chapter 37

Emily was so thrilled to be going to London, she wondered why she hadn’t thought of the idea of exploiting being a debutante before. Margaret’s health was improving, but Emily couldn’t help being glad it hadn’t improved enough for her to accompany her to London. Four whole months away from Armstrong House beckoned, and now without the watchful eye of her mother correcting everything she did.

When she reached London she was brought to the Battingtons’ villa where Gwyneth gently explained that due to her pregnancy Charles and Arabella would assist with her during the season – did she mind?

“Mind?” said Emily. “Of course not!” She was over the moon. It meant she would be spending even more time with Charles.

“Of course we mustn’t tell Mama that Arabella will be involved for fear of upsetting her health,” Gwyneth insisted.

Emily readily agreed.

Emily was then deposited to Hanover Terrace where she embraced Charles tightly.

“Welcome to London, my dear,” said Arabella, kissing her on the cheek and smiling at her.

“I want to go to art galleries, museums and parks,” said Emily. “And restaurants, and I want to go on the underground – Mama never let me when I was here with her. I want to go on a boat down the Thames, and –”

“But your mother and Gwyneth have already put your schedule together for you,” said Arabella, holding up the paperwork.

“Yes,” said Charles. “Breakfast on Monday at the Hansons’, lunch at the Whitbreads’ – they’ve a second son they want to marry off. Then a dance at the Howards’. Tuesday, breakfast at the Lascelles’ – they have a French cousin they want you to meet.”

Emily crossed over the drawing room and took up the paperwork.

“Mama has organised this with military precision!” objected Emily. “When do I ever get any time to do the things I want to do?”

“I believe you are here for a purpose,” Charles pointed out, looking bemused.

Emily flung the paperwork on the table. “Well, I can’t possibly go to half of these – I’d be exhausted! Where’s my room? And where’s this French chef I hear all the talk about – can he cook me steak with Béarnaise sauce for my dinner?”

As Arabella looked on she realised that dealing with Emily as a house guest was not going to be an easy feat, and the girl had obviously come to London on false pretences. She had no interest in finding a husband.

Arabella did try to take a firm hand with Emily and force her to go to the events arranged. But Emily was headstrong and, if she didn’t want to go, then she didn’t. Arabella realised that if the indomitable Margaret had failed to marry Emily off so far, what chance did she have?

Emily was presented at court, together with the mandatory ten-foot train on her debutante dress.

“At least the curtsy was correct,” said Gwyneth who had managed to make it to the palace to observe.

The ironic thing was that Emily was in great demand from her first event on. News quickly spread about Lord Armstrong’s beautiful young daughter who had everything going for her, from her rounded education to impeccable relations. The trouble was, Emily found them all a bore.

Emily had been invited to dinner at the Lascelles’ and Arabella and Charles accompanied her. The Lascelles were trying to match her with their cousin Henri from France. Emily sat bored as both Henri and his family discussed his merits and qualities.

“My father is the Count de Chavan. We are one of the oldest and most respected families in France,” said Henri.

“How did your family escape the guillotine?” questioned Emily, causing a surprised murmur around the table.

Henri continued undaunted. “My father is a very wealthy man. He owns the de Chavan vineyard in the Loire. Our wine is the best in France.”

“In fact,” interrupted Mrs Lascelle, “this wine is from the vineyard.”

“Oh? It’s just a little bitter for my taste,” said Emily.

The table fell into silence for a while before it was broken by Arabella. “Emily speaks fluent French, Henri. Perhaps you would like to speak in French together for a while?”

“Oh no, you’re mistaken, Arabella. My French teacher said I had the worst pronunciation she had ever heard . . . my German isn’t bad though. Do you speak German, Henri?”

“Non!”

“Not surprising . . . the French lost the Franco-German war, didn’t they?”

Henri looked insulted but continued unabated. “My family have one of the largest châteaus in the Loire, and I as their only son and heir –”

“I’m sorry!” said Emily, holding up her hand. “I’m sorry – but if you are so wonderful, then why haven’t you been taken already?”

The whole table looked on shocked, except for Charles who burst out laughing.

One part of being a debutante Emily loved was Saturday afternoons when the debutantes were expected to ride through Hyde Park with a male relative to show off their riding skills and beauty to passing suitors. She had Charles all to herself for a few hours as they rode side by side.

“This is like putting yourself in a shop window,” said Emily as she trotted beside Charles.

She was attracting a lot of attention from the passing people and Charles expected they would have many calling cards and invitations left in on Monday for Emily.

They stopped along the way to chat to passing people and for Charles to introduce Emily.

“Isn’t this just like the old times, Charles? Remember when I was your confidante?”

“I remember well,” he said, nodding, remembering the unfortunate hand Emily had in the start of his relationship with his wife.

Suddenly Charles saw Hugh Fitzroy riding towards them on his stallion. Charles had tried to keep a distance between himself and Hugh since their journey that night to the East End. The whole experience had unnerved him considerably. He realised there was a lot more to Hugh than he had imagined. And that lot more was unsavoury and could be dangerous. The trouble was he had so ingratiated himself with Hugh by this stage that keeping that distance was proving very hard.

“Hello, Charles,” said Hugh, stopping beside them.

“Good afternoon, Hugh. I didn’t realise you’d taken riding lessons?”

Hugh looked at Emily quizzically.

“Hugh Fitzroy, may I introduce my sister, Lady Emily,” said Charles.

Hugh looked at Emily, surprised.

“Delighted to meet you,” said Hugh.

“A pleasure,” said Emily.

“I didn’t know you had another sister,” said Hugh.

“Yes, I’m the youngest,” said Emily. “I’m usually buried away in the Irish countryside, but they let me out for the season, on the promise I’m on my best behaviour.”

Hugh stared at the girl, taken aback by her cheeky talk. “And how are you liking your time here?”

“Oh, I’m liking it very much, Mr Fitzroy. I feel like a prisoner let out after a life sentence,” she said lightly.

“I’m afraid we have to get on – Arabella is expecting us back,” said Charles.

“Of course,” said Hugh. “Are you both free next week for lunch, my treat, Fortnum and Mason?”

Charles shook his head. “Unfortunately not. Emily has a packed week of events.”

“No, I don’t,” said Emily. “Well, nothing that can’t be cancelled. I haven’t been to Fortnum and Mason yet, and it’s on my list of things to do.”

“Well, then – Tuesday at one?” asked Hugh.

“See you then,” said Emily nonchalantly.

Hugh nodded and rode on.

“Who is he?” asked Emily.

“Just an acquaintance. You shouldn’t have accepted that invitation.” Charles was annoyed. “You’re supposed to be having lunch with the Brewers on Tuesday.”

“That’s the very reason I accepted it!” said Emily as they rode on through the park.

As Arabella and Charles walked into Fortnum and Mason they spotted Hugh immediately – he was sitting at a table and waved them over.

“This is a treat!” said Emily after they greeted each other and she sat down.

Hugh handed them menus. “Please, order anything you want.”

Charles took the menu and sat back. “Have you bought Fortnum and Masons as well, Hugh?” He didn’t hide the cynicism in his voice.

“Not yet.” Hugh looked at him pointedly.

They ordered food and chatted away.

“You’re over here as a debutante?” said Hugh.

