Love by Deception (Age of Innocence) Read online

  Isabel followed Dr. Wyndham out the door and hopped into the carriage. “To the Condiff residence,” he told the driver.

  “Yes, sir.” The driver snapped the reins against the horse’s rump and they raced back to Georgette and Mr. Condiff.

  Isabel began to cry silent tears. Her life would change and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

  Dr. Wyndham patted her hand. “Is it bad?”

  Isabel nodded as another sob wracked her body.

  ***

  Two weeks later Georgette sat stone-faced while the solicitor rattled off a list of her father’s assets. John Ingham was in his mid-thirties, with thinning hair and a slight build, but he had a soothing voice. It made it bearable to listen to him read her father’s last will and testament. She was surprised at the list of assets her father had, because she’d always assumed there were no assets left. They had barely scraped by while he was alive. It was shocking to hear that her father had 2,000 per annum at his disposal and that tidy per annum sum now belonged to her.

  “Do you have any questions?” the solicitor asked.

  “No, thank you, Mr. Ingham. You’ve been most kind. I’m surprised, that’s all. I had no idea my father had such wealth.”

  “Yes, I understand. There is one last item for you,” Mr. Ingham said.

  “Oh, what is it?”

  The solicitor passed a thick envelope to her. “Your father wanted you to have this upon his death.”

  “Must I read it now? I am very tired and would prefer to go home.”

  “No, we’re done for now. I understand this is a most difficult time for you, Miss Condiff. I’m very sorry for your loss. Contact me at your leisure if you have any questions.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Ingham. Good day.”

  Isabel stepped forward and helped Georgette stand. “Shall I carry that for you?”

  Georgette nodded and gave the envelope to her maid. “Thank you, Isabel. Now let’s go home. I would like to lay down. I find myself quite winded.”

  “Of course, the carriage is waiting outside.”

  The trip to the solicitor’s office had been a strain on Georgette’s frail health. By the time they returned home, she wanted nothing more than to fall into bed.

  “Shall I bring you some tea?” Isabel asked as she helped Georgette out of her day dress and into a nightdress.

  “Thank you. That would be lovely.”

  Isabel pulled the comforter back and helped Georgette into bed. “You rest now. I’ll be back shortly with the tea.”

  Georgette nodded and watched Isabel light a fire before heading downstairs. Another round of tears threatened to overwhelmed her. Her maid was all that she had left in the world. Her father had never mentioned any other family. She had been a toddler when her mother had died, but there didn’t seem to be any relatives on that side either. It made her sad that she never got to know her mother, and she guessed her mother’s passing was the beginning of her father’s descent into the bottle. He had never remarried, and it made her wonder why.

  George Candiff was a handsome man in his youth, before the drinking bloated his face and waistline and his moods turned black. He kept to himself and she couldn’t remember him even talking about another woman he was interested in courting. She would have liked to have had a stepmother, not only for the purely selfish reasons of wanting a brother or sister, but for her father, too. It would have been wonderful to have someone who would love her father and lift the sadness from his eyes.

  It was too late now. There would be no younger siblings to love or a mother’s wisdom to share. There was only Isabel, who had been her constant companion for as long as she could remember. Now that she stopped to think about that, she was full of questions. Why had her father taken in Isabel as a child? What were the circumstances that made him do something so unconventional? Isabel had always been in the house, and for much of her childhood had been her constant companion. She never thought to question those circumstances until now.

  A slight headache began to nag behind her eyes. She hoped it was from nothing more than from the activity of today. She was not used to such a strenuous day. Before she could stop them, tears leaked out of eyes. “Oh, Papa, I miss you so much. Why did you leave me?”

  “Here we are,” Isabel said carrying a tray of tea along with bread and cheese into Georgette’s bedchamber. She put the tray on the table beside the bed and poured tea for both of them. “Please don’t cry. Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.”

  Georgette took the teacup and patted the bed. “Sit with me, will you?”

  Isabel nodded and sat next to her mistress. “I’ve brought you some cheese and bread. You must eat something. I don’t want you to fall ill again.”

  “I know, but not now. I can’t stop thinking about my father.”

  “Would you like the packet the solicitor gave you?”

  “Yes, but would you mind reading it. I’m not feeling up to it.” She took another sip of tea before putting the cup on the tray.

  “Of course.” Isabel slid off the bed. She walked to Georgette’s vanity, retrieved the envelope and sat down again. She broke the seal and pulled out a letter. “It’s a letter on your father’s stationery.”

  “Please go on and read it.”

  Isabel nodded and began.

  My Dearest Georgette,

  If you are reading this letter, I am no longer with you. I left instructions with Mr. Ingham to give this letter to you upon my death. There is so much to explain. I wish that I could have faced you and told you the truth, but alas, I am a coward and prefer to let my words speak for me.

  Your Mother was the love of my life, but our time together was so short. She loved you with all her heart. You were the most beautiful child and the apple of my eye. After your beloved Mother passed away, I was beside myself with grief. The days seemed endless and life didn’t seem worth living until I looked upon your little face. How had I created such a precious creature, I asked myself? You helped put the light back into my life, and I shall be forever grateful to you.

