Chapter Twenty-Four
Benjamin had never enjoyed London as much as he did in those days following Marksman’s and Theodora’s wedding.
Miss Whitchurch delegated more and more of her duties for Mr. Sustar to Mrs. Geoffrey, though Victoria constantly declared she must pay her fair share for her use of the house.
Not that Benjamin took her payments for himself.
He had instructed Mr. Froschele to place her quarterly payments away for the boy.
Twice a week, she accompanied him as he looked at properties he could use to fulfill their plans to create a more viable community in Cheapside and the surrounding areas of London.
“I would never take all these steps,” he admitted to Aaran as they two shared a meal at their club, “if not for Miss Whitchurch’s vision.”
Graham smiled knowingly. “You have named your future. I am exceedingly happy for you.”
“We must wait to marry,” Benjamin argued.
“Those days will pass quickly,” Aaran assured.
“When do you leave for Scotland?” Benjamin asked. “Parliament is in recess. Assuredly, you have much to accomplish before we must return to the Lords.”
Graham shrugged, a customary gesture for the man.
Often Graham did not think he belonged in his exalted position, though Benjamin highly disagreed, and he wondered what Ethan might one day feel about his parents’ actions.
The child would be considered legitimate simply because Duncan had arranged the necessary paperwork.
In reality, Duncan had managed something similar for Aaran when the previous Lord Graham passed.
Aaran, in Duncan’s opinion, would prove a better earl than his legitimate, but infinitely less responsible half-brother.
Even so, Aaran suffered snubs from both his fellow Scottish lords and many English ones, though Aaran’s faction of the Graham legacy had thrived under Aaran’s care.
“Good day, my lords.” James Kepper bowed before them.
“Kepper,” Aaran acknowledged. “Join us, if you please. Since Honfleur’s capture, we have not seen much of you.”
“Lord Duncan has me filing papers some days and on others chasing after some of those we suspect were part of Mr. Yates’s group of forgers,” the man said as he sat. “I hear you proposed to the woman on your arm at Marksman’s wedding to Lady Theodora. Have you named the day?”
“Miss Whitchurch is still grieving her sister’s passing,” Benjamin repeated the agreed upon tale of Miss Cassandra’s death. “We would not have attended the wedding except for the fact it was family.”
“Then you shan’t be attending the Belewards’ ball at the end of August?” Kepper asked. “It is the official end of the Season.”
“I think not,” Benjamin assured. “It would not be proper.”
“You, Lord Graham?” Kepper inquired, continuing to chatter on as he was often accustomed to do.
“I will likely make an appearance. Then I will depart for Scotland a few days later. I must call upon my southern estate first—several issues to address there before I move inland.”
“I am hoping to dance with Miss McGinty,” Kepper said as he motioned one of the club’s footmen over to place his order.
Both Benjamin and Aaran waited a quarter hour before they excused themselves, claiming prior commitments. “Were we ever that green?”
“I imagine we were,” Benjamin said, “but Duncan would have drummed it out of us as quickly as it became apparent to him.”
Benjamin left Aaran at his brother’s waiting carriage and turned his steps towards the nearby park.
He had told Mr. Stanton to retrieve him at half past one near a small jewelry shop.
When he was in Kent for Miss Cassandra’s burial, he had removed two rings from the Thompson family safe.
He had asked the jeweler to reset the stones into a newly styled ring for what would be Victoria’s wedding ring.
With a sigh of satisfaction, he decidedly set off across the park, while still thoroughly engrossed in thoughts of his betrothed.
He was nearing the cross street when a man stepped out before him, and Benjamin stumbled to a halt.
Though the day was barely half over, the fellow reeked of alcohol and stale cigars. It was Jonas Betts.
“Where is my son?” Betts burped, rather than asked, and the man’s breath filled the air around Benjamin with sourness.
“I am not your father, Betts, which means I know nothing of your affairs.” Benjamin started around the man, but, surprisingly, Betts managed to block Benjamin’s path.
“I want to see my son,” Betts hissed.
“I did not know you had sired a child,” Benjamin said with well-practiced calm.
“Cassandra’s child is mine!” Betts declared as he attempted to pull himself upward in a show of strength.
Benjamin noted that a crowd of on-lookers began to form.
Therefore, he said, “I do not know of your affairs elsewhere; however, I am aware that you believe you possess the right to speak to Mr. Whitchurch’s daughters as no true gentleman should.
Miss Whitchurch has thoroughly explained your foul behavior.
She has asked me not to act as I would wish, for her parents, the Whitchurches live in the village outside your father’s estate and would suffer your pettiness.
Yet, such does not mean I will tolerate your denigration of my betrothed’s name.
I told you so when you forced your way into Macalhey House to harass Miss Whitchurch and her friends when they were enjoying an afternoon together.
I thought I was plain spoken enough at the time, but, if you persist with your madness, I will be required to speak to Lord Betts regarding your mad ravings.
I doubt the baron would wish for you to seek out… ”
Betts pulled himself up straighter. “I want to see the son I begat with Cassandra Whitchurch,” he said loud enough for everyone within earshot to hear.
Benjamin swallowed his anger, and, instead, practiced the sensibility Duncan always required of his sons.
“Betts, you must quit this madness. Perhaps too much drink has confused you to the point you believe your words are true.” He noted several of the onlookers nodded in agreement.
“My betrothed’s sister loved only one man, Lieutenant Anthony Chase, God rest his soul.
Lieutenant Chase is currently listed as assumed dead on one of the many battlefields in Europe. ”
“You lie!” Betts declared as he swayed in place.
