by Quinn, Ella
“Mary gave me a great many ideas when she and Kit were in Town.” Meg handed the older ladies cups of tea before placing some small sandwiches and biscuits on two plates for them. “Quartus, what does Lady Sarah need?”
“The problem was told to me in confidence.” He glanced at Lady Featherton and the duchess. “I should not speak of it to anyone but you.”
Hawksworth gave a short laugh, and Meg grinned. “If anyone knows how to keep a secret it is my grandmother and the duchess.”
“They are also experts in arranging matches,” Hawksworth added.
“Indeed, my dear Quartus,” Lady Feather said. “We are completely reliable. Now, how can we assist you?”
Quartus regarded the older ladies. It was true that Lady Sarah had not given him permission to include them in her confidence, but Meg was correct. If not for these two ladies, she and his brother would not be wed. Yet, was it his decision to make?
“Open your budget, brother.” Damon lowered himself onto the love seat next to Meg. “You will not receive better advice or help from anyone including my lovely wife.”
“He’s right, Quartus. They are completely trustworthy.” She offered him a cup.
“Very well.” Sitting on a chair in between the sofas, he related what Lady Sarah had told him. “As you can see, a marriage between she and I would not work. I do not wish for a wife who is in love with another. Therefore—”
“You offered to help her wed her betrothed,” the duchess finished. “But who is he?”
“His name is Mr. Jeremy Bellingham. He has just returned from the East Indies. Lady Sarah is giving me a letter to send to him in the morning.” Quartus glanced at his brother. “I hope you do not mind if he sends his reply here.”
“Not at all.” Hawksworth refilled his plate. “What I do not understand is why Markville would abrogate an agreement his father made for the lady.”
Quartus did not understand it either. His attention was distracted from the food his brother had piled on the plate. He had never seen anyone who could eat as much as Hawksworth could and remain fit.
“Bellingham . . . Bellingham,” the duchess muttered to herself.
“Lovely family. Very good ton,” Lady Featherton said. “Not noble, but related to half the houses in England.”
“Yes, yes, but I remember something.” The duchess bit into a small lemon curd tart.
“You will think of it in a moment.” Lady Featherton patted her friend’s arm before looking at Quartus. “I do not understand what Lord Markville has against Mr. Bellingham.”
“Miranda or was it Maria.” The duchess pounded her cane on the floor. “I remember now, Lucinda.”
Lady Featherton glanced at her friend. “Remember what, Constance?”
“Markville, when he was still Viscount Martin had expected to wed Maria Bellingham, and she accepted another gentleman.”
“Miranda Bellingham, you mean,” Lady Featherton corrected in a gentle voice. “Maria was her grandmother. Goodness, I had forgotten all about that. Yet it must be the reason Markville does not like his sister’s betrothal.”
Hawksworth had emptied his plate and set it on the table to the side of him. “Did he actually put it about that he was going to marry her before he proposed?”
The duchess raised an imperious brow. “The clodpole put it in the betting book at White’s.”
“This morning, he warned me away from Anna Wharton,” Quartus said. Not that there had been any need to. He admired her greatly—well more than that it seemed—but she should most likely wed someone like Lord Markville.
“Markville and the Duchess of Wharton?” Lady Featherton appeared shocked.
“It will not do at all!” The Duchess of Bridgewater thumped her cane on the floor again. “Not. At. All. It appears, Lucinda, we will have to take action.”
“That is all very well”—Lady Featherton’s brows drew together slightly—“but first we must have a plan to allow Lady Sarah time to actually wed the Mr. Bellingham.”
With the duchess and Lady Featherton involved, it appeared as if Quartus would not have much to do at all. Other than ferry letters back and forth. “Hawksworth, may I borrow your curricle again tomorrow? I am taking Lady Sarah for a drive and then Anna and I are going to the Tower of London.”
“You are?” Meg’s eyes widened. Drat it all. He should not have mentioned it. Outings with Anna would just encourage his sister-in-law’s match making tendencies.
