Chapter 1
East Devon – January 1854
Edwin Farringdon had much to consider as with faithful black Labrador Ellery by his side, he made his way down the sunken lane where frost still gathered in pockets. His meeting with Quarry Manager, Tom Wakeley, had not gone well. Not only were the workers demanding an immediate increase in wages, they wanted him to pay for the tallow candles they used to light their way underground, which, at five each per day, would be no mean amount. He conceded their point that the cost of living was spiralling, but wasn’t it for everyone? Whilst there’d been a resurgence in both the building of churches and renovation of the older ones and the order book looked healthy, customers took time to settle their bills. However, priding himself on being a fair employer, he’d agreed to give the matter serious consideration.
With these problems weighing heavily on his mind, he found himself back on the estate before he realised. Nettlecombe Manor nestled in the shelter of surrounding hills at the head of a long combe that led down to the sea. Yet today, even the sight of the elegant symmetry and tall chimneys of the Jacobean building, its grey stones and mullioned windows bathed in the rosy glow of the setting winter sun, failed to lift his spirits. In truth, since marrying his second wife Charlotte, he no longer found his home the haven it had once been. Keen to show off her standing in society, she was forever changing the layout of the house, purchasing new furnishings and fripperies which were not to his taste but also unnecessary. And whilst he loved his eldest daughter Louisa May dearly, her forthcoming betrothal would necessitate yet more expense.
‘Oh Beatrice, why did you have to leave?’ he cried. Ellery, recognising the name of his dear departed mistress, peered up at him through his one good eye and whined. ‘I know, old boy, I know,’ he sighed, ruffling the dog’s silky ears and noting with sadness the increasing number of grey hairs around his chin. As if sensing his master’s misery, the dog gave another whimper and brushed against his leg.
‘I guess we’re both past our prime,’ Edwin murmured, pulling his woollen coat closer as a gust of wind cut through him. His monthly inspection of the great subterranean caverns didn’t usually affect him, but today it had left him weary and chilled to the bone.
‘They say there’s no fool like an old fool and I’ve certainly proved that, haven’t I?’ As his loyal friend barked in agreement, Edwin recalled the events that had changed his life seven years previously.
Whilst on business at the Inns of Court in London, he’d been introduced to the beautiful Charlotte Calveleigh, daughter of his solicitor. She’d flirted and flattered him, and being much younger at twenty-four to his forty-three years, her attraction to him had gone to his head. Bereft after his cherished wife’s sudden death, he’d succumbed to her charms and, on a mad impulse, had proposed only a few months later and brought her home to Nettlecombe in East Devonshire.
From that moment, she’d become quite capricious and he never knew what mood she would be in when he returned home. She seemed to think that owning a manor house meant he had unlimited funds when, in truth, its upkeep took almost all the income the estate and quarry brought in. Once when he’d endeavoured explaining, she’d waved such talk away as if it was distasteful and carried on purchasing as if it were her right, adding friction to their already strained relationship. It hadn’t helped that she’d failed to give him the male heir he so desperately needed to ensure that Nettlecombe remained in the family. Now he had five daughters to provide for and, whilst he adored them all, it seemed the curse the gypsies bestowed upon the Farringdon dynasty had come true.
Then, like an arrow piercing his brain, realisation hit him and he stopped abruptly, causing Ellery to stare back at him in surprise. When had he last paid a visit to her chamber? Whilst she was always obliging when he did, it had to be admitted such occasions were inevitably followed by demands for some new acquisition or other. Clearly things needed to change. Tonight, he would go to her room and then, if the luck of the gods was with him, he’d sire a son.
Feeling happier, he hurried along the wide driveway lined with magnificent lime trees that would soon be bursting with buds of new life, on past the manicured gardens that spread out on each side. It might only be January and freezing cold, but he could almost smell spring in the air. A time of hope and renewal, he thought, mounting the granite steps and entering through the studded front door.
‘Her ladyship is waiting for you in the Ruby Room, my lord,’ the butler announced, taking his cane, gloves and outer clothes from him.
‘Thank you, Ferris,’ he replied, resigned to the fact that, in her endeavours to outclass Lady Connaught who referred to her rooms by the colour of their furnishings, Charlotte had insisted theirs be named after precious stones.
Purposefully, he strode along the hallway flanked by elaborate oak panelling, the sound of Ellery’s paws cushioned by the recently laid plush Axminster carpet. His ancestors seemed to frown down at him from their ornate frames and with every step he felt responsibility for the future of Nettlecombe settle heavier on his shoulders. As he shook his head to dispel more dismal thoughts, his attention was caught by something glinting on the marble table.
