The Fall of Lord Drayson Read Online
Tabular array of Contents
Title Page
Affiliate ane
Chapter 2
Chapter three
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter seven
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Affiliate 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Affiliate 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Affiliate 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Affiliate 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Affiliate 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Affiliate 34
Dear Reader
Other Books by Rachael Anderson
About Rachael Anderson
Acknowledgements
© 2016 Rachael Anderson
All rights reserved.
No role of this book may be reproduced in whatsoever grade whatsoever, whether by graphic, visual, electronic, film, microfilm, tape recording, or any other means, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and manufactures.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author's imagination, and are not to be construed as existent. The opinions and views expressed herein belong solely to the author and do not necessarily represent the opinions or views of HEA Publishing, LLC. Permission for the employ of sources, graphics, and photos is besides solely the responsibility of the author.
ISBN: 978-1-941363-17-i
Published past HEA Publishing
Oh, what a tangled web we weave
When starting time we practice to deceive!
—Sir Walter Scott, Marmion
Miss Lucy Beresford, the late-vicar's girl, had been instructed by her loving parents to always tell the truth. It was the good and moral thing to exercise, and Lucy doted on them, and then she had striven to follow the wise counsel. The last time she had fibbed to her parents was at the immature age of 11, when she had returned home quite disheveled after a disheartening grasshopper race.
Young ladies of good breeding did not grab, race, or wager on grasshoppers with the farmer's sons. That would exist about unseemly, as Lucy well knew, which was why she explained to her female parent that she had found a pocket-size bird stuck in a marsh and had dingy her skirts in an attempt to free it. The lie worked beautifully until Johnny's papa had dragged Johnny to the vicarage to strength an apology and render the guinea Lucy had wagered and lost when her grasshopper decided it would rather sunbathe than hop.
The lie thus exposed, Mr. and Mrs. Beresford did non scold or verbal whatsoever sort of punishment. Mr. Beresford had merely looked upon his daughter with a pitiful countenance and said, "I am deeply disappointed in you, Lucille."
He had used her full proper noun—he never used her full name—and Lucy had never felt more awful. From that moment on, she had determined to refrain from telling another falsehood as long equally she lived.
Viii years later, at the ripe age of nineteen, Lucy prided herself on holding true to that promise, although sure situations did require some creative truth-telling. Such was the instance the twenty-four hour period Lucy spotted Mrs. Manning emerging from the milliner's wearing a new bonnet. The creation had an uncommonly big poke that fanned around Mrs. Manning's sparse and angular confront, and with the added variegated blue feathers splaying out in all directions, the woman looked a bit like a peacock on display.
She spotted Lucy and rushed to her side. "What practise you lot think of my new hat, Lucy? It merely just arrived from London, where it is all the rage, I hear."
Rather than tell Mrs. Manning the thing ought to exist sent back to London straightaway, Lucy responded with warmth. "Information technology is quite sensational, Mrs. Manning. I'll wager y'all will be the centre of attention wherever you get."
Beaming, Mrs. Manning patted Lucy's manus. "You are e'er such a dear." She pranced abroad, wearing a ghastly bonnet and a radiant smile.
Lucy continued on with a smiling of her own, happy in the cognition that she could withal be counted amidst the truthful. Her father, had he still been live, would have been proud.
Not two days later, on a dreary March morning, Miss Lucy Beresford had the misfortune of encountering a gentleman who provoked Lucy into doing something that would greatly distress her mother and cause her begetter to roll over in his grave.
For the first time since Lucy had made her vow 8 years prior, creative story-telling wouldn't do, nor a little white lie either. No, what came out of Lucy's mouth was nothing less than a plunker.
"Sell?" Erasmus Graham, the long-fourth dimension bailiff of Tanglewood, abruptly pulled on the reins, bringing his grey to a halt. His bushy eyebrows mashed together over bulging eyes. "You lot desire to sell Tanglewood, my lord?"
