Chapter Twenty-Two #2
‘Not a lot of point in you traipsing all the way down here,’ Farrah replied. ‘The estate is in a state of collapse and will have to be sold. I am sorry to tell you that you have had a wasted journey.’
‘Nonsense!’ Mrs Armstrong flashed a malicious smile, and Reuben knew then that she intended to use her funds to put the property and land straight so that she and Papa could take occupation of it. She had a point to prove, if only to herself.
‘Do you really imagine that local society will open its doors to you?’ Reuben shook his head. ‘You are deluded if that is your aim. You will be ostracised. No one will want to know you. I will make sure of that.’
‘And what was to become of Mama and us?’ Farrah asked. ‘Where did we come into your plan, if indeed anywhere?’
‘What were you doing in Liverpool?’ Reuben asked when it became obvious that Dalton didn’t intend to answer Farrah’s question.
‘You might as well tell them,’ Mrs Armstrong said, appearing perfectly calm now that her secret was finally out in the open.
And well she might, Reuben thought, since she had finally got what she had always wanted.
She had separated Dalton from his family by taking matters into her own hands and forcing the issue with her presence in his part of the world.
Even in her state of shock and despair, Farrah could probably still see that it would have been deeply upsetting to be separated from the man she clearly loved just because her pedigree did not pass muster with his family.
The fact that they would be ostracised by local society did not appear to concern her one jot.
‘Helping Mrs Armstrong to extend her moneylending business into the upper classes locally,’ Dalton said, answering Farrah’s question while failing to meet her eye, clearly embarrassed by the depths he had fallen to.
‘She required a man of my stature to persuade the local gentry to put their faith in her.’ Dalton had recovered his poise and preened as he spoke, further lowering Reuben’s opinion of a weak, entitled individual whose behaviour, if made public, would bring the aristocracy into disrepute.
‘They must be desperate,’ Farrah muttered.
‘And they would keep your involvement secret,’ Reuben added. ‘No one wants to admit to being at their wits’ end.’
‘I thought you were safely tucked away in London,’ Dalton said to Farrah in an accusatory voice. ‘I would have returned before you were due to arrive, and you would have been none the wiser. Freeman sent me an express to say you had arrived early, so I came back at once.’
‘Sorry to have scuppered your plans,’ Farrah replied in a sweetly sarcastic tone. Percival sat up and barked once in support. ‘We could not stay in town since we had no funds to support us, a situation that didn’t seem to have troubled your conscience when you left us there.’
‘My credit was good,’ Dalton replied, looking everywhere except at Farrah, clearly refusing to accept responsibility for his … well, irresponsibility.
‘Well then, Dalton,’ Reuben said, standing and offering Farrah his hand to help her to her feet.
In spite of the brave face she had put on things, she was clearly still in shock and needed someone to lean on.
‘We had best return to Dalton House so that you can tell Lady Dalton what you have just told us.’
‘There is no need.’ Dalton flapped a dismissive hand. ‘She doesn’t want to see me. There’s no point anyway. You can tell her for us.’
Farrah and Reuben fixed him with identical astounded looks.
‘You cowardly, snivelling excuse for a man!’ Reuben cried, somehow managing not to resort to physical violence.
‘Face up to your responsibilities for once in your life. Drive Lady Farrah’s gig back,’ he added, his tone brooking no argument.
‘She is in no fit state to drive and will travel with me. You, madam, will remain here.’
So saying, Reuben offered Farrah his arm and escorted her from the room, Percival at their heels.
‘Are you all right?’ Reuben asked as he drove them away at a brisk pace. ‘Stupid question. Of course you are not. You have had the most terrible shock, and I admire the manner in which you absorbed the news. Your entire world is based on a falsehood and yet you maintained your composure.’
‘I have never had a high opinion of my father, but not in my wildest imaginings did I suspect the truth. He’s always come across as a cold individual who is incapable of feeling any sort of emotion.
But the manner in which he gazed at Mrs Armstrong told a very different story.
’ Farrah let out a protracted sigh. ‘Perhaps your mother is right about the power of true love, because Papa’s feelings for the lady have obviously endured for all these years.
No wonder he disappeared so frequently,’ she added bitterly. ‘He must have been with her.’
