Read Online The Last of Lady Lansdown by Shirley Kennedy - Free Book Online
Authors: Shirley Kennedy
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you will heed Sir Archibald’s words of warning.”
“You mean about being discreet?” Mama nodded. “Of course, I shall be discreet. What else? Do you honestly think I would take up with another man after ...?” She decided not to finish her sentence. Mama didn’t need to know the sordid details of her marriage to the earl. She wouldn’t want to know. “Suffice to say, you needn’t worry. Men are out of my life. Forever, as far as I’m concerned.”
Mama regarded her strangely. “I would not have thought so the other night when you were talking to Douglas Cartland.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“I saw the two of you laughing. You seemed quite enchanted with that scoundrel.”
“I was simply being polite to a guest.”
Mama drew herself up. “You should not have anything to do with Douglas Cartland, unless, of course, you wish to disgrace the whole family.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a grown woman now. I make my own decisions. However, you needn’t worry. I was most certainly not enchanted with the likes of Douglas Cartland.”
“This is all your father’s fault. I only wish John could see us now—poverty stricken, with barely a roof over our heads. Oh, why did he leave us? What did I do to deserve such a fate?”
There she went again. No doubt to her dying day, Mama would grieve for her beloved husband. Why had he run off to America? Even though he lost all their money, they could have worked something out. Why had they not heard from him? He could be dead. If he was, he could be buried in some unmarked grave in the wilderness and his loving family would never know.
I will find him. If I can sail to America, I will find Papa, I know it.
Jane’s heart ached for her mother, but she knew better than to argue, or even try to answer the questions that had no answers. Instead, all she could offer was comfort over what had to be the worst, most heartbreaking experience Amelia Hart had ever suffered in her otherwise sheltered life.
“Tomorrow I want to see your dower house.”
“So do I.” Jane gave her mother an encouraging smile. “We shall see if our new home is as wonderful as Beatrice claims.”
Mama left her room.
Situated on a bend in the river, not far from Chatfield Court, the two-story dower house built of faded gray stone appeared quite habitable from a distance. The closer they came, however, the worse it looked. A tangled, overgrown garden surrounded the house. It can easily be salvaged . Jane was in an optimistic mood as she, Mama and Granny traveled up the cobblestone walk to the front door. Gardeners could clear the undergrowth, trim the roses and honeysuckle vines that choked the yard and cut back the branches of the tall elm trees.
As directed by Mrs. Stanhope, Jane searched under a mulberry bush until she found a jar that held the door key. Her heart sank when she turned the key and they stepped into the entry hall. Immediately they were struck by a blast of musty air.
“Horrible!” Mama put her hand over her nose. “We shall all suffocate.”
“I believe Mrs. Stanhope mentioned the place needs airing.” An understatement if ever there was one.
They crossed the small entry hall and stepped into the drawing room. “Dear Lord!” Mama exclaimed.
Jane had never seen so much clutter in her life. A true deluge of bad taste. Gilded, overstuffed sofas, an untold number of mirrors and pictures with elaborate frames, black lacquered cabinets, statues, every sort of gewgaw imaginable ...
“Weren’t the birds outside enough?” Granny rested on her cane and gazed with amusement at the large assortment of stuffed birds, each under its own glass dome.
“With a bit of cleaning and sorting out, it will be fine.” Jane fought to keep a note of optimism in her voice.
Mama sniffed in disgust. “A bit of sorting out? We shall need a lot more than that. This place is a wreck, and you know it.”
Jane silently agreed. A closer look brought even more small
“You mean about being discreet?” Mama nodded. “Of course, I shall be discreet. What else? Do you honestly think I would take up with another man after ...?” She decided not to finish her sentence. Mama didn’t need to know the sordid details of her marriage to the earl. She wouldn’t want to know. “Suffice to say, you needn’t worry. Men are out of my life. Forever, as far as I’m concerned.”
Mama regarded her strangely. “I would not have thought so the other night when you were talking to Douglas Cartland.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“I saw the two of you laughing. You seemed quite enchanted with that scoundrel.”
“I was simply being polite to a guest.”
Mama drew herself up. “You should not have anything to do with Douglas Cartland, unless, of course, you wish to disgrace the whole family.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a grown woman now. I make my own decisions. However, you needn’t worry. I was most certainly not enchanted with the likes of Douglas Cartland.”
“This is all your father’s fault. I only wish John could see us now—poverty stricken, with barely a roof over our heads. Oh, why did he leave us? What did I do to deserve such a fate?”
There she went again. No doubt to her dying day, Mama would grieve for her beloved husband. Why had he run off to America? Even though he lost all their money, they could have worked something out. Why had they not heard from him? He could be dead. If he was, he could be buried in some unmarked grave in the wilderness and his loving family would never know.
I will find him. If I can sail to America, I will find Papa, I know it.
Jane’s heart ached for her mother, but she knew better than to argue, or even try to answer the questions that had no answers. Instead, all she could offer was comfort over what had to be the worst, most heartbreaking experience Amelia Hart had ever suffered in her otherwise sheltered life.
“Tomorrow I want to see your dower house.”
“So do I.” Jane gave her mother an encouraging smile. “We shall see if our new home is as wonderful as Beatrice claims.”
Mama left her room.
Situated on a bend in the river, not far from Chatfield Court, the two-story dower house built of faded gray stone appeared quite habitable from a distance. The closer they came, however, the worse it looked. A tangled, overgrown garden surrounded the house. It can easily be salvaged . Jane was in an optimistic mood as she, Mama and Granny traveled up the cobblestone walk to the front door. Gardeners could clear the undergrowth, trim the roses and honeysuckle vines that choked the yard and cut back the branches of the tall elm trees.
As directed by Mrs. Stanhope, Jane searched under a mulberry bush until she found a jar that held the door key. Her heart sank when she turned the key and they stepped into the entry hall. Immediately they were struck by a blast of musty air.
“Horrible!” Mama put her hand over her nose. “We shall all suffocate.”
“I believe Mrs. Stanhope mentioned the place needs airing.” An understatement if ever there was one.
They crossed the small entry hall and stepped into the drawing room. “Dear Lord!” Mama exclaimed.
Jane had never seen so much clutter in her life. A true deluge of bad taste. Gilded, overstuffed sofas, an untold number of mirrors and pictures with elaborate frames, black lacquered cabinets, statues, every sort of gewgaw imaginable ...
“Weren’t the birds outside enough?” Granny rested on her cane and gazed with amusement at the large assortment of stuffed birds, each under its own glass dome.
“With a bit of cleaning and sorting out, it will be fine.” Jane fought to keep a note of optimism in her voice.
Mama sniffed in disgust. “A bit of sorting out? We shall need a lot more than that. This place is a wreck, and you know it.”
Jane silently agreed. A closer look brought even more small
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