Complications

“I AM ENGAGED,” LOTTIE told her best friend. “Mr Saverney
has asked me to marry him!”

Five minutes before this announcement
Amelia had been in an excellent mood. She had just put on a ball gown of cream
muslin over her carefully arranged black curls and Walker, her maid since
birth, exclaimed, “You must be the loveliest lassie ever to have been born.”

Amelia preened a bit at these words and
imagined all the men at the forthcoming ball taking one look at her and
instantly falling in love. Yes, everything would soon turn out as she had
always planned: she would marry a wealthy, powerful man and have all of
Scotland at her feet. England too - she could not wait for her first visit to
London.

“Now where can Miss Harrington have got
to,” Walker said, doing up the buttons at the back of the gown. “It’s not like her
to be late.”

“No, it is not,” Amelia said, frowning. Lottie
should have been here an hour ago as they had planned to get ready for the ball
together. “I hope she is not ill. It would be terrible for her to miss the
ball.”

Lady Treeton held some of the best events
of the season. It was the start of February and Edinburgh had only had a couple
of less selective dances and the odd dinner party. All the best of society
should be at the ball tonight and Amelia was keen to meet some new people.

She heard footsteps coming up the stairs
then Lottie knocked twice and burst into the bedroom with her grand
announcement.

She was glowing with happiness and Amelia
could not help but smile in return but her first thought was that Lottie would
be married first. Lottie had never done anything before Amelia so it was a
considerable shock.
But I’m so much prettier
… Amelia thought
despairingly.
And she’ll have such beautiful new clothes...

“Why, there are tears in your eyes,” Lottie
said. “You must not think for a moment that this will lessen our friendship
because nothing in the world could do that.”

With these words she moved forward to
embrace Amelia, who hugged her back. She managed a smile as they drew apart. “This
is the most wonderful news. It is an excellent match.”

Their parents were waiting so there was no
time for further conversation. Lottie had already dressed for the ball so
Walker fixed her hurriedly prepared curls while she and Amelia both put on
their gloves, then they were ready to go downstairs and leave in the carriages
with their families, Lottie talking about the proposal the entire way.

As soon as they arrived at the ball Mr and
Mrs Harrington, Lottie’s parents, joined at once by Mr Saverney and his mother,
told everyone about the engagement. After this everyone was so busy
congratulating them that Amelia was entirely ignored. It was a new experience
for her and not one she liked in the least.

She observed the group as her mother
conversed with two other ladies. Lottie’s fiancé was attractive and had charming
manners. He also had an easy-going manner which suited Lottie. Amelia herself
required a man with political ambition and more of a presence than Saverney
possessed but there was no denying that it was the best match imaginable for
her. Lottie’s family were highly respectable but had little money whereas
Saverney, also from a good family of course, was extremely wealthy. In
conclusion, Lottie could scarcely have chosen better, even without factoring
love into the matter.

His mother was perhaps his greatest
drawback. She was a formidable woman, used to getting her own way, who had an
opinion on every subject and was not always tactful in expressing it.

Amelia’s only real concern for Lottie’s
future was that if she was unable to stand up to Mrs Saverney she could end up
constantly being told what to do, as was currently the case with Lottie’s
controlling parents.

If Mrs Saverney insisted on imposing her
sense of fashion on Lottie then it would be a sorry thing indeed. The gown and
turban her ladyship were wearing of such luridly clashing colours and of such
an ugly style that it pained Amelia to look at them.

Amelia realised Mrs Saverney had caught her
stare so she had no choice but to approach with her best smile fixed in place
and say politely, “We are all so pleased about the engagement, Mrs Saverney. Mr
Saverney and Miss Harrington seem to me an ideal couple.”

“Just so, Miss Daventry. I am more than
satisfied at the prospect of Miss Harrington as a daughter-in-law.”

What high praise! Amelia wondered if Lottie
remotely returned the sentiment.

After a few more minutes of engagement
exclamations Amelia was growing irritable. She knew she was being selfish but
this was her second season - she was running out of time to marry. Admittedly
her first season had been conducted largely as an observer and her father had
made it clear he would not consider offers for her hand in marriage as he
considered fifteen years of age too young to marry, but that was beside the
point. She had not yet met anyone she felt she could love but felt she was
practical enough to be willing to lower her expectations sufficiently to
consider any man who was wealthy, of good character and family, attractive,
devoted to her and had an important political career so they could regularly
spend time in London. Surely that was little to ask?

She had been hoping to be rescued from the
dull conversations with elderly ladies and fate answered her in cruel fashion
with the arrival of the Duke of Elborough. He approached her with a predatory
smile and bowed. She responded with a polite curtsy, thinking hastily for a way
to escape.

“Miss Daventry, how charming you look. May
I request the pleasure of your next dance?”

“How kind, Your Grace. Alas, I am already
promised for it. Perhaps later in the evening.”

She curtsied again and hurriedly sought out
Lottie’s brother who was standing looking tall and wistful, as though imagining
himself somewhere he would like better. He was only a year older than Lottie,
who had a slight tendency to mother him, so he sometimes seemed more like her
younger brother, or he had done a year ago before his growth spurt and before
he gave up sulking. Amelia tended to treat him like a brother of her own. He
gave a half-hearted bow to Amelia who responded to it then said, “Mr Harrington,
you are dancing with me. Now.”

His lip curled. “I do not…”

“… Dance well. Yes, I know. However, it is
you or the Duke of Elborough.”

There was no arguing with this so he gave
in with bad grace: “Oh, very well.”