‘I am so very sorry,’ Reuben said. ‘That must sound terribly trite and inadequate, I know, but I am not sure what else to say to you. I have never encountered a situation quite like this one before.’
‘I am struggling to take it all in.’ Farrah shook her head. ‘It will destroy Mama.’
‘If your father intends to live openly with the woman, he will have to provide handsomely for your mother, your sister and you.’
‘Ha! Mrs Armstrong will provide for us, more like, and I really don’t want a penny of her guilt money.
There again, I am not so stupid as to turn it down.
I have struggled for too long to keep the family solvent, and I will not let pride stand in the way now of achieving that objective.
In some respects, it will almost be a relief not to have to worry about the upkeep of the estate and our tenants, I suppose, but I shall miss it nonetheless.
It is the only real home I have ever known. ’
‘Your feelings are conflicted.’
‘Quite.’ She paused. ‘You know, when Mr Jackson proposed, Mama insisted that I accept him on pain of being disowned. Papa tried to encourage me but did not himself insist. I overheard him and Mama arguing about the situation. She was adamant that I take the man and tried to make Papa put his foot down. If he had done so I would probably have capitulated just to keep him happy. I have never been able to impress him, perhaps now I know why, but he told Mama that the ultimate decision had to be mine.’
‘He enjoyed having the best of both worlds, one assumes, and was happy to use you as an excuse to maintain the status quo.’
Farrah nodded. ‘Papa looked fit to be tied when he entered that room and saw us there. But he still does not have the strength of character to stand up to Mrs Armstrong, perhaps because she has proof of their union that could ruin us all.’
‘Well, he has made his bed.’
Quite.’
She fell silent and was grateful that Reuben concentrated on driving, leaving her to her cogitations. He only spoke again when they arrived at Dalton House.
‘We are here,’ he said softly, jolting her out of a reverie. She blinked, wishing she’d had longer to come to terms with what she now knew so that she could prepare her mother for the shock of her life.
John Coachman appeared in the stable yard and took charge of Reuben’s team.
He looked shaken to see Farrah seated beside the duke but made no remark upon such an unorthodox arrangement.
Reuben jumped down, rounded the vehicle and held out a hand to Farrah who attempted to alight elegantly despite the fact that her world had fallen apart.
‘Ready?’ he asked, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. Percival stuck close with his tail between his legs, clearly sensing the unpleasant nature of an interview that could not be delayed.
Farrah led them into the house by a side door. They traversed a passageway that brought them to the entrance hall and the door to the drawing room in which Farrah knew her mother would be found. She paused, took a deep breath and thrust the door open.
‘Farrah, where on earth have you been?’ The countess looked up and tutted.
Then she noticed Reuben. The scolding died on her lips and was replaced by a wide smile.
‘Your grace. This is indeed an honour that I was not expecting. Unfortunately, Sophia has a head cold and has remained in bed at my insistence.’
‘The duke has not come to see Sophia, Mama.’
‘Oh, then why … Do take a seat, your grace. I will ring for refreshments.’
‘Mama, let it be.’ Farrah’s strident voice stilled Mama’s hand on the bell rope. ‘We have found Papa. He is about to join us.’
‘Oh good heavens!’
Mama did not seem especially pleased to hear the news.
She would be much less pleased when she heard Papa’s story, Farrah knew, but found it hard to feel too much sympathy for her.
All the unjust scoldings that she had endured; all the responsibility that she had been forced to shoulder in her mother’s stead; all the complaints about being badly treated; all the unflattering comparisons to her vain, selfish sister came to the fore, forcing Farrah to conclude that her mother had been at least in part responsible for her own downfall.
Farrah and Reuben had only just seated themselves when Dalton strode into the room looking even more windswept, if such a thing was possible, the floorboards creaking beneath the weight of his tread.
Farrah remained silent, watching her mother and father appraise one another almost contemptuously.
Mama then glanced at Reuben. She had dreamed of having the duke in her drawing room.
Now she probably wished him a hundred miles away.
And Farrah too. She could not speak her mind in front of an audience.
But Farrah and Reuben were going nowhere.
‘Dalton has something to tell you,’ Reuben said into the brittle silence. Percival whined and slunk down onto his belly.
‘Well?’ Mama folded her hands in her lap and looked up at her husband disdainfully. ‘What do you have to say for yourself?’