Sleepless in Southampton by Chasity Bowlin

Chapter Eleven

“Good evening, Edward,” Horatia said as she entered her brother’s study. He was seated at his desk, already dressed for dinner, and enjoying a brandy.

“Do tell,” he said, gesturing toward the drink. “What brings you here, Horatia?”

Horatia stepped deeper into the room. “I don’t wish to upset Cecile, but I felt compelled to ask how Philippa is doing. How she is really doing, Edward?”

He sighed wearily. “I do not know. This new physician swears she will improve but I do not see any evidence of it. He cautions us to be patient but I am nearing the end of mine.”

“And this companion of hers? Miss Upchurch? What do you know of her?”

“Very little,” the duke confessed with a soft laugh. “She is one of Henry’s strays. When he was a boy it was wounded birds and pups. Now it is young women stranded by the death of their employers.”

“Is her story not somewhat suspect?” Horatia questioned. “I have never known Lady Parkhurst to employ the services of a companion. She was such a particular person that I would have thought she would not hire someone so very… well, I do not wish to speak ill of the girl.”

“So very what? What is she, Horatia?” he asked.

“Why are you impatient? Brother, I have never known you to be so cross.”

“You’re here to complain about Miss Upchurch. I’ve already had conversations with Henry because he has doubts about Dr. Blake and your Mr. Carlton. I simply don’t wish to be bothered with it all!” he snapped. “Can’t a man have some peace in his own household for pity’s sake?”

“Well, I’m terribly sorry, Edward. But you are the head of the family. Being bothered is part and parcel with that position,” Horatia pointed out. “Now, about Miss Upchurch. She is illegitimate. Raised in that school for girls where we honestly have no notion what sort of radical ideas have been put in her head. Are you certain she’s a good influence on Philippa?”

“Frankly, I’d be happy if Philippa were to display some gumption to do something inappropriate! Not too inappropriate mind you, but the girl is like a ghost these days! If I didn’t know better—” He broke off abruptly, running his fingers through his hair.

“What is it, Edward?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was laudanum. She sleeps for days on end. Always tired, always quiet and subdued. What sort of life is it that she’s living?”

Horatia sighed. “She will recover… eventually. She will, Edward. And in the meantime, you must not let this girl sway her to a path that would see her ruined. I caution you, Edward, to think of her future.”

“I will investigate Miss Upchurch further, Horatia, and determine if aught must be done,” he replied defeatedly.

“That is all I ask, Brother. We must all make sacrifices for the sake of family. Henry seems to be overly fond of the girl.”

“You will leave Henry to me,” Edward insisted. “I can handle him.”

*

William was waitingpatiently for Horatia to return from her brother’s study. He’d hatched a plan to recover some ground. That plan hinged on pitting the viscount and his uncle against one another. She was key to its efficacy. She’d gone to see the duke to offer a well-timed warning about the possible dangers that Miss Upchurch could present. It was the first step in a much larger goal. When at last she entered the drawing room and offered him a nod and a smile, he breathed a sigh of relief. Immediately, he crossed the expanse of the room to her and bowed over her hand.

“My darling, Horatia, I feel like it’s been ages.”

“I, too, dear William,” she agreed.

“Would you care to take a turn in the garden before dinner?”

“That would be lovely!”

Leading her to a set of French doors that opened onto the terrace, they stepped out into the evening air. It was still quite warm, muggy even, and not at all comfortable.

“I did it. I spoke with him. He says he will look into her,” Horatia said as soon as they were outside. “Whatever is the matter?”

“That girl is an opportunist. An adventuress!” William said. “She means to trap your nephew into marriage. I do not think looking into it will be quite enough.”

“Well, as he wishes to marry her, I hardly think her plan constitutes a trap,” Horatia replied, a snap to her tone. “Why have you taken her in such instant dislike? I trust and defer to your judgment on the matter, of course, but is there some reason?”

William considered lying, but the truth, so long as it was carefully edited, would be more effective. “When I was a young man, just making my fortune, Horatia, I was not wise to the ways of the world and I was led astray by a shameful woman… a woman much like Miss Upchurch. It took years to recover financially from the havoc she wreaked in my life and longer still to recover from the emotional and mental toll her lies and betrayals wrought. I would spare your nephew that fate if I could—and the rest of you. It could be damaging to your entire family, after all.”

Horatia reached for his hand. “Oh, William… you are so kind and so generous. I know that you would spare Henry such a fate, but he is a stubborn, stubborn boy! We may hold no sway over him at this point. It appears this young woman has well and truly gotten her claws into him.”

“Well, I have my suspicions about this school of hers,” he said. “I think that requires further probing. But there is something else we can do in the interim.” He needed to find out exactly how much Miss Euphemia Darrow knew or suspected about Sophie Upchurch’s origins.

