Chapter Twenty #2
Naturally, Navan was well aware of his wife’s endearing qualities. His grandmother and, consequently, he, should have engendered the loyalty of those on the estate, but somehow his English wife had won their hearts, as easily as she had won his.
It was impossible to consider how Annalise’s short stay at the manor house could make such a difference.
And yet, as the days ticked by and he had received no word from his wife, Navan found himself spending less and less time at the manor, for despite all the people working inside to restore it, the manor house felt strangely empty.
Reminders of Annalise were imprinted on each room, from the new drapes and bedspread in his chambers to the newly plastered walls waiting to be painted.
Klare Manor had begun to sparkle with the grandeur it once held.
Polished armor and picture frames. A repaired tapestry.
Furniture with a high shine. Even with her absence, the work continued as a tribute to his wife.
The manor house no longer reflected Lady Klare’s taste and influence.
Like everything else in Navan’s life, the manor had changed for the better with the addition of Lady Annalise Beaufort.
“Thank you for agreeing to come to Beaufort House,” Annalise told Madame Emmeline. She had not expected the modiste herself, but she was pleased with the woman’s quick response.
The modiste employed her fake French accent when she said, “Our shop is always pleased to serve you, my lady. I am glad I came. Your measurements altered slightly.”
“Likely because the meals in Ireland were more potato and bread based,” Annalise responded innocently. “I do very much prefer the green and the blue shades you showed me, and even the dark russet.”
“I agree, my lady,” the woman said. “I could have these completed by week’s end.”
Annalise handed the woman one of Beaufort’s cards. “The bills may be presented to my husband’s man of business.”
The modiste took the card and smiled. “I recall…”
The woman stopped what she was going to say, but she had piqued Annalise’s curiosity. “You recall? What?”
“It is nothing, my lady,” the woman said with a blush of embarrassment. “I once worked for another who dressed women not of your class.”
“You are saying my husband knew one of these women?” Annalise asked.
“Forgive my forwardness, my lady,” Madame Emmeline said as she quickly placed her fabric samples in the trunk she had brought to the house. “I should return to my shop. Others will be waiting for me.”
Annalise wanted an answer, for she knew the question would haunt her, but she permitted the woman’s leave-taking. “Naturally. Again, I am grateful for your expertise.”
An hour later, Mrs. Mayo brought Annalise a salver with a letter upon it. “This came for you, my lady.”
“A letter?” Annalise asked. “For me? Few even know I have married Lord Beaufort.”
“It is from Derbyshire,” Mrs. Mayo explained.
“My brother or Lord Duncan then. I have yet to write to either, though such was on my list for today.”
“It is not in the hand of either lord,” Mrs. Mayo assured, again thrusting the salver forward so Annalise might claim the letter.
Tentatively, she took it from the tray to study it.
The embossed stamp indicated it had come from someone named Smithfield.
Then it struck her. “My mother’s family,” she whispered aloud.
She sat heavily in a nearby chair and held the letter to her chest as tears arrived in her eyes. “I never thought this day would come.”
“I should leave you unless you require my assistance,” Mrs. Mayo asked.
Annalise shook off the offer. “I believe I would prefer privacy.”
Mrs. Mayo bobbed a curtsey, but she retrieved a handkerchief from a nearby drawer and handed it to Annalise before departing.
With shaking hands, Annalise broke the wax seal and unfolded the two pages and began to read.
My dearest girl,
Your brother Alexander has written to tell me of a grand story of finding you, and I have read a few of the London papers of your attendance at the Belewards’ ball.
Marksman has of late reported he had hoped to bring you to Marksman Abbey, but you have chosen instead to marry Lord Beaufort.
Therefore, I am claiming the hope of finding you at Beaufort House in London, for there is no word of you in Staffordshire.
As you might already understand, I am your maternal grandmother. Your dear mother was my only daughter. You possess two uncles and nearly a half dozen cousins, all of whom I hope you may soon greet.
Tears formed in Annalise’s eyes. “A family all my own,” she murmured. “When Beaufort returns, I shall ask him to escort me to greet my grandmother.”
Marksman and his new wife have called upon me.
The new Lady Marksman reminds me of her father, not her mother, who was always kind enough to send me news of young Alexander after he was found with his father, but then the lady passed, and no one seemed to think any of the Smithfields would care to know more of my Madelyn’s children. They erred greatly.
Though many in both your grandfathers’ families were not happy with your father’s actions, they forgot that our Madelyn loved Robert Dutton to distraction and was willing to follow him anywhere.
