COUNTESS OF GRANTHAM SWINDLES NOBLE CLASS
Richard Carlisle looked at the headline, lips pressed together. He was still debating if the word choice was proper. That was the trick with headlines, making sure that they caught ones attention and could roll off the tongue when whispered in the pubs and salons. "Did you read about the Countess of Grantham swindling other lords and ladies out of thousands?" You also wanted to make sure that your wording was different from everyone else's, that way your article could be identified. If he had just used 'robs from' instead of swindled then any other paper could have used a similar headline and gotten just as much attention. Swindle… it was a good word. Just different enough. And it invoked American robbers, to remind everyone of who she was. But he wondered if the use of 'noble class' was right…
It had never been in question if he'd be coy with who the culprit was. While sometimes a sense of mystery worked in a headline here he knew that people would be drawn in by the tease that a noblewoman had decided to become little more than a slick-tongued thief, bilking her contemporaries out of their pounds.
He sighed, tossing the paper onto his desk and standing up, moving to look out the window. He was overthinking things, he knew that. This was his grand victory, the piece that was going to place him back on the top of the newspaper game. It would show how cunning he was, how he was able to get a story to print before anyone else, and most importantly of all it was taking out several targets at once.
Richard glanced at his wet bar, considering for a moment calling it a day even though it was only 10am. Sometimes a success was so great that it was better to just end the work day and celebrate rather than risk tainting everything by trying to top one's self. That would come tomorrow… today he could-
His secretary stepped into the room.
"Mr. Carlisle, Ladies Cora and Mary Crawley are here to see you."
"Of course," Richard said with a smile; honestly he'd expected them to show up at some point. "See them right in." He moved to sit behind his desk once more, having settled just as the two women walked in. They were cold fish, he could tell in an instant. Despite what he'd done to them, how he'd ensured their downfall, they walked into his office as if they were there for a friendly chat. No… not a friendly chat. That would require smiles. It was rather as if they were merely walking into an empty room. As if he didn't exist. Richard forced himself not to frown at that; he was never one for liking disrespect but today he wouldn't jump at the bait. Let them score a petty victory what did it matter to him?
They weren't dressed to threaten or entice. No move to flatter their bosoms or make him understand how higher up they were in the world when it came to the accessories and wealth. They were dressed for a day of shopping; Lady Mary perhaps a bit more sensible than her mother but she had taken to being the wife of a army man and lawyer. Lady Grantham moved briskly, her daughter matching her step for step, a newspaper tucked under her arm; he wondered if she was going to slap it down and point to the headline as if he didn't know what he himself had written.
"Would you mind terribly if we didn't pretend I didn't know just why you were here?" Richard asked with a slight yawn. "I understand the need for games but sometimes it is far better to simply be open about everything."
"I see no problem with that," Lady Grantham stated. She looked towards the chairs in front of his desk and he quietly nodded, the two sitting down before him. "Would you mind terribly if I asked why?"
"For many reasons, to be honest. It is a wonderful news story, after all. So many layers to it. The wife of an English lord seeking to steal from her peers their money… during a war no less… and in turn use those funds to increase her own holdings? That is something the masses will eat up. Then there is the fact that you and your husband have been separated for nearly a year… tell me, did he come to see you last week because he got wind of your scheme?" Lady Grantham didn't even twitch and Richard in the end waved off the question. "It doesn't matter. It is still a juicy tale… made all the more sweet by connections and history."
"Whatever do you mean?" Lady Grantham asked; there was no sweetness in her tone but it was clear she was trying to hide all her emotions. Something was bubbling up in her stomach though, he could tell.
