Chapter 40
Whitsonby House
Ormond Square
Cam grabbed her sister’s shoulders and shook her.
“Stop it! Shut up, Eliza, and listen to me. You will not swoon again. Not one more word or shriek or foot stomping out of you, do you hear me? I’m bigger than you and I swear I will sit on you.
Yes, Averil is gone, with a man, Gerrod Bartsleigh, you know the degenerate you flirted with before you met Winstead.
Yes, she stole Father’s money and all the jewels including the Whitsonby emeralds.
It doesn’t matter, she’s gone. Like to like and good riddance. ”
Eliza held her sides, moaned, “No, no, you’ll see, we are all ruined, there is nothing we can do, it’s all over. Winstead will leave me, he—”
Cam shook her again. “Would you please stop moaning and think? You have a brain. I’m telling you we will not be mocked or laughed at, ostracized. Nothing bad will happen. If anyone says anything at all, it will be with great sympathy. But I’m wagering no one will say a word.”
“Are you insane? Yes, I have a brain but obviously you don’t.
Everyone who counts will laugh at us, particularly Father.
Sympathy? Society has never felt that sentiment, ever.
Society wants only scandal and this is perfect.
” Pause. Eliza searched her sister’s face.
She said slowly, “What do you mean? Sympathy?”
“Good, now you are listening to me. At this exact moment at all the balls, the soirees and dining rooms there will be gossip all right, but said in lowered voices since it’s so very sad, so very difficult to speak about—Averil, my poor father’s new wife, succumbed to her family’s strain of madness.
She fell into deep melancholia and our physician—Father has already secured his cooperation, promising, I doubt not, countless recommendations, probably excessive remuneration as well.
In any case, Mr. Wicks could do nothing for her.
Indeed, he recommended she be sent back to Leeds, to her precious family.
In her profound depression, after her fits of trying to pull out her hair and screaming, once even trying to harm herself, her family was all she could talk about, incessantly, how she loved the moors, the only place where she could find peace. ”
Eliza stared at her. “But that’s ridiculous, Averil wasn’t mad. She was a cheap harlot. I knew Father shouldn’t wed with a lady so much younger than he, but—oh.”
“Eliza, yes, good, you understand. Now, it doesn’t matter what she was—is. What is important is the poor woman is on her way back to northern England to live in the bosom of her remaining family, and they will tend to her and keep her madness inside the family.”
“Bu-but how?”
“Father spent the evening at White’s, let his friends convince him to tell them what worried him so profoundly.
Father finally gave in and told his closest friends at White’s about his wife’s madness, hidden from him while he courted her, but he saw her slowly change, saw the episodes of screaming, of deep melancholia.
” Cam gave her a huge grin. “Father told me he’d practiced before he went.
Everyone believed him. He told me he was now an accomplished liar, and it felt very good. ”
Cam rose, studied her sister’s face. “Now do you understand? All will commiserate with us because, as you know, there’s been so much inbreeding in Society for so very long, many noble families have a relative who is quite mad.
And what does one do with a mad relative?
It’s the attic or a small house with a caretaker somewhere in the country, or a family willing to take the relative, like dear Averil.
” Cam dusted her hands, gave her sister a big smile.
“Be prepared to look sad if anyone in Society offers you sympathy for our family’s dreadful travails, that is, if they’re not too reticent to remark upon it.
Do you now understand we’ll be pitied, not laughed at?
Our father will not be mocked. All will shake their heads.
All will be well. Now, I expect you to order Claudine to keep her mouth shut on pain of dismissal or being sent to the guillotine. ”
Eliza said, eyes cold, “Oh yes, I’ll order her to keep quiet, she’ll obey me—oh dear, all the servants, you know they all gossip, it’s—” And she wailed, actually wailed.
Be patient, be patient. “Eliza, none of our people will ever say a word. You know they are completely loyal to Father. Osbourne assures us they will guard this secret to their dying days. Now, it is up to you to make sure Claudine keeps her mouth shut.” Pause.
She watched her sister take in everything she’d said.
She could practically see her mind working it all out, to her advantage.
She slowly nodded. “I will tell Claudine if she ever says anything to anyone, even her mother, I will find out and I will see to it she never gets another post, I will hound her to the ends of England, I will—hmm, I wonder if I will ever tell Winstead the truth.”
“Perhaps in ten years, you could tell him. All right, Eliza? Are you all right now? Set on an excellent new path?”
Eliza said slowly, “All was lost and then you came home when you weren’t supposed to and everything changed. It was you, wasn’t it, Cam? You told Father what we would do to escape being ostracized and laughed at. And you know Winstead would have left me, he—”
“No, he never would have left you. And now, Winstead will come, he will commiserate with you. He will vow eternal devotion to you if only you will smile at him, assure him Averil’s madness has nothing to do with us. We do not share her blood.
“Now, I must change. It has been a very long day. Cilly and I very much enjoyed riding the train. It took only eight hours to get to London. It’s magic, Eliza.
” She paused, her eyes narrowed. “Now, speak to Claudine.” She walked to the door, turned.
“Osbourne told me Winstead is coming to dinner tomorrow night. You will be downcast and will tell him of Averil’s madness, which I’m sure he’s already heard about from many sources.
Perhaps you can embellish a bit, talk about how she would fall silent, or walk from room to room muttering to herself.
You can do it. Who knows, perhaps he will bring it up.
If he doesn’t, then you will. You will sob, if you wish, produce some tears if you can.
Winstead will commiserate. He will clasp you to his manly bosom and assure you he loves you and will always take care of you. ”
Eliza pondered this. “Yes, actually you’re exactly right. He will be perfectly understanding of my pain and reassure me.”
“Excellent, threaten Claudine with bread and water in the attic, and all is done. Oh yes, one more thing—I’m going to marry Alex Ivanov who is really Lord Graham, Viscount Whitestone, heir to Earl St. Lucy.”
She left Eliza’s bedroom, nearly dancing down the hallway when she heard Eliza shriek.