"I believe that is what I said, yes." Colin Cavendish, the 5th Earl of Drayson, pulled the brim of his beaver hat lower over his forehead to better protect his confront confronting the freezing rain. Even through his heavy riding coat, his body began to chill. Perhaps he should not accept sent his valet ahead to London earlier that morning. If the skies had non looked then welcoming only hours before, he would not accept done so. Moisture dress were deucedly hard to remove without assistance.
Colin sighed and looked out over the vast estate, wondering what his gramps had start seen in the austere and unwelcoming property. Nether the thick smothering of clouds, the massive stone building, Tanglewood Manor, glistened in the drizzle between overgrown copse. The picture it created suffocated him, and Colin felt the sudden need to loosen his necktie.
No wonder his mother had insisted on raising her children in the family'due south charming land manor in Danbury, Essex.
"Sir, this house has been in your family for 4 generations. Your father once climbed those trees and fished from the streams yonder. And now you wish to sell?" Erasmus connected to gape, even though his lid offered little protection from the rain.
"It is not entailed, so yeah, that is precisely what I intend to exercise." The earl gestured to the manor house. "The few servants we take retained are not able to keep it upwardly, the estate is only barely profitable, and Yorkshire is a far cry from Essex. No ane in the family has lived hither in ages, and the neglect is obvious. We need to sell while we all the same can."
"You could return for a time and renovate," the bailiff tried.
"For what purpose? So it can remain vacant for twenty years more?"
"What of The Honorable James? Or Lady Charlotte or Lady Harriett? Do none of your siblings wish to retain it?"
The earl smiled grimly at the image of Charlotte ensconced hither—a ii-day drive from London. She would consider information technology the worst sort of entrapment. "Charlotte and James adopt the polish and glamour of the metropolis, and Harriett, like our female parent, enjoys Danbury."
"If Lady Harriett prefers the state, perchance—"
"My mother would never hear of it, Erasmus. It is too far from Danbury. And surely you recall Lady Drayson well enough to know how convincing she can be. It was her persistence, after all, that removed my family from Askern in the showtime place. It is of no employ arguing. Similar it or not, Tanglewood will soon exist sold and off my hands."
Erasmus shifted in his saddle and heaved a heavy sigh. "I was sure y'all had come with happier tidings, my lord. Why make such a long trip only to instruct me t
o sell?"
The earl's Arabian danced to the side, no dubiousness broken-hearted to be out of the rain equally well. "I had some business organization in Lancashire, so it wasn't too backbreaking a journeying. And, as y'all stated before, this identify meant something to my male parent and grandfather, so I suppose I wanted to see for myself if information technology inspired any sympathetic stirrings. Unfortunately, one glance was all information technology took to convince me that I'm right. Tanglewood has served its purpose in my family history, and it is by time to see that it stays there. For your sake, I truly am pitiful, but I'm certain I can convince the buyer to go along you on. You accept served our family most faithfully."
"If I had done a meliorate job, mayhap yous would non be and so anxious to be rid of it."
The earl was prepare to exit the rain behind and movement this meeting indoors. "Come up now, Erasmus, do non add to the dreariness of the day with such self-pitying thoughts. You could accept done nothing more than for this place, as you well know."
The man swiped a soaked sleeve across his forehead, smearing the pelting and sweeping his eyebrows into miniature Brutuses. "It is not myself I'k sorry for, my lord. What of Mrs. and Miss Beresford? What will get of them?"
The names meant null to Colin. "Who?"
"The belatedly vicar's wife and daughter. They are currently occupying the dower firm."
"What?" Colin'south Arabian whinnied, making its impatience known, merely the earl no longer cared most the common cold. He pulled on the reigns to go on his horse steady. "Who authorized such an arrangement?"
"Two years past, when the reverend contracted a disease of the lungs and died, your begetter offered the dower business firm to his widow and daughter. They take been residing there since."
"Why take I not heard of this earlier?" Colin said.