"For history… well, you are American." She shot him a look and he wondered if she truly were so stupid that she didn't understand. "Come now, there is no need to pretend that things have been easy for you. It is well known that the Dowager Countess never wished for Lord Grantham to marry you. What did you bring to the marriage save for money? No title, no prestige… your family isn't even an old one. Your father made his fortune, something I can respect. And let us be clear that I do respect your family and do not hold it against you that he decided it was better to make his wealth than to depend on others to give it to him. But I am the minority in England. Most saw you as a walking coin purse, nothing more. Add in your failure to produce male heirs…" For the first time he saw a twinge of anger at that, Lady Mary reaching over and squeezing her mother's hand. "But there you have it… a woman that was never truly embraced. Who represented everything the old families feared and loathed. And you've now confirmed all their suspicions.
"Then there is Lady Edith," he continue. "She and Sir Michael have been thorns in my side for quite some time. I will admit it here… it was personal when it came to them. The rest of your were merely collateral damage. They were the ones I wished to bring down and now I have. They will try and spin it, I am sure, to twist the facts so they are blameless… but rest assure that tomorrow's paper will contain my theories on how they were a part of your plot, Lady Grantham. And if they were part of your scheme… how can they be trusted to tell the truth of matters of national importance?
"Then there are the others in your circle. Lady Sybil and the hospital, General Allen Lothrop… so many names, so many people that were either a part of your betrayal to your country or who were ruined because of your greed. It will be… interesting to sort through it all. Sift through the sand and determine what treasures appear."
"And you do not care that you will potential destroy their lives?" Lady Grantham asked.
"I merely report the news. I am not the one who decides how the public will react to it. I do not go into people's homes and whisper in their ears as they sleep, convincing them through their dreams to attack this person or degrade another."
"Yet your work inspires such things."
Richard smiled, tapping on his desk. "Just as it inspires others to not take such risks because they see what will happen to them and those they care for. People are going to learn of your actions and watch your fall, Lady Grantham, and it will make others stop before they try similar schemes. In a way it could be argued that I help prevent further tragedies rather than increasing them." He sat back in his chair. "I know it is easy for you to toss the blame for what will happen to those you care for at my feet but the truth of the matter is that I merely reported the news… you are the one that has created the con." He scoffed. "Ruining lives. Rather than ask me how I feel about such things I think it a better question is if your brief chance to add more wealth to your estate was worth destroying the lives of your daughters."
"And me?" Lady Mary asked.
"What of you?"
She flash a hard stare his way. "What do you desire to take from me?"
Richard considered her for a moment. "Nothing," he finally said.
"Nothing?" she asked, her tone making it clear she didn't believe him.
"Nothing at all."
"Then… what vendetta do you have against me?"
"None at all," Richard said, brow furrowing in confusion. "You are a housewife and your husband has a role of small importance with the military. You have done nothing to harm me, bother me, or frankly bring my attention upon you."
"I find that hard to believe," Lady Mary muttered and at once Richard saw the issue.
"Lady Mary… I do know of you. One does not live in London and mingle in the circles of eligible men and not know of your reputation. More than one young man sought your heart only for you to dig your fingers in their chest and rip theirs out instead. So allow me to inform you of something that your parents should have ages ago: the world doesn't revolve around you."
She glowered at him.
He leaned back and shook his head. It was utterly typical… cliché actually if one considered it. The spoiled daughter of a lord who believed that all the world moved about her like she was the sun in the sky. The very notion that she wasn't at the center of his plans was an impossibility that she couldn't handle. Made her enraged, frustrated, trembling with fury and wounded pride.
"You targeted my friend."
"And had Lavinia been friends with your sister I could have avoided you completely," Richard told her. "She spied on you… its clear you have discovered that so I won't deny it. But the fact remains that she only did so in my efforts to get Tom Branson… who in turn I only went through to get to your sister, Lady Edith." He looked at Lady Grantham. "I do apologize, I was mistaken earlier… there is one whose life I am ruining for my own delight and that is your second oldest. It is purely business though, you must understand. If I thought she would accept I'd offer her control of one of my papers. She has proven herself very capable." He looked back to Lady Mary. "But you? No. There is nothing you have to offer me, nothing you have done to harm me, so you are quite unneeded in all of this."
Lady Grantham drew his focus onto her. "You were quite daring to run this article. A bold risk. Do you have proof any money has changed hands?"
