Meant To Be (Pendleton Manor 1)

“It won’t come to that,” Sophy insisted. Harry will know what to do. He will help us, I know he will.

But she heard her father’s reply in her head. He won’t help us, Sophy. Sir Arbuthnot will see to that. I don’t know what he promised you … what you gave him, but Harry will never marry a girl like you.

She refused to believe it. Even when the headmistress made it clear she would not be writing a reference for Sophy. “Sir Arbuthnot would not like it, and you know we are beholden to him. He owns this village.”

Of course he did and everyone in it was reliant upon the Baillieus. Sophy was beginning to realise just how powerful Sir Arbuthnot was, and how ruthless he meant to be when it came to Harry’s future.

She still wrote a letter, pressed it into the woman’s hands and asked her to see that Harry received it. But she knew it would never reach him, she could see in the hard line of her mouth that she had no intention of passing it on.

As she climbed aboard the mail coach, and they rumbled off over the uneven road, Sophy kept telling herself that Harry would know what to do. He loved her and he would find her and then everything would be all right. She had to believe that.

Chapter 10

SOPHY

1810-1812, Susan Jamieson’s house, Lambeth, London

Once Sophy reached London she went directly to her grandmother’s house. Her father had been right, and she was welcomed with open arms. Her grandmother helped her discover where George Harcourt was being held, and then sent a servant to the prison to reconnoitre.

The situation was dire. George had been transferred to Newgate Prison and was awaiting trial, and in the meantime he was in need of clothing and food, and visits from his daughter. For the next year Sophy did her best to keep his spirits up as the trial they had hoped would set him free failed to do so. George would not hang, ironically Sir Arbuthnot had asked for clemency, but he would be transported to the penal colony of New South Wales.

“You have not heard from your aunt?” he asked her. His eyes had sunken into their sockets and Sophy wondered if he ever slept. Perhaps you did not sleep in prison if you did not want your belongings to be stolen by the other inmates. She dreaded to think how her father would manage when he was far away.

“She wrote back to me only once and you have seen that letter.”

Aunt Anna was disappointed that the money to buy back Audley Farm was not forthcoming. Of course Arnold coul

d not marry Sophy now. He would look elsewhere, for a respectable girl with a good dowry. Although Aunt Anna was very sorry to hear of their troubles they really could not expect her to put her son’s future in jeopardy by linking her name with theirs.

“I was a fool,” her father said.

“No you weren’t.” Sophy clasped his hand in hers. “You wanted the best for me. How were you to know that Sir Arbuthnot would be so ruthless?” She took a shaky breath, and then wished she hadn’t when the foul miasma of the prison entered her lungs. “It is I who should be sorry, Father. I have written to Harry so many times but I doubt he receives my letters.”

“Sir Arbuthnot would see to it that he doesn’t.”

Sophy had had no choice but to send them to Pendleton after the one she sent to Langley Hall was returned unopened. The Pendleton letters were not returned but neither were they answered, and she knew he had not received them because if he had then Harry would have answered her. She had inquired at Adam’s barracks, and was told that his regiment had left for Spain. She even tried some of her old classmates in the village, but they did not answer either. The Harcourts were caught up in a terrible scandal and everyone believed the story Sir Arbuthnot had spread. Even if they didn’t, they were too wary of the powerful Baillieus to risk embroiling themselves in Sophy’s troubles.

For a moment she and her father sat in silence. When Sophy was about to leave, her father took her in his arms, and she was glad to see him smile.

“I am sorry I embroiled you in this,” he said. “I should have listened when you told me what was in your heart. Do you still love Harry?”

“Yes, I do. And I know if we could only speak he would help us. You would see what a fine young man he is and how different from his father.”

“You don’t have to convince me, my dear. If you love Harry then he must be a fine young man.” He hesitated and then went on, “I have sent a letter to Sir Arbuthnot.”

“I thought you were never going to write to that man, Father!”

“I’m not. I am writing to Harry, in a roundabout sort of way, only his father will not realise it. You’ll see. If my plan works as I hope it will and Harry is the sort of man I believe him to be, then he will be with you very soon, my dear.”

“Oh Father, I hope you are right.”

Sophy wanted to believe him and her spirits were lighter that day, as she left the prison. Sadly her happiness was brief. That was the last time she saw her father. He caught a fever and died a week later.

“My poor Sophy,” her grandmother cried, wrapping her in loving arms.

Susan Jamieson was a revelation to Sophy. This strong woman barely came up to Sophy’s chin, but she was so full of life. And with her long grey hair, bright blue eyes and knowing smile, it was evident that she had lived an eventful life.

Sophy had no hesitation in telling her grandmother the whole story. How she and Harry had been deeply in love, and how Sir Arbuthnot had turned on the Harcourts. She had sobbed on her grandmother’s lap, relieved to finally have someone to confide in, while her grandmother stroked her hair and murmured words of comfort. She had cried herself into exhaustion, and Grandma Susan had told her that what Sir Arbuthnot had done was cruel and heartless, but the blame was entirely down to him.