The Return of Lord Avondale (London Season Matchmaker 1) - Page 7

Should the truth have come out, then all of Lord Northgate’s children would have been smeared by scandal. Lord Northgate’s eldest, Harrington, was due to wed in a few weeks’ time, and Northgate feared that the engagement would come to an end should news of Rebecca’s predicament reach society’s ears. Beatrice too, his youngest daughter, would never be able to find a suitable match, should the world know of Rebecca’s pregnancy.

It had all been set onto Jeremy’s shoulders and he had not had any other choice but to accept the responsibility of it. Family came first, did it not? And, of course, he could not tell even Eliza the truth of why he had to suddenly go to marry another, why he had to bring an end to what had been between them.

He had married Rebecca, his cousin, so that his family might be spared the shame and disgrace that came with her being with child outside of marriage. She had barely said a word to him in all the months they had been husband and wife, becoming almost a wraith as she floated around the estate, pale and silent. Little wonder, then, that when the time had come for her to give birth, she had not had the strength to do so.

Both she and the babe had died.

“You need not think that I shall discourage you from pursuing what you have long desired, Avondale,” his uncle murmured, breaking through Jeremy’s colliding thoughts. “I know all too well that you cared deeply for Miss Wells.”

Jeremy shook his head. “Be that as it may, she is not willing to either see nor speak to me,” he replied, gruffly, hiding his emotion. “Which I can understand entirely. It is not to be, it seems. I am not to have any hope of reconciliation.”

Lord Northgate sighed heavily and sipped his brandy. “I would speak to her on your behalf if I could,” he stated, honestly, “but I fear it would bring shame onto our good family name, shame that we have tried so hard to hide.”

Jeremy nodded, feeling utterly miserable. “Miss Wells herself would not say a word, I am certain of it, but as I have already promised that I would not declare what had occurred with Rebecca to any other….” He trailed off, picking up his own brandy glass and draining it.

Lord Northgate watched him for a long moment, setting his now empty glass back down upon the table. “You are a gentleman of honor, Avondale. We are, of course, desperately grateful for your sacrifice and for your willingness to come to Rebecca’s aid when she needed you.”

Jeremy waved a hand, not wanting to accept any accolades. “I did nothing for your daughter, Northgate,” he stated, honesty pouring into his words. “We w

ere not friends. We were barely companions. She did not speak to me during those short months, seeming to lose herself in memories and in regret.” He shook his head, sitting forward and placing his elbows on his knees. “She was my dear cousin, of course, but I confess that I felt nothing for her.” Guilt assuaged him for a moment, wrapping its arms around his neck, until Lord Northgate’s voice broke in and pushed it aside.

“We have never expected that from you, Avondale,” he replied calmly. “You did your duty and for that, we are grateful.” He held Jeremy’s gaze, a quiet look of appreciation in his eyes. “And I wish you the very best this Season. I shall pray that Eliza might return to you again.”

Jeremy shook his head, sighing heavily as he thrust one hand into his hair in a gesture of exasperation. “I highly doubt your prayers will be answered, Uncle.”

His uncle smiled. “But still, I shall pray regardless.” A seriousness flickered in his eyes. “What of my daughter’s things? Are they still at the estate?”

Jeremy nodded. “I must tell you that I have failed somewhat in my duties and have not yet looked through all of her belongings,” he said, sadly. “I have still to do so, even though my time of mourning is complete.” He flung a hand towards Lord Northgate. “But you may do so, if you wish it. Simply say the word and I shall write to my staff and inform them that you are soon to be present at the estate.”

Lord Northgate shook his head. “No, indeed not. You were her husband and therefore the duty lies with you. I shall not do so until you have done so first.” He smiled at Jeremy, who did not quite manage to return it. “I am not chastising you nor urging you to do so now. It will be done when you are ready, will it not?”

“Yes, it shall be,” Jeremy agreed, heavily.

“And mayhap you shall find something that will tell us which dastardly gentleman did such a thing to my dear Rebecca.”

The anger that flooded Lord Northgate’s voice had Jeremy looking up in surprise, seeing the grim expression writing itself onto his uncle’s face. In all the time he had been married to Rebecca, he had never heard her mention what had occurred and now, it seemed, she had not said anything to her own father either.

“You did not know that I was at as much of a loss as you,” Lord Northgate commented, seeing Jeremy’s surprised look. “My daughter refused to say a single word about the gentleman in question, not even when she was spoken to at length on the subject.” He shook his head, his white hair bobbing about furiously on the top of his head. “I could not get the truth from her. She was deeply ashamed and frightened of what would happen to her. She shut herself away, both inwardly and outwardly. No, Avondale, I have never been able to discover which gentleman it was that put my daughter into such dire straits.”

An idea began to flicker in Jeremy’s mind. “Then mayhap I should set my mind upon discovering who it was,” he stated, softly, letting his gaze travel towards the flickering flames of the fire, as though they might confirm his suggestion.

His uncle, however, frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You have always told me, Northgate, that the gentleman responsible for your daughter’s predicament refused to wed her. That he abandoned her and set her aside. Is that not so?”

Lord Northgate nodded. “It is.”

“Then it is only just and fair that I should discover who did such a terrible thing, so that amends might be made,” Jeremy continued, quickly. “Or at least so that this gentleman might be shown to be entirely unsuitable for any other young lady of the ton.”

Lord Northgate nodded slowly, rubbing his chin with one long, bony finger. “So that no other young lady is in danger of enduring what Rebecca was forced to endure,” he said, slowly, his mind obviously still chewing over the suggestion. “But how can you do so if you have no particular idea as to whom this fellow might be?”

Jeremy shrugged. “I can make discreet enquiries, can I not? I can talk of my cousin Rebecca, who was in London for the Season some two years ago and see who might remember her. Someone might know the name of the gentlemen eager to be in her company?”

Sighing heavily, Lord Northgate closed his eyes. “If only that wretched woman had done what she had been paid to do,” he said, with a touch of anger in his voice. “Then my daughter might still be with us at this very moment!”

Jeremy stopped talking, seeing the frustration and the pain and allowing his uncle time to endure it. Lord Northgate was talking of the companion he had hired to take care of Rebecca during the Season, for his own dear wife had departed this earth some years before. The companion, Mrs. Stately, had done very little for Rebecca, it seemed, allowing her more freedom than she ought. And, of course, Lord Northgate had stated that Rebecca would have thought this truly wonderful instead of telling her father that her companion was failing in her duties.

“But enough, enough now,” Lord Northgate continued, heavily. “I shall not let it linger within me any longer.” A tight smile pulled his lips across his face. “To live in the past is to let it eat away at your very soul, I think.”

Tags: Lucy Adams London Season Matchmaker Historical
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