“Yes, I’ve already been presented at court. Poor old Queen Vicky, I felt quite sorry for her. She looked as if she had less interest in being there than I had! The Prince of Wales seemed to be fun, though.”

Hugh looked at her, amused. “Do you like London?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. But what I’d really like is to go to New York some time. Have you travelled much?”

“Yes, I’ve been to many places around the world.”

Emily sat forward, intrigued. “Where’s the most exotic place you’ve been?”

“I’d say Constantinople,” Hugh said.

Emily’s eyes widened in amazement. “Tell me what are the markets like – is it true you can buy anything in the world there?”

As Hugh talked about Constantinople, Charles wondered what reasons took Hugh there and guessed it would be something to do with the opium trade.

Emily found Hugh’s stories captivating. She hadn’t met anyone like him before – he was so different from the stuffy people she had met since arriving in London.

“Charles!” called somebody from another table and Charles excused himself to go over and talk to them.

Hugh looked at Emily and smiled and seemed suddenly embarrassed to be left alone in her company.

“So – what events have you lined up for the rest of the week?” he asked.

“I’m attending a ball at Lady Hollander’s on Friday. Do you know her?”

“Yes, I sponsor a lot of her charity work.”

“I know she does a lot of good works. I know this because she never shuts up telling everyone about it!”

“I’m certain she’ll have a lot of eligible suitors lined up to meet you.”

Emily looked at him and giggled before sitting forward. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yes.”

“I have no intention of marrying any of them.”

“Sorry?”

“A lot of insipid bores. I’m over here to enjoy myself.”

“I see! But a girl like you could own the world,” he said, amazed at her attitude.

“Oh, I’m not like my sisters, Mr Fitzroy. I don’t want to own the world – I just want to see some of it.”

He smiled at her. “Please, call me Hugh.”

At Lady Hollander’s ball Emily tried to be polite to the people around her and then found a quiet corner and sat down, wondering how long it would go on and when she could get home to her comfortable bed. Then she saw Hugh Fitzroy walking across the floor to her.

“Hello there,” he said.

“Good evening, Hugh. I didn’t realise you were coming tonight.”

“Neither did I,” he said, looking awkward. “Could you put me on your card later for a dance, if you would allow? That is, if you’re not already booked up?”

She looked at him curiously and held up her dance card. “My dance card is empty.”

Hugh looked at her, confused.

“I haven’t accepted any dance invitations tonight, you see,” she explained.

“Oh, you don’t like to dance?”

“No, it’s not that,” she said, standing up. “I’m free to dance now, if you wish?”

He nodded and smiled and led her out to the dance floor where they began to waltz.

“Why didn’t you accept anybody’s dance invitations?” he asked.

“Because there was nobody here that interested me enough to dance with.”

He went red with embarrassment. “But you accepted mine?”

She nodded and smiled. She found his eyes always stared and, when she was that close to him, it was impossible not to stare back.

“I’m getting some jealous looks from the men,” said Hugh.

“Who cares? They are not interested in me, not really. More interested in how big a dowry they can get from my father.”

“If I . . . if I ever got married . . . I wouldn’t accept any dowry at all.”

She smiled at him, trying to understand him. “Why not?”

“Because I’d just want her.”

Suddenly he stood on her toes.

“I’m sorry!” He was mortified. “I’m so sorry. I’m not a good dancer at all. I’ve been getting lessons, but . . .”

She placed a finger against his mouth. “It doesn’t matter, not to me, how you dance.”

She went back into his arms and they continued to dance.

At the breakfast table at Hanover Terrace on the Monday morning, Emily was having breakfast with Arabella and Charles when Burchill came in holding a gift box which he laid on the table.

“For Lady Emily,” he said, before retreating from the room.

“What on earth is that?” asked Charles as Emily opened the navy velvet box.

“It’s a diamond necklace,” said Emily, astounded, as she looked down at the necklace sitting on its silk bed.

Arabella got up quickly and came around to look at it.

“Who is it from?”

Emily read the card. “Hugh Fitzroy!”

Arabella looked at Charles with concern.

“Such a remarkable gesture!” Emily was taken aback.

“It certainly beats the normal calling cards that gentlemen send you,” said Charles.

“That man has more money than sense,” said Arabella, trying to calm Emily’s obvious excitement. “He’s always sending lavish gifts to anyone who looks at him in London. He sent me diamond earrings once.”

“But I imagine they were nothing like this!” said Emily correctly, as they all started to mentally count the diamonds on the necklace.

chapter 38

Arabella looked on with increasing concern as the summer months passed by. Hugh Fitzroy turned up at all the balls Emily went to and Emily spent most of the evenings in his company. Arabella decided she needed to act to avoid any misunderstanding on anyone’s part. She was in the drawing room at Hanover Terrace in the late morning when Emily came happily in.

“What a lovely day!” said Emily as she went and looked out the windows. “Do you fancy going for a walk in the park this afternoon?”

“Yes, that sounds nice. Emily, I’ve been meaning to have a word with you about Mr Fitzroy.”

“About Hugh?” asked Emily, turning around, smiling.

“Yes. I don’t think it’s wise for you to spend too much time in his company from now on.”

“Why not?” Emily’s face soured.

“Because I think you might be scaring off other potential suitors by giving him so much attention.”

“Good! I want to scare off any potential suitors.”

Arabella became annoyed. “And I don’t think you’re being fair to Hugh himself.”

“Why not?”

“Because – because you don’t want to give him the wrong impression.”

Emily walked slowly over to the couch and sat down. “And what wrong impression would that be?”

“That he might be in with any kind of chance with you.”

“I see . . . and who says he’s not in with ‘any kind of chance’ with me?”

Arabella laughed derisorily. “Of course he isn’t! Because he’s not in any way suitable – in fact I can’t think of anyone less suitable.”

“I think Hugh is refreshing. He’s different from the others. He’s not caught up in what schools everyone went to and what clubs they are in.”

“That’s only because he probably didn’t go to school and is only in any club because Charles nominated him into it!”

“Well, I’m sorry, Arabella, but I’m not going to shun Hugh in future. He’s been incredibly kind to me. Kinder than anyone ever has been.”

Arabella looked cynical. “He’s good at deceiving people, Emily, and buying them and swamping them with gifts. That’s not kindness – that’s vulgar and insincere.”

“Well, I don’t see how it’s anything to do with you.”

“It’s everything to do with me! While in London, you’re my charge –”

“I’m not your charge! I’m supposed to be Gwyneth’s charge, except she’s not up to the job due to her pregnancy.”

“Exactly, and the job has fallen to me. Your mother and father would be horrified that you were even speaking to someone like Hugh Fitzroy, let alone accepting all these gifts and dancing all night with him. I owe it to them to ensure you conduct yourself properly while here.”

“They don’t trust you of all people! Not after everything you did! You forget, Arabella, I was party to your deceitful affair with Charles. Everyone else doesn’t know the extent of your deception and the lengths you went to and the depths to which you sank in order to hide your sordid affair. But I do. I was your go-between. And I will not be dictated to you now about who is suitable and not suitable to socialise with. Not you of all people!”

