Authors: Clare Jayne
MR WRACKLEY is paying a call on you this morning, is he
not?” Mrs Daventry said over breakfast, although she could hardly have been in
any doubt over the matter.
Mrs Gallerton was, thankfully, not awake at
this hour to join them and to put forward her own many opinions on the subject.
Amelia could imagine just what she would say in any case. Amelia was worried
about speaking to Mr Wrackley and hurting his feelings and also concerned that
her mother would not understand why she was doing this.
She composed herself for a moment then
said, “I intend to turn him down, Mama.”
“I thought as much.” Mrs Daventry gave a
calm nod and went back to her breakfast.
Amelia closed her mouth on the long
explanation she had intended to give in defence of her actions and hoped that Mr
Wrackley would take the news so well.
* * *
Mr Brightford took the fob watch from his
pocket and examined the time for around the thirtieth occasion this morning. By
now Mr Wrackley would probably be speaking to Miss Daventry and he had no idea
what her answer would be to him. Why had he sent Wrackley that blasted letter
encouraging him to resume his courtship? How could he have behaved with such
stupidity?
And if only he had known that Miss Daventry
thought he did not mean to propose he could have denied this error and got in
his own proposal by now.
And why was it that he could never have a
conversation with her that did not result in the two of them losing their
tempers with each other? It had become the most annoying and counter-productive
of habits. If it had not somehow happened yesterday he could still have made
her an offer.
At least she now knew he intended to do so.
Surely that would make a difference to her decision?
He took his watch once more from his pocket
and stared at it.
* * *
“It greatly distresses me to have to cause
you pain but I cannot marry you,” Amelia told Mr Wrackley as they stood in the
drawing room. “I like you a great deal but my feelings are no stronger than
that.”
“They might grow with time,” he said, still
holding her hand.
Having seen Lottie’s happiness with Mr
Alexander Fenbridge, she believed that what he was saying was possible. It
might well have convinced her to marry him were her heart not already lost to
the most exasperating man in the world.
She squeezed his hand, letting her regret
show, then drew away. “I am so sorry, but my answer is no.”
* * *
Mr Brightford grabbed a book from the
shelves of his library when he heard the knock upon his front door. He threw
himself down into a chair and looked down at the book, then hastily turned it
the right way round, just as his cousin entered the room.
“Mrs Fenbridge and I happened to run into Wrackley
on our way back from the park,” Alex said, taking a seat opposite.
Brightford’s hands clenched around the
book. “Oh?”
Alex’s mouth twitched. “We offered him our
commiserations.”
“Indeed.” Brightford let out a shaky breath
and resisted the urge to give a cheer at this news.
“I will leave you to your reading.” Alex
got up and headed for the door, glancing back from the doorway. “A lady like
that will not be without suitors for long. For goodness’ sakes, stop dithering
and offer for her.”
“IS SHE GOING to be there tonight?” Brightford asked when
Alex walked into the library. A dinner party had never before interested him so
much.
Alex shrugged. “My wife will not tell me. It
seems she believes you have ill-treated her friend and deserve no assistance in
putting matters right.”
“But I must go out of town for a day or two
tomorrow on an urgent matter for my estate. If I do not see Miss Daventry tonight
I might not see her for several days and by then she might be too vexed to
speak to me.”
“That makes things difficult,” Alex agreed
with an utter lack of concern.
“Could you not convince your wife..?”
“No.” Alex got to his feet and patted
Brightford’s shoulder. “I am sure you will be able to sort matters out on your
own. Despite past proof to the contrary.”
Brightford gave his cousin a thin smile – so
much for getting any assistance from him.
* * *
“I wish I could wear some colour of dress
other than black to the dinner party tonight,” Amelia told Lottie as she
admired the evening gown her friend intended to wear. “I am, of course, still
grieving Papa - indeed I think I always shall - but I do not see why I have to
look ugly while doing so.”
“You could not possibly look ugly and I
doubt Mr Brightford will care what you are wearing.”
“You have still not told him I will be
there?”
“Of course not.”
“Good.” Amelia ran her hand lightly over
the blue silk gown. “Mr Alexander Fenbridge will certainly find you lovely
wearing this.”
Lottie smiled. “Alex tells me I am lovely
even if I am dressed in my oldest clothes.”
