw the farm cart.

Nick resigned his membership of all his clubs and dismissed his man together with all the grooms, his bailiff, steward, the gamekeepers and all the gardeners. Not yet satisfied, he then sold his own jewellery, his wardrobe of formal and evening clothes and most of the library together with the contents of most of the rooms in his house. The wines and spirits in the cellar went, as did all of the family paintings, the ornaments and knick-knacks right down to the rugs and carpets from the floor. They were all sent to auction and when he had finished most of the house was stripped bare and closed. The family now lived in as few rooms as possible with the absolute minimum of furnishings to support them.

These brutal measures raised enough money to pay off the accumulated arrears on the mortgages and give the lenders some comfort that he would maintain the payments in future and there was sufficient left over to settle the most pressing of the remaining debt. This thrift secured a letter of support from his bankers. He then visited every single creditor and explained his situation. Somewhat to their surprise they saw that the son was of a different cut to the father. Presented with the letter of support, to a man, they confirmed that providing no further credit was sought they would continue to extend credit on the basis of the young man’s word.

Nick’s father had married twice although neither union could have been said to have been entirely successful. Nick’s mother, the first Lady Burley had been the only daughter of one Viscount Hardinge - an obscure peer from the north. Soon after the marriage Nick’s father spectacularly quarrelled with his brother in law and, as Lady Burley made her allegiance to her husband plain, from that point on there had been no contact between the two families. The couple were, by all accounts, very happy and the birth of a son had served to further settle the volatile Lord Burley. Unfortunately, soon after Nick’s third birthday, Nick’s mother, a clipping rider to hounds, fell from her horse into a ditch, the chill she suffered developed into pneumonia and, despite the best efforts of her doctors, she passed away less than a week later.

Lord Burley was inconsolable and for a time behaved in a manner which led the majority of his acquaintance to prophesy he would soon follow his lady onward, but then, three years later and having given his acquaintance no apprehension that he might be about to remarry, he returned to Burley in the company of his second wife. He was blunt as to his motivation for remarrying; he could not, would not, leave his son without a mother. Having installed his bride at Burley he then returned to town leaving her in charge of his house and his son, only thereafter returning home out of duty for a few weeks each winter. There was no child in the first year but after that, every autumn for the next eight years his second wife produced him a daughter. The oldest, Emily, was now nearly eighteen.

Nick was fiercely loyal to the lady who had stood as mother from soon after his sixth birthday and had no interest in seeking out his natural mother’s relations. Moreover, he had never approved of his father’s attitude and, although she never complained, he thought his stepmother had been very poorly treated. When, upon shouldering his father’s title and responsibilities, he discovered the extent of the Late Lord Burley’s profligacy, he swore that no matter how long it took, he would make matters right by his step mother and half-sisters. That determination had lessened not one jot in the five years since his father’s death.

In their turn, all the Misses Burley adored their elder brother who never had so much to do that he could not spend some time with them to assist them with their lessons or encourage them in whatever it was they were doing. Upon discovering the extent of Nick’s financial problems and without the least demur, they all gave up any thought of a London season and asked how they could help.

Emily was not precisely beautiful although no one would have called her plain, but she had a stern sense of duty and an implacable sense of purpose. She was also intensely practical and extremely organised. Nick thought that it was a shame she would never have a season because, of all his sisters, she was the most suited to the management of a large household. Emily would have made a superb housewife.

The Burley ladies made all their own clothes and Betsy had become so adept at trimming a hat and Olivia at setting a sleeve that they now were able to earn a little money from selling their work and skills to local ladies. Only Mama had a maid and although Mrs Harris, the housekeeper, had refused point blank to leave the family she had served since she first went into service at the age of twelve, apart from one scullery maid there were no other servants. Burley Manor was therefore run at a fraction of the cost of most houses of an equivalent size. In addition to being an excellent housewife, Mama was very accomplished and made sure her daughters learned those things that a lady needed to know. On Mondays only French was spoken in the household and on Wednesdays it was Italian. The girls either sang or took turns to visit the rectory to practice upon Mrs Enderby’s pianoforte which the rector insisted was always at their disposal.