“Emily –”

“No! You might like to go around now with all your airs and graces. You and Charles, the toast of society. But I know it’s all a façade, a game of charades to hide your real selves.” She stood up angrily. “At least with Hugh you get what you see. Certainly he doesn’t have the polite manners and upbringing everyone else has, but at least he’s real – and that’s what I like about him!”

Emily turned and stormed out of the room.

Charles was in the study reading a letter when Arabella walked in and closed the door behind her.

“Charles, I need to speak to you about Emily and this unsuitable friendship she’s established with Hugh Fitzroy. It has to stop! I tried speaking to her about it, but you know how defiant she is. She pushed me away and dismissed me, in quite a rude way.”

Charles laughed. “That’s dearest little Emily for you.”

“It’s not a laughing matter, Charles. She’s never going to find a suitable match with him hanging around like a bad smell.”

“Come, come, Arabella! I think both you and I know Emily has no intention of making a match with anybody.” He looked at her, amused. “Are you honestly suggesting she’s contemplating Hugh in any way other than a casual entertainment?”

“You are forgetting, Charles, that Emily is a young and a very inexperienced girl. Just because she has a smart mouth and a stubborn streak does not make her in any way worldly wise. All she knows about the world she’s read in books, but this is the real world she’s in now, and she’s completely uneducated in its ways.”

“Emily is much cleverer than you give her credit for. As if she has any real feelings for Fitzroy or ever could! She’s an aristocrat; Lord Armstrong’s daughter!”

“That’s as may be, but you and I of all people should know how things can get out of hand. If your mother was here supervising Emily, she wouldn’t even be allowed in the same room as Fitzroy.”

“What do you suggest I do about it?”

“Speak to Fitzroy – warn him to keep his distance.”

“I see!” said Charles, wondering how Hugh would take that.

“The more that man has infiltrated himself into society the more fantastical the rumours I’ve heard about him. Most of which I wouldn’t sully my mouth by repeating. I don’t want him near Emily again, or near you for that matter.”

“I can hardly just cut off a friend!”

“Yes, you can!” she said, her eyes blazing with determination. Then she turned and walked out.

As Charles turned his chair and looked out the window at the gardens, he thought how Hugh had become too powerful for anyone to tell what to do. But he knew Arabella was right. If she had known what he had witnessed that night in the East End, she would faint. The time had come to cut Hugh Fitzroy loose.

Charles had been summoned in to meet his bank manager. And as Charles sat down opposite him Mr Jones did not look in a good mood.

“We’ve been writing to you for months and our correspondence has been ignored,” said Mr Jones.

“It’s Burchill the butler – he’s always falling down on his duties. But he’s been with the family for years, so it would be cruel to get rid of him at this stage.”

“Indeed. Well, quite simply you are behind months with the mortgage repayments for Hanover Terrace.”

Charles glared at Mr Jones. “And why haven’t you been taking the repayments from my bank account as usual?”

“There isn’t enough in your bank account to cover the repayments,” Mr Jones said, handing over a sheaf of paperwork.

Charles looked through the paperwork with growing alarm. “But – but – this can’t be correct.”

“Quite correct, unfortunately.”

“But where did all the money go to? All the money transferred when I raised the money on the mortgage on Hanover Terrace?”

“Spent, I imagine. Money has been pouring out of your account like water over the Victoria Falls. Previously, when your account was nearly empty it was of no concern for the bank. But now, with the massive arrears you owe the bank, it’s very much our concern.”

Charles continued to stare at the paperwork in shock. He knew their lifestyle was lavish but even they couldn’t go through this amount of money, could they? Two fortunes lost in a matter of years – Arabella’s dowry and the mortgage money.

And yet as Mr Jones droned on, he realised the expense of everything in their life, not to mention that confounded gambling debt he had built up. Usually his winnings supplemented their lifestyle, but he had been on such a losing streak for such a long time.

“I’m afraid at this stage we have no alternative but to write to your father Lord Armstrong and inform him that unless immediate payment is made we will have to repossess his house at Hanover Terrace.”

Charles slammed the paperwork down on the desk.

“You will do no such thing!” he almost shouted. “You will not write to my father under any circumstances regarding this!”

“But –”

“But nothing! You sit there in your cheap suit and with your tacky spectacles and dare to talk to me about such things!”

Mr Jones was taken aback and found himself getting angry. “This is the bank’s money, and we have a responsibility to our shareholders.”

“You should be honoured you have the Armstrongs as clients! You will leave this with me and you’ll get your bloody money.”

“Very well. I’m aware your father has considerable assets and will obviously not want to lose his London house. But I’m warning you, if we do not receive full payment, we will repossess that house. Good day.”

Dazed, Charles walked along Regent Street. He had to concede he had been living like one of the richest men in London, when clearly he wasn’t. Charles realised Jones was not messing around and would start taking the necessary steps to recoup the bank’s money. It would take only one letter to his father from the bank for his house of cards to come crashing down. His father and everyone else would find out about the fraudulent mortgage he had raised. Not to mention the fact he would be left penniless. He wracked his head trying to think of a solution. And then he thought of Hugh Fitzroy. His close and loyal and very rich friend. Hugh would lend him the money to stave of this disaster. What was the money to him? A drop in the ocean.

“This is unexpected,” said Hugh as he led Charles into the living room of his suite at Claridge’s. “You haven’t been over for a while.”

“No – I’ve been busy chaperoning Emily around.”

“I see,” said Hugh, sitting down. “Tea or something?”

“No, I’m all right for now.” Charles smiled over at Hugh. “I’ve come to see you because I need your help with something.”

“Name it and I’ll do it,” said Hugh.

Charles felt relieved. “You see, Hugh, I’ve got myself into a bit of a pickle.”

“How so?”

“A financial pickle, I’m afraid.”

“Go on.”

“Well, I took out a loan from the bank and now they are demanding it back, greedy bastards.”

“I see,” Hugh said, lost in thought.

“I thought there was enough money there to cover the loan, and when I checked the cupboard was bare, so to speak.”

Hugh said nothing as he studied Charles.

“A bit embarrassing really,” Charles rattled on. “Power can really go to some people’s heads. This little bank manager sat there lecturing me.”

“But your father is Lord Armstrong with that vast estate.”

“I know, but I can’t really go to him, you’ll understand. I’ll obviously own it all one day, but tomorrow isn’t today, and today is when I need the money. So I’d hoped . . .”

“That I would give you the money,” Hugh finished off the sentence.

“Lend it to me.” Charles smiled confidently at him.

Hugh took a long time to answer before saying, “No, I can’t.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I can’t lend you any more money.”

“Any more?” Charles looked bewildered.

“Yes, you already owe me a huge sum from all your card losses. I’ve been covering you for months.”

“Yes, I know, but –”

“Those wagers I covered for you were only loans – you knew that?”

“Yes, but –”

“Tom Hamley has kept an account of everything you lost and everything that’s owed to me from you.”

“By you,” Charles corrected his grammar.

“Money owed to me by you, in that case. You can check with Hamley – it comes to thousands.”

“And you waited until now when I come to you with money worries to throw this at me?” Charles felt himself become angry.

“Now’s as good a time as ever. More so, when you’ve just told me you have no money left to pay me back.”

“I think I’ll be going,” said Charles, standing up.

“Sit down!” commanded Hugh.

Charles looked at Hugh’s glaring eyes and slowly sat down again.

