CHAPTER TWO

LONDON, NOVEMBER 1816

Eleanor Wellesley sat waiting patiently for her father, Sir Edward, at his lodgings in a narrow Street leading to Golden Square; the meagre light of a flickering candle causing shadows to dance around her, mercifully hiding the shabbiness of the room.

    It was accommodation hardly fitting a gentleman of her father’s rank, and she realized that his position must be even more desperate than she had supposed.

    Wistfully she looked at the cold fireplace; another shiver causing her to pull her woollen wrap closer around her shoulders, and she thought fondly of her warm and comfortable little sitting-room at home in Charnock Park, Northamptonshire.

    But the iciness of the threadbare room was not the only coldness that struck at her heart.

    Sir Edward would be displeased to see her; of that she had no doubt. He had forbidden her to come to him. Yet she had decided she had little choice but to disobey him. He must be made to understand the seriousness of their situation at home; understand their peril.

    With misty eyes she looked at her hands in her lap and at the ring on her finger. It was a man’s heavy gold signet ring, set with one fine diamond. It had been her brother’s and looked incongruous on her small hand, but no matter what befell her, she would never part with it.

    She released a deep and forlorn sigh. She missed Henry as never before. All her life, in the face of her father’s indifference and neglect, Henry had been her stalwart ally; her only comfort. Now he was gone, perishing in the advance on Toulouse, ironically, the very last battle of the war.

    Had Henry lived their fortunes would not be in jeopardy now.

    Eleanor was startled as the clock on the mantelpiece chimed six o’clock, and almost immediately she heard raised voices on the staircase. Her father entered the room soon afterwards.

    Eleanor was shocked at his appearance. He had cut a fine figure in his earlier years, but now his shoulders had a disconsolate droop and his face showed the telling signs of a man given over to dissipation, little sleep and poor food.

    She rose quickly and came to him, pity stabbing at her heart.

    ‘Papa! You look ill.’

    Sir Edward stared sullenly at her for a moment, a queer glitter in his eyes which she did not like.

    ‘Eleanor, why are you come here? I do not wish to see you.’

    Eleanor tried to take his arm to lead him to a chair but he shrugged her hand away.

    ‘Leave me be! I do not need or want your solicitations. You will return to Charnock Park immediately.’

    ‘That is impractical, Papa, at this hour,’ Eleanor said reasonable. ‘I have rented a room for the night on the floor above.’

    Eleanor smarted at the remembrance of the disdain the lodging-keeper had shown to her as she had handed over her five shillings. She found it exceedingly vexing since the lodgings were of a low character.

    ‘Mrs Possimer’s attitude was contemptuous towards me,’ Eleanor continued. ‘And demanded that I pay in advance.’ She hesitated, unwilling to anger him further, yet she must know the true situation. ‘Are you in arrears with the rent, Papa?’

    His face turned a dull red. ‘How dare you question me on such matters? They are not of your concern, and I have nothing to say to you on that subject or any other.’

    Eleanor shivered involuntarily as the shadow of the debtors’ prison loomed large.

    ‘But, Papa,’ she persisted. ‘You must realise how grave the situation is at home. The servants, all but James Cooper and Mrs Boyesen, have deserted the house, and who can blame them when their wages are neglected.’

    ‘Now you dare to criticise your father,’ Sir Edward exclaimed loudly. ‘You get above yourself, miss. I will not tolerate it.’

    Eleanor met the coldness of his gaze with sadness but also fortitude. She had given up any hope years since that her father would ever forgive her that her mother had died giving birth to her.

    ‘You know I would never criticise you, Papa,’ she replied quietly. ‘I am worried for you and for Charnock Park, our home. The tenants are complaining that Mr Abbotson has put up the rents again.’

    ‘I instructed him to do so,’ Sir Edward snapped, sinking onto a chair.

    ‘But he has evicted and driven off many of the poorer families because they could not pay the extra.’

    ‘That is not my concern.’

    ‘But, Papa!’ Eleanor exclaimed shocked at his callous attitude. ‘It must be every responsible landowner’s concern. The farms at Middleton Bough and Stylford are now idle without tenants. You must return home with me and put these injustices to rights.’

    ‘Abbotson is acting on my instructions, I tell you!’ her father said imperiously. ‘The estates are yielding less and less income each year.’

    ‘That is because they have been neglected, Papa. The estates are going to wrack and ruin. I beg you to return home before it is too late.’

    ‘I will not discuss estate matters with you, Eleanor,’ Sir Edward boomed. ‘You are not my son. You are nothing to me.’

    ‘Papa! How could you speak so?’ Eleanor whirled away, more deeply hurt that she had ever been before.

    ‘What does Charnock Park matter to me now that Henry is dead?’  he went on, his voice breaking. ‘Nothing matters now that I have no heir.’

    ‘But what of the tenants who rely...’

    ‘Silence!’ Sir Edward glared at her and she turned away, not willing for him to see how hurt she was.

    ‘I intend to remain here in London until I have recouped my losses,’ Sir Edward continued. ‘Abbotson must get as much in rents as he can for me. It matters little to me how he achieves this.’

    Eleanor turned back to face him. ‘And if you lose everything, Papa, what is to become of me?’

    There was no pleading in her voice and she held her head proudly as she awaited his answer.

    He regarded her dispassionately. ‘You have passable looks, Eleanor,’ he said. ‘You might have found yourself a husband before this had your preferences not been so nice and pernickety.’

