A War by Diplomacy Page 5

  “We used to have a crypt or tomb or something where the original earls had their castle, but, for some reason that I don’t understand, my great grandfather discontinued the practice of burying our family members there and now the churchyard here suffices.

  “What a lecture! I don’t know what came over me. We really should get on.”

  The carriages took them in a long loop to the manor house, on the way crossing a bridge over the river which had not been visible from the view point. As they were crossing the bridge, Giles remarked, “Do you see that old mill over there? I spent a lot of time fishing in the mill pond when I was a boy.” It was the only landmark he pointed out. It seemed to Daphne that he was sinking deeper and deeper into gloom as they neared the Abbey.

  When they arrived at the house, it was evident that it was in mourning. Black crepe draped the portico and the doors were dotted with black cloth rosettes. The front door opened as the carriage drew to a halt and a footman came forward to open the door. Behind him a butler stood at attention. Daphne alighted first, followed by Giles who then took the lead.

  “Georgeson,” he greeted the butler. “It’s a long time since I last saw you.”

  “Yes, my lord,” was the reply. “Welcome home, even for such a sad occasion.”

  “Thank you. This is my wife, Lady Giles.”

  The rest of the party had stepped from their coach as this exchange was taking place.

  “I don’t know if you knew Lady Marianne, Georgeson” Giles continued.

  “No, my lord, she had left Ashbury Abbey before I took up my position here.”

  “Well then, this is she. And her daughters, Miss Crocker and Miss Lydia Crocker. Is the Earl at home?”

  “No sir. We are not even certain that he will be attending the funeral. The Countess is in the drawing room. I will announce you.”

  The butler led the way, threw open a door and announced, “Viscount Ashton, my lady, and Lady Ashton, Lord David, Lady Marianne, Miss Crocker and Miss Lydia Crocker.”

  The Countess rose from the armchair in which she had been sitting. The gentlemen bowed, the ladies curtsied and the Countess herself responded with a slight curtsey.

  “Richard, I am so glad that you have come. I wasn’t sure that you would. It seems so strange to have you announced as Viscount Ashton. Daphne! Let me welcome you to Ashbury Abbey. And David and Marianne. It is a sad occasion, but at least we are all gathered together. I don’t know whether the Earl will come or not.”

  “Are any of Ashton’s friends coming, mother,” asked Giles.

  “Not that I know of. Or Thomas’s, though a Captain Gregg arrived this morning to represent his regiment. He is away somewhere, but should be back for tea and dinner.”

  The conversation turned first to the deaths of the two brothers. Nothing more was known about Ashton’s accident. He was riding alone, following a night of drinking and gambling, with substantial losses, his solicitor had reported. Details about Thomas’s duel remained unknown. The bodies had already arrived at Ashbury and all was ready for the funeral the next day.

  “I am afraid, David, that Mr. Medcraft, the rector, insists on conducting the service. I imagine he expects a big fee from the Earl, in which case he is in for a surprise.”

  “That is fine by me, Mother,” responded Lord David. “I had no desire to officiate.”

  The group conversation then broke up. The countess singled out Daphne, and their discussion turned to the gardens, with Lady Camshire regretting that her plantings looked rather woebegone relative to what she had seen at Dipton. “I don’t have the people, you know, to keep the beds properly in order or to tidy up the shrubs,” she explained. The others talked about what they remembered of their childhoods at the Abbey and about their secret places and forbidden activities. The two girls listened spellbound; it was a side of their mother that they had never seen, and they stored up her stories for use when next she tried to discipline them.

  Sometime later they were joined by Captain Gregg.

  “What a beautiful village you have here, Lady Camshire,” he enthused after being introduced to the others. “The well-cover is most picturesque and of course the church is outstanding. Good pub, too, the Camshire Arms!”