T’would be a shame if such a fine instrument stood here gathering dust when I take so much pleasure in hearing it played, Mr Enderby remarked whenever one of the ladies ventured to thank him for the use of it.

Georgette and Betsy were very good with their sketch books although Mama thought Georgette, the younger, had the edge. Sarah had an instinctive feel for embroidery, Jane was bookish and could be depended upon to have read something upon nearly every subject. An ardent soul with a deep compassion, Mama thought she would end up the wife of a priest or a missionary. Ruth was like her elder brother; she was never seen with a frown on her face and could be depended upon to brighten even the gloomiest of rooms just by walking into it.

Harriet, the baby of the family, held a special place in everyone’s heart. Born with a twisted foot she walked with a pronounced limp although walking was something she was rarely observed to do. She ran nearly everywhere with a curious but distinctive gait, her deformed foot hardly slowing her at all. The only thing that ever made her angry was pity, or if someone made an allowance for her. She was absolutely determined that she could and would do everything that any of her other sisters did. She worked twice as hard as had any of her older siblings at her age. Many were the times Nick had to firmly carry her, exhausted, off to bed protesting that there was still something she had yet to do.

Nick was inordinately proud of his sisters and celebrated every one of their achievements. The few male visitors to Burley Manor (until they happened to open a door into one of the empty rooms) found it hard to reconcile Nick’s protestations of poverty with the tasteful decoration and undoubted good taste they found there. They did not notice that most of the house was shut off and bare of any furnishings, carpets or curtains. Thanks to their skills the ladies were always well dressed and generally à là mode although not in the most expensive of fabrics. Silks and satins would always be beyond them. Their food was varied and well-cooked as the ladies had taught themselves the rudiments of gardening and although the large kitchen garden was not yet fully cultivated each year they dug over a little more. The year Emily turned seventeen they even had a little extra left over to take to market.

Nick regretted that society would never have the opportunity of appreciating his sisters’ abilities. He had little doubt that most of them would remain spinsters as the number of well-bred men in the area was small and while no-one could complain about their breeding few would accept a penniless bride. He had made it plain the choice was theirs but none of them were to consider themselves under a duty to marry simply to restore the family fortunes.

After her seventeenth birthday, a significant event in any young lady’s life, Emily suggested to Nick that she should secure a post as governess. It would, she said, reduce the family expenses and she could send her wages home. She was, as she said with absolute truth, more than qualified for such a role.

I may not be able to provide you with a season or a dowry, Nick replied firmly, but you do not need to do that. Not only do I object strongly to your being employed in such a capacity but you save much more money by being here and helping Mama and our sisters with the house and the other tasks that need to be done than you could ever earn as a governess. Nick explained to his protesting sister that he had met a few governesses in some of the houses he had visited when he was younger. Of good birth, they were never trusted by their employer, especially if there were sons in the house and they were loathed by the other servants because of their superior breeding. You may not be rich my dear, he went on, but you are a Lady, and you will stay here where you are treated as one. One day, he added cheerfully I shall come about and things will improve for us all.

But what happens when you marry? Emily had asked, your wife will not want her step Mama-in-Law and eight half-sisters in the house.

If she does not, retorted Nick bluntly, then she is no wife for me. My sisters are part of my family and I will not drive them out merely to accommodate my wife. In any case, he observed with a grin, who would want to take me on? I have no money and I cannot afford to keep a wife in the standard which any lady might reasonably expect from her husband.

Privately Emily thought that, even allowing for her prodigious partiality, no female fortunate enough to engage her brother’s affections would have cause for complaint. Not only was he inordinately handsome, not only was he extremely popular with children and not only did he feel on every subject just as he ought, but he was considerate to a fault, had the most winning smile and made every single female who came within his circle feel really special without even trying. Mrs Lennon, the very proper wife of the parish priest, their formidable and irascible neighbour Miss Clisby, even Miss Unscott, Mama’s formidable and very intimidating maid, all unbent miraculously before Nick’s smile.

Except for the most basic of necessities the only money Nick spent was with the object of reversing the years of neglect. His efforts, five years after his father’s death were, at last, starting to show some results, farm output was increasing and with every creditor he paid, a little more money was released to pay the remainder. He had even been told by his banker, that, should he wish to raise a loan in a modest and reasonable amount for a specific purpose he could expect a favourable response. Privately, Drummond had remarked to his son that if young Lord Burley did not drag his family out of debt within ten years he would be very much surprised.