“We must be cautious,” Horatia said. “She has clearly gulled both my brother and his wife. We cannot afford to anger them, especially if you still wish for my brother to invest in your new venture… and to maintain his blessing for our marriage.”

“We must do more than simply ask questions and let her answers paint her for the adventuress she is,” William replied. Of course, that wasn’t all he intended to do. But it would be a start. “I’m certain it would happen, but it would take far too long. We must make our own opportunities.”

“How so?”

“The necklace, Horatia,” he said.

“It was a gift,” she protested. “One far too dear that I should have refused.”

He stroked her cheek. “It was a testament to the depth of my feelings for you. Now it will be the key to saving your nephew from a fortune hunter. Tomorrow, you will hide it in her chamber.”

“Me? Why should I?”

He sighed. “Horatia, I cannot go into her chamber. If I were discovered, it would look terrible for us both. But you can enter her chamber under the guise of asking to borrow a hairpin or some such nonsense. It would be easy enough to explain it all away. Will you do it?”

Horatia dropped her head for a moment. Then she nodded. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

At that moment, the dinner gong sounded and they returned to the drawing room, following the small group gathered into the larger dining room which had been laid formally. They found their respective seats, and with a nod to one another, they were ready to begin the next campaign.

*

Dinner was aguarded affair to say the least. From the moment Henry had come downstairs to join everyone else in the drawing room, it had been uncomfortable. But now, one course in, the tension in the dining room was thicker than the soup. His uncle, the duke, was seated at the head of the table and his aunt, the duchess, at the other end. Henry, himself, was seated to his uncle’s right and directly across from him was his Aunt Horatia. Miss Upchurch was seated to his right and Mr. Carlton was seated directly across from her, a most unfortunate placement.

Henry noted that Sophie kept her gaze on her plate and very rarely looked up. She spoke only when a question was put to her directly. She was clearly embarrassed at having been discovered in such a compromising position in the corridor. He could certainly understand that. He only prayed that she did not have regrets about allowing him to kiss her or about kissing him in return. It was truly one of the most glorious moments of his life.

“It is a shame,” Horatia intoned, “that poor Philippa did not feel up to joining us. I would so love for Mr. Carlton to have an opportunity to meet her. The poor dear is so isolated.”

“I’m certain Philippa will be feeling up to coming down for dinner at some time during your visit. Perhaps for tea tomorrow or the next day,” the duchess offered. “What can you tell us of her current state of health, Miss Upchurch?”

Sophie’s head popped up, a guilty flush stealing over her face. Because she’d been woolgathering, possibly thinking of the kiss they’d shared, or was it because she was secretly circumventing the duke’s and duchess’ will regarding their daughter’s care at the hands of a less than competent physician?

After a moment’s hesitation, and a brief glance in his direction, she answered the question. “I expect she is only overly tired due to the excitement of the day. Visits from Dr. Blake can be quite taxing, especially as she had her hydrotherapy appointment the day prior. We are expected to go tomorrow for a sea bathing treatment and Philippa states they always leave her feeling much improved.”

“Indeed, they do,” the duchess said with a slight inclination of her head. “I am ever so relieved, Miss Upchurch, that she will have you to accompany her on such outings. I must admit, I would have gone daily to the shore to aid my sweet girl. But I dislike the water terribly. Looking at it is quite fine, but being in it? I find it terrifying!”

“I’ve taught you to swim,” the duke stated balefully. “You do so remarkably well and yet you despise the water. It makes no sense. Women are such perverse creatures!”

The duchess cast a sharp look in his direction. “In the ponds and still waters on our country estates, I will do so happily. But the sea, even in calm estuaries, is a different matter. The vastness of the sea is terribly frightening to me. I feel very small and very powerless in such a body of water. No. I understand that it aids Philippa, but if I do not need to place myself within its depths, I will happily keep both my feet on dry land,” the duchess reiterated. “And now, with Miss Upchurch here, I may do so.”

“Do you swim, Miss Upchurch?” the duke asked, somewhat distractedly. “Though I can’t imagine it makes any difference now.”

Henry noted his uncle’s preoccupation. Whatever was on his mind had kept him from fully attending to the conversations taking place around the dinner table.

“I do, your grace. Though I haven’t had much opportunity and my experience is somewhat limited, I do possess the skill,” Sophie replied.

“Excellent,” he said. “I can’t imagine it was an easy skill to acquire in London.”

“Indeed. Pray tell, where, Miss Upchurch, did a London-bred girl such as you attain such a unique skill?” Horatia asked. “Not in the Thames, certainly. I cannot imagine swimming in such disgusting muck.”

Henry didn’t intercede because he was quite curious himself. Still, he was aware of the undercurrent of suspicion and possibly even accusation in Horatia’s tone. He also hadn’t missed that his uncle was behaving strangely.

