It was Wednesday, November 5, and this night, all over England, bonfires were being lighted in hamlets, villages, towns, and cities. On top of each bonfire was an effigy of Guy Fawkes; he was the conspirator executed for his role in the Gunpowder Plot. Still remembered, although it had taken place in 1605, with roaring fires and outside suppers.
His attempt to blow up Parliament and kill King James I was to avenge the persecution of Roman Catholics in England. It failed and yet became an historical event thereafter.
At Courtland, the bonfire was built and the village would be joining the house’s inhabitants to light it and mark the date.
“Can you imagine that’s almost three hundred years ago,” Alexis said to Tilda, who was helping her dress for the evening event in the gardener’s yard beyond the stable block.
“‘Remember, remember, the fifth of November, gunpowder, treason, and plot.’ Those were the words I learned in school,” Tilda told her.
Alexis laughed. “So did I. I expect every child did who went to school.” There was a pause, then she said, “I’m glad I accepted Miss Claudia’s invitation to come and stay on for the whole week. She’s been very nice since Marietta’s marriage, warm and welcoming. It was a lovely wedding. And I was flattered to be a godmother to baby Nicholas.”
“I know that, Miss Alexis, and she’s made several comments to me that she is happy with the way you look. Almost your old self, she said to me.”
“Except I still need to lose more weight, Tilda,” Alexis protested. “I really do.”
“We all put it on so easily, Miss Alexis, but it’s surely very hard to get off. You are doing so well, my lady, and your hair is looking lovely.”
“I’m determined to battle it through,” Alexis remarked, and stood up from the dressing table.
Tilda helped her on with a moss-green fitted jacket that matched the long straight skirt. With this tailored but dressy suit she wore a burgundy silk blouse, which tied with a large bow. Alexis left the bedroom, followed by Tilda, who was carrying a full-length moss-green cape for Alexis to wear outside.
Lady Jane and Lord Reggie were waiting for Alexis in the front entrance hall. Alexis thanked Tilda, and then went to join them.
“Good thing you wrapped up well,” Jane said, kissing Alexis on the cheek. “It’s a bit nippy this evening.”
Lord Reggie put an arm around Alexis and hugged her to him. “Let us hurry. The others have gone ahead to be there when the villagers arrive.”
The three of them crossed the garden and went into the stable block where the horses were kept. As they walked at a good pace, Lord Reggie remarked, “Having a bonfire for the villagers is an ancient custom, started by Sebastian’s ancestors. And how he enjoyed it himself, especially the fireworks. Don’t you both remember?”
They said they did.
Within a few more minutes they arrived at the gardener’s yard, where Claudia and Cornelius were already standing with Lavinia, Marietta, and her new husband, Anthony Gordon. Their wedding had been a success and they had ignored any gossip about the early arrival of their baby.
Alexis was always pleased to see them together. They were beautiful young people and so very much in love it was touching. She knew that Dukey’s solution had worked and avoided a bigger scandal. She could see that it had been the right course of action, however much it had made her feel excluded. And now that she was godmother to the baby, her place in this family she loved was secure.
A few minutes later Aunt Thea arrived, just as the villagers were trooping up the side path from the village of Courtland down the hill.
It was Cornelius who took charge once everyone was grouped around the huge pile of wood, twigs, and rolls of paper. Perched right at the top of this pile was the effigy of Guy Fawkes, which the villagers had made and which Lavinia usually said looked like a scarecrow. Once again the same words left her lips.
Cornelius handed Reggie and Anthony boxes of matches, and then stepped over to Jake, Tom, and Larry, the undergardeners, and gave a box to each of them. “Now we must set the paper at the bottom of the pile afire. Within minutes there will be a huge blaze.”
As the entire pile flared up into the night sky, the villagers laughed and clapped, cheered and sang the old ditty. And when the legs of the effigy caught the flames, louder cheers echoed in the yard.
Mr. Frome, the head gardener, was in charge of the fireworks and was assisted by the other undergardeners, Ellis, Alan, and Fred.