"Still finalizing on that front," he said, hedging his bets. There was a chance Lady Grantham had made no further moves yet to scam more of the money from her friends and the other high class members of society… but there was just as much chance that she had. Only a fool would admit he didn't know though, as it would give her a chance to try and play defense, to cover up her schemes.
"Then what proof do you have that my mother did anything wrong?" Lady Mary asked. "Other than gossip and heresay?"
"Her own words," Richard said with a smile, reaching into his desk. "Transcripts of her meeting with her American contact to discuss the deal." He pulled out a bundle of papers and set them down for them to see. "It details the entire scheme."
"Faked," Lady Mary said. "Anyone can sit at a typewriter and create a manuscript. It doesn't make it real."
"And what if it is her own voice for the world to hear?" he asked. "I have in my possession a recording of your mother discussing. She explains quite nicely the entire plot. The patch of land near Dallas… the Trinity River I believe?" There was no question about the land, as Richard knew it well. He had, upon learning of the plan, discovered through his own personal agents the parcel that was up for sale and bought claims on it himself. He was hopeful that everyone would be so horrified by what Lady Grantham and her American allies had done that none would realize that there was still a potential goldmine in the American west waiting to be claimed.
"A recording?" Lady Grantham asked softly, clearly startled.
"Oh yes. Ready to be played in court, if you attempt to sue. It will make clear to any who doubt my story just what you sought to do."
"And this American you claim I talked to," Lady Grantham probed.
"Let us not be coy and cute," Richard said. "I have her recorded to."
"But no name?"
He frowned at that. "I will have it."
"Why, I don't think yall need to find'er, cuss she's sittin' right here."
Richard's world suddenly stopped spinning as he stared… at a smirking Lady Mary.
"An ol' trick my granny taught me," Lady Mary said. Gone was the refined and aloof tongue that had asked about her part in his reporting. The noble and snobbish daughter of Lord Grnatham had disappeared. In her place might appear to be the same woman but her voice was that of a folksy woman from Texas. "I don't git ta show it off much, ya understand? It's a parlor trick but not one I can break out for every lord and a-lady that I might meet for tea." She smirked as she switched back to her natural voice. "But it is something I do enjoy using from time to time, if only for my own amusement." The Texas twang returned. "Define-ly startles folks when I do it for the first time… I ain't as good as my granny as she can do all them American accents but it has gotten a few chuckles and sputtered outbursts." She narrowed her eyes. "Though… ya don't see ta be laughin' right now, are ya Mr. Carlisle?"
That voice… that was the voice from the recording. There was no mistaking it. No believing that it was a mimicry. He'd listened to it for hours as he'd written up that story, making sure he didn't miss a word. He didn't want to risk any chance of someone claiming that he had mischaracterize the meeting so he'd memorized it all to heart. He could hear the words perfectly, every inflection, rise and fall, pause and start. And so when Lady Mary had begun to talk in that very same voice…
...no. No, it had to be a trick. It just had to be a trick!
Richard didn't let them see his nerves. Instead he calmly sat there, face utterly still, and replied, "An interesting trick indeed. Did you practice for a while to match just what your mother's partner sounds like?"
"I was her," Mary said in her normal voice. "I admit the recording was a surprise but it actually helps make our case stronger."
He chuckled at that. "I don't see how. I have proof of your mother plotting to swindle money away from the upper class."
"You have proof of her and I saying those words."
"You still said them."
Lady Grantham spoke up. "But it does hurt your story that my daughter was the one I was speaking to."
"Again you have no proof of that. Only your word against mine… and yours comes from a place of desperation. And the words themselves are very damning."
"You aren't one for the theater, are you Mr. Carlisle?" Lady Mary asked.
He wondered where she was going with the odd and sudden change in topic. "You'll find only those who do nothing more than live off the money given to them by their families have the time for such things. Most of us have to work in order to carve out for ourselves a place in the world."
