(The Hartford Manor Series, Book #6)
By Marcia Clayton
1887, North Devon, England
When Lady Eleanor Fellwood gave birth to a badly deformed baby, she insisted that the child be adopted as far away as possible. However, that proved difficult to accomplish, and so, in return for payment, Sabina Carter, an impoverished widow living locally, agreed to raise the little boy as a foundling. The child’s father, Lord Charles Fellwood of Hartford Manor, warned Sabina that the matter must be treated in the strictest confidence or her family would be evicted from their home. As far as Lady Eleanor was concerned, the child was being cared for miles away.
All was well for several years until fate took a hand and, against his parents’ wishes, Robert Fellwood, the heir to the Hartford Estate, married Sabina’s daughter, Annie. Robert arranged for his mother-in-law, Sabina, and her family to reside in the Lodge House, situated at the end of the Manor House driveway. A house that Lady Eleanor passed regularly, and it was not long before she spotted Danny’s dark curls among the Carter redheads. As she looked into the child’s eyes and noted his disabilities, she recognised her son.
Now, at seven years old, Danny has had numerous operations to correct his disabilities and is a happy, healthy child. However, his presence is a source of constant anguish for his birth mother as, day after day, she watches him play in the garden. Her husband, Charles, and son, Robert, are aghast when she announces that she wants him back! An impossible situation for all concerned, and a rift develops between Robert and Annie as he struggles to find a solution to suit everyone.
Over the years, Lady Eleanor has steadfastly refused to acknowledge her daughter-in-law, for she disapproves of Annie’s lower-class origins. When a freak accident forces the two women to spend time together, they inevitably find themselves drawn into conversation, and before long, the years of pent-up resentment and family secrets surface as home truths are aired.
Will the two women be rescued from their precarious situation unscathed? And, if so, will the family survive the scandal that is about to be unleashed?
Excerpt
Millie’s Escape
Emily was unable to sleep that night. She tossed and turned as her troubled mind worried over her grandchildren. At last, in the early hours, she finally lost consciousness, but it seemed only a few minutes later that a loud hammering on the door rudely awoke her. Wearily, she sat on the side of the bed for a moment, trying to gather her strength, whilst the commotion downstairs continued. Emily couldn’t for the life of her think who could be making so much noise. Shakily, she rose to her feet, but the room swam before her, and she sank back onto the bed, afraid she might fall.
By this time, the noise had alerted her neighbours and Agnes and Ollie came out of their front door, curious to find out what was happening. A young man was hammering on Emily’s door, and behind him, a lady dressed all in black urged him to continue. Their horses were tethered to a nearby tree, one a handsome chestnut stallion and the other a roan cob.
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
The young lady looked down her nose at Ollie. Her clothing was of the finest quality, her boots highly polished, and she wore sparkling earrings. The only thing that marred her beauty was the sour expression on her face.
“Is this where that whore, Rosemary Gibbs, lives?”
“It’s where Rosemary used to live, ma’am, but I’m afraid she’s lying dead in her bed, awaiting collection by the undertaker.”
The woman glared at him. “How typical of the woman to die before I even had a chance to give her a piece of my mind. What about her two bastards? Are they here?”
“Yes, ma’am, they live with their granny, Emily Gibbs, but I should tell you she has typhoid. I would not advise you to enter the cottage for fear of contracting it yourself.”
The woman pushed the young man aside. “Get out of the way, Henry; I’ll deal with this myself. I’ve recently recovered from typhoid, so I’m not worried about that.”
Slamming the door open, the woman entered the cottage and surveyed her surroundings distastefully. She proceeded through the living room and mounted the stairs. Still lying in bed, Emily was astounded to see Lady Grantley enter the room. She struggled to sit up.
“Why, Lady Grantley, what brings you here? I’m sorry I couldn’t answer the door, but I’m so weak I couldn’t get out of bed. I’m ill with typhoid, you see. Please don’t come near; you don’t want to catch it.”
“Touching though your concern is, you do not need to worry about me, for I’ve had the beastly disease, though it managed to see off my unfaithful husband and serve him right. Now, I understand from your neighbours that his trollop, Rosemary Gibbs, has joined him. How typical that they should even leave this world together.”
Although incensed at the woman speaking about her daughter in such a way, Emily could think of nothing useful to say, so she lay back on her pillows and regarded her visitor with baleful eyes.
“So, where are your grandchildren? Where are my husband’s bastards?”
“They’re not here, ma’am. With their mother deceased and me likely to join her soon, I’ve sent them to seek out distant relatives in Somerset.”
“A likely story, as if you would send two youngsters off alone on a long journey in this weather. I expect they’re hiding somewhere; tell me, for I will find them.”
The woman turned on her heel, went across the landing, and opened a door that led into the room usually occupied by Millie and Jonathan. Seeing it was empty, she opened the next door and recoiled at the awful smell which assailed her nostrils. Putting her handkerchief to her nose, she surveyed the body lying on the bed, covered with a sheet. Unconvinced that the children were not hiding, she forced herself to peer under the bed but found nothing. Angrily, she called down the stairs to her groom.
“Henry, search everywhere downstairs and all the outbuildings. Then search every house nearby; I want them found.”
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