“I’m calling in my wager now. I want my money back, every last penny,” said Hugh.

“I’ve just told you I’m not in funds at the moment.”

“And won’t be for a long time, considering your father is in excellent health.”

Charles sat forward. “Yes, you covered my wagers, but what have I done for you? You were nobody or nothing when I met you. No family would have you in their house. A card game at Tom Hamley’s was all you could manage to be invited to and that was only because they all wanted your money.”

“Including you! I’m not saying you didn’t put the key in the door for me, but I opened the door, or rather my money did. Are you sure you don’t want that drink?”

“I don’t want anything from you, considering you keep a record of everything owed!”

Hugh sat back and crossed his legs. “I’m not saying we can’t come to some arrangement.”

“What kind of an arrangement?” said Charles coldly.

“Emily.”

“Emily?” Charles nearly shouted.

“I’m very fond of her.”

“So?”

“So . . . I want to marry her.”

Through his anger Charles managed to laugh. “You’re insane! Marry Emily! She wouldn’t even look at you.”

“I think you’re wrong. I think she’s taken with me.”

Charles sat forward and snapped. “You’re deluded!”

Anger flashed through Hugh’s eyes. “That’s the last time you ever look down on me! I’ve had enough of you telling me I need to speak properly, eat properly, walk properly – you pass judgement on me and you can’t even pay your bills!”

“It’s quite out of the question. Put any thoughts you are entertaining of marrying my sister out of your head. My sister is a lady. She’s one of the most well-connected young women around and you are nothing, I’m afraid.”

“I’m a millionaire.”

“Good for you, but that doesn’t really cut it with families like mine. I suggest you go back to that disgusting place you brought me to and find a wife to suit your sort there.”

“In that case, you pay me back all the money you owe me by the end of the week. If not the bailiffs will be knocking at your door. And not just the bailiffs, but I know some persuasive people from that disgusting place, as you call it, where I’m from and where I have many contacts. You don’t want these people coming and finding you or your lovely wife and children, I can guarantee you.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I’m warning you.”

Charles softened his voice. “Hugh . . . what you’re saying can never happen. You and Emily have nothing in common. My parents would never allow it.”

“For your sake it had better happen. I want you to smooth over this with Emily and your family. I want you to get Emily to marry me and for your family to accept it.”

“You’re asking the impossible and I refuse to do it.”

“Then you’d better have all that money ready for me by Friday.”

Charles was shaken after his meetings with Fitzroy and the bank manager. He had been pushed into the tightest corner of his life and was now facing ruin. He couldn’t sleep that night so he sat in the study thinking. He knew Hugh was not a man to joke around. He was owed considerable money and Charles didn’t even want to think how he would react if he didn’t get it. By the time the sun started to rise, he knew he had no option.

chapter 39

Charles and Emily rode their horses through Hyde Park together.

“It’s near summer’s end,” said Charles.

“I know!” said Emily, disheartened.

“You’ll soon be returning to Armstrong House.”

“I don’t want to think about it. I suppose I can come back next summer and do the season again,” she said hopefully.

“Mama will never allow that – she’ll have heard back from everybody that you made no effort to meet a husband this summer.”

Emily sighed heavily. “I suppose not.”

“So – what are you going to do now?”

“What can I do? I’ve no money of my own. I’ll have to remain at Armstrong House and . . .”

“Look after Mama and Papa into their old age, the spinster daughter.”

“Don’t, Charles! The thought of it depresses me too much.”

Charles chose his words carefully. “There are always options, Emily.”

“Not for me. Only two. Marry one of those awful boring men or remain a spinster.”

“Was . . . Hugh one of those awful boring men?”

“No, Hugh is different. I enjoyed being around him. He’s exciting.”

“He wants to marry you, Emily,” Charles said directly.

“What?” Emily turned to him, stunned.

“Oh, come on, Emily, you’re not that naïve, surely? All the attention he paid you, presents he sent. Making sure he was at every dance you were at. What did you think that was all about?”

“I – I knew he liked me and, yes, I suppose I knew he was interested in me. But I never thought he would actually want to marry me. I just thought he was, I don’t know . . . but, Charles, he’s not one of us.”

“I know.”

“Then I suppose I thought he would never contemplate a marriage with me, because he would never dream of marrying so much above his station.”

“Why not? He’s worked hard for what he has and he believes social barriers shouldn’t get in the way of what he wants – including you.”

Emily rode along in stunned silence for a long while.

“Well?” Charles asked eventually.

“I don’t know, Charles. I never contemplated marrying anyone. But . . . would I not be some kind of social outcast marrying a man like that?”

“Nobody will ostracise you with his money. Anyway, I didn’t think you cared about what people think?”

“I don’t! But there would be so much opposition. Mama and Papa would never allow it.”

“How could they stop it?”

“What do you think, Charles?”

“I think . . . I think you could have a wonderful life with someone like Hugh. You could travel to all the places you want to. You could go anywhere in the world and stay in the best places. Anything you want, you could have. It’s either that or returning to Armstrong House and doing nothing for the rest of your life but being the pitied unmarried younger daughter.”

Emily felt she was standing on the edge of a cliff, hearing this news. That she could so dramatically change her life forever.

“And he wouldn’t have the expectations from you that marrying one of the sons of the aristocracy would have. You wouldn’t have to host endless dinner parties, make small talk to people you don’t like, and have child after child. Marrying Hugh would make you free . . . isn’t that what you’ve always wanted, Emily?”

“Out of the question!” Arabella shrieked.

“It’s nothing to do with you!” retorted Emily.

“It’s everything to do with me,” said Arabella.

They were in the drawing room at Hanover Terrace after Emily and Charles had just broken the news.

“Emily, you have no idea what you’re doing. You’ll ruin your life if you marry that man!”

“It’s my life to ruin, nobody else’s,” said Emily. “Beside, I’ve said yes to him now, so it’s too late.”

“Of course it’s not!”

“I, unlike you, Arabella, do not break my promises. When I tell somebody I’m going to marry them, I’m not lying to him. Besides, Charles supports my decision.”

“Of course he doesn’t, how could he?” Arabella turned to look at Charles. “Charles?”

Charles shifted uncomfortably. “Well, it’s as Emily says – it’s her choice who she marries.”

Arabella stared at Charles, uncomprehendingly.

“See,” said Emily standing up. “Now, I’m far too busy to be sitting around discussing something that’s already been decided.”

“And who is going to break this news to your parents?” demanded Arabella.

“I will,” said Emily, heading towards the door.

“They’ll never permit it!” Arabella shouted after her.

Arabella lay on the bed in a long ivory silk nightdress. She surveyed Charles who was beginning to undress.

“Tell me, Charles, what’s in all this for you?” she said, looking at him coldly.

“For me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know you too well, Charles. There’s no way you’d permit this wedding unless there’s something in it for you.”

He glared at her angrily. “You’d want to watch what you say.”

She started laughing. “You’ve sunk to a new low. That you’d betray your sister in this way, for whatever financial gain is in it for you –”

“That’s a fucking lie!”

“I suppose it’s not that surprising. I mean, you tricked your brother out of marriage with me, so it shouldn’t be that difficult to trick your sister into a marriage with Fitzroy.”