“Well, yes. Lady Sarah would rather give me the letter away from her brother’s house. We have also agreed that we should look as if I am courting her. To put her brother and my father at ease.”
“And Anna?” Meg asked.
“She thought that since we are both new to Town, we would have more fun seeing the attractions together.” He would have said more but Shakespeare’s line about protesting too much made him keep his mouth shut.
“What an excellent idea.” Meg sat back on the sofa with a smug look on her face.
The problem was that he didn’t know if it was because he was helping Lady Sarah thwart her brother and his father or if she thought he was actually courting Anna Wharton. He also wondered how they would arrange for Lady Sarah to be away from her house long enough to marry her betrothed without Markville becoming suspicious.
“I have a question, Grandmamma, and I hope you know the answer.”
“What is it, my dear?”
“When Lady Tatiana was introduced to Quartus, she became quite rude”—Meg scrunched her nose up—“well to Hawksworth as well. I know many people do not like Somerset, but she seemed to truly detest the man.”
“Oh, that is easy. Tatiana and one of the duke’s younger brothers fell in love. His name escapes me at the moment. It was a very long time ago. She thought the former duke would come around, but for the current duke’s influence. To make a long story short, the younger brother decided to seek his fortune so that he could marry her and he died. She blames Somerset.”
“I do not understand why either duke would object.”
“There has been a long history of, shall we say, difficulties, between the Trevors and the Whitestones. It was rumored—”
“But never confirmed,” the duchess interrupted.
“Confirmation would have ruined the family,” Lady Featherton nodded.
Sensing that the older ladies were going off the subject, and very interested in the story, Quartus said, “What would have ruined her?”
“Oh, yes. It was said, that one of the earlier dukes thoroughly compromised one of the duchesses.”
“Forced her, you mean.” The duchess thumped her cane.
“So she would have to marry him?” Quartus asked.
“Well, that was his plan. The duchess and her ladies claimed that he was never alone with her. Needless to say, she carried the day.”
“Dear God.” Quartus was almost at a loss for words. “Who knew my father wasn’t the only dastardly duke.”
It was no wonder Anna’s aunt didn’t like the family. One instance would have been enough, but it appeared the Dukes of Somerset made a habit of bad behavior. It was just as well he had decided she would never marry him.
Chapter 6
“Going somewhere?”
Markville’s hard tone almost made Sarah pat her reticule to ensure that her letter to Jeremy was still there.
Looking into the hall mirror, she tied the wide bow of her bonnet under her ear. “Lord Quartus is taking me driving in the Park.”
Markville narrowed his eyes. “Why so early? He should be taking you out during the fashionable hour.”
Sarah turned, meeting her brother’s glare with one of her own. “I did not wish to be made a spectacle. He asked what time I preferred to go, and I told him this morning.” She shrugged. “We may drive to Green Park instead. I hear drinking the fresh milk is wonderful.” A sharp rap sounded on the door. “That will be Quartus now. You should be happy that we are getting along.”
“Are you?
”
“Yes, I just told you so. I find him charming and easy to talk to.” That wasn’t a lie. Quartus just wasn’t Jeremy.
“Excellent. I shall inform his father that we may begin the marriage settlement negotiations.”
Instead of mentioning Jeremy, she merely smiled politely. “As you wish. Remember, my inheritance is mine alone.”
“How long will you be out?”
She gave him her most innocent look. “I have no idea. If I am not back by dinner, feel free to inquire about me”
Her brother opened his mouth, but at the same time his butler opened the door. “My lady. Lord Quartus has arrived.”
“Have a pleasant day.” She wiggled her fingers at Markville, causing him to seethe a bit more. Well good. He deserved it. “I shall be back later.”
She could feel Markville’s stare on her back as she took Quartus’s arm and strolled out the door.
“Lady Sarah?” Quartus asked. “Are you all right?”
“I shall be perfect as soon as we are away.”