“Why would you possibly wear your old
outfits when you have beautiful new ones?” She caught Lottie’s sigh and
belatedly added, “but that is most affectionate and romantic of him.”
“One day Mr Brightford will shock you by
managing to say something romantic.”
“If he did it would probably be when I had
just taken a sip of wine and I would cough and splutter all over him. I doubt
we will ever manage a conversation where we do not disagree over something and
quarrel.”
“Does that not alarm you?” Lottie asked
with a worried expression.
Amelia thought about it. She could see her
friend’s point but then Amelia had never been one to enjoy a quiet existence. She
was happier arguing with Mr Brightford than she was being paid compliments by
any other man. “As long as he managed to kiss me between quarrels I believe I would
be content.”
* * *
Mr Brightford tried to be polite to his
hostess and her daughter while keeping one eye upon the door of the drawing
room. When Amelia arrived with her mother and aunt he grinned with relief,
somewhat startling the two ladies he was talking to. He excused himself the
moment she paused in greeting people to fetch a glass of lemonade and walked
over to her.
“I am delighted to see you here tonight.”
“Congratulations,” Amelia said to him
brightly. “That is the best first line you have said to me since we met.”
“Er, thank you. I wanted to say…”
“Ah, Miss Daventry,” their hostess, Mrs
Henton said, stepping between them, “I must introduce Lord Connell to you and
your mother. He is new to Edinburgh…”
Mrs Henton continued talking as she led Miss
Daventry away.
Alex strolled over to him. “How did your
conversation with Miss Daventry go?”
“Conversation? I barely managed to say two
words to her before we were interrupted.”
Alex sighed and shook his head. “You must do
better than that.”
Brightford glowered at him. “Should you not
be inflicting your company upon your wife?”
Alex turned to look at that lady, his expression
melting into a smile. “Just so.” He wandered off towards her.
Brightford made a mental note that if he
died before managing to wed Miss Daventry he must leave all his worldly
possessions to his far more likeable and deserving cousin, Nathan.
He kept an eye on the young lady and when
he saw that Miss Daventry was finally alone he hurried across the room to her. “I
will speak quickly before Mrs Henton finds us again…”
A butler appeared in the doorway and
announced dinner.
Brightford fought not to swear aloud.
“Perhaps you should speak concisely too,” Miss
Daventry suggested as the people began to rearrange themselves into couples by
rank for the formal procession down to the dining room.
“Indeed,” he said and did so, “I have to
leave the city tomorrow on estate business but should not be gone more than two
days at most. On my return may I request a private interview with you?”
Miss Daventry’s escort appeared to lead her
in to dinner and Brightford was forced to find the lady he must walk with ahead
of Miss Daventry. They reached the table where Miss Daventry’s seat proved to
be on the far opposite side to his. He watched desperately as she took a seat,
then she looked up and caught his eye.
She nodded.
“MISS DAVENTRY, there is a gentleman who is requesting to
speak to you alone,” the butler said in a disapproving tone.
Amelia’s heart leapt: Mr Brightford must
have managed to conclude his business more quickly than he had expected. She
threw down her embroidery, jumped up and headed to the door.
Before she could escape Mrs Gallerton
objected: “Who is this gentleman? It should be for your mother to decide
whether you may speak to him unchaperoned.”
“I am certain Mr Brightford’s request is
not in any way improper.” She attempted to leave but it was the butler who, to
her surprise, stopped her this time by clearing his throat in a meaningful
manner. “Yes, Williams?”
“My apologies for not speaking more
clearly, Miss. The gentleman waiting in the drawing room is the Duke of
Elborough.”
Amelia glanced downwards as she composed
her expression to hide her disappointment and surprise. She hoped her mother
and aunt would not pounce on the fact that Amelia had expected to be requested
to have a private audience with Mr Brightford.
“Who is the Duke of Elborough?” Mrs
Gallerton asked, clearly impressed by the title.
“A gentleman I am quite sure I do not want
Amelia speaking to alone,” Mrs Daventry said.
Amelia grimaced. “I hardly wish it either
but I do not see that we can get rid of him otherwise.”
“Will one of you tell me who this man is?”
her aunt insisted.