  When you were a toddler, I met another woman. We fell madly in love, but she was not free to marry. We soon ended our affair and I did not hear from her for many months. One day she came to my doorstep. I was overjoyed to see her and thought we could now be wed, but it was not to be. She came only to leave me with a newborn babe. When I looked at the child, I saw my lover’s beautiful face reflected there and knew that I would raise the baby girl. We had created something wonderful together and if I couldn’t have her, at least I could keep our child close.

  Have you ever wondered why your lady’s maid was included in so many of the lessons in your youth? Isabel is that child and she is your sister. I promised her mother that I would never reveal her identity and I shall keep that promise, but my dearest Georgette, you are not alone in this world. You have loved Isabel like a sister and though you did not know it, that is exactly who she is. I hope you can take comfort in that.

  Take care of each other.

  Your loving father,

  George

  Georgette burst into tears and deep sobs wracked her body.

  Isabel sat motionless on the bed, not knowing what she should do. Would Georgette welcome her as a sister or resent her as her father’s bastard child? What would she do if Georgette kicked her out of the house? How would she get another position without a reference? “Georgette, I hardly know what to say.”

  Georgette nodded and the tears flowed freely. “I’m not alone,” she stammered.

  “What? You will never be alone. I will stay with you always.”

  Georgette pulled Isabel into her arms and hugged her tightly. “I have a sister. I am overjoyed.”

  Isabel joined her sister in happy tears. She wouldn’t be tossed out. Georgette wanted her. Words could not describe her joy and it was several moments before the two young women separated.

  “Georgette, I can hardly believe this wonderful news.”

  “I agree, bu
t I don’t understand why Father would keep this from us.”

  “I can only imagine he was protecting my mother,” Isabelle said. “I used to dream about my mother. How wonderful it would have been to have known her, but I’m afraid I shall never learn her identity now.”

  Georgette reached out and took hold of Isabel’s hand. “Don’t be sad, my dearest sister. We have each other.”

  Isabel nodded. “I know and it makes me so happy.” She looked at the large envelope again. “There’s more letters. Shall I continue?”

  “Yes, please do. I can hardly wait to see what else my father will reveal.”

  Isabel put the first letter aside and began reading the next one. “This one is addressed to me.”

  My Dearest Isabel,

  I know the news that I am your father must be a terrible shock to you, but circumstances were out of my control. Your mother and I loved each other with a passion so deep it hurt. She lit up a room when she entered and when she looked at me, I was the happiest man alive. If there had been any way she could have kept you with her, she would have. Please believe that. It nearly killed her to give you away to me. The next best option and the only one that gave her a small sense of peace was for me to raise you. I’m sorry I could not give you my name for the scandal it would have caused. Society would never have rested until they uncovered the identity of your mother. It would have ruined her.

  I could not let that happen, so I retired to Essex far away from London and the ton’s prying eyes. I did the best I could for both you and your sister. I hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive a foolish man whose only mistake was to fall in love.

  I have lived a sparse life so that you and Georgette will have a considerable per annum after I’ve gone. I hope this makes up in small part for a life without your mother.

  Your loving father,

  George

  Isabel hands dropped in her lap. “It all makes sense now.”

  “What does? What do you mean?”

  “Mr. Condiff was either barking orders at me or inviting me to share a meal with him. I thought the brandy had addled his brain, but it was his emotions that were conflicted.”

  “Yes, this explains why my father seemed so sad all the time. Are there any more letters?”

  Isabel put her letter aside. “One more.”

  Dearest Georgette and Isabel,

  As I have mentioned in my other letter, both of you will share a generous per annum. If the two of you desire a Season in London, you may contact Mrs. Iris Quinn. She is an old friend of mine. Arrangements have been made and she will be happy to host you both at her home. Mr. Ingham will provide you with her address.

  Isabel, while I have acknowledged you as my daughter in my letter, you are not at liberty to take my name publicly. I have respected your Mother’s privacy all these years and I hope that you will understand. Mrs. Quinn believes you to be Georgette’s distant cousin. I thought that was for the best.

  Send Mr. Ingham a note if you decide to go to London and he will make sure there are ample funds available for both of you to enjoy the Season.

  Your loving father,

  George

  “I can hardly believe all this,” Isabel said.

  “Nor I, but we can take comfort in the fact that we are truly sisters. I could not have asked for a more loving and caring sister,” Georgette said falling back into her pillows.

  “I feel the same, but now you must eat something.”

  Georgette laughed for the first time in a long while. “Still as bossy as ever! You would do well to remember that I’m the older sister.”

  Isabel handed Georgette a plate of bread and cheese. “I’ll think about it. Now eat, please.”

  Georgette took a few bites before her brow creased.

  “What are you thinking? I know that look,” Isabel said.

  “I was wondering how we will announce that you are more than my lady’s maid?”

  “I don’t know. Everyone in the village knows me as such. I don’t think it will be heady news to anyone that I could also be your poor cousin. We have lived such a sparse life and that could be why I’m your maid, but let’s not worry about this now.”