Armed with the Swan Vestas, they set alight all kinds of fireworks such as Catherine wheels and flares that filled the black sky with fantastic patterns in a spectacular display of color and light.
Everyone clapped and sang. Some of the villagers did jigs, and there was much laughter and enjoyment. When the fireworks were over, Claudia and Cornelius thanked the villagers for coming and told them to go and enjoy the baked potatoes, roasted chestnuts, and other food on the buffet table that Mr. Frome had set up.
The family walked back to the great stately home. Within minutes they were sitting down at the dining table where a country-style dinner was served.
Claudia had asked the two cooks to make legs of lamb, all kinds of winter vegetables, and baked potatoes.
To start she had suggested a hearty soup, followed by oysters. After the first courses, the haunches of meat were carved by Kingsley and the two underbutlers. The maids handed around the vegetables, while the footmen served the various wines from Sebastian’s impeccable cellar.
It was a jolly evening, with much chatter, laughter, jokes, and reminiscing. It was a compatible group, and Alexis glanced around the richly colored dining room, gas lamps casting pools of yellow light over the family. She caught her breath at how much she had missed this. It was wonderful to have been made to feel so welcome.
The following morning, after breakfast, Alexis went into the library, where Lady Jane sat reading a newspaper.
“Do you mind if I join you?” Alexis asked. “I promise I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”
Jane laughed. “Of course you can. I’m just glancing at the newspapers. That’s all.”
“Where’s Reggie?”
“He went upstairs to find his spectacles. He just dodged out for a minute or two.”
Alexis exclaimed, “The Artful Dodger, that’s what Sebastian called him at times … he would say Reggie just knows how to dodge out when he’s asked to answer an awkward question.”
Jane couldn’t help grinning at these words as she picked up The Times, opened the paper. Alexis followed suit, and found another one to flick through.
When Lord Reggie returned a few minutes later, Alexis said to him, “I forgot to tell you, the strangest thing—a local estate agent wrote to me, informing me that someone wanted to buy Goldenhurst. Apparently there was a rumor, locally, that it was for sale.”
Jane put down the paper and stared at her, frowning. “How odd. Imagine a rumor like that starting.”
“It is, but at least I know that if my father cuts me off without a shilling, I’ve an asset I can sell.”
Immediately recognizing this was the moment he had long been looking for, Reggie discarded The Chronicle. He said in a serious voice, “You cannot sell Goldenhurst.”
“I don’t intend to. I’m only telling you what happened, regarding the estate agent,” Alexis explained.
Reggie took a moment, rearranging the thoughts in his head, wanting to be clear so that she truly realized what his words meant.
At last he said slowly, “What I’m saying is that you cannot ever sell Goldenhurst, even if you wanted to do so. The house is entailed.”
Alexis, taken aback, had a perplexed expression on her face. “I don’t think I’m understanding you, Reggie. What on earth do you mean?”
“‘Entailed’ is a legal term. An entailed estate has a predetermined order of succession,” he said. When she simply gaped at him, he went on, “‘Entailed’ means to limit the inheritance of a property to a specific succession of heirs.”
Alexis sat digesting what Reggie had just said, and the puzzled expression remained on her face. She finally asked, “Are you saying that I can’t ever sell Goldenhurst throughout my lifetime?”
“That is correct. Nor can you leave it to an heir. When you die, the house automatically goes to a member of the Trevalian family. Let’s say Claudia, or a child of hers. Or either of her sisters. And it is an unalterable inheritance. That’s really what ‘entailed’ means.”
“But why would Sebastian do that? I mean, he left me the house in his will, even before we were married. Why did he do that?”
“I’ve absolutely no idea, Alexis. Truly I haven’t. And remember, Goldenhurst was his, paid for with his money. Sebastian spoke of many things to me. We were best friends, but he never discussed his will.”
“Why haven’t you told me before?” she asked.
“In the beginning, when he died so suddenly, so unexpectedly, you were out of your mind with grief. If you recall, you did not come to the reading of his will. You were ill in bed and sedated. You were hysterical with grief.”
