Complications (8 page)

IT WAS BENJAMIN and Mr Nathaniel
Fenbridge who suggested the idea, then Lottie mentioned it to Amelia who at
once began making arrangements. Two days later the party of six set out in two
carriages to visit the formal gardens of Edinburgh Castle, taking a large
picnic with them. It was another balmy day - indeed she could remember few such
fine summers - but Amelia’s happiness turned to acute disappointment at the
realisation that Mr Wrackley was not taking part in the expedition. She had
been so certain of seeing him again and had accordingly taken two hours trying
on different outfits to ensure she was looking her best, so the news, conveyed
by Mr Alexander Fenbridge, that Mr Wrackley had business in the city was a
great blow. He was a stranger to Edinburgh - how could he have such pressing
business that would keep him from her side?

She was sharing a carriage with just Lottie
- the four men in the other conveyance - so she could express her feelings
aloud.

“I am sure he would not have stayed in
Edinburgh had it not been absolutely necessary,” Lottie said to her. “He is an
important man with his own estate to run. He likely received a letter about his
estate that he had to attend to immediately, or something else of that nature.”

Amelia nodded at the sense in this. “But I
had so wanted to see him and for you to see how perfectly matched we are.”

“I am certain there will be countless
occasions in the future for that.”

Lottie was in a cheerful mood and that was
pleasant to see but Amelia wished that they might both be in good humour at the
same time just once. It seemed that in the last few months there had always
been something occurring to vex or upset one of them, usually Lottie. Still,
Lottie was right that this was just a brief disappointment, nothing more
sinister, so she would not ruin the expedition for her friend by being
downcast.

They arrived at the destination, made
polite comments about the stunning gardens then enjoyed the sunshine while a
footman laid out the picnic. Amelia waved to Lottie who was standing at the
river and had gestured to her to look at the family of swans gliding by.

“I saw a pheasant stalking about near the
trees if you are interested in birdlife,” Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge said,
appearing at her side, his eyes also upon the river.

“I do like to see various birds and mammals
living their lives. They seem more restful than people somehow.”

“That sounds like something Jolly would
say, only with more of a scathing tone towards humanity.”

“Who?” An absurd thought struck her. “You
cannot mean Mr Brightford?”

“It is an old nickname,” Mr Nathaniel
Fenbridge said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“And an ironic one unless he is much
changed.”

His mouth twitched. “I should not reveal
this…”

She stepped closer to him, leaning forward
to listen.

“… But he was in fact worse as a child.”

She gasped. “I would not have thought it
possible.”

“He was the kind of child who disapproved
of pranks and who told tales on any trouble Alex or myself got into.”

“I can picture it clearly.” A miniature
Brightford, smaller but with just the same condescending frown. “Did your relations
force you to spend a lot of time with him?”

“Not too much but we certainly did not look
forward to the visits.” He gave a contagious laugh.

“Worse than he is now.” It hardly bore
thinking about. She had certainly never met a man more critical and prone to
disapproval. It was unfair of him too because, with his wealth and good family
name, he would otherwise be a good catch for some young lady.

“Do not misunderstand me,” he said,
interrupting her thoughts. “I am fond of him now and he has acknowledged that
he was unbearable. He might still have that disapproving look about him…”

“Certainly whenever he observes me!”

“… But he is a good, kind man underneath
it.”

“Indeed?” She could not help injecting a
note of doubt over this assessment.

“I can assure you of it.”

They headed to where the picnic was set up
in the shade of a beech tree and Amelia could not help glancing at Mr
Brightford and considering what Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge had said. He was an
attractive man, she observed, trying to be fair in her assessment, tall and
slender but with a definite strength to him. He did not dress as handsomely as Mr
Wrackley, of course, nor have such charm and really the way he frowned all the
time was highly irritating…

She gave up trying to make in impartial
assessment of him and went to find Lottie who was strolling towards them with Mr
Alexander Fenbridge, laughing at something he had said. The sight was such a
rare one in recent times that Amelia paused, smiling, to see her friend so
happy. The two of them caught up with her and she could not help saying to
Lottie, “Has Mr Fenbridge told you of the nickname he and Mr Nathaniel
Fenbridge have for their cousin?”

* * *

“Mr Wrackley!”

Amelia had not thought to see him when she
had rode to the shops, just her maid, Walker, with her, to have the heel from
one of a pair of dance slippers repaired. It was the day after the expedition,
which had been a lovely day and, Amelia thought, it had done Lottie good to get
away from the opinions and censure of Edinburgh society.

As always the sight of Mr Wrackley left her
nearly breathless and agitated. He was impeccably dressed as always and she
could not imagine any other man being so handsome. She curtsied as she sought
something to say.

“Miss Daventry.” He bowed to her but his
tone was lifeless and his expression serious.

“Is everything well? Mr Alexander Fenbridge
said that you had business in the city. I hope it was not unsuccessful?”

“No.” He glanced away. “The, er, matter is
settled perfectly well. Was your outing pleasant?”

“Very much so, but we were all sorry that
you missed it.”

“As was I.” He touched his watch fob then
let his hand fall away in a restless manner. “Forgive me, but I must return to Brightford’s
house or I will be late.”

He was gone almost before she could curtsy,
striding away without a backwards glance and she stared after him in dismay. What
could have prompted him to behave so coldly towards her? Perhaps her behaviour
at the ball had been too forward or he had met someone he liked better. She
felt ill at such thoughts, her hopes for a future with him falling apart.

She could not get the hard expression on
his face out of her head. He had not smiled at her once.