    Eleanor felt her cheeks flush with humiliation. At sixteen her father had made it painfully clear that he would not spend one penny piece on even one London Season. She must find a husband as best she might within the circle of their sparse acquaintances in Northamptonshire. No suitor had appeared until two years ago.

    She still felt chagrin at the remembrance of the offer from a local wealthy middle-aged farmer with four lolloping sons. He had undoubtedly supposed that a baronet’s daughter, with little prospect of a good marriage, would be grateful for the position of unpaid housekeeper.

    Eleanor had sent the farmer away with a flea in his ear, and Sir Edward had called her a proud fool.

    As humiliating as that incident had been, she had recently had the misfortune of receiving a much more degrading offer. She knew she must acquaint her father with it, in view of the very sinister overtones which accompanied it. She expected little sympathy, if any.

    ‘Papa, I must tell you...’

    ‘I see no other course open to you, Eleanor, than to try for a position as governess with some good family,’ Sir Edward interrupted sourly. I shall speak to my cousin, Lady Constance Dunstan. She has many good connections through her husband’s family.’

    ‘No not trouble yourself, Papa,’ Eleanor spoke with a touch of spirit. ‘I have already written to Lady Constance. As you so generously say, I have passable looks, but without even the smallest of fortunes, it is unlikely that any gentleman would offer for me.’ She lifted her head proudly. ‘And I will not take less than a gentleman.’

    Sir Edward gave a bitter laugh. ‘Then you’ll remain unwed, and I cannot answer for you in future.’ He raised a hand of dismissal. You tire me, Eleanor. Please leave me now. I have an engagement later and I will be late returning her. I trust you will have returned home before I rise tomorrow.’

    Eleanor straightened her spine at the curt dismissal. ‘There is one more matter, Papa, before you retire.’

    ‘What is it?’

    ‘I believe you are acquainted with a person, hardly a gentleman, by the name of Mr Frederick Granville?’

    ‘What’s this further impertinence, girl?’ spluttered Sir Edward. ‘It happens Granville is a close friend of mine. Why do you speak of him?’

    ‘Mr Granville visited Charnock Park recently.’

    ‘The devil he did!’ her father exclaimed, surprise widening his faded eyes.

    Eleanor could not conceal her revulsion of Frederick Granville. ‘For all his obvious wealth and modishness, I could not like his manner and address,’ she said firmly.

    The humiliation of Mr Granville’s visit still haunted her, and she felt keen distress that her father, a member of a most honourable family, should be associated with the likes of Frederick Granville.

    She felt her colour rise again as she said. ‘Mr Granville, a total stranger to me, had the audacity, the effrontery, to offer marriage.’

    ‘What?’ Her father rose to his feet. ‘I see by your expression that you refused him.’

    ‘Would you expect me to act differently?’ Eleanor exclaimed. ‘His motive for the offer was so humiliatingly obvious. He covert’s Charnock Park.’

    Sir Edward regarded her steadily for a moment, and then his eyes narrowed.

    ‘Don’t be hasty, Eleanor. You would do well to accept him. Such a marriage would secure you a future after all, and Granville would be generous to me, also.’

    Eleanor was aghast. ‘You can’t mean what you say. I could never marry such a man. There is a sorry lack of steadiness in Mr Granville, and I suspect, a great want of integrity. He is an odious person, Papa. I wonder that you don’t see it yourself.’

    Sir Edward grunted. ‘Granville is a close friend of the Regent and is often asked to stay at Carlton House.’

    ‘He is no gentleman!’ Eleanor exclaimed.

    Frederick Granville had seemed astounded that she should refuse him, and afterwards had said such things to her that she could never bear to repeat to anyone, especially not her father.

    She remembered an evil, covetous gleam in the man’s eyes as he had gazed at her and about her father’s house.

    What had frightened and affronted her more than anything else was Frederick Granville’s parting words.

    ‘Marriage or no, Miss Wellesley, Charnock Park will be mine quite soon, and so will you.’

    Eleanor now repeated these last words to her father.

    ‘What did he mean, Papa? Are you so indebted to him that our very home is at risk?’

    Sir Edward was silent for a moment, and then he said with stubborn hauteur. ‘The truth is, Eleanor, Granville has bought up all my debts. It is a considerable amount. I believe he has done so out of respect and friendship for me. He admires my rank and position in society.’ He shook his head. ‘I have had evil luck these last few months.’

    ‘Papa, I beg you,’ Eleanor said pleadingly. ‘Come back to Charnock Park with me tomorrow. You cannot be happy here. We’ll find some way of clearing everything you owe to this dreadful man.’

    Sir Edward turned away as though he had not heard her. ‘It will be an excellent match and nothing but good can come of it.’

    ‘Papa!’

    ‘I’ll see Granville this evening,’ her father continued. ‘I’ll tell him you have reconsidered his offer. On your marriage I will hand over the running of Charnock Park to your husband. I no longer wish the burden of it. Granville is a generous man. I can expect an equitable allowance from him.’

    ‘No!’ Eleanor burst out in a rare show of anger. ‘All my life I have put aside your indifference to me. I have tried to make allowances for your disappointment in not having a second son, but I refuse to make this sacrifice for you now. I will not marry Mr Granville.’

    ‘Sacrifice you say!’ There was a cold sneer in Sir Edward’s voice. ‘Eleanor, you are all of six and twenty. I don’t scruple to tell you that I demand this marriage. Prepare yourself for it. But we will discuss it no more at this time. I bid you goodnight and goodbye.’