Page 75 of The Duke Who Loved a Widow
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As Arabella walked into the house, Mr Smithson, the butler, handed her a silver tray with a letter on it.
She took a deep breath and managed to murmur her thanks. Then, holding the letter so tightly she felt the nails digging into the palm of her hand, she went into the library, which was usually empty, to sit and stare at the letter.
It was the same paper and style of envelope as the other letters from Christopher Farrington’s solicitor. She sat staring at it, reluctant to open it, fear freezing her to the chair. Eventually,she stood, took the letter, and knocked on Sir Joseph’s study door.
He smiled in welcome, then, conscious that something was wrong, ushered her to a chair.
Wordlessly she handed him the letter. “This arrived. I know it is cowardly, but I’m scared to open it,” she told him.
Sir Joseph took the letter, but before he opened it, he poured two glasses of French cognac. He opened the letter and scanned its contents. He peered at her over the top of the paper.
“This is not unexpected. We knew he had petitioned the court to end the joint guardianship. This firm of solicitors is not the court. We must wait to hear directly from them. What is written here may or may not be true,” he told her
“Tell me, Uncle Joseph. I believe I know its contents, which is why I could not find the strength to open it.” Her voice was ragged with anxiety.
Sir Joseph sat close to her and paraphrased the content of the letter.
“It seems Christopher has been given temporary sole guardianship pending a final decision. Brace yourself, my dear, and remember that we are building a strong case against these allegations. You are not an unfit mother, and any evidence I haveseen has been hearsay, based on suspicious witness statements,” Uncle Joseph tried to reassure her.
Arabella began trembling uncontrollably, unable to think, paralyzed by fear.
She vaguely heard Uncle Joseph open the door and ask Smithson to fetch Aunt Grace.
“I’m going to tell you the contents, as I believe you need to know. I wish I could hide this from you, but you need to know everything they say.”
She nodded. “I know I am not an unfit mother. It is scurrilous scheming by Christopher Farrington.”
“The wording here is interesting as it does not have the same, er, legal eloquence of the other letters. “We are told that, although the court has made no decision, Farrington has interim oversight. I have to tell you, my dear, that it seems he is travelling to Yorkshire to collect Henry.”
The door opened, and Aunt Grace hurried in with smelling salts and a shawl, which she put around Arabella’s shoulders.
Uncle Joseph handed Aunt Grace the letter to read. “Absolute poppycock,” she muttered, kneeling beside Arabella.
“What should I tell Henry? Should I begin to prepare him for the possibility that he might have to go and stay with Christopher Farrington for a while? Every instinct tells me to keep him away from Christopher at all costs. But I know I risk making things more difficult for him if I present Christopher in such a negative light that he is scared to visit his uncle,” she said, putting her head in her hands.
“I need to think clearly, but my head hurts. If I tell Henry it is only temporary, what happens if Christopher wins the case and my little boy has to stay there permanently?” Arabella added.
“Arabella, listen to me. We are not going to let this happen. I want to speak to the Duke of Montbury’s solicitor as I have some queries about the legal process. There is something that doesn’t make any sense about this letter. The other letters were different. If you feel well enough, then I suggest we go to the castle as planned and consult with the duke’s solicitor.”
“I think that is the best thing to do,” agreed Arabella. “I want to hide myself away in a corner, but it will not do.”
“I’ll send a message to the castle to alert the duke that we will be arriving a little earlier than planned,” said Grace. “Now, come through to my sitting room and take some tea.”
“I can’t stop trembling,” Arabella said. “He has such power, and women have so few rights.”
“We have friends in high places and the support of a peer of the realm, who is determined that Henry will not leave Montbury village,” Uncle Joseph reassured her.
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Ever since the arrival of the letter, a gnawing anxiety had overcome Arabella. She began thinking of something, then forgot what she was thinking about. She was unable to sit still and had spent the late afternoon roaming around the gardens. Nothing eased her anxiety.
When people spoke to her, she had to ask them to repeat what they had said. Henry had tugged her arm once and asked if her head was in the clouds. “I think it is today. I’m so sorry, Henry. Mama is not quite herself this afternoon.”
“Can I take Dash to Castle Montbury? Freddy said I could, as his nanny is taking us for a walk to the old folly on the hill. Lady Rathby said I could, but I needed to check with you.”
She nodded and opened her arms to hug him, never wanting to let him go. Her every instinct was to find a place to hide and protect him from Christopher Farrington.