Nicholas Burley has a keen view of the value of money and a harder head for business than anyone else I have yet seen from his set. If we can put some opportunities his way, my son, then we shall do so. He is a good investment.

For himself Nick was well pleased with the progress he was making in repairing his finances. He was not yet out of debt and while it was probably too late for Emily and Betsy, by exercising the strictest economy he thought within a few years he might be able to give his younger sisters something if they were lucky enough to contract suitable marriages. By the time Ruth and Harriett reached the age of seventeen (if they took lodgings in an unfashionable quarter) he might even be able to fund a season in London.

The young Lord Burley knew the guilt he felt was irrational but that did not help assuage it. He felt as much to blame for his family’s impoverishment as he blamed his father. There was a time when he had thought that he should perhaps marry an heiress, but in contrast to the majority of his peers who had no such scruples, he considered it was a little unfair on this hypothetical female that the price of her marriage would be the privilege of rescuing her husband’s family from debt. Then of course there was the difficulty that an heiress would be unlikely to settle for a mere baron. If she was of a mind to marry a title, His Grace the Duke of Salisbury was known to be hanging out for a rich wife.

Realistically, he thought it unlikely he would ever marry, his excuse to Emily, half said in jest, was a genuine objection but even if a female could be found who had no objection to sharing a house with her husband’s step mother and eight half-sisters, he could not see where he would ever meet such a female. He no longer went to the balls and routs where ladies of quality were to be found, the expense of evening dress was well beyond his means. His clothes were made by the clever hands of his sisters and, while he was always well dressed at dinner, his day clothes were functional and hardwearing and more suited to the manual labour that occupied most of his time rather than the elegant dress normally expected of the country gentleman.

Chapter 2.

The one luxury Nick allowed himself was, once in a while, to go up to London to meet his friends. Being unable to afford the expense of a hotel and insisting that staying with his friends would be nothing less than an imposition he did not stay overnight and upon these occasions, he therefore rode the fifteen or so miles from Burley.

On that particular day, the six young men were engaged to ride out to a mill due to take place near Richmond. Nick knew that, however distressed his friends looked now, their powers of recuperation were such that, within an hour they would all miraculously be recovered. So it was. Not a minute later than two o’clock the group of young men tumbled down the steps of Sir Thomas’, fine town house and clambered into the two open carriages awaiting their pleasure.

Nick’s friends were, more or less, permanently resident in London. Like many young men of their set and inclination they spent Christmas with their families and hunted the shires in the autumn but other than Sir Thomas, who became master of his own large estate following his father’s early death, and Nick, whose estate was within a couple of hours’ easy ride from the capital, the remainder were still able to boast the continued existence of both parents. They were thus able to avoid, if only for the time being, the burden of responsibility. They all knew that one day they would have to settle down, marry and assume the yoke which came with being the oldest son but, for the moment, they were able to pursue the lifestyle of their choice and turn a deaf ear to any paternal suggestions that they might employ their time more profitably.

It was early February, the days were longer and perceptibly warmer and it was noticeable that those members of the ton who were not habitually resident in the capital but who preferred the hustle and bustle of town life to the bucolic delights of the country estate, had started to trickle back to town. Soon that trickle would become a flood. Easter would be upon them at the end of March and with it the formal start of the London season. Except for Nick, who frankly admitted that he lived his life vicariously through his peers, the group of young men looked forward to the season with its balls, routs, assemblies and parties and the annual crop of new beauties who came with their mamas with the hope of contracting an eligible match.

Nick had found over the years that, while all his friends had a fair idea of the likely highlights of the coming season, it was always Daneleigh who had the firmest finger on the pulse of society. Although perhaps not the most well connected of the group (Sir Thomas carried that honour) he was at an advantage because the family was linked through various marriages to many of the most noble houses in England. Moreover, Daneleigh was very well liked and was received almost everywhere. He was an interesting dinner companion and, while his limp precluded dancing he was regularly seen at Almacks where the young ladies were often glad to sit out with a cheerful and attentive companion. He was also, as he was perfectly prepared to admit if asked, exceedingly nosy. If there was a choice bit of gossip; Daneleigh heard it accurately and first. He could see apparently unconnected events and join them together drawing uncannily precise conclusions.

