The Illegitimate Montague

‘What, is not James—’

‘Master James is dead.’

‘Good heavens, when was this?’

Hannah hunted for her handkerchief.

‘Some two years since, I do not know the details—it was France, or Spain—something to do with the horrid war.’

Adam ran a hand through his hair. ‘I read that Lord Edward had perished at Waterloo, but Jamie—that makes Giles the heir!’

‘Not quite yet. The family had word that Jamie might be alive, and Lord Harry is gone to look for him.’

‘But that is good news, surely.’

‘Yes, it is, only not long after he went a woman arrived here, with a baby, saying she is Lady—that she is Master Jamie’s widow. The duke is overjoyed to have his grandson here, only—’

‘Only you think she is an imposter?’

‘I do not know, my son. It is all so confused. She seems true enough, but there are little things—and if she should prove to be a fraud, His Grace would be distraught. And he is so very ill, Adam, a mere shadow of the man he once was. His mind is going, you see, and there are so few of us left that he remembers. I do not think I can leave him while there is so much turmoil here, so much to distress him.’

‘I have not seen His Grace since I was twelve,’ said Adam pensively. ‘I was about to depart for the naval college in Portsmouth and he summoned me, to bid me farewell, do you remember? He told me to make everyone proud of me.’

‘And we were, my son. When we read in the dispatches about your bravery at Trafalgar, His Grace sent down a bottle of his best wine for us to toast your health!’

As if I was his own son. The words rose unbidden to Adam’s mind. It was an effort not to speak them, but if his mother had sworn an oath of silence he would not ask her to break it. He had caused her enough pain. He watched his mother turn to put another log on the fire. The plain gold band on her wedding finger was real enough, and there was the emerald ring she wore on the little finger of her right hand on high days and holidays—she had told him once that had been a betrothal gift from his father.

Two substantial rings, tokens from a man of means, such as the duke. As a child, the idea that the Duke of Rothermere was his parent had seemed preferable to not having a father at all but once Adam joined the navy it had ceased to be important. The question was still there, at the back of his mind. It always would be, but he would not let it come between him and his mother again. He was his own man, and proud of it.

Hannah shook off her reverie and looked up, smiling.

‘I am eating in the servants’ hall today. Will you join me, Adam? I would like to show you off.’

Adam grinned.

‘I should be delighted to take lunch with you.’ He held the door open for his mother and followed her out into the corridor, where she addressed the maid who was scurrying by.

‘Becca, we will be having a guest join us for luncheon in the servants’ hall. See to it that another place is laid, if you please.’ She looked at the watch dangling from her waist. ‘It is not nearly so late as I thought—’ Hannah broke off as she saw that the little maid was still standing there, wringing her hands nervously before her. ‘Well, Becca?’

‘Please, m’m, Cook asked me to go and fetch another pot of cream. If I goes back without it …’

‘You may tell Cook that I have sent you back with a message,’ said Hannah, patiently repeating herself. ‘Make sure there is another place laid at the table, Becca, and I will fetch the cream.’ She threw an amused glance towards Adam as the maid hurried away. ‘I was going to suggest we might take a stroll, but it seems I now have an errand.’

‘Then I shall come with you,’ said Adam. He added mischievously, trying to maintain the lighter mood, ‘Who knows, I might catch a glimpse of a pretty dairymaid… .’

They turned to make their way outside, but as they traversed the passage a lanky young footman came in and stopped at the sight of them. Hannah smiled.

‘Ah, Coyle, here is my son, Adam, come home to visit me. You won’t know Joe Coyle, Adam. He joined the family but five years ago.’

Adam nodded affably. The footman nodded back.

‘Ah, now, so it’s Captain Stratton returned, is it? I heard tell you was at Trafalgar, with Lord Nelson, God rest his soul.’

‘I was, but I am no longer a captain. I have sold out.’

Joe cast a critical look over Adam’s shabby coat.

‘Not doing so well, eh?’

Adam felt his mother stiffen beside him, but he merely shrugged, his amiability unimpaired. ‘I’m doing well enough.’

With a nod he took his mother’s arm and moved off, leaving the footman to go on his way. Hannah put her hand on his sleeve.