  “Of course, dearest, but we must think about this.”

  “And we will, but first, eat.”

  Georgette smiled as she took a bite of cheese.

  Chapter 3

  4 months later…

  April 1817

  Twenty-six-year-old Colby Tisbury sat atop his horse on the rise overlooking the tenant farms that provided his family with their continuing source of income. His father, Lord Albert Tisbury, had asked him to make the rounds before the spring planting to make sure the tenants had all they needed for a successful season. Lord Tisbury was a stickler for ensuring the tenants' happiness. Cottage roofs were repaired on a regular basis to keep the families warm and dry, horses' hooves were inspected, and anything else that needed tending to, Lord Tisbury saw it was done. If the tenants were happy, they worked the land well, and that meant more income for the Tisbury family. That made it a win/win situation as far as his father was concerned, and it was the way he’d always conducted business.

  Colby had the utmost respect for his father and planned to continue his practices when the time came for him to become the next Lord Tisbury. His father still boasted good health and for that, Colby was grateful because he felt there was still so much to learn about running such a large estate. He’d been making the twice-annual trips for the past five years, except for last fall when he had been laid up recuperating from a gunshot wound. Much to his chagrin, he’d been caught up in a gambling addiction, and a bad night of losses had turned into a dreaded duel. It had been the scariest night of his young life. He had found out he was not invincible, and that was a hard lesson to swallow. During the weeks he spent recovering, he vowed to never step foot in a gambling hall again.

  His cousin, Ethan Richardson, had saved his life with his quick actions after the duel, and had made the visits to the tenant farmers in his place while Colby recovered. He owed Ethan a big debt of gratitude, but his cousin disagreed. Ethan believed it was what family did for each other. Colby had the utmost respect for Ethan.

  He reached up and took off his hat, running his hand through his thick brown hair. The April weather had turned warmer than usual and his hair curled around his ears and at his collar from the humidity. He was a few weeks early for the spring visit, but he wanted to complete the farm tours before the uncomfortable heat set in permanently.

  He replaced his hat and patted his black stallion’s neck. “You ready, Diego?” The horse snorted and Colby clicked him into motion. His first stop was Thomas Galen’s cottage. Tom and his two brothers had lived on Tisbury land for nearly twenty years. Their father was the original tenant and as the Galen brothers grew up and married, they all followed in their father’s footsteps and rented their own plot of Tisbury land.

  The cozy stone cottage came into view and Colby saw Thomas outside playing with his young sons. The little boys’ laughter floated on the air. It was clear they loved their father. A twinge of envy settled in Colby’s gut. Would he have his own coveted family some day? No young lady had caught his eye for the past few Seasons, much to his father’s displeasure. Lord Tisbury had been hinting for the past few years that it was time for Colby to be settled, but he wasn’t looking forward to the Season this year with the latest group of twittering young ladies all vying for his attention, especially Miss Kathryn Larkinson. He didn’t want a wallflower for a wife. His ideal woman wouldn’t be afraid to speak her mind, but he wasn’t sure she even existed. Young ladies were taught to be subservient to their future husbands, not offering any opinions of their own. How would he know a young lady’s mind if she never shared anything of substance with him?

  Thomas turned as Colby came trotting down the dirt road. “Mr. Tisbury, what brings you around today?”

  “Hello, Thomas,” Colby said as he dismounted Diego. He offered his ha
nd and Thomas shook it in a firm grip. “I’ve come to make the spring rounds and see if any repairs are needed.”

  “Boys, go play while I talk with Mr. Tisbury,” Thomas said to his children.

  His three sons scampered off toward the back of the cottage. “My turn to swing,” said the youngest as they rounded the corner.

  “They’re getting so big,” Colby said. “Where does the time go?”

  “Nothing like growing sons to make a man feel old,” Thomas said with a chuckle. “Beth is inside with our newest son. Care for some tea?”

  “Sure, thanks,” Colby said. He tied his horse’s reins to the post and followed Thomas inside the cottage.

  Beth came rushing out from the back room. “Thomas, I told you to keep the boys outside. The little one is down for a nap.”

  “The boys are outside, but I’ve brought a guest for tea,” Thomas said, kissing his wife on the cheek.

  Beth looked beyond her husband and her face split into a wide grin. “Mr. Tisbury, how delightful to see you.”

  Colby walked to Beth and lifted her hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Galen.”

  Beth’s cheeks colored. “Oh, call me Beth. Please have a seat. The tea will be ready in a few moments.

  “Thank you,” Colby said, sitting at the sturdy wooden table that dominated the main room in the cottage.

  Beth busied herself getting the teacups on the table. “So what brings you around today, Mr. Tisbury?” she asked.

  Colby took off his hat. “I’m off to London soon, but I wanted to check in with all the farmers before I left. Make sure you don’t have need of anything.”

  Thomas grinned. “Off to find yourself a wife at last?”

  Colby chuckled. “Something like that. My father’s hints are no longer subtle. He feels it’s time I settled down and found myself a wife. I fear I’ve exhausted his patience, so either I choose a wife or he’ll choose one for me.”