They took their places, she in the line of
female dancers, he with the men. Lottie moved to her side, Saverney opposite,
then the musicians began to play. Mr Harrington was, in fact, a perfectly
adequate dancer; he simply disliked the pastime. Amelia found this difficult to
understand as she could think of few more enjoyable ways to spend an evening.

When the music finished she accepted
invitations from a couple of young gentlemen for later dances then caught
Elborough looking in her direction again and moved to join the discussion her
father was having with several men. It was a necessary retreat.

The Duke of Elborough whipped his horses to
destruction, threatened his friends and had killed any number of men in duels. One
shuddered to think how he would treat a wife. He was also, unfortunately, the
only gentleman who currently seemed likely to ask for Amelia’s hand and while
it was pleasant to have caught the attention of a member of the peerage, she
wished he would pay her less interest.

Even her father had asked her into his
study to warn her off the Duke the previous year, letting her know about his
bad character. She had responded with a few stories she had heard from Lottie’s
brother and they had both shaken their heads and agreed that it would be best
if no sane woman agreed to marry the Duke.

And speaking of men no sane women should
marry.
Mr Brightford and his two companions bowed to
her and she curtsied, thinking that there had never been a man less aptly named
than Mr Brightford. She gathered it was fashionable for men to behave in a sardonic
manner but he took the behaviour to extremes, permanently looking either bored
or critical. Worse still, many of the younger men, for some inexplicable
reason, admired him and copied this behaviour.

After a frowning glance at Amelia, Mr
Brightford continued speaking to the group: “I have received a letter informing
me that my cousins will visit this summer so I expect they will convince me to
hold more balls and dinner parties than usual.”

“More than none, sir?” Amelia said before
she could stop herself. “How pleasant.”

His eyes narrowed and he gave her a
condescending smile. “In fact I often hold dinner parties. I simply do not
invite children to him.”

Her father hastily spoke before she could
respond to this piece of gross impertinence. “I do not believe we have had the
pleasure of meeting your cousins.”

“They have an estate in England so they do
not often have the opportunity to visit.”

“Have they been to London?” Amelia asked
eagerly, this information casting the visit in an entirely new and far more
favourable light.

He looked down his nose at her with another
slight frown. “Yes, of course.”

Unpleasant man. She had met him the
previous season and it was the only time society had disappointed her. His
expression looked always to find fault and he seemed inexplicably immune to her
beauty. Still, there was nothing likeable about him so she told herself it was
no loss.

As soon as Lottie was free from her parents
and Mr Saverney, Amelia joined her and they went in search of drinks to refresh
themselves.

“I am quite embarrassed by so much
attention,” Lottie confessed, looking flushed and a little uncomfortable. “But
everyone has been so kind in offering their congratulations.”

“It is hardly kindness. You will be a very
important member of society as Mrs Saverney.”

Lottie’s eyes widened at the thought and
Amelia realised with amazement that this had not occurred to her. It would have
been Amelia’s first thought. “I suppose you are right. I hope I can do well. You
will help me, will you not?”

Amelia smiled. “In planning balls and grand
dinner parties? Nothing could give me greater pleasure.” She caught side of
Lottie’s brother and said, “Mr Benjamin Harrington does not look much
entertained this evening. Does he have any new, er, interests?”

Mr Harrington had the habit of developing
romantic affections for men. The subject was utterly unspeakable, therefore
Amelia and Lottie conversed upon it frequently and at length.

“Luckily, no, although I fear Mr Duneton
may be here with his new fiancée.”

“Is he still not speaking to Mr Harrington?”

“No. Benjy is heart-broken. He will not say
exactly what happened but he clearly gave away his feelings and, as always,
lost another friend.”

When Mr Harrington had a tendre it was
unfortunately obvious: he tended to blush, stutter and gaze at the object of
his interest with puppy-like adoration. “There must be a man somewhere who
could return his feelings.”

Lottie bit her lip. “Father desires him to
marry.”

“No! I thought it had always been
understood that he would remain a bachelor and adopt your first child as his
heir?”

“I think he would prefer that - he
considers that it would be too unfair on any woman to marry her. Our father,
however, insists that it is his duty to do so and to find someone quickly. Poor
Benjy does not seem to appeal to women, though.”

They both turned to look at Mr Harrington
who was standing with several young women and their mothers, looking bored and
a bit disdainful, an expression Amelia felt sure he had adopted from Mr
Brightford. “Inexplicable,” she said with fond amusement. “Still, I imagine
there are women who would accept such a situation. Not ladies like us, of
course, who sensibly expect to be showered with adoration and gifts by the men
fortunate enough to be our husbands…”

“I expect no such thing!”

“… but a less wealthy, less discriminating
woman might be glad to marry Mr Harrington. I do think he must tell her the
truth about himself, though, however awkward the conversation, so that she
might make an informed decision.”

Lottie played with the lace on her fan,
frowning. “My father would not agree but I think you are right. It would be
cruel not to let her know the truth before they married.”

Their conversation ended abruptly at the
announcement of the - albeit late - arrival of His Royal Highness Prince
William Frederick, Duke of Gloucester and Edinburgh. The attendance of so grand
a figure ensured that Lady Treeton’s ball would be discussed admiringly for
months. His Royal Highness was wearing his bright army clothes and while his
excessive weight and protruding eyes made him far from attractive, Amelia
approved of his well-known opinions on the abolition of slavery and very much
wanted to meet him. Not half an hour later her father approached to say that
the prince wished to be introduced to her. She felt a little nervous meeting a
member of the royal family but he responded to her father’s introduction by
saying warmly, “I see Scotland has enough beauty to rival England.”