When your father was at Marksman Abbey, no one from the Smithfields would call on him, but I did write to him twice regarding what he had executed against my daughter and you.
Alexander says my letters were a good reminder to the goal his father had set to find you both and to bring you home.
Annalise would admit only to herself how much she had despised Robert Dutton for uprooting her, but she had often prayed to know the ability to forgive him.
She was, admittedly, not quite there yet, but she was closer.
She thought her mother would wish her to forgive him, and she would one day try by calling on his grave and saying the necessary words of forgiveness.
Alexander says you greatly favor your mother, and I would know delight to look upon you and to speak to you of what you recall of my sweet girl.
Moreover, I pray to be a part of your life.
I do not know Lord Beaufort, except by appearance, but, as you have come to love him, I am confident I will also.
I would, if it is your wish, like to be a part of your life and that of your children.
Your grandmother,
Lady Alma Smithfield
Annalise read the letter two more times.
The message was nothing monumental, but it was everything of importance in her life at the same time.
Her children could have an actual grandmother who would do all the things grandparents did to spoil a child.
They would have memories of family, both of which had been denied to her and Beaufort.
Though she supposed Beaufort had shared some memories with Lord and Lady Klare, he had come to live with Lord Duncan shortly after his parents’ passing.
They could establish lines of companionship with her mother’s brothers and their families.
The idea pleased her greatly. “I shall write to her when I write to Lords Graham and Duncan, but first I must write to Beaufort and tell him what has occurred. He will be so happy for me.”
A golden sun from earlier in the day had given way to a gray line of clouds marking the approach of nightfall when Beaufort again returned to the manor house. He knew grim lines marked his brow, indicating his unhappiness at being held in a state of limbo.
Exhaustion crept through him like a snake slithering over a hollowed-out log.
“I’ll fetch you a meal,” Mrs. Felix said. “I pray it has not been heated so many times that there is nothing worth tasting. You surely must claim your rest this evening, my lord. You are walking exhaustion.”
Beaufort smiled weakly. “In my grandfather’s time, this estate was prosperous enough to sustain the needs of the whole valley.
Then my mother’s brother inherited it, and the estate became his personal bank account.
He worked it to its bones, stealing away every bit of life remaining in its roots.
” Navan shook his head in disbelief. “My uncle, as you well know, came up with first one scheme and then another. Grandfather Klare kept Uncle Thomas under his proverbial thumb, but Grandmam presented her son free rein. A canal company. Then digging shafts for tin and then lead and finally coal. Without my saying so, you realize he has mortgaged parts of the estate. I shan’t be able to save it all, and Lady Klare… ”
“Soon, her ladyship shan’t recall any of it,” Mrs. Felix assured him.
“Each day her ladyship slips further into the past. She no longer recognizes that she is at Klare Manor. She thinks herself a young girl betrothed to your late grandfather. I would suggest you bring in a new land agent and teach him what must be done in a proper manner.”
“That is the problem. The estate is not to pass through those carrying Klare blood in their veins. That line is dead, and the documents specifically say ‘to heirs male of the body.’ The title will go into abeyance until I petition the king to allow a child of the Klares’ only daughter to inherit.
As there is my mother, with no sisters, and I am Lady Aine’s only child, I do not expect the king will disagree with my assuming control of Klare Fields.
It would provide me not only an English barony and an Irish earldom, I would also assume an Irish viscountcy, providing the British empire more control of such matters.
When I return to London, I will make my case before Parliament and His Majesty.
Eventually, Klare Fields will belong to one of my minor children. ”
“Then hire someone of Mr. O’Connor’s nature to oversee your plans. The man can live in the land agent house and your grandmother can remain in this house until the Lord calls her to Heaven.”
Beaufort knew the woman was correct, but he despised the idea of leaving part of his memories in the hands of someone that was not him. “I will consider your words.”
“Do you affect Lady Beaufort?” Mrs. Felix asked. “Would you not rather spend your evenings and nights with her? I can assure you the late Lord Klare would chastise you properly for permitting your new bride to return to England alone. He would know great disappointment in your choices of late.”
Beaufort smiled. “No more than I have chastised myself.”
“Then quit feeling guilty. You cannot change the course of your grandmother’s life by standing by and watching it happen.
Do what must be done and then claim a future, the one Lord Klare and the previous Lord Beaufort always wished for you.
Bring children into this world to claim this land when they are of age, and all in County Kerry will sing your praises. It will be enough, my lord.”