Free An Unusual Bequest by Mary Nichols Page A

she had put her black wool cloak; even though it was late March, the days were still not warm enough to dispense with it and, here in this quiet village, fashion seemed not to matter; other things were more important. ‘But I am in something of a quandary.’

    ‘I think I understand.’

    ‘You do?’ She sat in one of the pews and motioned him to sit too.

    ‘I cannot imagine that you want to stay at Easterley Manor. It was once such a happy home when Lady Hobart was alive and the boys were young…’

    ‘It was still so until quite recently,’ she said. ‘My father-in-law’s passing changed everything. I do not think I shall be able to deal comfortably with the new Lord Hobart. We do not view things in quite the same way. And I understand he is planning to marry.’ She was trying to put it diplomatically. Lord Hobart was his client; it would not help to complain of his behaviour. ‘I must make other arrangements.’

    ‘What had you in mind?’

    ‘A school. If I had a house large enough to turn into a small school, where I could take fee-paying young ladies—’

    ‘But, my dear Lady Hobart, how can you contemplate such a thing? Your husband was a baronet in his own right and you come from a noble family—such a thing is hardly fitting.’

    ‘I enjoy teaching.’

    ‘I am sure you do and the Reverend has been telling me all about your work among the children, but teaching them as an act of charity is not the same as asking to be paid for it.’

    She gave a strangled laugh. ‘You sound like Cecil, as if the very mention of the word money is a profanity. Unfortunately it is a necessary evil, especially when you do not have any.’

    ‘Surely it is not as bad as that? Is there no one?’

    ‘No one,’ she said firmly, dismissing the idea of applying to Lord Falconer as impractical. ‘When Sir Grenville died, I was bereft and leaned very heavily on Lord Hobart. He was a kind man, he knew I had to do things my way, and so he allowed me all the freedom I wanted. It was as if Grenville had already become master of Easterley Manor and I, as his widow, was carrying on. Lord Hobart kept in the background, happy to have his grandchildren about him. I and my children have lost all that.’ She blinked rapidly, trying to prevent the tears falling.

    ‘I see,’ he said, though she was not at all sure that he did.

    ‘Then are you able to help me?’

    ‘To find you a school?’

    ‘More than that. To lend me the money to set it up.’

    ‘Oh.’ He looked startled. ‘You meant it when you said you had no money?’

    ‘I have three guineas and some smaller change. And some of that must go to pay the doctor for the treatment he gave one of my little pupils yesterday.’

    He was shocked. ‘My lady, I had no idea. How can that be? You had the portion Sir Grenville settled on you when you married. I know it was not much, but he never expected to die so young and, in any case, he knew his father would look after you.’

    ‘I had no idea I ought to save it, Mr Hardacre. I spent it on things for the village school: slates, chalk, books, and clothes and medicines for any who needed them. They have so little and since the war their plight has become worse and worse. I often think it would do those who make the laws in this country a great deal of good to have to live among its people. They might learn the meaning of true poverty.’ She paused and drew a deep breath before going on. ‘That’s as may be. What I had has gone.’

    ‘I am appalled. Your daughters…’

    ‘They want for nothing at the moment, but they are not happy at the Manor now and I must find a way to provide for them.’

    ‘But you would need collateral if I am to approach a bank on your behalf.’

    ‘I have none.’ She paused. ‘I have a little jewellery: the pearls my father gave me on my come-out, an emerald necklace that was a present from my husband to mark our betrothal and the two little brooches, one of amethysts, the