‘Adam, you should not let them think your pockets are to let—’

He grinned. ‘Better that than they should be dunning me for a loan. But I am sorry that the little fracas on the way here has ruined my coat. I did not pack another, thinking to carry you off within the day.’

‘Oh, my dear—!’

‘It is no matter, Mother. You have explained to me why you cannot pack your things and fly with me immediately.’

‘But I do not want you to disappear immediately either.’

‘I promise you I shall not do that. It was truly arrogant of me to think you would drop everything to come with me. I have left my business in good order, so I can stay in Castonbury for a while.’ The image of Amber Hall rose in his mind, but he dismissed it quickly. He placed his hand under his mother’s elbow. ‘Now, let us make haste to the dairy, before Cook is driven to a rage by a lack of cream.’

Hannah led the way outside and they followed the path that ran around the kitchen wing. The sash windows of the servants’ hall had been thrown up to make the most of the warm spring day, and as they passed, Joe Coyle’s voice came floating out to them, saying with painful clarity, ‘So Cap’n Stratton’s back, His Grace’s by-blow …’

Hannah stopped, her face pale, but before Adam could speak he heard the butler say sharply, ‘You’d best keep such thoughts to yourself, lad, if you don’t want to be turned off.’

‘But ‘tis common knowledge, Mr Lumsden—’

‘Common nonsense, that’s what it is,’ retorted the butler. ‘You’ll get short shrift if you repeat such gossip in this house, Coyle.’

Adam put his hand beneath Hannah’s arm and gently moved her away.

‘Adam—’

‘You need say nothing, Mother. There has always been gossip, even when I was a boy.’

‘Ah, my son, I thought to shield you from that!’

He shrugged.

‘It was never important.’

‘Is that really true? Perhaps it was wrong of me, not to tell you the truth.’

The faded blue eyes were fixed upon him. Adam knew that one word from him and she would break her vow of silence. He paused to consider the matter. He had always looked up to the duke, who had been carelessly kind to him and had paid for him to go to sea. Adam had never felt any bitterness about his upbringing—after all, it was not unusual for peers to have children on the wrong side of the blanket. What was unusual was the care the duke had taken of Adam’s mother, persuading his father the late duke to employ her at Castonbury and allowing her to rise to a position of respect, responsibility and independence. If silence was the price she had had to pay for that, then he was not going to make her break her vows.

‘Growing up without a father has only increased my determination to make something of myself,’ he told her, smiling a little. ‘I have no interest in the past, only in what I am now … which is exceedingly hungry. Let us fetch the cream and return for our luncheon with all speed.’

Adam saw the relief in his mother’s face and knew he had made the right decision.

‘So, Captain—’

‘I am merely Mr Stratton now, sir,’ Adam corrected the butler with a smile, and the old man nodded, his look saying that Adam would always be a captain in his eyes. ‘What are you about now?’

‘I am a manufacturer.’

Adam glanced around the servants gathered together for luncheon and smiled to himself.

They were all looking at him politely, but he read a touch of disdain in their glances. They were wedded to the past, where a title and land was paramount. A man’s status was determined by his birth—and given what Adam had overheard earlier they considered his origins to be highly suspect! Little did they realise that only a few miles away men like himself were making fortunes that would allow them to buy up estates like Castonbury on a whim.

‘And you’ve come back to visit your mother,’ Lumsden continued, bending a fatherly eye upon Adam. ‘Very commendable.’

‘Not just to visit,’ said Adam. ‘I want to take her to live with me in Rossendale.’

This brought a murmur of surprise around the table and Hannah was quick to respond.

‘I shall not go immediately, of course. I would like to remain until after Lord Giles’s wedding.’

‘And so I should think.’ Lumsden nodded. ‘We couldn’t do without you, not at this late stage.’

Adam smiled at his mother.

‘I am afraid you will have to do so eventually.’

She put her hand over his.

‘Even though I will not go back with you immediately, I hope you do not mean to leave me just yet.’

‘No, no, have I not said I shall stay a little while?’

‘How long?’ she pressed him. ‘More than a couple of weeks, I hope.’

Adam hesitated. To remain in Castonbury, where he was clearly thought of as the illegitimate Montague, would not be easy, but he did not wish to leave his mother again so soon. Before he could reply William Everett, the estate manager, cleared his throat.

‘And where might you be thinking of staying?’