“I can produce the marriage certificate for Lieutenant Chase and Miss Cassandra’s joining.
As one of the child’s godparents, I made certain there was proof of the child’s birthright so he might inherit one day,” Benjamin said with more calm than he felt.
“Just because you attempted to accost both my betrothed and her younger sister does not make either the mother of your child. Your horrid actions towards Miss Whitchurch forced her to take a position in Bath at a girls’ school just to be out of your reach.
I pity the barony when it is under your care, for no honorable woman within ten miles will know the freedom to walk about without worrying about the depravity you have displayed on a continual basis. ”
Several gentlemen among the onlookers stepped closer, as if preparing to support Benjamin if needed.
“He is my child!” Betts hissed.
“The child’s christening certificate does not mention you,” Benjamin repeated.
Ironically, even he was beginning to enjoy Betts’s public humiliation.
“It lists Miss Cassandra as the child’s mother and Lieutenant Chase as the father.
I admit, it is a great sin that the boy will not know the love of his mother and father, but Miss Whitchurch and I plan to raise him along with any blessings we are presented with from our joining.
I have promised that he will have an education and an honest occupation. ”
“Good for you, Thompson,” Lord Stanley declared as he took another step closer to where Betts swayed in place. “You are a credit to both your father’s fine name and that of Lord Duncan.”
Benjamin nodded his gratitude, but he did not remove his eyes from Betts.
“Where is Cassandra in all this?” Betts demanded. “She is just willing to desert her son?”
“Ah,” Benjamin thought. “It took a bit to reach this point, but I can now openly change the opinions of any who still might believe parts of Betts’s tale.”
“Surely you recall when you forced your way into my house that you cruelly told my betrothed and all her friends and my staff that Mrs. Chase had been killed near the docks. Were you too inebriated then to recall your dastardly manners?”
“Cruelly!” Betts shrieked. “How was the truth ‘cruel’?”
“Though your actions were appalling, you are correct, sir. We would not have thought to search for Mrs. Chase near the Thames. I suppose I should speak my gratitude for providing us that bit of information, though I should tell you if you ever enter my house again without an invitation, I will not hesitate to have you brought before a proper constable.”
“I wanted to see for myself if the boy favored my countenance,” Betts protested. “Cassandra claimed he had something of my look about him.”
Benjamin wished to reach out and strangle young Betts, but he would not place Ethan’s future in danger.
Instead he said as a reminder to those listening in what both he and Duncan wished them to believe.
“I suppose in your customary drunkenness that you imagined it to be so, but my betrothed’s sister died several days after giving birth to the child.
We assume she likely received the news of Lieutenant Chase having fallen in battle and took it quite hard, but we do not know that with assurance.
The coroner said she probably bled out over the days following the child’s birth.
We all know of some poor woman who has suffered thusly.
When I attended medical school in Edinburgh, more than one such catastrophe came before us.
Miss Cassandra brought the boy to her sister, but left before my betrothed returned to the respectable boarding house rooms they once shared.
“In fact the only part of your lunacy that has proven true is when you mentioned the docks and the Thames. We took you at your word, though you were quite inebriated at the time, and we looked there. I am not assured how you knew of Miss Cassandra being in that area. Did you see her by some chance? In truth, we had not known of Lieutenant Chase’s return, but then again, we were looking in the wrong place—in his home shire, not London.
Evidently, the lieutenant thought that he would be able to be with his wife when she gave birth, but such was not meant to be.
It is all quite tragic, but it is the Chase family tragedy and not of your making.
Both mother and father likely died within days of each other—Miss Cassandra in childbirth and the lieutenant in service to England, though we cannot say those are the facts, with absolute confidence.
According to the coroner, Mrs. Chase died in her let rooms from the birth of her son.
We have exhumed her from the local parish church and reburied the lady on my Kent estate where both my future wife and the child will grieve her and honor her, as is proper.
As to the child’s appearance favoring you, no one can say with certainty, for we all know things such as eye color often change and dark hair is quite common.
Once it is confirmed that Lieutenant Chase is also dead, we will contact the Chase family to know their wishes in the matter.
However, as my Victoria has cared for the child since he was newly born, I can say, neither of us will easily hand him over to others. We are both quite devoted to the boy.”
“Bless you, my lord,” several from the growing crowd said.
“You lie!” Betts shouted. “I know who killed her! I know who left Cassandra in the alley to bleed out!”
Benjamin wished he could demand that particular answer, but with a crowd watching his every move, it was not possible.
However, before he could respond, Lord Stanley shoved Betts from the way.
“Why do you persist in this madness?” Stanley demanded.
“Take yourself off to your rooms or your club or wherever the likes of you keep at it. Your father should know great shame. I mean to write to him and tell him of the spectacle you have created, though I doubt it will do any good. Surely, like all who look upon you now, your father knows you could not be worthy of the barony.”
There were a few “ayes” spoken among the onlookers.
“You wait,” Betts shouted. “I will prove it to you! Then it will be Thompson who is the fool for aligning himself with the Whitchurches!”
Benjamin looked on as Betts pushed his way through the crowd to reach the street, where he disappeared into the stream of people hurrying about their business.
Benjamin swallowed a few steadying breaths before reaching a hand to Lord Stanley.
“Thank you kindly, my lord, for your intervention, but my instincts say Mr. Betts will not soon forget his embarrassment at your hands.”
Stanley blustered, “I appreciate your warning, but I am a man of honor.”
“Yes, you are,” Benjamin said, but he would have someone from the Home Office keep an eye on Stanley until either Stanley or Betts or both returned to their respective country estates.