The odd thing was that these skills, which even his own mother had thought of little practical use, were already serving him in good stead. Due to the offices of his father, he had secured employment in the Foreign Office. He was already a rising star and, somewhat to his surprise, he found the work rather enjoyable. The Marquis of Wellesly, at that time Foreign Secretary, had confidentially informed Lord Daneleigh that should he wish it, and once he had out grown his determination to break his neck in his racing curricle, his son had a great career ahead of him.

For now, the future diplomat and heir to an ancient title was content to sit in the winter sun enjoying the company of his friends and the prospect of an exciting mill.

So, Nick asked "what does the oracle say will be the event of this year’s season?

I don’t need to be an oracle to work that out. This is the year the heiress comes to town. Shall you make a play in that direction St John?

I gave it some thought, nodded St John, but I don’t need the money and I like being single. I already have two nephews and Jennie is in the family way again. M’brother will ensure the succession. As great as the temptation is, I doubt I’ll be entering the lists. He turned to Nick how about you?

As loath as I am to demonstrate to my friends quite how little I know of the world these days, Nick grinned to show that his exclusion from the first circles worried him not at all, who is this heiress and why is it of particular note that she comes to town this season? As I recall from my younger days there was always some new heiress or other every year.

My poor, poor man, grinned Daneleigh, not a trace of sympathy on his face, I keep forgetting that these days your knowledge of the polite world is restricted to the five miles around Pinner. This is the heiress. The heiress that everyone expected to see last year but didn’t appear. The heiress that polite society has been waiting for these past ten years or more. Seeing Nick’s uncomprehending expression, he sighed, the biggest matrimonial prize for fifteen years.

I had assumed, replied Nick in a tone of exaggerated patience, from the fact that you called her ‘the heiress’ that she might be rich, but who is she and why are you getting so excited over a few thousand a year. It is not as if you want for a shilling or two.

A…. a… Few thousand a year Daneleigh spluttered disbelievingly. This is Rhetford’s daughter we are talking about. Seeing that his friend still had no idea who she was he continued. My father is one of Rhetford’s trustees, the old man cocked up his toes more than fifteen years ago and he was as rich as Croesus. Seems there were no male heir and so she scoops the whole dashed pot. Since Rhetford died, a number of other wealthy relatives have gone the way of all flesh, all of them either childless or unmarried, and so the girl picked up their estates too. None of it has been spent. She has been brought up by a couple of her mother’s sisters, a pair of eccentrics by the names of Seraphina and Euphronia Yeatman. He saw Nick blink in surprise, I assure you I jest not. Their notion of enjoyment is to spend their time redecorating other people houses. But they are so well heeled that no-one will challenge them and they have no need to draw on the estate to provide for Miss Rhetford’s needs. With no expenditure drawn and a huge income to invest, the estate is now worth much more than it was even five years ago."

If your father has been safeguarding her fortune, Nick commented, the respect obvious on his face, I can readily believe the estate has grown. Who are her other trustees?

Drummond and Devonshire.

I recall something about it now, Nick whistled softly, Rhetford was that chap whose land happened to be sitting on top of one enormous coal mine and having made his money he made some very sound investments. He couldn’t have chosen better trustees. Your father and Devonshire know everything there is to know about estate management and Drummond knows money. What are the terms of the trust?

Thinking of throwing your hat in the ring Nick? Daneleigh asked his friend, wondering if at last he might be tempted out of his monkish rule for the season.

Hardly, Nick grinned wryly, I cannot think that a miserable pauper as I would catch the eye of such a creature. It was idle curiosity.

It’s a pretty odd arrangement. She is free to choose where her own fancy lies but all the trustees and the two aunts must agree to the match. Having secured the regard of the heiress our hypothetical suitor must persuade Devonshire of the suitability of his birth, Drummond will investigate the poor chap’s affairs to ensure he has good prospects, my father will have to confirm that he knows his way around an estate and the Aunts have to agree that he will make a good husband.