He helped her into the curricle and quickly climbed into the other side. “My sister-in-law, Meg, would like to meet you, and my brother promised to frank your letter. Shall we drive the carriage way in the Park first?”
For a moment, Sarah wished to crawl under the seat and hide. She hated to involve so many people in the plotting, but needs must. If Markville had simply left her in the country, she and Jeremy could have easily been married by her village’s vicar. But in Town, she was allowed no freedom at all, nor did she have the resources she did at home. “Yes, please. I must have some time to calm myself from my encounter with Markville and steel myself to meet your family. When I asked for your help, I did not know how many people would become involved.”
“You have no idea,” Quartus muttered cryptically. Then the corners of his lips curled up. “Neither did I. But it occurred to me that I do not even know where the nearest post office is located.”
“Oh dear. I have no idea either.” This was becoming more and more complicated. “I am very glad they offered to help.”
“Er, yes. As am I.” He slid her a look, but this time he appeared worried. “I hope you do not mind, but before Meg told me she wished to meet with your today, I had made other plans. I will leave you with her and fetch you later.”
He was abandoning her! Sarah took several deep breaths trying to calm her fears. Get a hold of yourself. You are not marrying him, so he deserves to court another lady. “I shall be fine.”
Twenty minutes later, Quartus drew up in front of a modest, but elegant house.
“Here we are.” He jumped down, and a footman helped her out of the carriage. “You will like Meg. Everyone does. Well, almost everyone. My father is probably the sole exception.”
Soon Sarah was being shown into a sunny morning room decorated in shades of cream and yellow. A young matron not much older than she came forward. “Lady Sarah. I do not know if you remember me. We met when you first came out. Meg Featherton. I am now Lady Hawksworth.”
An inkling of a memory came forth. “You were wearing pink.”
“Bright pink if I remember.” She laughed. “I do not wear that color now. I am surprised my mother allowed me out of the house in that gown.”
“Well”—Sarah pulled a face—“it was better than white.”
“Indeed it was.” Lady Hawksworth led Sarah to a small sofa. “Tea shall be served directly.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“Please call me, Meg, and I shall call you Sarah.” She nodded. “I have two other ladies I would like to involve in your dilemma, my grandmother, the Dowager Lady Featherton, and her friend, the Duchess of Bridgewater. They are very, very good at this type of planning.”
A shiver of trepidation ran through, Sarah. “Are you certain they will wish to help frustrate my brother’s attempts to stop me from marrying my betrothed?”
“Quite certain.” Meg’s firm assurance made Sarah feel better. “They are in the garden and should be here any moment. If you will give your letter to Quartus”—Meg glanced at him—“Hawksworth is in his study waiting to frank it for you. Make sure you have our butler send it express.”
She gave him the missive as two elderly ladies entered the room.
“Grandmamma, duchess,” Meg grinned, “this is Lady Sarah Martin. Sarah, my grandmother, and the Duchess of Bridgewater.”
“A pleasure to meet you, my dear,” Lady Featherton said in a voice so sweet and kind that Sarah wanted to throw herself in to the woman’s arms and tell her all her troubles.
“Lady Sarah, we knew your parents and grandparents.” The duchess sat in a chair next to the sofa where Meg began to pour tea. “We will get this all straightened out as it should be.”
“Yes, indeed.” Lady Featherton nodded. “Helping young people is our forté. Quartus told us some of what was going on, but we would like to hear the whole story from you.”