"My apologies, my lord. I assumed you already knew. Your father—"
"Was a sentimental fool," inserted Colin, more a little annoyed by this latest evolution.
"Sir." The bailiff's tone was one of reproof.
The earl dismissed the rebuke with a wave of his soaked glove. "Yous know too as I that anybody was fond of my begetter, including me. Only these six calendar month's by I have been tidying up a rather large mess he left at my door, and when I begin to call up it is finally at an end, I discover he has allow out the dower firm of a property I wish to sell as soon every bit humanly possible. Even a saint would be vexed, Erasmus, and I am no saint."
"I sympathize, my lord."
The earl sighed as he considered his options. This news certainly complicated matters. The Beresford family unit would have to take upward residence elsewhere earlier the manor could be sold, only how long would that have? "What sort of agreement did Mrs. Beresford make with my father? Is there a written contract of some sort?"
"No, my lord. Your begetter gave only his word as a gentleman. He journeyed from Danbury for the funeral, and I shall never forget the sight of him taking Mrs. Beresford's hand in his and saying, 'As long as I'm alive, you will have a abode in the dower house at Tanglewood.'" The bailiff stared at a trees of trees that the earl could only assume hid the dower house.
The earl let out a jiff. Finally, some skillful news. "So nothing in writing so."
Erasmus swung his gaze toward the earl, seemingly indifferent to the water dripping in his eyes. "You lot intend to give them the kick then?"
"Unless you can notice a buyer who is willing to purchase a home with tenants in the dower house, I meet no other option."
"I shall do my best to find such a heir-apparent, my lord."
The earl permit out a humorless express mirth. "I was merely jesting, Erasmus. A heir-apparent like that could take years to notice, and I am unwilling to dedicate that sort of time. I accept made my decision. The Beresfords volition demand to make other living arrangements as soon as possible. You may tell them they take a calendar month to vacate the premises."
"A calendar month! But, sir—"
The earl lifted his hand. "2 months and so, and there shall be no farther argument on that."
The bailiff shook his caput slowly simply forcefully. "I will non practise information technology, my lord. I volition non be the one to tell Mrs. Beresford and her daughter they must detect somewhere else to live." The gear up line of his jaw told the earl that he meant what he said.
Colin cast him a warning glance. "My male parent spoke highly of you when he was alive, Erasmus. Do non give me a reason to give yous the sack."
"I volition give myself the sack before I will deliver such news, my lord."
The earl blew out a breath as his horse danced anxiously beneath him. "Very well. I am jump for London in one case nosotros take concluded our business organization. When I arrive, I volition accept my barrister draft a letter to—"
"You lot are here now, my lord," said the bailiff. "Why not speed up matters by delivering the news yourself? Your male parent made the agreement in person. I would remember it only correct to break it in person."
Colin considered the bailiff'southward words. Information technology would be a disagreeable chat to be certain, but not the first he'd experienced. And, as much every bit the earl hated to admit it, Erasmus was right. The Beresfords deserved to hear the news from him.
"Very well, Erasmus," said Colin. "I will deliver the news myself." Surely, once the earl explained, they would understand why he must sell and why they must move. The affair would exist well in paw past nightfall, and he would be that much closer to finally gaining the upper hand on all his newly-caused holdings.
On her hands and knees, Lucy scrubbed a particularly stubborn spot on the kitchen floor when the only servant the Beresfords could afford to retain breezed through the dorsum door. Petite and rail-thin, with her blond hair tucked under a worn harbinger bonnet, Georgina had always been more of a friend than a maid.
Georgina immediately fix downwards the basket of food she carried and rushed to Lucy'due south side. Her skirts were soaked from the rain. "Miss Lucy, ya shouldn't be doin' that!"
