Pride in Regency Society. Sarah Mallory
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had been at school, sometimes a month would pass without a letter and then when it came it would be little more than a few lines dashed off in haste. She folded Nick’s note and placed it under her pillow; she would not worry. Besides, she had a much more pressing concern. Sir Benjamin’s health was failing rapidly. She sent for the doctor, and came hurrying downstairs to meet him as soon as he arrived.
‘Thank you for coming so promptly, Dr Scott.’
‘It is no trouble at all, Miss Eve—I mean, Mrs Wylder,’ responded the doctor, a twinkle in his kind eyes. ‘Now tell me, what is the matter with my patient? Is it his legs again?’
Eve nodded. ‘He is complaining of pains in his chest, too. Since the wedding he has not been out of the house,’ she said as she escorted him up to her grandfather’s room. ‘I thought at first he was a little tired from all the celebrations, but this past week he has kept to his bed. And he is eating so little.’
‘Well, take me to him, Mrs Wylder, and I’ll see what I can do.’
Eve was busy arranging a bowl of roses in the great hall when the doctor came in search of her.
‘I thought I would take these up to Grandpapa,’ she said, as he descended the stairs. ‘He is so fond of flowers and the perfume from these is delightful.’ Her smile faltered as she looked at him. ‘It is not good news, I fear, Dr Scott.’
‘You must remember he is an old man,’ said the doctor gently. ‘And a very sick one.’
‘I do,’ she murmured. ‘I am very grateful that he has been with me for so long…’
‘I have often thought that he was determined to keep going for your sake. Now that you are married—’
‘Oh, pray do not say that!’ cried Eve, distressed.
‘No, well, perhaps not.’ Dr Scott patted her shoulder. ‘Go to him, my dear. Take him your flowers. I will call again tomorrow.’
‘Grandpapa, I have brought you some roses. Since you cannot go to the garden, the garden must come to you. I shall put them here, near the window where you can see them. There, are they not beautiful?’
Sir Benjamin smiled a little. He was propped up on a bank of plump pillows, but his eyes were shut. He looked gaunt and grey and very frail in his nightcap and gown.
Eve went over to the bed and took his hand. ‘Will you not look at the roses, Grandfather?’
His eyes opened a fraction. ‘Very pretty,’ he murmured. ‘You must excuse me, my love. I cannot seem to get my breath.’
‘Then do not waste it on words,’ she whispered. ‘I shall sit here beside you: we need not talk.’
By the time Dr Scott returned the next morning it was all over. Evelina met him with a black shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes, she knew, were red and swollen from crying, but she made no excuses.
‘Oh, my dear.’ He took her hands.
Evelina lifted her head a little higher. ‘It was very peaceful,’ she said. ‘Rooney and I were with him.’
‘I’m glad, the two people who loved him most in the world. He would like that. But what will you do now? You should not be here alone.’
‘Why not? I am accustomed to that.’
‘But not in these circumstances. There are arrangements to be made,’ said Dr Scott. ‘The funeral, for instance…’
‘I shall instruct Grandpapa’s lawyers today; they will know what is to be done. And I shall write to my husband.’ A new burst of sadness clogged her throat making it difficult to speak. She missed Nick so badly. ‘He is away for the moment.’
‘Then I wish him God speed to return to you, Mrs Wylder.’
Evelina wished it, too, but she could not allow Nick’s continued absence to fill her thoughts, there was too much to do. Letters had to be written, lawyers consulted and funeral arrangements to be put in place. Evelina left the running of Makerham to Mrs Harding while she busied herself with the rituals of bereavement. She sent off her note express to Hastings and wondered how soon she could expect a reply.
Two days later she was in one of the attic rooms, searching through trunks of her mother’s clothes for anything that might be altered and used as a mourning gown when from the open window she heard the sounds of a carriage on the drive. Her heart began to thud painfully at the thought that Nick had returned. She hurtled down the stairs, arriving in the great hall just as the door opened.
‘Oh I knew you would come! I—’
She broke off, fighting back a wave of anger and disappointment when she saw Bernard Shawcross stepping through the doorway.
‘I am delighted to think I have not disappointed you, Cousin,’ he said smoothly. As he straightened from his bow he put his hand to his neck. ‘You see, I have adopted a black cravat. Thought it fitting.’
‘Y-yes, thank you,’ she stammered. ‘You received my letter.’
He inclined his head. ‘I came immediately. I thought you would need me. This is a very distressing time for you. You have my deepest sympathy, dear Cousin. Such a shock for you.’
‘Shock? No…no. Grandpapa’s health has been of concern for some time. That is why we did not remove to my husband’s home in the north country. But you must think me very rag-mannered. Pray sit down, Bernard; you must be wondering why Captain Wylder is not here to greet you. He is away, you see. On business.’
‘Ah.’ His close-set eyes under their heavy brows were fixed upon her. ‘So you have not heard from him?’
‘N-no, not yet. It is my hope that he is even now on his way to Makerham.’
Bernard’s mouth stretched into a smile. ‘Let us hope so, indeed. But in the meantime I am here to support you. If you would ask Mrs Harding to prepare a room for me…’ He waved one hand. ‘I know, by rights it should be the master’s room, but perhaps it is a little soon.’
She knew a little spurt of anger at his presumption. ‘Far too soon,’ she retorted. ‘Grandfather’s bedchamber is still as he left it—’ She broke off, gathered herself and said more calmly, ‘One of the guest rooms shall be prepared for you.’
Eve was glad of the excuse to leave her cousin and she hurried away to consult the housekeeper. Mrs Harding’s reaction to his arrival was typically forthright.
‘So he’s turned up, has he? Like a bad penny, that one.’
‘He is the master here now, Mrs Harding,’ Eve reminded her gently. She ignored the housekeeper’s scornful look. ‘I must clear Grandpapa’s room for him, but not yet.’
‘No of course not yet, Miss Eve! Why, the master ain’t even in his grave. We’ll strip the room out completely after the funeral, miss, and we’ll do it together. It’s not a job for a young lady to take on alone.’
‘And…’ Eve bit her lip ‘…and will you join us for dinner, Mrs Harding?’ She could not explain her uneasiness, but the older woman nodded immediately.
‘Of course, miss, and I’ll be in the drawing room of an evening, too. You shouldn’t be left alone with that man.’
‘Oh, I am sure there is nothing…’
‘You cannot be sure of anything with that one,’ retorted Mrs Harding grimly. ‘He’s trouble, you mark my words. I just wish the captain was here, he would know how to look after you.’
Eve forced a smile. How easily the staff had taken to Nick.
‘Perhaps we shall have news of him tomorrow.’