Chapter Twenty-One
T he day of her husband's funeral started well enough. Hettie was more rested than she had been in weeks. Because he had stayed with her. Not through the whole of the night, but well into the wee hours of the morning. He'd held her, never demanding anything. Never taking what she would freely have given him. And the truth of it was that she was strangely grateful for that. Passion and heat had already been proven between them. But the real intimacy, the kind of comfort one could find in being close to a person when speech was not even necessary, when silence no longer caused discomfort, that was something she wasn't sure she'd ever had with anyone. Not until him.
Well rested or not, it did not take long for the day to take a turn. Foster appeared in the doorway of the morning room, her hands clenched tightly in front of her. "There's a man here to see you, m'lady. He wouldn't give his name."
"A gentleman?"
"Not a fine gentleman, but he's more than a shopkeeper or merchant."
It was an early hour for anyone to be calling. And that was warning enough for Hettie that it would likely be an unpleasant event. No one came to call so early without either very good news or very bad news, and good news had been in terribly short supply. "Well, making him wait will not change his reasons for being here. If it's something dreadful, I'd best get it over with."
With that, she followed Foster from the morning room to the study where the man had been shown. Bracing herself for whatever was to come, she found herself almost relieved when it was only the pale-faced, thin-framed clerk who worked for Arthur's solicitor awaiting her on the other side of the door.
"Mr. Batson, I wasn't expecting you. I had assumed I wouldn't hear about any of Arthur's estate matters until after the funeral was completed. Isn't that normally when the reading of the will should take place?" she asked.
"Well, yes, m'lady. It is. And if I were only here for the will, it would be a blessing, I say. A blessing! But I'm not here on behalf of your husband's estate. Well, not directly. I'm here, my lady, in a capacity more related to our understanding."
Their understanding. Mr. Batson had been her ally and her friend. The man, in truth, had taken pity on her after witnessing one of Arthur's more violent episodes. Her husband had struck her in front of the little clerk. But that episode had been enough to garner his support. It had been Mr. Batson who had advised her regarding her previous plan to seek an annulment.
"Our arrangement, Mr. Batson?"
"Yes, m'lady. I always made it a point to keep you well informed of anything occurring in my employer's office that might impact your current or future well being, and I'm afraid that there is something afoot which may well do so! Lord Simon Dagliesh intends to issue a challenge to the estate."
"A challenge?"
The solicitor blushed. "Yes. In light of there being no close male relatives who could advise you on matters of estate, Lord Simon, as the heir apparent, wishes to seize control of the title and estates immediately rather than let them fall into ‘disarray.' But that can only be achieved by establishing that there will be no direct heir from your late husband. It's a simple matter of having your physician sign an affidavit—I, say, my lady, that you look most peaked. Are you unwell?"
She could deny that she was with child. But it would be proven for a lie soon enough. And Simon would never accept that she would have no wish to lay any sort of claim to the title or the remnants of Arthur's estates. Not to mention, of course, that the bulk of the actual wealth would go with her—unless she died. They would never be safe from him. If he thought she or her child posed any sort of threat to his position, or his fortune, then he'd stop at nothing to see them eliminated.
"I'm afraid that will not be possible, Mr. Batson. I am with child," she said simply.
The man all but quaked with shock, his lower lip trembling as he struggled to find words. "My lady... that is... well, I am certain that it must be a balm to your grieving spirit in this terrible hour."
"Indeed, Mr. Batson. It is. Until the child is born and its sex determined, we will not know if Arthur has a direct heir or not. I am afraid that Simon will simply have to be patient." She would have to be mad as a March hare to think that would ever happen. Simon was deep in dun territory. He owed money to everyone, and now, courtesy of Joss, she knew he was on the verge of being tossed out of the Albany. His situation was not merely desperate but untenable.
The clerk nodded. "This development is a decided complication, my lady. I do not think he will be pleased, madame."
"No, Mr. Batson, I dare say that he will not," Hettie agreed.
"In regards to the matter we discussed in the past, the matter of the consummation of your marriage and how it might impact decisions you were making about proceeding in your marriage—I am to assume those issues were resolved?"
"Any child I conceived during the course of my marriage is, by law, my husband's child unless someone wishes to challenge that," she replied. "Isn't that what you once told me?"
"Yes, madame, it is," the little man agreed with a sigh. "Perhaps if you let it be known that the child is not your late husband's... well, it doesn't matter does it? When his lordship discovers the division of your marriage settlement and that the bulk of it will return to you, I fear for your safety. Lord Simon has hired a solicitor of his own. A most disagreeable man, really, and not at all the sort one could rely upon to be above board and honest. Though that would be a very costly measure in a different way."
That Mr. Batson knew the truth of Arthur's predicament and that the child she carried could not possibly be that of her late husband, but was still willing to help her—it was beyond touching. But that still didn't negate the fact that he was advising her on the best way to move forward while retaining control of Arthur's title and estates, which she had no legal right to under the circumstances. They were hardly in the position where they could question anyone else's morals. "It would be very costly. And there is no guarantee that Simon would not act against me regardless. I have strong suspicions, Mr. Batson that Simon is responsible for Arthur's murder. I think it likely he would have done harm to him before had we not been so embroiled in scandal that everything about us was under such extreme scrutiny."
"Are you safe here, my lady? Are there servants in this house whom you can trust?"
"Very few, Mr. Batson. And in light of that realization, I think any further business between us should be conducted at my sister's home. I shall stay with Honoria and her Mr. Carrow for the time being. I think it would be the safest way forward."
Mr. Batson nodded his balding head. "Indeed, madame. Terrifying fellow, Mr. Carrow, but most efficient! I will return to the office. This afternoon, I expect that my employer will request a letter be drafted to you regarding the aforementioned physician's affidavit and the exam that would need to be conducted. But I shall not send that letter until late afternoon, thus giving you adequate time to make your way to your sister's home... by say, four this afternoon?"
"Yes, Mr. Batson. I will make certain to be safely tucked up in my sister's home by then... if you could deliver a message to someone for me, a Mr. Josiah Ettinger. He's a private inquiry agent who is a frequent associate of Mr. Carrow. If you could let him know that I will be taking sanctuary in my sister's home, that would be most appreciated."
"I will see it done, my lady, and as always, mum's the word about our conversations," the little man said. "It wasn't right, you know? The way he treated you. It wasn't right at all. It's one thing to be in a marriage where there is no love, but to be in one where one party is actively cruel to another—I simply cannot fathom it."
There was something in the man's tone that alerted her to a hidden pain. "Do you have a wife, Mr. Batson?"
"No, madame. I was never so blessed as to marry. But I did love a young lady once... many years ago. Her father disapproved of my lack of prospects and arranged for her to wed another. It ended very poorly for her. Now, I try to intervene where I can to prevent such a sad fate from striking others."
Overwhelmed with compassion for the poor man, Hettie felt tears stinging her eyes. "You are a very good man, Mr. Batson. And you have done remarkable things in the name of your lost love."
He beamed at her. "Then I have achieved my loftiest goal, my lady. I shall bid you good day now."
Alone once more, Hettie immediately rang for Foster. When the maid entered, she wasted no time with explanations. "I've decided that I shall go and stay with Honoria and Mr. Carrow for the time being. Pack for an extended visit, Foster, for you and myself."
The maid nodded and then rushed away to do as she'd been bid. Hettie then wrote a short note to her sister, explaining what she planned to do, but carefully made no mention of Mr. Batson or his warning in case the missive was intercepted. Her entire life seemed to be nothing but a series of intrigues and schemes. She longed for something simpler. Something easier. Certainly something less lonely.