After being served a cup of tea, and taking a large sip, Sarah began, “I was seventeen and just out when I met Jeremy. He said he knew immediately he wanted to marry me”—she couldn’t stop her cheeks from becoming warm—“but I am of a more cautious nature. After a few weeks, though, it became clear to me that I loved him. He was getting ready to sail to the East Indies, and asked my father if we could wed so that I could accompany him. My father refused. I suppose now that I think about it that should not have surprised me. Yet, at the time I was devastated. That was when the agreement was made that if we still wished to marry when he returned, we could become betrothed. However, we had to wed by my twenty-first birthday. My father insisted that I would wait no longer.” She stared at the biscuit for a moment then took a bite and swallowed. “We were given permission to write to each other, and with each letter we became closer and more in love. Two years ago, my father died and my mother went to live in Bath, and a cousin came to act as my companion. My brother wanted me to come to Town for the Season, and I refused. At the same time, I missed at least one or two of Jeremy’s letters. I wrote him immediately asking him to address his missives to me to my old nurse. She lives in a cottage on the estate. Once he began using her address, the letters came as they always had.” Sarah glanced at all three women. “I am certain Markville tried to stop me from receiving Jeremy’s correspondence. Just yesterday, my brother told me if my betrothed does not arrive by my birthday, he will choose my husband.”
“Well, of all the high-handed, imbecilic things to do. All due to his disappointment.” Lady Featherton huffed. Sarah waited for her to elaborate on that last part, but Lady Featherton stopped and frowned. “Never fear, my dear. We will see you and your Jeremy wed.”
“The question is,” the duchess said, “how do we manage to get Sarah away from her house long enough to marry her betrothed?”
An hour and a half later, Meg rose. “I am going to send a note around to your brother that you are joining us for luncheon.”
In a few minutes the missive was dispatched, and the ladies went back to discussing options.
“The problem is that we are in the middle of the Season,” she said. “If it was not for that, I would suggest a house party.” A pretty blush stained her cheeks. “It worked well for Hawksworth and me.”
“Margaret Hawksworth”—the duchess pounded her cane on the floor—“you have your grandmother’s brains. A house party is just the thing. The question is where to have it?”
Sarah listened as names flew back and forth. Finally Meg said, “Caro Huntley’s house would be perfect. It is not so far from Town that people would wonder at it, and it is far enough away that one would not wish to simply drop in. If one were rude enough to appear uninvited.”
Such as Markville. She had met the Earl and Countess of Huntley this morning during her short drive with Quartus. They had stopped and chatted with the couple as they were strolling. But would Lady Huntley agree to host a party on such short notice? Sarah sat forward on her seat. “Where is their estate?”
“Suffolk, near Long Melford,” Meg replied. “I shall send a note around asking if we may have a private discussion after luncheon.”
Within a few minutes, the message was dispatched with orders that the footman wait for a reply. Less than an hour later, a beautiful lady with pale blond hair and startling blue eyes was announced and ushered into the room.
Lady Huntley halted near the door, her eyes scanning the company, and smiled. “I sense a conspiracy.” She took the chair Meg indicated. “Now, tell me all about it.”
A little while later, she pursed her lips and nodded. “Yes, I think this will work. I shall make up a guest list and send it here for you to look over. We do not want anyone who will report back to either Somerset or Lord Markville or any of their friends.”
In the meantime . . .
“It is exquisite!” Anna exclaimed as Quartus and she explored the grounds of the Tower of London. “Such a shame that such a beautiful place would be turned into a prison.”
“I agree. Though, it was used as a prison at different periods since the twelfth century.”
They turned back to where the Royal Menagerie was to be found. “Did you know that all the animals here were given to the king?”
“Of course. I think every English school child knows that.” She slid him one of wicked looks she had been giving him since he’d fetched her. “Even in Tortola, we are still English.”
He could have groaned. “Forgive me. I did not think.”
“No, no. I am or was, completely ignorant about the ton and most of London. It was a reasonable supposition that I would not know how the beasts came to be here.”
The side of her soft breast pressed into his arm, and he stifled a groan. She could not possibly know what she was doing to him. Despite his best efforts to keep a distance between them, he felt himself becoming closer to her. And that would not do. For a number of reasons. Firstly, she needed to marry a peer. Someone who could help her manage her holdings and vote in the Lords as she could not. All he could give her was his support and love.
Blast it all! Where had that thought come from? He was not falling in love. He would not.