Good Lord St John exclaimed, Where do they expect to find such a paragon. Myself, I would have thought Salisbury would have stood a chance, but he has already gambled away one fortune and he is much less husband material than even I. And he is such an old bore. My sister Phoebe said she had spent two hours one evening being drunkenly lectured by him about the decay in the standards of the bookbinding profession. This revolution cast the three gentlemen into unseemly laughter as St John’s lively sister was well known to all of them although, in Nick’s case, by reputation alone. The idea that she would spend even ten minutes attending to the rather prosy and opinionated Duke of Salisbury was hard to imagine. Poor Phoebe! Mama had taken her to Salisbury’s house for dinner and she had the misfortune to be seated next to his Grace.

Happened to me once, cut in Daneleigh, I told father if he ever put me in that situation again patricide was a definite possibility. He told me that it been him or me and, if he had sat next to him, suicide would have been a certainty.

The friends spent the next half hour working through their acquaintance unable to find even one unattached male who could possibly meet with the approval of all the august persons whose task it was to sit in judgment on Miss Rhetford’s marital fate and concluded in the end that the heiress was inevitably destined to die a wealthy, if lonely, spinster.

I’ll wager a considerable sum she has an air of distinct superiority, a face like a horse, the intellect and conversation of a tree and the taste of a miner. St John observed. Remember that heiress who turned up three of four years ago? I forget her name...

Miss Hart! Daneleigh stated after a few seconds thought. Freckles! Insisted on wearing pink all the time. Temper of a shrew.

Aye, that was her. Even with all the money that would have come with the match, no-one could face a lifetime shackled to her and she disappeared after a couple of years.

According to m’father, Miss Rhetford is nothing like her. He described her as ‘quite presentable’ which from my father is a compliment of no mean order.

Lord! Nick breathed, A good looking heiress! Almacks will be an interesting place this season; I can just see the scramble to catch her. He paused before continuing thoughtfully, I actually feel quite sorry for her, she will never know if she is being courted for herself or her money. What happens if she marries against the will of the trustees or never marries at all?

The whole lot goes to some obscure cousin. Daneleigh explained. "Apparently Rhetford took the view that if she chose a life of spinsterhood over a marriage ordained by God then she wouldn't need the money,

How much is she actually worth? St John enquired. He was not prepared for the answer he received.

Only Drummond knows the full picture and he plays his cards close to his chest, but it can’t be a penny less than forty thousand pounds a year!

As Nick rode home that evening he wore a pensive expression. With only a thousand extra a year he could do so much, even five hundred would make a huge difference to his family finances but he could not imagine an income of forty thousand pounds. That was more money than he expected to see in the remainder of his life. He was not an envious man but he would have been less than human if he felt no twinge at the thought that some unknown gentleman would find himself considerably richer by the time the season was out.

The next week was very busy at Burley Manor. An unusually mild winter had allowed Nick to get out on his estates earlier than usual and he had put in hand some long overdue repairs and improvements. He was not above turning his hand to any task and, while he had not the skills of a mason or a carpenter, he was learning and he could help fetch the stone for a wall or bring in the timber to repair a gate. His tenants had become quite used to their landlord sliding off his horse and pitching in on almost any task and, although he did not know it, this simple act was paid back in spades. A labourer digging a drainage ditch was more inclined to bend his back to it if his master was there wielding the pick or shovel as well. The net result was that Nick’s land was improving far faster than might otherwise have been expected.

The Young Lord Burley was regarded as a good master and a fair landlord and, as he was never one to stand on ceremony, he was always welcome in the various homes around his estate. A farmer’s wife, informed by her husband that his Lordship would be joining them for dinner was put on her mettle. Their noble visitor would receive only the simple food his tenants ate but it would be wholesome, well cooked and hot, and there would be plenty of it. Nick had the knack of remembering how many children were in each household and what they were called, and he could be relied upon to ask how Nellie’s arm was after that bad break or how young Jack was doing in the navy.

Then too, there was a thriving school in the village run by the rector. Nick, in his position as Lord of the local manor had talked everyone in the parish who could read or write to teach a lesson or two. Leading by example, he always managed to fit in an hour or two a week and one or other of his sisters would be there every day. It was almost unheard of, but nearly every child on Nick’s estate could read a little and sign his own name, and there were even a few young men, although from very humble stock, who were looking as if they might go into the professions.

