Chapter 10

As I pondered in Boston, I hit upon a scheme that would help me recover my place in England. It was now many years since I had fled but I had not aged. How could I return to the estate, having aged not but a day or two in appearance? I wrote a letter to the estate informing them that I was sending my son, Jeremy, to the estate to learn of his past. He had lost his mother, my wife, and I wished him to assume his place as my heir designate in the manor. I then took passage to England as my own son, arriving without much delay and was greeted warmly. Those that remembered me, commented how much Jeremy junior resembled his father as a young man. I was suitably surprised saying how the adventurous life had aged my father.

I had sold my partnership share to George, investing such funds in several ventures before departing. In this, I turned out to be lucky and was wise. I knew that the leaders of the colonies wished to promote their own traders so as to be not dependent on the British companies. I invested in several fledgling trading companies who used the capital to obtain ships of sail. While several failed, several grew to be great trading companies and whaling concerns. Those investments would continue to pay well into the following century making me a wealthy American as well as a British Lord.

Part of the funds I used to establish a trust for Mrs. Chatham so that she would not suffer from my departure. She had been a goodly companion sharing not just my bed but almost acting as wife for years. I had also left a letter with my partner, George, to be posted some months later. George, unknowing of the contents, posted the letter as asked. So it was with great sorrow that I learned several months later that my father had passed in an epidemic of small pox in Boston and I was now the new Lord Northam.

This ruse performed so admirably that I have followed it to this day, disappearing from the estate as I 'age' only to return once a generation, as my own son each time, to reclaim the manor and to meet a whole new lot of single women interested in the charming heir and Lord. The older generation is always amazed at how much the son resembles his father. Well, blood does run true.

I was introduced to the local gentry. Mr. Bennett, he of the pregnant daughter, had passed on. I met Mary and her son, who was universally considered my brother but no one mentioned it to me. Mary was still single as no man would have her after her disgrace. She lived with her mother and sister Lydia whose husband ran their farm. I must admit that facing my own past like that was difficult. I once again had to face my shame. I truly considered marrying Mary and erasing her shame, but she had become quarrelsome and a vixen. She was unpleasant to even be around. I came to know, with sadness, that I could not right the wrong at this remove; too much water had passed under that bridge.

The boy, named Edward after her grandfather, my son, thought to be my brother, was a handsome man, still unmarried. He worked with his brother-in-law on their lands. Because of the taint of his birth, the bend sinister, he had little prospect of a good alliance. I determined to do something to at least right this wrong if I could do nothing else. I must admit that my heart was filled with a fondness for the lad, knowing he was in fact my own.

I also met again, Elizabeth, my dear lover. She had become a stately woman, still reading and still writing and still single. Her father had also passed so she ran her own house. She came to visit one morning after I had been back a few days. I almost swept her into my arms, so glad was I to see her again but thankfully remembered the ruse under which I was there.

"Mister Northam," she said holding out her hand, for I still waited at that point for the letter announcing my death to arrive. I was heir, not Lord.

"Miss Woodhouse. My father has spoken to me much of you," I said.

"I hope well," she said.

"All he has spoken has been said with love," I told her.

She blushed a little. I was surprised to see this, since I never considered her a blushing girl. "Mister Northam, your father was a married man."

"So he was and I believe he loved my mother. But a man may have more than one love in his life. I heard his voice as he spoke of you. And now, I can see why he spoke they way he did," I said.

"Yes, your father was certainly a man of many loves," she said.

"Ah, you mean poor Miss Bennett," I said.

"You know?"

"Miss Woodhouse, my father prepared me for my return. He told me many things, things for which his shame ran very deep, things that made me also ashamed, but he felt I must know the truth so that I would not be surprised at what I might learn on my return. I know he had dalliances when he was young, but I also know he had but one love before he fled to France," I said.

Miss Woodhouse was quiet for several moments, I think surprised both at my knowledge and forthrightness as well as the statement of my, or my father's, love. "Your brother..." she started.

"I've never had a brother and I always wished that I had one," I interrupted letting her know I would take my responsibility seriously.

She smiled, "Of course."

And so, I once again pursued a relationship with Elizabeth. It was strange in some ways since she was now a mature woman and I physically was still a youth. I know she thought of any possible entanglement that way. After we had exchanged several visits, I was attending her in her library one afternoon. It reminded me of that fateful day many years earlier. "My father told me of how much he enjoyed his visits and how you would read to him in the garden."

She paused before answering, "Yes, we did enjoy those readings."

"He is well versed now in Latin and French and still enjoys reading. He made me learn both as well," I said. I pulled down the book which had led to the tryst. "Perhaps we could read this," I said holding it out to her.

She saw which book it was and withdrew her hand. "Mister Northam." She turned away, then turned back to me. "How much did your father say about..."

"Little directly, Miss Woodhouse. I believe he really thought he was discreet. But after my mother passed, his feelings could not be hidden. I know it is perhaps wrong of me to use this knowledge that my father unwittingly passed on, but maybe I am the sort of scoundrel he was."

"Your father was not a scoundrel," she said with some fire.

I bowed, "Thank you, Miss Woodhouse, for rising to his defense."

She blushed with the realization of what she had acknowledged.

I changed the subject. "My father also told me about Meg."

"My cousin," she said.

"I gather that she also pursued my father," I said. Elizabeth nodded. I continued, "I gather from some few comments and much inference that Meg knew of your..."

"Trysts," Elizabeth said. "You might as well just say it as we've been dancing round it quite enough."

"Trysts, and used that information against my father. He spoke with some anger about Meg."

Elizabeth nodded, "She so admitted it to me much later, after her marriage. She did take advantage."

"I have no such desire for advantage, only concord." I held out the book again, "I would like it very much if we could read this. Perhaps out on the lawn..."

"Mister Northam, are you trying to seduce me?"

"Yes, Miss Woodhouse. I am," I answered serenely.

She started to look cross but could not, instead she burst into laughter, a most joyous sound, trying hard to suppress it. "I am sorry, Mister Northam. I am not laughing at you."

"I know. You are laughing at how ridiculous it is for a man of my age to be pursuing a woman of yours, or so you think. It isn't really. Would you join me? I'd like to read to you," I said holding the book and extending my arm towards the garden door. She hesitated, then stood, and I followed her out to the garden. We sat at a table far from the house and screened by hedgerows.

We sat and I opened the book. Her eyes were wide whether from anticipation or fear, I knew not. I closed the book and set it down on the table. "I cannot read this book," I said.

"Why not, Mr. Northam?" she asked.

"I would be no better than Meg. I will tell you, Miss Woodhouse, I came with every intent to use my knowledge to seduce you. And every fiber in my being seems to be willing me to do just that. But I cannot. I hope you will come to dinner tomorrow. Good day, Miss Woodhouse." I rose and strode across the lawn and back to the house, mounting, and riding back to the manor in a whirl.

I had acted on a whim, and as I rode, I thought I had been precipitate. But as I considered, I came to believe that I had done well. Elizabeth had been close to surrendering. Leaving her in that state, her desire would work upon her. As well, she would respect my leaving, trusting me the more. I was quite satisfied by my conduct by the time I reached the manor.

I waited for Elizabeth to appear for dinner the next afternoon. It was well after noon when I sat to dinner. I was about to start when Burnstone, the son of the man I had known, announced Elizabeth. I stood and she was brought in. "I am so happy you came."