  Before more comments could be made, Georgeson announced dinner. It would be held in a small dining room, not in the hall which was only used for very large gatherings. The discussion of Amesbury continued through much of the meal, providing a convenient way to avoid thinking about the reason they were all together. Captain Gregg turned out to be not only interested in the details of Amesbury and its Abbey, but also to have a fund of knowledge about the typical construction of castles and houses from different periods and even of the dwellings of the less fortunate. They did not tarry over the meal, however, and soon the Countess led the ladies away. When the three men had gathered at one end of the table, and had poured glasses of port, Captain Gregg took the lead.

  “I am glad that I am able to see you, Viscount Ashton, and you, Lord David, before your father arrives.”

  “If he arrives,” muttered Lord David.

  “Quite. You may not know, Viscount Ashton, that your brother very much admired you.”

  “Please call me ‘Captain Giles’, Captain Gregg. I don’t use my titles among military men. No, I was not aware of that. I am afraid that I have seen very little of Thomas in the past ten years.”

  “Oh, yes, he followed your career eagerly and was always reciting the more important features of it in the mess. Rather enviously, I must confess. He would say, ‘Look at what my brother Richard has done. Been in another fight and will get a great deal of prize money. I would never guess that he had it in him. If my idiot of a father had let me go to sea instead of buying me a commission, that could have been me. I am afraid that your brother was rather abrasive, not the most popular man in the mess by any means, but that is beside the point.

  “My colonel asked me to represent the Regiment at the funeral, not only out of respect for a comrade, but also to talk to you.”

  “Yes?”

  “You may not know it, but, Captain Giles – oh what confusion all these similar names can cause – our Captain Giles made you his heir. Not that there is much to inherit, because there are some unpaid bills and other debts, I know, and Tom was not one to save money. There are also some delicate matters that have to be attended to…”

  “Yes, spit it out, man.”

  “Yes. Ah, my colonel wants you to come to the regimental headquarters, in Laidsburg, you know. It’s in Hampshire. To see about straightening things out.”

  “I don’t know if I can. I have to join my ship shortly. Couldn’t my man of business handle whatever there is to do?”

  “My colonel foresaw that might be your wish. He strongly suggested that it would be best if you could at least see what the situation is yourself.”

  “Then, I suppose that I must. I have already had a note from my brother Ashton’s solicitor that he has some matters that would be best handled in person, especially as my personal response would be needed quickly. It’s all very mysterious. What in the world did my brothers get up to, I wonder. I’ll come, if at all possible, but, if I cannot, then you will have to make do with Mr. Edwards, my prize agent.”

  A noise broke out at that point coming from the Abbey’s entrance way. A moment later the door to the dining room was flung open and in marched the Earl of Camshire. The three men rose to their feet.

  “There you all are, guzzling my port, I see. And you, Richard -- or do you think I should call you Sir Richard? – trying to take my place before I’m dead. Well, you will just have to wait! If it weren’t for the entail, you would never get any of this,” declared the Earl. “Georgeson, get me some food and some proper wine. But a new glass first. Hurry, man.”

  The Earl sat in the place which Giles vacated, and poured himself a full glass of port. As the others resumed their seats, he kept up his monologue.

  “I would have been here earlier if my
damn horse had not lost a shoe near Braxleford. The fool of a blacksmith there had let his fire go out, so it took a long time to get the horse shod again. The inn there is atrocious. Made me a Welsh rarebit that I could hardly eat. Had the ugliest barmaid you ever saw. Certainly not good enough to make me stay the night so I came on here. Their sack* was good, at least after the third bumper*.”

  The Earl paused to down his glass of port before pouring another one and continuing with a sneer, “Well, Viscount Ashton, so you are now my heir as well as Ashton’s. Not that it will do you much good. It’s all entailed, of course, but we have both borrowed against the income as much as we can, and your mother is due a third of the income in any case. You just didn’t think about how you were cutting off your own nose when you got all prim and proper about Captain Hoxley and stopped his privateering, did you? A quiet word with him would have lined your own pocket and kept my money coming from the venture.”