‘I don’t remember that clock being here before,’ he said, turning to the butler.
‘No, my lord, it was delivered this morning soon after you left. I believe her ladyship commissioned its design.’ Glowering at the garish domed timepiece surrounded by grinning cherubs, Edwin entered the room he still thought of as the parlour.
‘There you are at last,’ his wife greeted him impatiently. She was reclining on the chaise longue that was drawn up in front of the fire, the bright flames tinting her fair hair golden. ‘Nanny has already taken Sarah and Maria for their tea.’
‘I’ll go up and see them later, my dear,’ he assured her, but she wasn’t to be placated.
‘How many times must I tell you not to bring that creature in here?’ she remonstrated, glaring at Ellery as he flopped down on the rug beside the hearth.
‘Don’t be beastly, Step Mama,’ Bea cried. At seventeen, she had the same sense of fairness as her papa and was never afraid to voice her thoughts. ‘I expect you’re worn out from that walk up the lane, aren’t you, old boy,’ she crooned, springing out of her chair to stroke the dog’s coat. Edwin smiled, for like her mother, the youngest daughter from his first marriage loved all animals.
‘I don’t know why you had to go and see that wretched man when your eldest daughter has just become betrothed and there is much to plan.’ As Charlotte continued her rant, Edwin couldn’t fail to notice the emphasis she placed on the word ‘your’.
‘What is the point of employing a quarry manager if you still have to oversee the work yourself?’ Her disparaging look emphasised the lines of discontent etched around her mouth, and again Edwin found himself making unfavourable comparisons between her and his first wife. Mild in manner, Beatrice had always listened to his problems, considering them at length before offering words of support and encouragement. He couldn’t understand why memories of her were plaguing him today for he was a loyal man and, despite everything, he was still fond of Charlotte. Turning to his two older daughters, Louisa, who was twenty, and Victoria, eighteen, who were sitting together on the burgundy button-backed sofa, dark eyes staring sympathetically at him, he gave them a surreptitious wink.
‘You must be excited, Louisa,’ he said, trying to inject some cheerfulness into the proceedings.
‘Captain Beauchamp is so handsome,’ Bea cried, throwing her arms around herself and making them laugh.
‘He is,’ Louisa agreed, a flush creeping up her cheeks. ‘And yes, Papa, I am excited. Except, Step Mama wishes to hold a grand ball for my betrothal.’ Louisa’s expression told him quite clearly what she thought of that idea.
‘Indeed, I do. Such an occasion should be celebrated in style, do you not agree, Edwin?’ Charlotte asked. Although this was phrased as a question, it was clear his wife considered it a fait accompli. ‘A notice should be placed in The Times. Society needs to be informed of the betrothal of your eldest daughter to Captain Henry Beauchamp of Woolbrooke House. Goodness, we shall have to commission a special console table on which to display all the presents people will send and—’
‘Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself, my dear?’ Edwin interrupted. ‘Captain Beauchamp only spoke with me last evening.’
‘Henry is visiting his parents today,’ Louisa added, smiling gratefully at him. ‘I am invited to luncheon on Saturday and will spend the weekend meeting his wider family.’
‘Then I shall need to accompany you,’ Charlotte cried.
‘Actually, Step Mama, I thought I’d take Vanny to help me dress and see to my hair. You know I’m all fingers and thumbs when I’m nervous,’ Louisa said quickly, looking at Edwin for support.
‘Good idea to take your maid along,’ he agreed. ‘You will understandably wish to look your best, although you have nothing to worry about on that score,’ he added, patting his daughter’s shoulder reassuringly. Her dark hair neatly coiled at the nape of her neck emphasised her fine bone structure and he couldn’t help but admire her composure as she sought to make her wishes clear, in that quiet yet steely determined way she had. ‘And of course, Vanny will see you come to no harm.’
‘Henry said his parents will issue a formal invitation for you to join them at Woolbrooke very soon, Step Mama. They like to do things properly,’ she added as Charlotte opened her mouth to protest.
‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ the woman murmured, somewhat mollified. ‘However, it is important you establish what alterations you require made to the building so they can be carried out before you take up residence. Of course, I am best placed to assist you there for I well remember when I first saw this old place…’
‘Really, Charlotte, I don’t think there is any need for Louisa to worry about such things now,’ Edwin interjected. ‘I was given to understand there will be an engagement period of at least a year.’
‘Yes, but Victoria is to make her London debut this May and I will be required to present her at Court.’ Edwin turned his attention to his second daughter who raised her brow and shrank back in her seat. Pretty, with chestnut curls framing her heart-shaped face, she was the least confident of his daughters and had no interest in society matters. Edwin could tell the idea didn’t fill her with joy and vowed to speak with her in private, for the happiness of his family was paramount.
