called scandalous Suzanna?” Helen asked
“Ran off with another man, they say,” Evelyn said. “Oh dear, it was quite a family disgrace. Her name was not to be mentioned in the hearing of my parents-in-law. Her husband, Robert,” Evelyn cocked her head and looked at the painting of Robert, “was badly wounded in the Peninsula campaign. He never recovered from Suzanna’s desertion and died a few years later. If you’re really interested, there is a brief family history in here somewhere.” Evelyn shivered. “I don’t know why you work in here, Paul, it’s always cold. You really should light a fire.”
Helen glanced at the fire that had been burning cheerfully only a few minutes previously. Now the coals showed no glimmer of ember.
With an impatient sigh, Evelyn crossed to the bookcase and scanned the shelves, pulling out a dusty leather bound folio with the family crest on the cover. She carried it over to the table and ignored Paul’s frown of disapproval as she moved several of his clay tablets to make room for it.
She opened the folio, spreading out a detailed family tree written in neat copper plate with the coat of arms carefully drawn and colored in the right-hand corner.
Helen traced her finger over the family crest, a silver chevron cut across a turquoise shield with three black birds emblazoned on it.
“What does Nec Cuplas Nec Metuas mean?” she asked.
“Neither covet nor fear,” Paul replied.
“And the blackbirds?”
“Heraldic martlets,” Evelyn said with the faintest curl of her lip.
Helen refrained from showing any further ignorance by asking what sort of bird a martlet was and turned to the details of the formidable family tree. It began, as far as she could see, in the thirteenth century and ended with the birth of Evelyn’s husband, George, and Paul’s father, Edward.
Evelyn looked up at the portraits and then back to the family tree. “Here they are, Robert married Suzanna Thompson in 1807.” She frowned. “He died in 1814. Of course, there is no date of death noted for Suzanna. She was reputed to have fled to the colonies and had no further contact with the family. There’s a brief history here as well.” Evelyn closed the family tree and flicked through the book.
She read aloud:
“ As the second Baronet’s health began to fade, it was thought necessary to find a suitable bride for his eldest son, Robert. On leave from service in the 27th Regiment of Foot, serving in Spain, he was introduced and proposed to Suzanna Thompson. Lady Cecilia Morrow wrote to her sister, ‘On first appearance Miss Thompson gives the impression of being a biddable girl of good breeding and well-versed in household skills but I detect in her a spirit of rebelliousness brought on no doubt, by the absurd notion of her father’s that she should be, in his words, properly educated. Too much education does not become a woman. However Robert seems enamored of her and she of him and the wedding date is set...’
“ The couple were permitted only a few weeks together before Robert returned to his regiment in Spain. Happily in that time Suzanna conceived a child and their son, George, was born the following spring to much rejoicing in the family. Robert returned on leave at Christmas and this time the couple enjoyed a few months in each other’s company before duty once more called Robert back to Spain. Their daughter Adele was born later that year.
“ Robert sustained a serious wound at the siege of Badajoz in April 1812 and was sent home to recuperate. Some months later, his wife, after nursing him through his illness, left the family home and was not seen or heard from again. It was generally believed that she had absconded with another man and that she and her paramour removed themselves from respectable society to some far-flung corner of the empire to start up life anew under assumed names and in the unhappy knowledge of the perfidy that they had committed. Her husband was inconsolable
“Ran off with another man, they say,” Evelyn said. “Oh dear, it was quite a family disgrace. Her name was not to be mentioned in the hearing of my parents-in-law. Her husband, Robert,” Evelyn cocked her head and looked at the painting of Robert, “was badly wounded in the Peninsula campaign. He never recovered from Suzanna’s desertion and died a few years later. If you’re really interested, there is a brief family history in here somewhere.” Evelyn shivered. “I don’t know why you work in here, Paul, it’s always cold. You really should light a fire.”
Helen glanced at the fire that had been burning cheerfully only a few minutes previously. Now the coals showed no glimmer of ember.
With an impatient sigh, Evelyn crossed to the bookcase and scanned the shelves, pulling out a dusty leather bound folio with the family crest on the cover. She carried it over to the table and ignored Paul’s frown of disapproval as she moved several of his clay tablets to make room for it.
She opened the folio, spreading out a detailed family tree written in neat copper plate with the coat of arms carefully drawn and colored in the right-hand corner.
Helen traced her finger over the family crest, a silver chevron cut across a turquoise shield with three black birds emblazoned on it.
“What does Nec Cuplas Nec Metuas mean?” she asked.
“Neither covet nor fear,” Paul replied.
“And the blackbirds?”
“Heraldic martlets,” Evelyn said with the faintest curl of her lip.
Helen refrained from showing any further ignorance by asking what sort of bird a martlet was and turned to the details of the formidable family tree. It began, as far as she could see, in the thirteenth century and ended with the birth of Evelyn’s husband, George, and Paul’s father, Edward.
Evelyn looked up at the portraits and then back to the family tree. “Here they are, Robert married Suzanna Thompson in 1807.” She frowned. “He died in 1814. Of course, there is no date of death noted for Suzanna. She was reputed to have fled to the colonies and had no further contact with the family. There’s a brief history here as well.” Evelyn closed the family tree and flicked through the book.
She read aloud:
“ As the second Baronet’s health began to fade, it was thought necessary to find a suitable bride for his eldest son, Robert. On leave from service in the 27th Regiment of Foot, serving in Spain, he was introduced and proposed to Suzanna Thompson. Lady Cecilia Morrow wrote to her sister, ‘On first appearance Miss Thompson gives the impression of being a biddable girl of good breeding and well-versed in household skills but I detect in her a spirit of rebelliousness brought on no doubt, by the absurd notion of her father’s that she should be, in his words, properly educated. Too much education does not become a woman. However Robert seems enamored of her and she of him and the wedding date is set...’
“ The couple were permitted only a few weeks together before Robert returned to his regiment in Spain. Happily in that time Suzanna conceived a child and their son, George, was born the following spring to much rejoicing in the family. Robert returned on leave at Christmas and this time the couple enjoyed a few months in each other’s company before duty once more called Robert back to Spain. Their daughter Adele was born later that year.
“ Robert sustained a serious wound at the siege of Badajoz in April 1812 and was sent home to recuperate. Some months later, his wife, after nursing him through his illness, left the family home and was not seen or heard from again. It was generally believed that she had absconded with another man and that she and her paramour removed themselves from respectable society to some far-flung corner of the empire to start up life anew under assumed names and in the unhappy knowledge of the perfidy that they had committed. Her husband was inconsolable
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