Chapter Fourteen

The Dowager Duchess of Dunleigh did not often organize social engagements, but when she did, they were select, genteel, and blindingly dull.

Her children were all, of course, expected to attend.

Henry took a hired carriage to his childhood home, fidgeting in his finest – and dullest – evening suit, and wondering how long it would be before he would be permitted to go to bed. His mother’s social events tended to last until the early hours, even if dancing was not part of the agenda.

Tonight’s engagement was just a dinner party, with music and card-tables for afterward. Henry did not particularly want to come, but it was not really an invitation, more like a command.

William was waiting at the door to greet guests.

“Evening,” he said bluntly, nodding at Henry. “Are you staying overnight?”

“Yes, I suppose so. How is Mother?”

“In good spirits. Alexander is not attending tonight. He isn’t well.”

Worry prickled down Henry’s spine, and he stepped closer to his brother, dropping his voice.

“When you say he isn’t well…”

“I mean that he got himself drunk this afternoon,” William said bitterly, “and collapsed. We got him upstairs and in his bed before Mother noticed and told her he has a megrim. Please, don’t tell her otherwise.”

“Of course not. Something must be done about Alexander. He’s getting worse and worse.”

“Alexander wants to be married,” William sighed, shaking his head, “but he’s a third son, and all the ladies chasing after him seem to have had a go at me and then you before him. One can’t blame him for wanting to be somebody’s first choice.”

Henry was truly worried. “No, I certainly cannot. What do you think we can do to help him?”

William shrugged. “I’ve thought it over, but nothing comes to mind. It’s not as if we can tell him to relax, that he’ll find somebody sooner or later. If Alexander isn’t married soon, he’ll lose all of his money. We all know that. I believe this is how he’s dealing with his fears.”

“Drinking and gambling? I wish the man would just go horse riding and go for walks like everybody else,” Henry huffed, earning himself a small smile from William. “Shall I go up to see him?”

“No, let him sleep. I’ll check on him frequently.”

Henry paused, half turned to move along to the big parlour, where muffled, genteel conversation was drifting out of the half-opened door.

“Are… are the Fairfaxes here?”

William shot him an odd look. “No, of course not. This is Mother’s event, and you know how she feels about tradespeople.”

Henry’s heart sank. That in itself was a little worrying. He knew fine well that it was not Charles Fairfax he had wanted to see.

Stop it, he scolded himself, moving through into the main room. Eleanor made it very clear what she thought about you. She was hurt, angry, and cold, because she believes you’re here to replace her. And for all you know, that could well be Charles’ intention. The shareholders certainly think so.

He found himself recalling the rumour which had been hinted to him repeatedly over the afternoon – that he would marry Eleanor Fairfax and inherit the business. Of course, Henry had acted as if he had never heard anything so ridiculous.

What would I do if Charles proposed it?

Well, of course, Eleanor would never give her consent. I’m sure she dislikes me still.

Goosebumps rose up over Henry’s skin. Eleanor was clever, interesting, beautiful – far more beautiful than any other lady he’d seen, and Henry was at a loss as to why more people couldn’t see it – and he truly enjoyed her company.

I would marry her. I would.

The thought had barely taken root in his mind before the Dowager appeared, fluttering and happy in black silk and pearls.

“Henry, darling!” she chirped, and he bent down to kiss her powdery cheek.

“Good evening, Mother. How are you? ”

“Oh, well enough, well enough. I’m looking forward to a properly genteel evening – the new parties and balls all seem so vulgar , don’t you think? All that waltzing. Well, come on through – we’re just taking our places at the dinner table now. Did you hear that poor Alexander is ill? What a pity, he does so enjoy cards. Never mind, never mind.”

The Dowager chattered on, allowing Henry to escort her into the dining room. The long table was set for an elaborate supper, and guests mostly seemed to be older, genteel ladies and gentlemen, lords and ladies and titled people.

And, of course, Lord and Lady Redford and their wretched daughter.

Henry’s heart sank when the Dowager walked him to his place, directly beside Miss Sophia Redford.