“I tricked nobody out or in to anything. You couldn’t keep out of my bed, from what I remember.”

“Charles, I’m begging you to stop Emily going through with this. If she means anything to you, do not allow her to marry Fitzroy.”

“As if Emily would listen to me!”

“You’re the only person she will listen to!” Arabella’s voice rose to a shout. “She’s doing this out of defiance to her parents and to her family. And you have to stop her!”

“As she said, it’s nothing to do with you, so keep fucking out of it!” His face was contorted as he roared.

The door of the bedroom opened and Prudence walked in.

“Mama, Papa,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

Arabella gave Charles a filthy look and then went quickly to Prudence and picked her up.

“Sorry, darling,” she soothed. “Did we wake you up?”

Prudence nodded.

Isabelle came rushing in. “Mademoiselle Prudence! I’m so sorry, my lady – she slipped out of the nursery without waking me!” Isabelle took the child from Arabella and quickly went back to the nursery.

Arabella turned to Charles. “I’ll sleep with the children in the nursery tonight.”

“Good. I hope you’ll be comfortable there!” Charles said as she left.

Charles pulled off his shirt and flung it across the room. Damn Fitzroy and his blackmail. He had no choice but to go through with the plan.

chapter 40

Margaret went marching into the library at Armstrong House holding a letter.

“A letter from Gwyneth,” she announced.

“How is the new baby?” asked Lawrence smiling.

“Fine, fine. More importantly she writes that Emily has got engaged!”

Lawrence sat back, bowled over. “I hardly believe it! To whom?”

“Well, that’s just the point. To somebody we’ve never heard of before – a Hugh Fitzroy.”

“Who?”

“Exactly! Gwyneth writes that he’s a friend of Charles, very rich. But . . .”

“But what?”

“I know my Gwyneth and she’s not saying much about him. That’s a bad sign, Lawrence. She’s not enthusing about his virtues. She just says we should meet him as soon as possible.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“She was introduced to at least two hundred young men that we knew or who were recommended by our friends whose families we know and trust – how did she end up with this Hugh Fitzroy?” Margaret’s face clouded with concern.

A flurry of correspondences scurried between Armstrong House and London following on this. Margaret inquired from all her friends what they knew of Hugh Fitzroy and a sketchy and unflattering image was created.

September 18th

Dear Lady Margaret,

Congratulations on Emily’s engagement to Mr Fitzroy. I have to say we were all surprised to hear the news! You asked me in your letter what I know of Mr Fitzroy.

I’m afraid the answer is: not very much. He arrived on the scene in London some time ago and he has certainly made an impression, but, alas, not the best impression.

Although generous to a fault, he seems to think he can use his money to gain acceptance and influence in circles that he was obviously not born to. Although polite, his manners are somewhat primitive. I know Emily was always an independently minded girl, but this borders on being revolutionary-minded! I don’t mean to concern you, but you did ask me to write candidly. All I can say is that if it was a daughter of mine, I would want to meet this man at the earliest opportunity. It’s such a pity that the Duchess of Battington was so housebound during her pregnancy and not able to chaperone her sister adequately. The Armstrong family is such a respected family with such excellent breeding, it is a concern for all that you will be infiltrated by that man. I urge you to meet Mr Fitzroy at your earliest convenience in order to make up your own minds.

I remain your friend,

Lady Hollander

Margaret crumpled the letter in her hands as she screamed at the top of her voice, “Lawrence!”

Charles, Arabella and Emily were summoned to Armstrong House immediately and an invitation to Hugh Fitzroy extended.

On the day they were all due to arrive Margaret was in a state of near panic as letter after letter had arrived from friends who knew of Hugh and voiced their concerns to the Armstrongs.

“Now remember, Margaret, do not say anything negative about the wedding until after we’ve met Fitzroy,” warned Lawrence. “If Emily sees we are against the match as soon as we meet her, she’ll say we had already made up our minds about him before meeting him.”

“I will try to keep my mouth shut,” agreed Margaret.

Arabella sat with Charles and Emily in the carriage that had been sent to bring them from the station at Castlewest to the house. She was filled with dread. Hugh was due to arrive later that evening and she could only imagine Margaret and Lawrence’s reaction to him. Charles and Emily seemed immune to the coming storm as they chatted and joked away beside her. She wished she could have their sense of lightness to life. But as the carriage circled around the lake and Armstrong House came into view, she realised she had always a sense of dread when she came to this place and she couldn’t wait to return to London as soon as possible, to her life and her children who had been left in the care of Gwyneth there.

Emily raced into the drawing room and kissed her parents.

“Mama! How are you feeling now?” asked Emily.

“The doctor said I’m well on the road to recovery,” Margaret assured her.

She viewed Charles and Arabella coldly as they came into the room.

“Charles . . . Arabella,” she greeted them, then briefly kissed them both.

Lawrence tugged the bell pull and ordered tea and sandwiches when the butler came.

“How are little Prudence and Pierce?” asked Lawrence.

“Oh, just fine. Prudence is way ahead of her years. She’s into everything!” said Charles. “I’ve never seen a child like her.”

“And Pierce?” asked Margaret.

“Pierce is an adorable child,” said Arabella. “No trouble at all. He is literally mobbed by mothers besotted with him when I take him walking in Regent’s Park.”

“I sometimes wish their roles were reversed,” laughed Charles. “It should be Pierce who’s into everything and Prudence admired.”

“Well, we can’t help how our children turn out,” said Margaret, not leaving the bitterness out of her voice as she looked at Emily.

“What time is Mr Fitzroy due to arrive?” asked Lawrence.

“Hugh should arrive at Armstrong House this evening. He’s very much looking forward to meeting you all,” said Emily happily.

“As we are him,” said Margaret.

“We’re talking about going to South America for our honeymoon!”

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” warned Margaret.

That evening as the carriage pulled up in the forecourt in front of Armstrong House, Hugh stepped out and looked up at the regal building in awe.

The front door opened and the butler and footman came down to take his luggage.

“Lord and Lady Armstrong are waiting for you in the drawing room,” said the butler as Hugh entered the hall and marvelled at all the portraits of the Armstrong ancestors on the walls.

When Hugh was shown into the drawing room, Lawrence and Margaret made their minds up about him in ten seconds flat. This was a man who could never be allowed to marry their daughter.

“Mr Fitzroy, how nice of you to visit,” said Margaret, rising from her chair and extending her hand for him to shake.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” said Hugh.

“How do you do?” said Lawrence formally as he shook his hand.

Emily rushed to him and gave him a hug.

“Emily!” snapped Margaret. “Remember yourself!”

“You see, I told you how stuffy they were! It’s all protocol and manners around here,” said Emily, laughing as she sat down again.

Arabella and Charles came forward to greet him.

“Hello, Hugh,” said Arabella, feeling a knot of tension in her stomach.

“Arabella – Charles,” nodded Hugh.

“We’ve put you in the Blue Room – it has a lovely aspect out onto the lake,” said Margaret. “We’re serving dinner in an hour, so perhaps the butler should take you straight there so you can freshen up and dress for dinner.”

Hugh was surprised by this sudden order.

“If you care to follow the butler up,” insisted Margaret as she gestured to the butler standing behind him.

“Of course,” said Hugh and he turned to leave.