‘I am sure the Rothermere Arms will have a room… .’

‘There is the old keeper’s lodge, by the south gate.’

Joe Coyle snorted at Mr Everett’s suggestion.

‘No one’s lived there for many a day.’

‘True, but the building’s sound,’ said William. ‘I’ve been in the village this morning, and I think it might be a good thing to have someone living near the south gate again.’

One of the housemaids gasped, her bright eyes lighting up at the hint of gossip.

‘Oh, why’s that, Mr Everett? Has there been some trouble?’

‘It may be nothing, Daisy,’ he said cautiously, ‘but I heard that Mrs Hall was accosted on her way to Castonbury yesterday. Damaged some of the stock she was bringing back with her.’

‘Dear me, never say she was travelling alone?’ said Hannah. ‘Why did she not use a carrier?’

‘No one’ll work for her,’ replied Joe Coyle, pouring himself another glass of small beer. ‘The last carrier she used was set upon. Had his nose broken. She can’t keep any staff either.’ He wiped his lips and leaned forward, warming to his theme. ‘Bad things happen to ‘em. They get warned off.’

‘Oooh, who by?’ breathed Daisy, hands clasped to her breast.

Coyle shook his head.

‘Nobody really knows, but I think it’s the clothier over at Hatherton. Stands to reason, she’s competition.’

‘But surely she should go to the magistrate,’ said Adam, keeping his tone impartial.

‘No proof,’ replied Coyle shortly. ‘No one will say anything, but I had it from Mrs Crutchley, the butcher’s wife, that the new man’s been trying to drum up business in Castonbury. She says his prices are very good.’

‘Well, I don’t care how good he is,’ retorted Hannah stoutly. ‘We have always used Ripley and Hall to supply our needs and we will continue to do so.’

Adam was heartened his mother’s response, but the conversation worried him. He had been inclined to dismiss Amber’s assertions about her competitor, but if Parwich really did mean her harm, Adam did not think the boy or the old man he had seen at the warehouse would be much help to her. If he stayed at the lodge he could be near his mother and perhaps keep an eye on Amber as well.

William Everett pushed back his chair and rose from the table, saying as he did so, ‘Well, the offer is there if you want it. ‘Twould do the place good to have a few fires lit and I’d be glad to have it known that there is someone living there, especially while we have the lady on her own at the Dower House—’

Coyle snorted contemptuously.

‘The lady!’

William Everett frowned.

‘You’ll watch your tone, young man. If the lady’s case is proved, she’ll be your new mistress!’

‘Lord Jamie’s widow,’ explained Hannah, observing Adam’s raised brows. ‘She and her child have been installed at the Dower House, which is within sight of the old lodge. I confess I am a little worried for her, living there with only a few servants.’

Adam rubbed his chin. He could afford to pay for the best rooms at the inn, but the lodge was conveniently close to the great house.

‘Very well, Mr Everett, I will take up your kind offer and move into the keeper’s lodge for a while.’

‘Very good. The place was adequately furnished, the last time I went in, but of course there is no mattress.’

‘I will send one over directly,’ put in Hannah quickly. ‘I will look out some spare bedlinen too. Daisy will come over and clean the rooms for you. Perhaps Cook will allow Becca to help her. The place will be inches thick in dust.’

‘That is very good of you, Mrs Stratton,’ said Mr Everett. He turned to Adam. ‘I am going that way now if you would care to come and look?’

‘I will,’ said Adam. He drained his tankard and set it back on the table.

‘P’raps Mr Everett can find you some work on the estate.’ Coyle grinned. ‘By the looks of you, a few extra pennies wouldn’t go amiss.’

Adam smiled. If only they knew!

‘Don’t worry,’ he said mildly, ‘I’ll manage.’

Hannah’s chair scraped back. She said brusquely, ‘It

is time we were all back at work. Daisy, clear away, will you?’

Thus dismissed, the servants quickly went about their business.

Hannah put her hand on her son’s arm.

‘Will you come back later, for dinner?’

‘Of course. First I am going to see my temporary quarters.’ He grinned. ‘And then I think I will ride into Castonbury and find myself a new coat!’

Chapter Four

‘And there’s another two customers have closed their accounts.’