The girl smiled coyly up at him, clearly pleased with herself. The Dowager shot a knowing look up at Henry and muttered something about ‘leaving the young people alone’.

Then she was gone, and Henry was left to sit beside Sophia and try and make polite conversation.

“I have brought my harp tonight, Lord Henry,” Sophia whispered conspiratorially. “I can play the pianoforte too, of course – you’ll recall that we discussed this before – but I think you will enjoy my harp playing.”

“I look forward to it,” Henry managed. “My mother’s parties are always so genteel.”

Genteel felt like a polite way of saying dull .

Henry remembered how parties had been when his father was alive. Nobody else was allowed to have any influence on things like the guest list and the entertainment, not even the Dowager. She would have to arrange it all, naturally – the food, the decorations, and so on, and if the party was not an absolute success… well.

Some of Henry’s earliest memories were of an empty house after midnight, guests long gone, and his father’s voice bellowing angrily through the silence, his mother’s weeping following it. Henry remembered crouching on the stairs, ashen faced, wondering just what his mother had done, what faux pas she had made to make his father so angry .

He remembered how the servants would scurry around, cleaning up and restoring the house to its perfect state. They would keep their heads down, lips tight, faces pale, going about their work in absolute silence.

“ What did I say about blancmange, you stupid woman? Absolutely not, I said! You thought you could sneak it onto the table, didn’t you? Behind my back!”

“ Darling, I am sorry, only Lord and Lady Everett specifically requested…”

“ I don’t give a straw for Lord and Lady Everett! I am master of this house, and what I say goes! I will not have anyone – not my wife, not my children, not anybody – defying me! Is that clear?”

“Lord Henry?”

Henry flinched, blinking. He was an adult again, the dark staircase was gone, and there was no shouting.

There was also no blancmange on the table, or any other of the foods and decorations that the old Duke had considered so disgusting.

“I beg your pardon?” He glanced down at Sophia, forcing a watery smile.

She simpered. “You were quite in a dream-world there, Lord Henry. I was only telling you of a thing I saw Miss Bellamy do the other night. She is quite ridiculous at times, with no sense of occasion at all. It hardly matters, though. I would pay a penny for your thoughts. No, a full shilling. What do you say?”

He swallowed hard. “I don’t believe my thoughts are worth a straw, Miss Redford. Perhaps you ought to spend your money on better things.”

Her self-satisfied smile wavered, as if she had expected something else.

“Well, as you like. But you were very deep in thought. Your brow was furrowed, and you looked almost angry.”

She really wasn’t going to let it go. Henry smothered a sigh. The first course was coming out, some sort of soup or another. The dessert dishes were already on the table, mounds of sugared fruit and grandiose cakes and trifles.

“I was just wondering,” Henry murmured, “Why there’s no blancmange. It’s my mother’s favourite dessert, you see. Not that we ever ate it as children. ”

“Oh? Why not?” Sophia asked, glancing around as if already losing interest.

Henry smiled grimly at nothing in particular. “Do you know, I have no idea. It’ll remain a mystery, I suppose.”

***

It was clear, from a glance at Miss Sophia Redford’s face, that she was furious.

She was almost pouting, plucking at the strings of her harp harder than was necessary, making all of the music staccato.

Henry supposed she had imagined a sort of concerto, with herself playing harp on a platform to an adoring audience, with Henry in the forefront.

However, the Dowager had other ideas. The card-tables were up and ready, with a few people playing other games, like chess and backgammon, and a little knot of older folks chatting in low voices in the corner. The harp was set by the pianoforte, and poor Sophia Redford had been sitting there for a full half an hour, playing piece after piece, with nobody paying much attention to her - they were all focused on their games.

Henry had been roped into a game of cards, and had his back turned to Sophia, so she couldn’t even imagine that he was staring wistfully at her.

If the girl wasn’t so unkind, Henry might have felt sorry for her.

The Dowager was flitting from table to table, making sure that everybody was enjoying themselves. Katherine and Timothy were playing chess by themselves, William was making up another member of the card table, along with a lady who seemed to be constantly fighting sleep.