“Isn’t he wonderful?” smiled Emily once he had left.

Margaret and Lawrence sat saying nothing and glaring at Charles and Arabella coldly.

A dinner of roast beef was served in the dining room that night. Lawrence and Margaret sat at either end of the table, Charles and Arabella to one side, Emily and Hugh to the other.

“I trust you had a good journey?” asked Lawrence.

“Yes,” nodded Hugh. “I’ve never been to Ireland before.”

“Really?” said Margaret. “I understood you had been to everywhere?”

“Not Ireland,” said Hugh. “You really get the feeling as you travel across Ireland to the west coast here that you’re going to the end of the world . . . next stop America.”

“It might feel like the end of the world to you, Mr Fitzroy, but it’s the centre of ours. The Armstrongs have been here for three hundred years.”

“Yes, I’ve been reading up on Irish history,” said Hugh.

“Really? I wouldn’t have taken you for a man much given to reading,” said Margaret acidly.

“Mother!” Emily protested.

Hugh glared at Margaret. “I understand that most of the Irish aristocracy like yourselves were originally soldiers in the British army that the King couldn’t afford to pay so he paid them with these vast estates where the land was stolen from the original Irish native owners, who are now your tenant farmers.”

Everyone, including Emily, stared at Hugh in disbelief at what he had said.

“The Armstrong estate is legally owned by me, Mr Fitzroy,” said Lawrence evenly. “You have no need to fear that you are staying on any stolen property.”

“And the Armstrongs were never soldiers, Mr Fitzroy,” said Margaret, amazed at his rudeness. “The Armstrongs have a pedigree going back many hundreds of years.”

“Of course . . . I’m just saying we’re all the same, aren’t we?”

“I doubt we have that much in common with you,” said Margaret.

“I’m just saying family fortunes have to be built somewhere by someone originally, and it usually comes at the expense of others,” said Hugh.

“And what of your own family, Mr Fitzroy?” said Margaret. “You have the most unusual accent.”

“I’m from London,” stated Hugh.

“What part? Kensington? Chelsea?” Margaret looked at him condescendingly.

“No, further east,” said Hugh.

“A lot further east, I imagine,” said Lawrence knowingly.

“And do you have a large family?” asked Margaret. “Will there be many at this wedding you are planning with our daughter? Is Armstrong House to be filled on the day by the good working people of Whitechapel?”

“I don’t have much family, Lady Armstrong, and the few I have I’m no longer in contact with,” said Hugh.

“Indeed! Probably wise!” said Margaret.

“And I believe you live in a hotel?” asked Lawrence incredulously.

“At Claridge’s, yes.”

“And do you propose that my daughter live at Claridge’s as well if this marriage takes place?” questioned Margaret.

“Of course not. When I marry Emily, I plan to buy a house – perhaps in Regent’s Park.”

Arabella could not finish the delicious food on her plate as the dinner continued to be a volley of subtle insults and she longed for the night to be over.

The next day Hugh was in the hall examining the portraits on the walls. Charles came down the stairs and approached him carefully.

“Your ancestors?” asked Hugh.

“Yes. This one here you are looking at is of my grandparents, Lord Edward and Lady Anna. He built this house for her as a wedding present.”

“What a lovely idea. Giving a house to your bride . . . I wonder will my portrait hang here one day?”

Charles looked at him, wondering how deluded he could be. “Hardly. These are all the heirs, their wives and children who lived at Armstrong House. That will never be you. Eh, Hugh, about the gambling money I owe you?”

Hugh turned from the paintings and faced Charles. “Oh, yes, consider it paid. I’ve already informed Tom Hamley to cancel it.”

Charles felt overcome with relief. “And the matter of the arrears on the mortgage I owe the bank which I discussed with you?”

Hugh looked surprised. “Yes, of course, I’ll take it up with the bank. Can you send me the details of what is owed and who I should address about the matter?”

“Of course. It’s a tiresome little man called Jones. I’ll forward you the details as soon as I get back to London.”

Hugh stretched out his hand. “Our deal is done.”

Charles looked at his hand and then shook it, feeling relieved.

Emily stood in the forecourt waving to Hugh as his carriage went down the driveway.

The butler came out to her. “Lady Emily, your parents want to see you in the drawing room.”

Sighing she went inside the house and braced herself as she went into the drawing room where she found her parents and Charles and Arabella waiting for her. She felt relieved that Charles was there too. He would support her.

“Well, I have to say, you were incredibly rude to Hugh,” Emily said, deciding to go on the offensive.

“Rude!” said Margaret. “It’s you who has been rude bringing a man like that in to our home!”

“What do you mean – a man like that?” Emily said, getting angry.

“I mean he has no breeding whatsoever! And you the daughter of an earl marrying a man like that!”

“Emily, it’s inconceivable that you should marry this man,” said Lawrence. “Now he might be very industrious and ambitious, but he’s as common as muck.”

“As you kept pointing out to him at any opportunity. I wonder about you – you go on and on about etiquette and manners and then give the most disgusting display of manners I’ve ever seen.”

“The engagement will have to end immediately. I will write to Mr Fitzroy and tell him it is over,” said Lawrence.

“You’ll do no such thing!” said Emily angrily, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ve made my mind up and I will marry him.”

“Right, Emily, you’ve played your prank on us now,” said Margaret. “You’ve managed to prove yet again how far you’ll go to show how independent you are. You’ve shown your contempt of both your family and society. But this is where the joke ends!”

“The wedding can’t continue because I’ll not give a dowry to that man,” said Lawrence.

“He doesn’t want a dowry from you. He told me flatly he would refuse any money from you.”

Margaret looked at her husband, worried. “We will not permit the wedding to take place in Armstrong House, so it can’t continue.”

“We don’t want to get married here. We’ve already decided we’re getting married in St Paul’s Cathedral or Westminster and we’re having the reception at The Dorchester Hotel.”

“In a hotel!” Margaret was aghast.

“It’s becoming ever so popular having wedding receptions in hotels – it’s becoming all the rage,” said Charles.

“So you see, we need nothing from you,” said Emily.

“Well, your father won’t give you away on the day and I won’t attend, as I’m sure none of your brothers or sisters will either.”

“Don’t come then!” Emily’s voice rose further. “Charles will walk me down the aisle and give me away, won’t you, Charles?”

All eyes turned to Charles.

“Charles?” asked Lawrence.

“Yes, yes, I will. I will give Emily away,” confirmed Charles.

“Oh Charles!” sighed Arabella under her breath as she rubbed her forehead in distress.

“This wedding will take place and there’s nothing you can do about it,” stated Emily. “But you will come, Mother. You will come, Father.”

“What makes you think that?” demanded Margaret.

“Because you won’t have the scandal of not attending. You will grit your teeth and pretend everything is perfect on the day. Because that’s what you do. You cover up anything you don’t like for the sake of the family reputation. You’ll go to any lengths to avoid a scandal. That’s what you did when Arabella got pregnant by Charles!”

“Emily!” shouted Lawrence.

“Yes, I know all about it. I was listening at the doors. She was pregnant by Charles and you concocted the whole plan that she go to France and lie about when Prudence was born. None of you cared about Harrison – you were delighted he left and you could get on with your deception. You threw him out like the rubbish – he was just a casualty you sacrificed to cover up your sordid little secret! At least Hugh is honest, something none of you know anything about!”