  Giles had recently exposed the man being referred to by the Earl as a pirate and a traitor.

  “Father, the man was a pirate.”

  “Didn’t matter. He was paying me good money, you sanctimonious turd.”

  “And you, David,” he continued turning to his other son. “Just as stupid as your brother. Taking a country living and not even getting a curate, I hear. That is no way to become a bishop! Bishops’ emoluments are big, and they have any number of other ways to use their position and influence to make more. While you, you just sit around giving sermons.”

  Giles rose to his feet. “Father since you cannot keep a civil tongue in your head, I am joining the ladies. I imagine the others are too.”

  Lord David and Captain Gregg immediately rose to their feet and joined Giles, leaving their glasses unfinished.

  “I must apologize for my father, Captain Gregg,” Giles said loudly before they reached the door. “I am afraid that he is always like this.”

  In the drawing room, it was evident that the Countess was on edge, possibly guessing at how the Earl had already behaved and fearful that he would continue his assault on everyone when he had finished the decanter of port and the other bottle that he had told Georgeson to bring him. Daphne was most sensitive to the Countess’s unhappiness and almost at once apologized that she was exhausted from the trip and would retire. Giles promptly asserted that he would accompany her upstairs. Lady Marianne declared that she and her daughters were tired and urged the Countess that she needed rest. Captain Gregg had no desire to remain in order to discover how the Earl might choose to insult him or his regiment.

  The Earl missed breakfast the next morning and even had to hurry after the others as they walked to the service. The mortician had already placed the caskets in the church. The party from the Abbey were the only mourners, aside from the servants who had been ordered by Georgeson to attend. The minister had arranged for the organist and choir to be present and they did their best to fill the empty church with doleful music. The Reverend Mr. Medcraft preached a long, tedious sermon which no one listened to except Lord David, and he only did so to get ideas in case he was ever called upon to officiate at a funeral with no genuine mourners. Lord David concluded that, if he were ever faced with the problem, brevity would be the most welcome aspect of any sermon he delivered, a feature which Mr. Medcraft’s effort sadly lacked.

  Georgeson had arranged for two of the footmen to act as a pall bearers with himself and he was joined by Giles and Lord David. Captain Gregg was pressed into service when the Earl refused to take any role. With the appropriate words of Mr. Medcraft, the coffins were lowered into the ground and all that remained was the ceremonial throwing of the first handfuls of dirt into the graves. The earth was damp and the Earl, who led the way, first compressed the earth into hard balls and then flung them onto the coffins as if he were trying to break them apart. He had already spoken to a groom and had his horse ready as soon as they reached the churchyard gate. Off he went, leaving the poor Countess to act as host for the others who had come for her step-sons’ internments.

  The memorial gathering after the funeral was not a lengthy affair. It’s most notable feature was how few reminiscences there were of the brothers. Daphne insisted that the Countess should visit Dipton Hall in the immediate future, and would not take ‘no’ for an answer. Daphne had for the first time realized how lonely the Countess’s existence at Ashbury Abbey must be and she herself would be quite glad of more company when Giles was away. Besides which, she knew that her father rather liked the Countess.

  Chapter VI

  “Damnation!” Giles exclaimed as he put down a letter he had just received.

  “What is it?” Daphne looked up from a letter she was reading.

  “Ashton wants to take up even more of my precious time before I have to sail.”

  “What is it now?”

  “Edwards has confirmed what that ass of a solicitor said about it being desirable if I stopped in town to see about some of Ashton’s more private affairs. Add that to my need to visit Thomas’s regiment and the trip to Butler’s Hard is going to take two full days more than it should. “

  “So when do you have to leave?”

  “I need to be in Butler’s Hard by Thursday morning.”

  “So, you will have to leave on Monday. That is terribly soon. I knew, of course, that you would have to go, but I was just ignoring the fact. We have almost no more time together! Can I come with you? Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. Three more days and maybe some of Thursday. Oh, it would be wonderful to have the extra time together, even though you will be busy.”