Reggie shook his head, looking sad. “I perhaps should have told you after the reading, but I was a little afraid of bringing up his name, never mind explaining all this after you went abroad for treatment.”
“It’s not your fault, I realize that,” Alexis said in a low voice. “Can I ask you a few questions?”
“Yes, and I’ll endeavor to answer them if I can.”
“Let’s say I do get married one day. Then I eventually die. I can’t leave Goldenhurst to my husband?”
“No, you cannot.”
“What if I have a child, an heir? Does that same rule apply?”
“It does. That is what entailed means. It goes to whomever Sebastian has chosen to inherit his property. A Trevalian.”
“So it’s only on loan to me, while I’m alive?”
“That’s another way of saying it. And yes, that is correct.”
She stood up, putting a hand up to her throat.
“Why would he leave the house to me when we were only engaged?”
“I don’t know. I can only hazard a guess.” Reggie cleared his throat, and continued, “He fell madly in love with you the moment he set eyes on you. He was a widower for ten years and although he took out various women, I never ever had seen him behave in the way he did with you. It was a coup de foudre, as the French say. He was struck by lightning is basically what that phrase means.”
“But he couldn’t have known he was going to die,” Alexis interjected.
“I agree. However, I do think he wanted to give you something substantial, in case there was a problem, a tragedy of some kind … maybe an accident, whatever. It’s hard for me to understand what he did myself.”
Reggie sighed. “I think in his mind it was some sort of protection for you for as long as you were alive, and if perhaps he wasn’t alive.”
“I think I understand,” Alexis murmured, looking from Reggie to Jane, but sounding baffled.
Jane’s face was without expression. She too was somewhat startled.
“Let me say something else. If he had lived we would have been married, and more than likely we would have had children. So when I died who would have been the heir to Goldenhurst?”
“Your first child by Sebastian. Or he himself, if he were still alive. Remember, you would have become a Trevalian, and it was deeded to a Trevalian.” Reggie shook his head. “That’s the best way I can say it.”
“I still think it was a strange thing to do, Reggie. Don’t you?” Alexis pressed.
“I’m not sure what to think. However, just remember, it is yours for your whole life, Alexis.”
Alexis nodded, and stood up. “Thank you, Reggie, for explaining this to me. I must go up to my room and puzzle through it.”
Alexis sat upstairs on one of the couches in her bedroom, staring out at the gardens and thinking about Sebastian, wondering why he had entailed the house. She had listened carefully to everything Reggie had told her, and she understood fully what entailment actually meant. She shook her head. She felt that Reggie was as baffled as she was, and Jane, too, had appeared slightly stunned.
Sebastian hadn’t trusted her to do the right thing. As this thought entered her mind she closed her eyes, pushing back the tears. She had loved him so truly, and with all her heart. She would have protected him with her life. Surely he had known that?
If he had not suddenly and unexpectedly died at forty, they would have married, and more than likely had children. And when he died, his heir would inherit Goldenhurst. That was the law. Perhaps he had had a premonition that he might die young, and not have an heir, and had wondered what her life would become without him. That she might marry again, have a child, and leave Goldenhurst to her child? A son or daughter that was not a Trevalian?
He could have had that thought, of course he could, she decided, and did not like the sudden rush of disappointment that flooded through her. He wasn’t like that, not at all. He had always been generous and kind, and a man who was loyal to those he loved.
Nonetheless, he had entailed the house she thought of as her home, and although she could live in it for her entire life, it would go to Claudia, or another Trevalian, when she died. She felt the tears trickling down her cheeks, and tried to shake off the hurt feeling inside … but she knew it would not go away … not for a long time. Perhaps it would remain with her forever. She would not ask Claudia anything about her father’s will, nor discuss this matter. She would explain that to Reggie and Jane later. Now she would attempt to pull herself together, and put this unexpected knowledge behind her. She was a visitor here for the weekend and she must mind her manners and be a good guest. Keep face, no matter what.