She stood up and marched from the room, slamming the door behind her.

They sat in silence, stunned.

“I can’t believe she knew all along,” said Arabella eventually, shaking her head.

“You may well shake your head – I hope you are shaking your head in shame!” said Margaret crossly.

“Now, Mother –” began Charles.

“I hold you, Charles, and you, Arabella, completely responsible for this debacle. I had no idea Gwyneth was so poorly and that you were stepping in as Emily’s chaperone, Arabella. It was bound to end in disaster.”

“Well, I knew it was only a matter of time before I got the blame for all this!” said Arabella.

“Well, who else is to blame? She was in your home under your care, albeit not known to me!”

“I did try to warn Emily to stay away from Hugh,” Arabella defended herself.

“Well, you mustn’t have done a good job warning her!” Margaret’s voice rose.

“Margaret, calm down,” said Lawrence.

“I will not calm down! Not content with ruining Harrison’s life, the two of you have now ruined Emily’s as well!”

“Emily is a grown woman, who can make her own decisions,” said Charles.

“Emily is a fool who thinks she knows everything and knows nothing!” said Lawrence. “What were you even thinking of, being acquainted with a man like that? How did you even meet him?”

“I met him through friends.”

“I can only imagine what kind of life you’re living in London, hanging around with Fitzroy. Living the good life, no responsibility, when you should be here taking up your rightful position,” accused Lawrence.

“I’m disgusted beyond belief,” said Margaret. “To have my beautiful daughter end up in a marriage with a man with no background, breeding, education – need I go on!”

“And what were you thinking of saying you’ll walk her down the aisle?” Lawrence renewed his attack on Charles. “You’ve given her your approval, Charles!”

“I’m afraid I need to go and lie down,” said Arabella.

“We all need to lie down!” countered Margaret.

Arabella left the room quickly.

The remaining three sat in silence for a long while.

“The reality is Emily is determined to marry him and there’s nothing you can do,” said Charles at last. “You need to accept her decision. If she doesn’t marry Hugh Fitzroy, then she’ll marry nobody.”

“I would so much prefer for her to marry nobody,” said Margaret.

Lighting a cigarette Charles walked across the forecourt and down the steps to the first terrace. He continued into the gardens where he found Emily walking on her own.

“You’ve caused quite a stir,” he said.

She held him tightly. “Why don’t they want me to be happy?”

“They’ve accepted your decision. They’ll support your marriage to Hugh. They are very unhappy but I’ve smoothed it over with them.”

“Charles, I knew I could rely on you,” she smiled up into his face. “We’ve always been able to count on each other . . . we’re as thick as thieves.”

“That’s right,” nodded Charles. “Thick as thieves.”

That night when Charles came into the bedroom he found Arabella lying awake in bed. She had stayed in the room all day, not even coming down for dinner and Charles had not gone up to see her.

“They’ve accepted her decision,” he informed her.

She looked at him coldly. “Thank you for letting me take the blame for the whole thing.”

“I didn’t let you take the blame. They hold me equally responsible.”

“Equally responsible!” her voice rose. “I had no hand in this whatsoever! It’s you that’s behind it all.”

“I’m not behind anything,” he said angrily.

“Whatever the truth is, and only you know the truth, I hope you can live with yourself in the future, when Emily’s life is miserable.”

“Travelling first class around the world? Doing everything she wants to? She’s been given her freedom.”

“She’s been given a life sentence.” Arabella turned away from him on to her side.

chapter 41

Margaret and Lawrence kept hoping that Emily would see sense and call off the wedding, but as the weeks flew into months, they realised Emily was not for turning.

Finally the week of the wedding arrived. As Hugh and Emily had planned, they were to be married in London at Westminster Abbey with the reception at The Dorchester. The family were all staying at the house in Hanover Terrace for the event.

Invitations were issued to all the right people in London. But as Margaret expected only half were accepted.

“Well, if they don’t want us, then we don’t want them,” said Emily, unconcerned.

It was the morning of the wedding and the family was waiting in the hallway at Hanover Terrace for Emily to come down.

She finally appeared and came slowly down the stairs in her wedding dress with Gwyneth behind her.

“You look stunning,” said Charles, kissing her.

“We’d better get going,” said Margaret. “We don’t want to keep the congregation waiting too long – it was hard enough to get them there in the first place.” She wiped away her tears and kissed Emily. “We’ll see you at the church.”

“Good luck,” said Arabella, kissing her.

“You can come in our carriage, Mother,” offered Charles.

“No, thank you, I’d prefer to travel with Gwyneth,” Margaret sniffled as she left with her eldest daughter.

“We’ll give you twenty minutes and then Emily and I will follow you,” said Lawrence as the family left.

Then he was alone with his daughter.

“Are you sure?” he asked one last time.

“Very sure!” she answered and he came and hugged her.

“You know your mother and I only want what’s best for you,” he said.

“You want what is best for you, Papa, not me,” she said.

There was suddenly a loud knock on the door.

“Burchill! Get that, would you?” shouted Lawrence as Emily went to check her appearance one more time in the mirror in the hall.

“Probably a neighbour come to wish me luck,” said Emily.

“Can I help you?” asked Burchill, looking in confusion at the eight men standing there.

The men walked in past Burchill and the eldest said, “We’re from Matheson, Matheson & Sons.”

“You can’t just walk in like this – what do you want?” demanded Burchill, shocked.

Lawrence stepped forward. “Who on earth are you and what do you want? Leave immediately or I’ll call the police!”

“No need for that, guvnor – we’re here to take the furniture,” said the man as his colleagues started picking up furniture and walking out the door with it.

“You’re obviously in the wrong house,” Lawrence shouted.

“No mistake,” said the man as he put down a chair he was carrying. He reached into his pocket and took out a notice which he handed to Lawrence. “This is the house of Lord Lawrence Armstrong?”

“That’s correct.”

“That’s a court order on behalf of the bank to take all furniture and belongings from the house. We’re to take everything immediately to Sotheby’s who are selling everything as quickly as possible for the bank to get its money back,” said the man.

“Bank? Take possessions?” Lawrence read quickly through the order. “But there must be some mistake. This is Jones at Coutts Bank who applied for the order?”

“That’s right, sir.”

“I must go and talk to him straight away and see what on earth is going on,” said Lawrence.

“Papa! We have to get to the church!” said Emily, distressed, as the mirror she had been looking at was taken down and carried away.

Lawrence thought for a moment before crossing into the study. “Burchill, follow me.”

Lawrence sat down at the writing desk and started to write a letter.

“Burchill, you’re to take this letter immediately to the bank at this address and give it personally to the manager, Jones. You are to demand he write an explanation to me as to what is going on and bring me his letter to The Dorchester Hotel.”

“Very well, Lord Armstrong.”

“I’m outraged! What does the bank think it is doing?”

“Papa, we really have to go!” Emily demanded.

Lawrence got up quickly and the two made their way past the removal men and out to their waiting carriage.

Emily walked down the aisle, smiling, on the arm of Hugh who looked smugly at the guests. Lawrence had been unable to concentrate on the ceremony he had been so taken aback by the scene he had witnessed that morning in the house.