  “It would be fine by me, but I hope you won’t get bored. Actually, Lady Ashton, it would be a good idea for you to know all about these problems so that you can give Mr. Edwards guidance when I am away.”

  “Am I now Lady Ashton? I am not even used to being Lady Giles. I don’t feel like a Vicountess. I am still just me. However, I do think it would be a good idea to spend the rest of today riding around the estates, so that you can give me any extra instructions you think of before you go to Russia.”

  “Glad to, but we both know who actually manages the estates. I just make suggestions. With Ashton Place coming on board, you really should think some more about getting professional managers for you to oversee.”

  “Ashton Place?”

  “Yes, Ashton Place is the ancestral home of the Viscounts Ashton. There is a house, I think, and some tenant farms. That is probably partly what this lawyer is on about. And, yes, you are now Lady Ashton, or, if you prefer a bigger mouthful, I suppose that you could be called Lady Daphne Giles, Vicountess Ashton, but I think Lady Giles will do if you want. You can ask Steves. I am sure he knows the proper forms of address.”

  “It was simpler when I was just Miss Moorhouse.”

  “It was, but I am very glad that you are no longer Miss Moorhouse.”

  The trip to London was much less fascinating for Daphne than her previous journey, and she settled into Nerot’s Hotel as if it were a second home. The morning found them taking a hackney cab to an address in Holborn near Chancery Lane. They found the address to be in a dirty brick building with windows that must have dated from more than a century ago. A brass plaque announced that the chambers of Snodgrass and Delancey lay within. Mounting to the second floor, they were ushered into a large room lit by dirty windows. There they were greeted by a red-faced, portly man with mutton-chop whiskers and a serious look belied by the smile lines about his mouth and crinkles about his eyes.

  “Lord Ashton, Lady Ashton. I am Jeremy Snodgrass. My grandfather, my father, and now I have acted as solicitors for the Earls of Camshire, and I have also managed the legal affairs of your half-brothers. Thank you for coming so promptly. It will help immensely. I need to read your half-brother’s will to you and then go over some rather tricky matters.” The will was simple and left everything to Giles, referred to in the document as “my snot-nosed toady of a step-brother, Richard.” Mr. Snodgrass rather stumbled over that part of the reading.

&nbs
p; “Almost everything is entailed so your brother only had a life-interest in Ashton Place and its income. I am afraid that he borrowed heavily against that annual income. In fact, his own revenues will not cover the debts and they do fall to his heir. They are at a scandalous interest rate, fourteen percent. Ashton Place is leased, and the rent is paid until Michaelmas. The tenant has paid without fail, on time, so far, so I don’t think you need worry about that. The late Lord Aston had borrowed against that income also for the next year. He did have an account at Coutts’s bank, but it is overdrawn. There are also some gambling debts to various gentlemen. I believe that most of them have already shown me the notes he gave to cover his debts, but there still may be some that I don’t know about. Of course, gambling debts are not collectable really, but they certainly would be regarded as debts of honor that his heir should repay. He also has a lease on a house in St. James’s which runs to Lady Day in two years’ time. The rent on that property is past due. There is some furniture in it that belonged to your brother, I understand. Your Mr. Edwards looked into those premises and tells me that there are some difficulties with breaking the lease or making use of the house for your own purposes. Another debt of honor, I believe. So I am afraid, Lord Ashton, that there is no good news for the immediate future, though when it is all straightened out, you will have a handsome income from Ashton.”

  “I suppose. Is Ashton Place mine automatically or does it formally revert to my father?”

  “It is yours. It is a very complicated entail. I imagine that your grandfather, who strengthened and extended its terms had a low opinion of his son’s – your father’s – ability to manage his affairs. The property automatically goes to Lord Camshire’s oldest son over the age of twenty-one as does the title. They are not really in your father’s gift – and never were.”