Read Online Amberley Chronicles Boxset I: The Impostor Debutante My Last Marchioness the Sister Quest (Amberley Chronicles Boxsets Book 1) by May Burnett - Free Book Online
Authors: May Burnett
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the fiction was accepted - she was far more popular than father.”
“I don’t wonder. I wish I had known my aunt Amelia. Mother never learned about your existence, it would seem.”
“No, and now that I have met her, I understand why she was never told. Apparently your mother rather bullied mine during their childhood. I do wonder if it is partly for my sake that mother never came to London in her later years.”
“Let’s go back to Conway and your marriage.” James filed away all this information, but they were getting too far from the point. “What do you know about him and his family? Where did he live before he was stationed in York? How did he court you?”
“The usual way. Flattery, flowers, dancing at the local meetings, soulful looks, pressing my hand … I was too young and inexperienced to see through him, and took his professions of love at face value. Father at least should have been more careful, but after mother’s death he seemed desirous of settling me, and Belinda, as soon as possible. I suspect he was thinking of remarriage himself at the time. When Peter applied to him for my hand, he gave him a dowry of five thousand guineas. Without that cursed dowry, I doubt the marriage would ever have taken place. And we could certainly use the money now.”
“So you were soon married?”
“Yes, quite respectably, from Brinkley Manor, then for some months I lived with Peter in his lodgings in York.”
James had to suppress a twinge of hot jealousy at the thought. “How did that work out?”
“Not too well. I think he did not like having someone hanging about and seeing what he was up to at all hours. Our relations quickly deteriorated. I resented the way he took me for granted and as soon as the ring was on my finger, all pretence of love and caring immediately ceased.”
“The bounder,” James murmured under his breath.
“Eventually he told me he had to travel to Cornwall and recommended that I spend the time of his absence with Belinda, left all alone at the manor, just as her eye problems were beginning to worsen. I was glad enough to comply. It turned out he had sold his commission without telling me, and he simply never came back, or even wrote.”
“What did your father do about that?”
“He was not pleased, but as I said, by then he was glad that I was there for Belinda. Not that he himself was home more than maybe a week or two in the year.”
“It strikes me,” James commented, “that your story has a shocking lack of trustworthy male characters in it.”
“Well, Richard is trustworthy enough, just unwilling to take on a neglected estate and Belinda’s family. After Belinda, all his passion belongs to medicine and science.”
James kept his reflections about the absent Richard to himself. “You never told me his last name.”
“Richard Seymour. Belinda is Mrs. Seymour now.”
“And you are Mrs. Peter Conway.”
“I try to forget that fact as much as I can.”
“We need to gather information about your husband and what he is up to. Where was his regiment stationed before?”
“Somersetshire, I believe.”
“That should not be too hard to check. Do you know where Conway was born?”
“He never spoke much about his early life, in fact now I think back on it, he was quite evasive on the subject. Somehow I received the impression that he grew up in the south - Sussex? – maybe Kent – not too far from London, at any rate.”
“Did any of his relatives attend your wedding?”
“No, he claimed to be an orphan without any relatives.”
“Hmm. And how old is he?”
“In 1811, when we were married, he claimed to be twenty-seven. That would make him thirty-three or thirty-four now.”
“But of course, we cannot believe anything he told you, not even his age.”
“Right.”
They fell into a gloomy silence as the phaeton tooled along the park. A few isolated drops of rain were beginning to fall.
“I think the rain is about to get heavier,” Charlotte
“I don’t wonder. I wish I had known my aunt Amelia. Mother never learned about your existence, it would seem.”
“No, and now that I have met her, I understand why she was never told. Apparently your mother rather bullied mine during their childhood. I do wonder if it is partly for my sake that mother never came to London in her later years.”
“Let’s go back to Conway and your marriage.” James filed away all this information, but they were getting too far from the point. “What do you know about him and his family? Where did he live before he was stationed in York? How did he court you?”
“The usual way. Flattery, flowers, dancing at the local meetings, soulful looks, pressing my hand … I was too young and inexperienced to see through him, and took his professions of love at face value. Father at least should have been more careful, but after mother’s death he seemed desirous of settling me, and Belinda, as soon as possible. I suspect he was thinking of remarriage himself at the time. When Peter applied to him for my hand, he gave him a dowry of five thousand guineas. Without that cursed dowry, I doubt the marriage would ever have taken place. And we could certainly use the money now.”
“So you were soon married?”
“Yes, quite respectably, from Brinkley Manor, then for some months I lived with Peter in his lodgings in York.”
James had to suppress a twinge of hot jealousy at the thought. “How did that work out?”
“Not too well. I think he did not like having someone hanging about and seeing what he was up to at all hours. Our relations quickly deteriorated. I resented the way he took me for granted and as soon as the ring was on my finger, all pretence of love and caring immediately ceased.”
“The bounder,” James murmured under his breath.
“Eventually he told me he had to travel to Cornwall and recommended that I spend the time of his absence with Belinda, left all alone at the manor, just as her eye problems were beginning to worsen. I was glad enough to comply. It turned out he had sold his commission without telling me, and he simply never came back, or even wrote.”
“What did your father do about that?”
“He was not pleased, but as I said, by then he was glad that I was there for Belinda. Not that he himself was home more than maybe a week or two in the year.”
“It strikes me,” James commented, “that your story has a shocking lack of trustworthy male characters in it.”
“Well, Richard is trustworthy enough, just unwilling to take on a neglected estate and Belinda’s family. After Belinda, all his passion belongs to medicine and science.”
James kept his reflections about the absent Richard to himself. “You never told me his last name.”
“Richard Seymour. Belinda is Mrs. Seymour now.”
“And you are Mrs. Peter Conway.”
“I try to forget that fact as much as I can.”
“We need to gather information about your husband and what he is up to. Where was his regiment stationed before?”
“Somersetshire, I believe.”
“That should not be too hard to check. Do you know where Conway was born?”
“He never spoke much about his early life, in fact now I think back on it, he was quite evasive on the subject. Somehow I received the impression that he grew up in the south - Sussex? – maybe Kent – not too far from London, at any rate.”
“Did any of his relatives attend your wedding?”
“No, he claimed to be an orphan without any relatives.”
“Hmm. And how old is he?”
“In 1811, when we were married, he claimed to be twenty-seven. That would make him thirty-three or thirty-four now.”
“But of course, we cannot believe anything he told you, not even his age.”
“Right.”
They fell into a gloomy silence as the phaeton tooled along the park. A few isolated drops of rain were beginning to fall.
“I think the rain is about to get heavier,” Charlotte
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