He immediately sought out Charles amongst the guests outside the Abbey.

“Charles, removal men arrived at the house just after you left and began to seize all the furniture. What is this about?”

Charles paled on hearing the news. “I haven’t a clue!”

“They produced a court order from the bank. I’ve sent Burchill to Jones to get a full explanation,” said Lawrence.

Appalled, Charles quickly searched through the crowd for Hugh and took him aside.

“I need to talk to you urgently,” Charles whispered to him.

“Charles! It’s my wedding day, it’ll have to wait,” said Hugh, moving away from him to the guests.

As the party moved back to The Dorchester for the wedding breakfast, Charles waited for his moment to get Hugh on his own. But Emily was beside him at all times.

“What’s wrong with you?” Arabella asked Charles, noticing his agitation, as they sat at one of the head tables.

He ignored her as he saw Burchill arrive and discreetly make his way through the function room to the head table and hand Lawrence a letter. Charles watched as Lawrence tore open the envelope and read. Lawrence suddenly looked up and looked around the room, searching for Charles. Spotting him, Lawrence stared at him in fury.

Charles suddenly got up from the table and began to walk quickly to the door. Startled, Arabella saw Lawrence and Margaret get up from their seats and hurry after him. Arabella decided to follow and hurried out to the huge foyer outside the banquet room.

“Charles!” said Lawrence, waving the letter from the bank in front of him. “Jones has written to say my house is repossessed for non-payment of a mortgage taken by myself on the property! That the furniture has been taken to be auctioned off tomorrow at Sotheby’s as the bank wants its money back without delay!”

“What have you done, Charles?” demanded Margaret furiously.

“There must be some mistake,” said Charles. “The repayments have been settled.”

“What repayments?” shouted Lawrence, causing the passing hotel staff to look over, concerned. “What is this mortgage Jones is talking about. I have no mortgage on that house!”

Charles shifted uncomfortably before explaining. “I took out a loan and offered Hanover Terrace as collateral.”

“On my house, without my permission?” Lawrence screamed.

“Lawrence!” whispered Margaret. “Shhh!”

“It was only a temporary measure. And I had arranged for the repayment. The bank has made a mistake.”

“No, you are the one who has made a mistake!” said Lawrence. “How did you secure a loan against the house without my signature on the documents?”

Charles said nothing as he stared ahead.

“You have surpassed yourself, Charles, and that takes some doing!” said Margaret.

“You are despicable!” said Lawrence. “That house was bought by my father and you just gambled it away as if it were a bag of sweets! You’ve gone too far this time, Charles. I could put up with your fecklessness, your lack of responsibility, your greed. But now you can add fraud to your list of credits. You ruined Harrison’s life, you’ve ruined Emily’s life, and now you’ve lost our precious London home!”

Margaret stared at Arabella. “And what part did you play in all this?”

“None! This is the first I’ve heard of it,” Arabella defended herself, her head spinning from the revelations.

“I’m so ashamed of you!” said Lawrence, with tears in his eyes, then suddenly turned and walked off.

“This isn’t over,” warned Margaret. “Not by a long shot!”

“Charles?” said Arabella, looking for some kind of an explanation, but Charles just turned and walked away.

Hugh was chatting to some guests. “Yes, my wife and I will be looking for a suitable residence as soon as we return from South America.”

“There’s a house on my street for sale, if you are interested,” said a guest.

“No, the houses on your street are far too small for what Mrs Fitzroy will be needing,” said Hugh dismissively.

Charles grabbed Hugh’s arm. “I need to speak to you. Now!”

Hugh looked at him irritably and excused himself from his guests.

“What is it?” asked Hugh.

“The bank has repossessed the house – they’ve already taken all the furniture away. Did you pay them the money?”

“The money? Oh, you mean the money you owed them? No, I didn’t.”

Charles erupted in anger. “Well, why the fuck not? They’ve taken the house away, my father knows about it and I’m ruined!”

“I never said I’d pay off your mortgage with the bank. I just said I’d cancel all the money you owed me over the gambling debts.”

“But you said you’d make contact with Jones!”

“And I did, and then when he told me how much was outstanding I declined to pay it.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I’ve been busy organising the wedding.” Hugh surveyed the function room of well-dressed people. “Look at them all, the cream of society at my wedding, eating my food and drinking my champagne. Are they finally accepting me? I don’t think so, but I’m too rich and generous for them to ignore. But now with my new wife, I’m one of them. Lady Emily Armstrong. Oh, I know they will laugh and talk about me behind my back, but Emily is one of them and I’m now married to her and there’s nothing they can do about it.”

“You’ve crossed me. I expected you to pay that mortgage off. Emily would never even have looked at you if I hadn’t talked her in to it.”

“And I’m thankful to you. You’ve given me the respectability I craved.”

“You’re a bastard.”

“In this case,” said Hugh, placing a hand on Charles’ shoulder and whispering into his ear, “it really does take one to know one – brother-in-law. Now I have to get back to my guests and my wife.”

“I’ll get you back for this one day,” warned Charles as Hugh walked away.

Hugh was laughing as he went over to Emily and kissed her.

Arabella tried to act normally for the rest of the wedding day but she found it almost impossible as questions danced around her mind. Why did he take the mortgage? How did he manage it? Why did he need it with her dowry in place? And what would become of them now with their home gone? She would never forget the looks on Lawrence’s and Margaret’s faces: a mixture of disgust, horror and anger.

There was no sign of Charles and she realised he must have left the wedding. Typical Charles, she thought, running out and leaving her to deal with the mess. As what Charles did was related to the rest of the Armstrong family, she had to put up with their questions and their accusing eyes.

That evening it was arranged for Margaret and Lawrence to go and stay with Gwyneth. Gwyneth kindly agreed to take Prudence and Pierce with her as well, as Arabella desperately needed to talk to Charles and find out what was going on. As she sat in the back of a hansom cab on her way home she hoped Charles would be back in Hanover Terrace.

The cab pulled up outside the house and the driver helped her to dismount. She walked up the steps and knocked on the door. No one answered so, puzzled, she let herself in with her key. An eerie silence hung over the house as she walked through the empty hall. She looked through the open door to their once splendid dining room and she saw it had been stripped bare as well. She walked up the stairs and into the now empty drawing room.

She saw Charles standing there, staring out the balcony window.

“You’re back?” he said seeing her reflection in the window pane before him.

“You should have told me you were leaving The Dorchester,” she said.

He turned to face her. “I suppose I should have told you a lot of things.”

“It’s true then . . . they’ve taken the house . . . Why did you need a loan from the bank?”

“To fund our life of course,” said Charles.

“But my dowry – we have my dowry!”

“That, my dear, disappeared long ago.”

“What?”

“It’s spent.”

“Lost at gambling tables around London, you mean!” Arabella was furious.

She walked around the room. “Where are the servants?”

“Gone. I explained to them there was no money to pay them.”

“How much money have we got left?” She was almost afraid to ask.

“Nothing. The mortgage loan kept us going for a while but now that’s gone too.”

“How did you ever let it get to this?” she demanded.

“There’s no point in analysing what went wrong.”

“There is to me! But what are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you’d better start thinking! Do you know something? One day somebody is going to kill you . . . and it could very well be me.”