This commitment meant that those people who worked on Nick’s estate or lived in the small hamlets dotted around the area regarded themselves as very fortunate indeed. They had a committed and hardworking landlord who charged fair rents, dealt with their grievances promptly and fairly and provided opportunities for their children. Ned Smith, bent with age and a lifetime of hard work, who had never aspired to anything more than a general labourer was able to boast that his son who could both read and write had been taken on as under steward at a neighbouring estate. As the Steward had no children there was every possibility in a few years' time the young man would step into his senior's shoes.

A few days after watching the mill with his friends Nick was riding home from visiting one of his tenants who was throwing up a new barn. As was usual Nick had been in the thick of it and his clothes were thus rather dirty. He grimaced down at his mired coat; Mama would demand that he wash and change before dinner. His attention had been wandering as his mind turned over the hundred-and-one things that would need to be accomplished this summer but it was suddenly drawn to a large and somewhat top-heavy travelling chariot bowling along the road some distance in front of him.

Pinner was on the road from Amersham and such a sight was not unusual especially at this time of year, as the ton returned to London for the season. What had attracted Nick’s attention on this occasion was that this elegant equipage appeared to be having some difficulty in following the line of the road. Although well-travelled, the road was not wide and the carriage appeared to be negotiating the bends with some difficulty. Concerned, Nick urged his horse forward but before he could catch up the right-hand wheels mounted the verge on a wide bend and the chariot majestically toppled over, sliding roof first down a steep bank. It ended up lying nearly upside down in the ploughed field next to the road, its right-hand side against the bank and surrounded by the boxes and trunks which had, until a moment before, been strapped to it. Nick spurred his horse on and it was a matter of but a few seconds before he arrived.

Chapter 3

The scene which met his eyes would have been sufficient to daunt a lesser man. Four splendid horses were struggling madly to free themselves from the tangled traces but one of the wheelers would never walk anywhere again. He had a broken foreleg. Nick shouted to the occupant of the chariot who was clearly female and could be heard calling for help that he could do nothing until the horses were set free and he set to. It was the work of only a few seconds to cut the harness for three of the horses who immediately ran off to huddle under a hedge shivering with fear. Without a backward glance, but nevertheless with real regret, Nick drew his pistol, shouted a warning of his intention to the occupant of the carriage and shot the injured wheeler.

One door was resting on the bank and would not open until the vehicle was righted but the other was now facing skywards. Nick climbed up and wrenched it open.

Is anyone injured? Nick asked urgently peering into the gloom inside. With the light behind him he could only make out a few details. The inside of the Chariot was a mess. There were bandboxes and packages everywhere lying on top of what appeared to be an untidy pile of satin.

Oh, thank goodness, The muffled voice of a lady, scared, but determined not to give in to it, came out of the pile of material. Can you help us. There are two of us in here and I am afraid we are both hurt a little.

Can you stand up?

Not without help, I have hurt my ankle and my maid is lying on top of me. I think she has swooned because I cannot rouse her.

The lady’s assessment as to her maid’s condition was indeed borne out. Nick reached in and, having located her amongst the sea of debris, dragged the unconscious and limp body out of the carriage by the simple if rough and ready expedient of grasping the back of her gown and hauling. The cut above her left eye told its own story but the wound did not appear to be serious; a brief check confirmed she was breathing and had a strong pulse. He heaved a sigh of relief – the maid would soon recover. Unceremoniously heaving the maid across his shoulders and promising the remaining occupant faithfully he would be back within a few seconds he jumped down and laid the servant on the bank. He was just about to return for her mistress when he saw one of his tenants riding down the road.

Jennings. Nick yelled, I need your help. The farmer jerked his head around at the familiar voice and seeing the accident he dismounted and hurried to his landlord’s assistance.

Whatever’s happened here, your Lordship he asked rather unnecessarily.

There is a lady in there and I’m going to need your help to get her out. When we have her out you will need to fetch help.

After briefly re-checking that the maid was still breathing Nick hurried back to the Chariot with Jennings in tow. Climbing back onto the body he leaned in through the door.