Frederick’s tone was as dismal as the gloom at the back of the shop. Amber rubbed a hand across her eyes.

‘They live near Hatherton, Fred. I am not surprised that they prefer to buy their cloth from Matthew Parwich.’

‘And what about Mrs Finch, when you tell her the block-printed cotton she ordered is ruined?’

Amber drew a breath, fighting back her anger.

‘It is not ruined, Fred, it has a few watermarks where it was dumped in the river. I will see how it looks once the washerwoman has done with it, and offer it to Mrs Finch at a reduced rate.’

It would wipe out any profit she had hoped to make, but if her customer was satisfied, then that was all she could hope for.

‘And then there’s the cloth for Castonbury Park—’

‘Most of that was undamaged.’ Her hold on her temper was slipping and she waved her hand at her clerk. ‘I will finish going through the order book, Fred. Please go and fetch a taper to light the lamps, or our customers will not be able to find their way in.’

She waited until he had left the room, then dropped her head in her hands.

Poor Fred, he was worried about the business, but he had a propensity to gloom and it would do no good to let him see her own anxiety. The attack yesterday must have shaken her more than she thought, for she was not usually so low. The tinkle of the shop doorbell brought her to her feet in an instant, the order book laid aside. Two young men entered. Their clothing was rough, and there was a certain swagger about them that immediately made her wary, especially with the daylight fading. She greeted them as she would any other potential customer, but remained behind the counter.

‘We wants some ribbons,’ said the taller one, looking about him with an insolence that made her want to order him from the premises.

‘Aye,’ sniggered the second, a spotty youth with ginger hair, ‘for our lady-loves.’

‘They are all there, by the window.’ She pointed to the display, the colours glowing in the last rays of the setting sun.

The young men walked across to the window.

‘Just these?’ The ginger-haired youth sniffed. ‘We came all the way from Hatherton and this is all you got? That ain’t good enough.’

‘Then I suggest you go back to Hatherton and buy your ribbons there,’ she retorted. She wished Fred would hurry up and return.

The taller of the two approached her.

‘Now that ain’t very good business talk, is it? What about this piece here?’ He picked up a length of scarlet ribbon from the counter and held it up. He pointed behind her. ‘And we’ll take a look in those drawers back there—’

He broke off as the bell tinkled again and Amber looked past him. She could not prevent the smile of relief at the sight of Adam Stratton in the doorway.

His quick gaze summed up the situation instantly and he stepped up, eyeing the two youths as he drew off his gloves.

‘Good day, Mrs Hall. You have customers, I see. Pray do not fret over me. I shall amuse myself while you deal with them.’

‘We was just going, wasn’t we, Tom?’ The ginger-haired youth began to sidle towards the door.

‘Aye, we are—’

‘Just a moment!’

The authority in Adam’s voice brought both men to a halt. Adam pointed to the ribbon on the counter. ‘You were going to buy that, I think?’

Amber held her breath. The lanky youth looked as if he wanted to deny it, but the silky menace in Adam’s tone was unmistakable. She saw the young man swallow and look at his companion, but there was no support there.

‘Um, well, I—’

‘That particular ribbon is one of the most popular,’ said Amber. ‘It would delight any young lady.’ She added kindly, ‘Since it is the last of the roll you can have it for tuppence.’

‘A bargain,’ agreed Adam, his eyes like steel, despite his smile. ‘Well, sir?’

The lad swallowed again, dug into his pocket and pulled out two coins.

‘A-all right,’ he stammered. ‘There you are.’

He slammed the coins down on the counter, picked up the ribbon and lounged out of the shop, his companion hot on his heels. Adam followed them to the door and watched them hurry away before turning back to face Amber.

‘I hope those two are not typical of your customers.’

‘Thankfully, no.’ She tried to speak normally.

‘I arrived just in time, I think.’

She raised her chin.

‘I am grateful, naturally, but I was never in any danger.’ His sceptical look told her he thought differently. She reached beneath the counter and pulled out an elegant pistol. ‘I am prepared for these occasions.’

He raised his brows.

‘Of course, I had forgotten. Having seen you in action, madam, I can believe it! However, I think it could prove, ah, vastly inconvenient to have dead bodies littering your premises.’

She laughed at that, saying as she carefully stowed the pistol away again, ‘It would indeed.’