‘It will necessitate us being fitted for an entire new wardrobe,’ Charlotte continued.
‘I am sure we can ask the dressmaker to visit,’ Edwin agreed, trying not to think of the cost.
‘Hardly, Edwin. It will be necessary to have a whole collection of couture clothing,’ Charlotte continued, barely able to suppress her exasperation. ‘Ladies in the city dress à la mode and there will be all manner of balls and parties to attend. My dear sister Emmeline has offered to accommodate us for the season. It is vital Victoria be introduced to as many eligible titled gentlemen as possible in order to make a suitable marriage.’
‘Good heavens, Step Mama, you can’t wait to get rid of us, can you?’ Bea exclaimed, jumping to her feet in dismay.
‘How can you say such a thing?’ Charlotte whispered, her hand going to her heart. ‘I only want the best for you.’
‘Yes, that was quite out of order, Bea,’ Edwin remonstrated, although privately he agreed with her. He’d felt for some time that his wife favoured her two daughters and it did seem as if she was planning for the precipitate departure of his own. ‘Apologise to your step mama.’
‘I apologise for not thinking of the outcome my words would have,’ Bea murmured and Edwin had to turn away to hide his smile. Undoubtedly, his youngest possessed a better command of the English language than his wife, for, placated, Charlotte nodded.
‘Apology accepted. Although by now you should be better able to control your emotions. In fact, your outburst merely goes to show that you need further schooling.’
‘Oh really? And no doubt you have something in mind?’ she demanded, blue eyes deepening to navy as she stood, hands on hips, glaring at her stepmother.
‘Indeed, I have. An academy for young ladies will teach you to manage that wilful temper and acquire the finesse and etiquette befitting a young lady. Then, perhaps you too can make a suitable marriage.’ Seeing Bea about to explode, Edwin thought it prudent to intervene.
‘Why don’t we put plans of the future aside and enjoy a family evening together?’ he suggested. As his daughters nodded their approval, a pang shot through him for he was suddenly aware how grown-up they had become. Soon they would be living their own lives and gatherings such as this would be a thing of the past.
‘But we need to discuss ball gowns and suchlike,’ Charlotte protested, her lips set in a disgruntled moue.
‘Well, never having worn one myself, I don’t think I’d be much authority on the subject.’ Edwin grinned, endeavouring to lighten the mood. As he’d hoped, the girls giggled, making facetious remarks and outrageous suggestions.
‘When you’ve all quite finished,’ Charlotte cried, spots of anger burning her cheeks. Knowing the evening would degenerate if he didn’t intervene and remembering his earlier resolve, Edwin held up his hands.
‘You’re right of course, my dear,’ he acceded. ‘Time to change for dinner, girls. I understand Mrs Cookson has prepared a special dessert.’
‘You spoil them, Edwin,’ his wife sighed as, with squeals of delight, they hurried from the room.
‘And why not?’ he smiled. ‘Ah good, it’s that time,’ he added, as Ferris silently appeared and went over to the drinks cabinet. Like all good butlers, he was well trained and prided himself on anticipating his employer’s needs.
As they sipped their pre-prandial drinks, Edwin felt a frisson of excitement as he waited for a suitable time to raise the subject uppermost in his mind.
‘I really should go and change,’ Charlotte stated finally, beginning to rise to her feet.
‘Later, my dear, if you feel you must, for really you look quite lovely as you are,’ he told her. ‘As you always do, of course.’
‘Oh, do you think so?’ She beamed, patting her sleek hair. ‘Of course, one has to persevere, keep up with the latest looks. I was talking to Lady Connaught on this very subject and she recommended a marvellous corse— er, dressmaker, a Madame Pittier in Exeter and—’ Edwin leaned forward and gently placed a finger on her lips.
‘I was actually thinking of something else,’ he told her.
‘Oh yes, the ball,’ she replied, sitting back in her seat and sipping daintily at her drink. ‘We really do need to make arrangements. Time passes so quickly.’
‘Yes, it does,’ he agreed, putting down his glass and moving closer. ‘Which is why, my darling, I shall be paying you a visit later,’ he murmured, giving her a meaningful look. There was a pause and he could almost hear her mind calculating what would be in it for her, before she gazed coyly up at him from under her lashes.
‘Goodness, Edwin, what a surprise. It has been so long, I rather thought…’ she stopped then murmured breathlessly. ‘I rather thought you’d decided you no longer found me desirable.’ As she stared at him wide eyed, her cheeks flushed like a ripe cherry, despite everything, Edwin felt his pulses quicken.