If she was insulted by his comment she didn't show it. "That is too bad because there is a lovely new play that will start some performances tomorrow… a soft opening before truly becoming available for the masses. It is one I think you'd rather enjoy… a mad cap farce of a tale full of laughter. Something to get us through these troubling times. People want to smile again and it is going to take people's minds off the war."
"Lady Mary," he said, not seeing the point of this. Was sure trying to bribe him? Seduce him? If she was she'd chosen the wrong angle as he had no desire to take another man's wife. He was greedy like that and wanted to be the only person a woman loved rather than share her with another whom she was bonded to through marriage.
But the Earl of Grantham's daughter continued on. "It is a rather wonderful comedy of misunderstandings, schemes, and humorous setbacks. An American heiress who has married into British high society decides that she wishes to return to America after she is embarrassed by her so called friends at a dinner party and she believes her husband is not defending her honor. She sets up a scheme to take the money from her tormentors and invest it herself while giving them worthless parcels. It all goes wonderfully wrong at times as misunderstandings, love found and lost and found again, and of course conflicting desires and schemes all collide. It is a wonderful play." She took the newspaper she'd brought and, after removing something from within it, set it down on his table.
It was Ser Michael's Sketch and it was opened to the entertainment section, detailing the opening of 'The Weight Of Pounds' as well as a review. Richard's eyes breezed through the article and he felt his stomach lurch at mentions of plot points that matches quite solidly with what he had reported on concerning Lady Grantham's scheme.
"Catherine Lothrop wrote it," Lady Mary informed him with a smile. "She is a talented writer, though you might not be aware of that. She has written several novels but this is her first play. I do think it will be a roaring success."
"What… what are you…" Richard stammered. It felt like he was sliding down a hill, grasping desperately for anything he could grip to stop his descent, but every time he thought he had a handhold the rocks would crumble or the roots would break free of the soil and he'd be sent falling once more.
Lady Mary took the packet of papers she'd removed from the newspaper and set it on the desk, Richard staring at the script before him. "Page 7," she informed him.
Richard though didn't move to open the script. That would be a sign of desperation. But he also knew exactly what was on that page: the exact same words he'd recorded Lady Grantham saying.
"Catherine asked if I wished to audition," Lady Grantham stated. "I was embarrassed so I rented a private room to do so and Mary was so kind to read lines with me. I didn't get the part but that is understandable… I am not one for the theater but oh it was so much fun to try. I haven't played pretend like that since I was a child and acting as if I were actually trying to swindle money from good honest people? It was such an experience."
"Don't sell yourself short, mama," Lady Mary said, locking eyes with Richard. "I think you convinced one person."
"You… you set me up."
"Did I?" Mary asked. "But how could I? I am merely the spoilt daughter of an Earl and now a middle mannered house wife to a man of some small importance to the British army. To believe that I would attempt to destroy a man of your standing because you dared lie to my friend and trick her into becoming your informant? Preposterous. Nearly as much as assuming that I would craft a plot that involved the creation of a play because you tried to blackmail Tom Branson. Or you sought to destroy my sister Edith." She smiled. "I think you should try your hand at fiction, Mr. Carlisle. Me doing such things… why… I'd have to believe I was the center of the universe to be bold enough to attempt such a thing."
Lady Grantham stood up. "We'll look for your retraction and apology, Mr. Carlisle, before I go to the solicitor."
He didn't say a word as the two left. What could he say? He had to run a retraction or else they would destroy him in court. Not that avoiding that helped matters much. The retraction would make him a laughing stock. This wasn't some article buried deep within the paper; he'd blazed the headline on the front page for all to see and admitting he'd gotten it completely wrong would have people question if it was worth even buying his papers. Add into that the knowledge that the Crawleys wouldn't settle for a simple apology but would demand him to grovel if he hoped to avoid the courts…
And then there was the land.
He'd sunk so much of his fortune into that land and it was all based on a play?
Richard pressed his head into his hands and wondered what he was going to do.