Lucy sat back and drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs with air that tasted like it had been stuck inside the kitchen far too long. "What should I be doing, Georgy? Pretending to care about needlepoint or the piano? You lot know as well equally I that I have no cartoon room talents, and i person cannot exist expected to practise everything effectually here. You work much likewise hard. It is simply right that I should help out in one case in a while." Too, thought Lucy, it was rather interesting to play at being a maid, specially on such a dreary morning equally this when she was trapped indoors. With her mother off helping a sister during her confinement, Lucy could do as she pleased, for though Georgy attempted to tell her to comport, she could not insist on it.
"I piece of work nah 'arder than anyone else in me position, Miss," said Georgina, "and ya 'ave plenty of drawin' room talents."
Lucy raised an countenance. "Such every bit?"
Georgina stood and pulled Lucy to her feet, no doubt attempting to come up up with at to the lowest degree one of Lucy's so-chosen "talents."
"Ya ever like a expert book, Miss," came the answer after a time.
Lucy pressed a finger to her lips in a teasing fashion. "Shh, Georgy. Practice not go spreading that effectually. I would so hate to be considered a bluestocking."
Georgina extracted the scrubbing castor from Lucy's grip and tossed it on the table. "Better a bluestockin' than a maid, Miss. And that stain 'every bit been in that location since before I came 'ere. It volition not budge, nah matter 'ow 'ard ya scrub. Na take off that frock and cap and attempt ter exist'ave proper-like for once. Word in town is that you're ter expect a visitor soon. Mr. Graham told me 'isself."
Lucy left the apron tied around her waist and rested her palm on the tabular array. "Oh, what fun. Is it a rich, long-lost relative, exercise you retrieve?"
"Nah."
"A constable on the hunt for an outlaw?"
Georgina giggled at that. "I think not, Miss."
"Perchance an eligible human who has heard all nearly my, er . . . talents and delightful personality and is coming to pay court? Yes, I am sure that is information technology," Lucy teased as she dusted off her apron. "I call back it all-time to let him see m
east as I actually am, don't you, Georgy?"
"We can concur on that, Miss," said the maid every bit she pulled the cap from Lucy's caput. "Ya always be forgettin', but you're the girl of Mr. and Mrs. Beresford."
Lucy sighed. "Yous make me audio very boring indeed."
Georgina smiled and patted Lucy's cheek. "You're anythin' but dull, Miss. Na take off that apron. I'm off to fetch some fresh milk from the McCallisters, so mind your manners whilst I'one thousand abroad, and don't let anyone in before I get back."
"I thought you are to take orders from me and not the other fashion around," said Lucy.
"Not wif your ma abroad and me the simply grown up 'round 'ere." Georgina's lips quirked into a grin before she stepped out the door and pulled it closed backside her, leaving Lucy alone in the kitchen.
Most instantly, Lucy felt a return of her before colorlessness. She leaned forrard, resting her elbows on the counter and her chin in her palms. What now? Perhaps she could walk to the neighboring manor and visit Mr. Shepherd. He was always good for some interesting conversation, although lately he seemed preoccupied with the science of etymology, having recently read a volume on the subject, and Lucy had no desire to larn the Latin or Greek origins of words like "candid" and "procure."
A loud knock echoed through the firm, startling Lucy. Was the mysterious visitor hither already? She patted the sides of her pilus as she strolled out of the kitchen and downwardly the hall. In the foyer, she drew in a deep breath earlier pulling open the heavy, wooden door, only to discover a man standing in front of her.
His eyes caught her attention kickoff. Under the brim of a black beaver, and sandwiched between trimmed side whiskers, they were blue and intelligent, chock with complexity and mystery.
He doffed his wet hat, revealing thick and wavy hair the color of molasses. Lucy studied his person, wondering who he was and what business he had with her family unit.
"I'1000 here to see Mrs. Beresford, if you lot please." The deep timbre of his vox matched the depth of his eyes, and Lucy was certain she had never beheld such a handsome animate being. Alpine and broad-shouldered, he was dressed impeccably, from his traveling coat and elementary cravat to his perfectly shined riding boots—a sharp dissimilarity to her ain untidiness.
The Fall of Lord Drayson Read Online
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