Chapter Four
It was not to be expected that the arrival of a young person of attractive appearance at the residence of Lord Mountjoy would escape the notice of polite society. Before the day was out, rumours were flying around London as to what his lordship was up to while his wife was languishing in the north.
“Poor Lady Mountjoy is marooned up there at Mountjoy Castle with her children, while Lord Mountjoy gets up to his old tricks in London as though he were still a bachelor. My heart goes out to her, I assure you, but I always said that marriage would end in tears,” Mrs. Jessington said to her husband.
Arthur Jessington was a sterner moralist. “Were he still a bachelor, it would be an outrageous thing to take a young woman into his house—flaunting a mistress, in fact. He must be lost to all sense of propriety; it is altogether reprehensible.”
Mrs. Jessington was leaving the very next morning for Yorkshire, and she at once decided that she would break her journey in Eyotshire. Her dearest friend, Eliza Mountjoy, would be happy to put her up for a night or two, and it was only right that she be informed of what scandalous mischief her lord and master was up to while her back was turned.
Meanwhile, unaware of the scandal flying about town, Lord Mountjoy attended to some business affairs and then sat down to write to his wife, informing her of his goddaughter’s arrival.
You will have heard me speak of her father, Philip Welburn, an old acquaintance of mine. His wife, Valentine’s mother, died when the child was barely out of the nursery. He has spent most of his life in India, first with the East India Company and then making what I gather is a very substantial fortune on his own account. I last saw him some dozen or so years ago, when he paid a visit to England, and we correspond occasionally. I do not yet know what are the circumstances that have caused him to send Valentine to England this year instead of next, but I daresay when you come to London, you will be able to get the truth out of her. And this letter is to beg you, my dearest Eliza, to make the trip to London sooner than you had intended. Valentine will need a woman’s attention. In particular, I do not think they are up-to-date with the fashions in India, and while I do not pretend to be anything of an expert on female attire, other than to admire, it is obvious to me (and to a scandalised Mrs. Rushworth) that her clothes are unsuitable for a London season. Besides, her sudden arrival at Mountjoy House will inevitably cause a deal of comment and gossip. She came without a maid, having travelled alone from the docks in a hackney cab, quite unconcerned. She appears to be a resourceful young lady, who will need your guidance if she is not to fall into some scrape or other. I look forward, dear heart, to seeing you again as soon as may be possible. Your affectionate Mountjoy.
He laid aside the letter with other correspondence to be sealed and franked; however, it was caught up in his business papers, and it was not until two days later that it was discovered and dispatched by express to Eyotshire.