‘But, to be serious, madam, who were those young ruffians? Are they local men?’

‘No, I have not seen them before. They said they had come from Hatherton.’

‘A long way to come for a length of ribbon.’

She shrugged. ‘Mayhap they are visiting someone here.’

‘How long have you felt it necessary to keep a loaded pistol in your shop? No, don’t tell me,’ he continued, noting her hesitation. ‘Only since your competitor began making … overtures, am I right?’

She eyed him frostily.

‘How I protect myself and my property is not your concern, sir!’

Oh, but how I wish it could be!

Amber was shaken by the thought. Immediately she stifled it. This was dangerous territory and she must draw back. She summoned up a smile.

‘Pray, let us not argue, Mr Stratton.’ She clasped her hands together and directed a polite look of enquiry up at him. ‘What can I do for you, sir?’

‘I thought you could tell me where I might buy a coat.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yes. I am staying in Castonbury for a while and I really think this one a little too shabby, don’t you?’

The amusement in his voice, the slight, upward curve of his lips, set the butterflies loose in her stomach again. She forgot all about her unwelcome visitors and for a moment she could only gaze up at him, marvelling at how blue his eyes were, how they glinted when he smiled at her.

‘I heard the bell—’ Frederick came hurrying back into the room, a lighted taper clasped in one hand. He stopped when he saw Adam and gave him a nod of recognition.

The spell was broken and Amber was quite put out.

‘Yes, well, you are a little late, Fred,’ she retorted acidly. She closed her lips, composed herself and said quietly, ‘Since you have the taper, perhaps you will light the lamps now?’ She turned back to Adam, trying to think rationally. He was only another customer, after all.

‘I require a coat,’ he prompted her.

She cleared her throat.

‘Well, fashionable gentlemen such as Sir Nathan Samuelson would go to Buxton, but there is Mr Leitman, who is a perfectly good tailor and lives here in Castonbury.’

‘Your local tailor will suit me very well.’

He placed his hands on the counter. She gazed down at those long, tapering fingers, remembering the pleasure they had given her.

‘Then …’ She struggled to bring her disordered thoughts under control—and her voice, too, which had suddenly become very husky. ‘Then I would be happy to furnish you with the cloth you need.’

‘Excellent. What fabric do you have?’

Amber hesitated. Over the years she had become adept at assessing her customers, but she could not be sure about Adam Stratton. Thinking back to their discussions, he had told her he had been a sailor, and he had a house for his mother, but that did not necessarily mean he was a wealthy man. His coat was well-cut but tailored for comfort rather than fashion. His shirt and neck cloth were of the finest linen; she remembered the feel of them when she had hung them over the bush to dry. The thought of their time together in the woods brought the heat flaming to her cheeks again. It weakened her knees and she was obliged to clutch at the counter for support.

‘If it is a workaday coat you require, sir, I have a selection of wools and worsted, then there is a silk and wool mixture, or the superfine, if you wish for something better… .’

‘An everyday coat is all I require.’

‘Very well. Frederick, perhaps you will fetch down the—’

‘No.’ He held up his hand as Frederick ran to bring the steps to the front shelves. ‘It is too dark now to see the colours clearly. I will come back in the morning. Perhaps you will have a selection ready for me to see in the daylight?’

He lifted his hat, turned on his heel and departed. Amber watched him go. She felt very odd, as if she had been buffeted by a wild and unexpected storm.

‘Hmph.’ Frederick replaced the steps in the corner of the shop. ‘It seems to me he could have saved himself a journey and just called upon you tomorrow.’

‘Perhaps he just wanted to make sure we could supply him.’

She stared out through the window, watching as he hoisted himself into the saddle, turned the large grey horse and rode off. Perhaps he wanted her to know he was not leaving.

A sleepless night followed. Amber had spent all day trying to forget Adam Stratton. She convinced herself that the attack upon her wagon had made her restless, had disordered her senses and she had played the damsel in distress to Adam’s gallant knight. Then he had come into her shop, sent those rough youths away and sent her into another dizzy spin!

In vain did she argue that the entry of any gentleman would have resolved the situation and persuaded the boys to leave, but she knew that no one else would have caused such a bolt of pleasure to shoot through her. She had been overjoyed to see him, and now she was appalled by her reaction.