* * *

Lottie sighed and wished her life could
somehow magically change.

Yesterday had been a beautiful day - she
could not have asked for anything better. The weather had been sunny, the
countryside beautiful and the gentlemen had been polite and friendly but not
over-solicitous in the way that always made her uncomfortable.

She had returned home feeling that perhaps
she could finally put Mr Saverney behind her, but at the shops with her mother
there had yet again been whispers in her direction and amused looks. Was she
really the most interesting source of gossip for the whole of Edinburgh
society? She kept thinking with longing of returning to the countryside where
no one knew what had happened to her but her family would not do this for
several months. She felt she had been thrown into a sophisticated world this
year that she did not know how to handle: she enjoyed dancing at balls but
flirtatious compliments embarrassed her and she spent half her time acutely
aware of how awkward she was in comparison with Amelia.

However, when Mr Wrackley proposed to
Amelia that would take Lottie’s mind off it all and give her something good to
focus on. She wondered how soon he would do so. She had never doubted that
Amelia would get engaged this season, her friend’s beauty and confidence always
winning admirers and she was delighted that Amelia had found a man she could
love, not merely respect. Amelia would be so happy...

* * *

Amelia arrived at Lottie’s house to visit
her just as Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge was leaving, presumably after seeing
Benjamin. They paused to briefly greet each other on the steps outside. Having
done so he began to walk away and, on impulse, she said his name, stopping him.
When he turned back she swallowed nervously.

“Mr Fenbridge, do you know if I have
perhaps done something to offend Mr Wrackley?” She felt embarrassed mentioning
it, knowing it was improper to do so, but might never get another chance to
speak to him alone and she had to find out what had gone wrong between herself
and Mr Wrackley. If she knew what was wrong she might be able to mend it.

His brow furrowed in concern and he said
gently, “I fear that he has not taken me into his confidence on the subject.”

“You do not think…” She hesitated then said
quickly, blushing, “You do not think he could have misunderstood my friendship
with you?”

He smiled as if she had made a joke. “He would
never think that. Wrackley knows that I, er, am not the marrying kind.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, delighted. “Then you
and Mr Harrington …” She covered her mouth with her hand as she realised the
extent of her indiscretion.

However, Mr Fenbridge did not look in the
least offended, simply remarking, “I did not realise that young ladies, as a
rule, knew of such things.”

“We do not,” she said contritely, “and we
certainly never speak of them.”

He laughed. “Well, then let us simply say
that I have hopes that Mr Harrington and myself will be able to remain close
friends for the rest of our lives.”

“I am so glad.”

He paused then said, “Would you like me to
try to ascertain why Mr Wrackley’s behaviour towards you has changed?” When she
bit her lip he added, “I will be discreet.”

She smiled, liking him more than ever and
glad that she had taken him into her confidence. “Thank you.”

She then sought Lottie out upstairs and was
instantly asked whether she had received a proposal from Mr Wrackley. She
forced a smile onto her face as she demurred.

* * *

Nathan dealt out the cards to Brightford
and Alex then, just because Brightford finally had a decent hand, got up and
crossed the room to where Wrackley was sitting with a book in his hands. Wrackley
was never much of a reader and, as far as Brightford had noticed, had not
turned a page in the last hour.

“I could not help observing that you
treated Miss Daventry in a somewhat cool manner yesterday.” Fenbridge said
quietly.

Brightford looked at the cards in his hand
but they faded from his vision as he listened to the conversation on the other
side of the drawing room.

Wrackley said shortly, “Without meaning any
offence, Nathan, how is that your concern?”

“I like the young lady and would not wish
to see her distressed.”

Alex prompted Brightford to call and he did
so automatically, no longer caring whether he won or lost the game.

“You know her as little as I do. I behaved
as I did yesterday as I did not wish Miss Daventry to misunderstand my
intentions. I think her lovely but not someone my family would approve of my
marrying.” After this speech Wrackley strode from the room and Nathan joined
them to finally play the already dealt game of cards, although his expression
remained troubled.

“I was not aware that you were more than slightly
acquainted with Miss Daventry,” Brightford commented, moving suits around in
his hand.

“I have run into her a couple of times at
Harrington’s household. We have conversed and I think highly of her.”

“Then I believe you have been deceived,”
Brightford felt encumbered to point out. “As far as I can see, the chit is
utterly mercenary in her pursuit of a wealthy husband.”

“You cannot fault her for that,” Alex said,
weighing into the conversation on his brother’s side. He threw away a card and
Nathan picked one up from the pack. “Her family is relatively poor so it is her
duty to marry well. You would not fault a man for pursuing a wealthy woman to
help his family and his inheritance, would you?”

“That is different. One expects a
delicately reared young lady to behave with more innocence, to behave more like
Miss Harrington, for example.”

“You criticize her for being intelligent
then?” Nathan teased, adding, “She is the heiress to the estate whereas Miss
Harrington has a brother to take care of her. Miss Daventry has more
responsibility.”

Brightford snorted, amazed that Nathan of
all people could have been taken in by a pretty face. A pretty female face. “If
that young woman has ever thought of anything beyond her own pleasure I will
eat my hat.”

“Then you should do so,” Nathan said. “I
know for a fact straight from Benj - from Harrington that she has constantly
supported Miss Harrington through the unpleasant business with Mr Saverney. Harrington
says Miss Daventry has done all she can to lift Miss Harrington’s spirits and,
indeed, he clearly thinks of her fondly, almost like another sister, himself.”