I am afraid Ma’am that removing you from the carriage might cause you some pain and I may have to lay hands upon you to achieve it.

Sir, I know not who you are but as I am in no position to protest, I shall rely on your discretion and do my best to assist. She fell silent for a second or two and then continued, You need not consider my dignity. I am some way past that. A valiant attempt at a chuckle came out of the gloom. I cannot see myself but I should imagine that I do not at this moment present the most dignified of pictures.

Nick lowered himself into the carriage through the open door, bracing his back against the underside of the door frame and his feet against the squabs. The lady was evidently lying against the door of the carriage which was in turn resting at a precarious angle against the bank. At that moment, he was unable to see her as she was buried under a sea of petticoats and sundry items of luggage. It was apparent that the lady had not underestimated her position; the only part of the occupant that he could make out with any clarity was one of her legs which was pointing straight up at him.

I shall need to clear some of these boxes out before I can move you. But I may jostle you in the process Ma’am. May I proceed? Nick asked politely.

Please do, was the equally courteous reply. If you could move the large box which is pinning my head and shoulders down I might even be able to rearrange my skirts and make myself a little more presentable to receive visitors.

I commend your presence of mind Ma’am; but you have no need to be concerned, I shall be careful where I look. My sisters are fond of telling me that I do not see what is under my nose but I am not sure however, that this situation is quite what they had in mind. Nick was impressed by such sangfroid in what had to be a difficult situation for any lady. As he hauled the first box out of the door to the waiting Jennings above him another muffled chuckle emanated from the heap in the bottom of the chariot.

In a moment, we shall have to introduce ourselves, but I shall wait until you have a more er... conventional view of my person. As for my presence of mind. You have not met my aunts. They would regard my current indisposition as a ‘mere inconvenience’ I can assure you.

They sound like redoubtable ladies, Nick heaved another couple of boxes out of the door but their niece appears to have assimilated no small part of their stoicism. Having removed these two obstructions, he was able to bend down, If you will permit me? Nick carefully arranged the lady’s skirts to better preserve her modesty.

You Sir, whoever you may be, are a gentleman, Nick lifted the last heavy box from on top of the lady.

Nicholas Burley, Ma’am he extended his arm to grasp the lady’s hand thus revealed, poor farmer with impressive lineage at your service.

And I, said the lady using Nick’s proffered arm to restore herself into a seemlier position am Isabella Rhetford and I am very glad to meet you Sir. I greatly fear, either Miss Rhetford missed the stunned look on Nick’s face or she was too polite to comment, I shall be unable to be of much assistance to you.

Can you stand on one foot Ma’am? Nick had himself rapidly under control having reminded himself that the fact the lady he had rescued was very wealthy did not in any way detract from her predicament. "If you can, I think it likely that Jennings and I may be able to assist you to climb out of your carriage.

I think so, was the determined response, If I could just pull on your arm...? Showing surprising strength for a young lady she levered herself into a standing position revealing in the process that her other leg had ended up in an awkward position underneath her.

Between them it was the work of only a few seconds to lift Miss Rhetford through the open door such that she was sitting on the side of the carriage. A few seconds more and she had slid down into Nick’s arms.

This was the first opportunity Nick had to see the maiden he had rescued and it was immediately apparent that Daneleigh’s father had been less than just when describing Miss Rhetford as ‘quite presentable’. She did not, at that precise moment, look her best, her clothes were very crumpled, her bonnet was askew and her face bore witness to the very considerable efforts she was making to not give into the pain. Nonetheless the Lady was, by any standards, beautiful. She had the glossiest chestnut hair framing a face boasting flawless skin, a determined but very pretty chin and brown eyes. Aware that he had been staring, Nick blushed and carefully assisted his charge to sit beside her maid who was showing signs of regaining consciousness. He turned to Jennings.

Please ride to Burley as quickly as you can and ask them to bring the gig out. Bring it back here as soon as you can and ask Miss Burley to come with you. As Jennings nodded and hurried off, Nick turned to Miss Rhetford, "I have asked Jennings to bring back my eldest sister with him, you will do better with a lady to assist you but I do not think it a good idea to wait before I