“Miss Darrow, the headmistress at our school, took us to a country estate outside of London where all the students were given swimming lessons,” Sophie replied. “She felt, given that many of us would take positions well away from London, that riding and swimming, as well as the ability to utilize pistols and swords effectively, were requirements for our future safety.”

Horatia’s eyes widened. “That is quite an unorthodox approach to the education of young women! Pistols and swords. Did she also advocate riding astride and wearing trousers?”

“Not at all,” Miss Upchurch answered. “Effie—Miss Darrow—was quite adamant that her pupils should act as ladies at all times, but that we should also be able to defend ourselves against men who were not gentlemen.”

“An excellent notion,” the duchess interjected.

Horatia continued, “Though, I suppose most of her pupils do not have family members that would object to such a thing.”

“That is quite enough, Aunt Horatia,” Henry said.

All wide-eyed innocence, Horatia blinked at him. “Did I say something untoward?”

“Near enough to it,” Henry answered. “I personally am very grateful that Miss Darrow has taken it upon herself to educate women on something more useful than needlepoint. A finely stitched pillow or chair covering is all well and good, but the skills she’s taught these young women will allow them to be self-sufficient, to be able to make their own choices and defend themselves when the occasion calls for it. I think it is rather remarkable.”

“I could not agree more,” the duchess chimed in. “Why, I rather regret not having the opportunity to attend such a school myself!”

“You would never have been admitted, my dear,” Horatia stated smugly. “You had two parents.”

“Did I?” the duchess asked. “I do not recall that we ever discussed my family of origin, Horatia.”

And with that, the entire table became quiet. No one dared say a word. It was only the arrival of the next course and the footmen serving that eased the tension in the room.

“It is true, Lady Horatia, that many of the students at the Darrow School are illegitimate. In fact, most of them are. But there are exceptions. For myself, I do not know my parents at all. If they were married, if they were not, if they are dead or alive—I am ignorant of it. I cannot even tell you their names,” Sophie stated flatly. “I was left on the doorstep of the Darrow School as a foundling and Miss Euphemia Darrow, despite the fact that I was far too young to be her pupil, took me in and kept me there with some anonymous person paying for my education over the years. I am quite fortunate to have found myself in a household such as this one, where people of such elevated stations as the Duke and Duchess of Thornhill, seem not to care in the least about my humble beginnings.”

“Quite right,” the duke stated, finally seeming to be aware of what was going on around him. “It isn’t how one begins, after all. It’s what one accomplishes along the way, and you, Miss Upchurch, are quite an accomplished young woman.”

The remainder of the meal went on in a similar fashion. Thinly veiled barbs, pointed questions, and all of it hidden behind polite smiles and feigned innocence. For his part, Henry could see the triumph in William Carlton’s expression. The man had clearly put Horatia up to her interrogation because he himself was in too precarious a position to do so. Henry knew that he’d have to find a moment to discuss the issue with Sophie, to determine what it was that made Carlton take her in such instant dislike.

Henry was well aware of the strange undercurrent about them. Suspicion and snobbery seemed to be at the root of it all. He wanted say something, but was uncertain where to begin or whom to direct his disapproval at. He was also fairly certain that Miss Upchurch would not appreciate any interference on his part. She was rather independent. And he didn’t want to risk her ire. He wanted that walk in the garden with her after dinner. Of course, that meant taking the risk of being alone with her again. With the memory of their kiss still very fresh in his mind, that was a dangerous prospect, indeed.

Glancing in her direction once more, he watched intently as she sipped her wine. He envied the glass. Watching her lift it to her perfect lips and sip from it was both pleasure and torment. Then she looked up. For just a moment, over the rim of her glass, their gazes locked. It was quite obvious that she was recalling that same moment, as well. Her cheeks flushed. He could see a slight hitch in her breathing, then she quickly averted her gaze.

“Tell me, Viscount Marchwood,” Mr. Carlton said, “how your own estate is faring in your absence. Is it not some distance from here?”

“It is just north of London, Mr. Carlton,” Henry replied, gritting his teeth at the man’s friendly tone despite their earlier altercation. There was not a doubt in his mind that it was well remembered, after all. “And I have an excellent steward who will see to all things while I am away. And your business ventures in… Birmingham, isn’t it?”

“Manchester,” Mr. Carlton replied. “They do well enough. Again, as you say, I have a trusted man who will oversee things while I am away. He knows the business inside and out. So your visit to Southampton will be an extended one?”

Henry glanced once more at Sophie. “I had thought to stay a few weeks. But I may stay longer still. One never knows.”

“Indeed,” Cecile offered up her agreement. “And what a delight it is to have a house brimming with guests. It is the most wonderful thing.”

“That would depend on the guests, would it not?” Horatia asked. The pointed quip was greeted with an absolute void of sound. No one spoke. It seemed as if no one dared even breathe. The remainder of the dinner passed in silence, not even a hint of false civility was uttered.