The fourth member was Richard Grenville, the rival to the Fairfax empire.

There wasn’t much chatting. They were focused on their cards. Henry smothered a yawn and resisted the urge to glance at the clock. It would only be five minutes later from the last time he had looked, and then he would feel despondent .

“I hear that you’ve joined hands with the Fairfaxes, Lord Henry,” Lord Richard said abruptly, making the half-asleep lady jerk awake and nearly drop her cards.

Henry eyed him thoughtfully.

“Now, where did you hear that, I wonder?”

Lord Richard chuckled. “Word gets around, my friend. You should know that.”

“I suppose. Well, then, I may as well tell you that it’s true, and the business is finalized.”

Henry glanced up to find William’s eyes on him, although his older brother said nothing. William knew, of course, that Henry had gone into partnership with the Fairfaxes. Henry had not yet asked for the money for the capital he had promised. Silly, of course. It couldn’t – shouldn’t – be put off for much longer.

It would not be a fun conversation. However, the conversation with Charles and Eleanor Fairfax would be even worse, when he finally admitted that he did not have the money he’d promised them.

“Well, I suppose it is your choice, after all,” Lord Richard said, with just the right amount of reluctance. “I’m not sure I would have chosen to ally myself with the Fairfaxes, but no doubt you have done your due diligence.”

“What?” William spoke up, just as Henry had known he would. He glanced between his brother and Lord Richard, frowning. “It is Lord Richard Grenville, is it not? I don’t believe we’ve been introduced properly.”

“Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you, your Grace,” Richard said, smiling easily. “I own a pottery business not unlike the Fairfaxes, but mine is a little… oh, how should I say this? A little more orderly.”

Don’t push it, Will, please, Henry prayed. Don’t fall for it. The man is trying to make trouble.

He kept his eyes on his cards, shooting wary looks at the other two players. The sleepy lady had drifted off again, her cards sagging dangerously.

“What do you mean, orderly?” William asked, frowning.

Lord Richard winced, making a great show of reluctance. “I do hate to say… well, Mr Fairfax is a decent man, but not, I would say, a true businessman . He is rather old, and his health is not good. It’s rather natural he would need help. He allows his daughter to practically run the business, can you believe it? Quite a scandalous decision.”

“Perhaps it should not be a scandalous decision,” William remarked, picking up another card. “My sister, Katherine, is remarkably intelligent and capable. I would trust her with my life. This idea that ladies are not as clever as gentlemen is fast losing power, Mr Grenville.”

Henry suppressed a smile. Lord Richard blinked, almost visibly reassessing his mode of attack.

“Of course, of course,” he managed, smiling thinly. “But there is no denying that the Fairfax enterprises are in trouble and have been for some time. As I say, Lord Henry, I am sure you know what you’re doing, but I must just drop a word in your ear.”

“Must you?” Henry muttered.

Richard pretended not to hear. He threw his cards down on the table, face up, and leaned forward.

“The Fairfaxes are sinking fast, sir. Be careful, if you do not wish to sink with them.”

“And you know this how, sir?” Henry shot back. “From what I can see…”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Richard interrupted. He was grinning again, the wretch, and by throwing down his cards in that way, had ruined the game. “You’ll realise soon enough that you’ve made a mistake, Lord Henry, and when you do – if you can disentangle yourself – do come to me, won’t you? I’m sure we can find a place for an enterprising young man in our business.”

He dropped a wink and got to his feet, not bothering to wait for a reply. He stalked off, leaving Henry and William to drop their cards and glance at each other.

“I didn’t like that man,” William said, after a pause. “He seemed… well, he seemed rather smug.”

“Yes, he’s awful,” Henry muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was getting a headache. “He can’t stand the Fairfaxes, and now I suppose he’s got it in for me, too.”

“What did he mean about them sinking fast, though?”

“I have no idea,” Henry responded.

That wasn’t true, though .

They need money. The money I promised to give them. The money I don’t have.

The sleeping lady at the end of the table woke herself up with a sharp snort, blinking groggily around at them all.

“What’s going on?” she mumbled. “Is it my turn?”