“The Duke tried to make Amelia an offer
last year but her father said she was too young. He is widely regarded as dangerous
and cruel.”
Williams looked with uncertainty at the
ladies and Amelia made the decision for herself. “Thank you, Williams. If the
Duke wishes to speak to me then of course I will see him. Mama, I believe you
will require my company in about five minutes?”
“Quite right, dear,” Mrs Daventry said,
“and do not allow him to intimidate you.”
Amelia nodded and walked into the drawing
room, hoping that the matter was not what she feared, although she could not
imagine what else he could want to speak to her about privately. The Duke bowed
to her, the smile he wore doing nothing to improve his ill-favoured features.
“Good morning, sir. You must understand
that my mother does not allow me to speak to gentlemen unchaperoned except in
the most exceptional circumstances.”
“Naturally,” he agreed, “but I believe she
could have no objection to what I wish to say to you.”
Amelia suspected that he could not be more
wrong in this belief. “Then would you have a seat, Your Grace?”
He gestured for her to sit first and, when
she had done so, he followed suit. “Miss Daventry, I have admired you since
your coming out last year. Your beauty, innocence and grace are beyond compare,
although I fear I am not the kind of loquacious gentleman who can speak
poetically on such matters…”
Thank goodness! She tried to get in a word
but he was off again before she could manage it.
“… I trust you will think no less of me for
speaking plainly. I wish you to do me the honour of marrying me. It will allow
you to take your place at the head of society as you deserve and I will be a
generous husband…”
He was certainly not lacking in confidence,
behaving as if her acceptance of him was a foregone conclusion. “Your Grace, I
am rendered almost speechless by this offer from such an important member of
society as yourself. However, I regret that I must turn you down.”
He stared at her as if he could not
understand her words. “If it is a matter of obtaining your mother’s permission
to marry you…”
“No, sir, it is not. I fear I cannot marry
a man I do not love.”
His expression grew darker and she felt
uneasy. “Perhaps you are too young to understand the honour I do you in making
this offer.”
“Not at all. I am highly flattered, but I
fear that does not change my answer.”
He bowed to her and swept out of the room
without another word.
Amelia gave a shaky sigh. Thank goodness
she would never have to speak to him again.
* * *
“You should not have had to see him on your
own,” Lottie said, shuddering.
“He was a little alarming,” Amelia
admitted, “but he is still a gentleman. I should think myself exceedingly
feeble if I could not turn down a man’s offer of marriage without support.”
“He is such an unpleasant man…”
“But a wealthy and important one,” Amelia
said, clearly trying for a lighter tone. “It does my sense of consequence great
good to know I have turned down such a distinguished person.”
Lottie gave a reluctant laugh. “At least
the matter is out of the way now.”
“Indeed.”
Before they could continue the conversation
a butler came into the drawing room and announced dinner. She and Amelia joined
Mrs Daventry and Mrs Gallerton in the dining room.
“Your husband is not joining us?” Mrs
Gallerton queried.
“No, there was a talk at the university
that he wished to attend.”
“I hope your husband is not one of those
intellectuals one hears about.”
Lottie saw Amelia bite back laughter as
many of Edinburgh’s titled gentlemen were fellows at Edinburgh University. “Not
at all. He simply takes an interest in matters of politics and society.”
“Does he have a seat at the House of
Lords?”
“No.”
“Hmm.” Mrs Gallerton looked dissatisfied. “I
suppose you have heard that Amelia has turned down yet another offer of
marriage?”
“Aunt!” Amelia exclaimed.
“Mrs Gallerton, that remark was uncalled
for,” Mrs Daventry said. “I explained to you what kind of man the Duke of
Elborough is.”
“Yes, yes, I intended no criticism.”
Lottie was beginning to suspect that the
woman said little that was not meant as criticism.
“The fact is that Amelia has not made the
impression upon Edinburgh society that one might have wished,” Mrs Gallerton
said, continuing before the subject of these words could object, “so I intend
to give her a second chance in a larger pond.”
Lottie saw her own confusion mirrored on
the face of her friend and that of Mrs Daventry.
“I wish to take Amelia to London and launch
her into the very best society in the world. I do not doubt that she will
immediately gain admirers there and perhaps she will finally agree to marry one
of them.”