by Abigail Agar
Yes, one day she wanted to be married. But that they would come in time. And it would come with the right man. Of course, that man would be of her own station. But there was nothing wrong with that.
Beatrice was convinced that she would be happy then. Maybe she was not happy now, but one day, she would be.
“Come, chin up, my dear. Tell me all of the positive things that happened today,” Beatrice said.
“I am not unhappy, truly. As I said, I am just worried. I don’t know if we are a match and I so want to be. But yes, there were good things from the afternoon,” she said.
“Such as?” Beatrice asked, pushing away the hurt in her chest.
“Well, he gave me flowers. He told me that I looked lovely. Oh, and Lord Hawthorn even made mention of us taking a trip to Wolverhampton once we are married. I do hope that we can go to Brighton one day, as well,” she said.
“All of those things sound positively wonderful,” Beatrice said.
“Yes, I thought so as well. And I think that we would have a nice time. Did you know that his mother is a distant relation to the great Sir Isaac Newton?” Isla asked.
Beatrice tried not to scoff.
“My dear Isla, doesn’t everyone say that their family is related to some great Briton? I can’t imagine that it is ever true,” she said, rather cynically.
“I know, I know, but he is a very honest man. I find it difficult to assume that he is lying,” Isla said.
“You think well of him,” Beatrice said.
“Yes, I do. Why shouldn’t I? He has done nothing to cause any suspicion,” she said.
Beatrice agreed, but she didn’t want to think about it.
“All right, and what else? What more happened while the two of you were out?” Beatrice asked.
“We spoke about our families. Not in any great depth, but he told me about his mother and the fact that she has no love for societal events,” Isla said.
“Well, I can hardly blame her for that. Even the sort of town events that I went to with my family were overwhelming at times. To attend an event during the London season sounds rather exhausting. The party was enough of a drain on my energy and I am not even the sort of woman that it was for,” Beatrice said.
Isla looked at her without amusement.
“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” Beatrice asked.
“It is only difficult for me to think that you and I do not belong to the same society. Anyway, all of that aside, I did have a very nice time with him,” she said.
“So, what does the future hold for the two of you?” Beatrice asked, preparing herself for the news that she did not wish to hear.
“We are going to be married in three months. I think it will be a lovely wedding. Based on this afternoon, I can tell that he is going to be a wonderful husband. He will be very sweet, certainly,” Isla said.
“Yes, I imagine so. That is very good to hear,” Beatrice said.
“And I believe we are likely to spend some time in the countryside after the wedding. I will see his estate there and get to know his mother. She sounds like a very interesting woman. Quite accomplished,” Isla said.
“You will likely learn a good deal from her,” Beatrice said.
“And I believe we are to spend a few afternoons each week together until the wedding. Enjoying one another’s company for walks in Hyde Park and, of course, having lunch with my family. And dinners, as well,” Isla said.
Yes, it was difficult to hear these things. It was difficult to know that Isla and Lord Hawthorn had had a nice afternoon. But that was selfishness.
Beatrice would never have something like that.
That was the hardest part. She would never have a romance so beautiful. And all of her feelings towards Lord Hawthorn were wasted.
Beatrice took a deep breath and continued to listen.
There was nothing else that she could do.
“Anyway,” Isla said, finishing her thoughts. “What did you do this afternoon?”
The question was rather a dull one, compared to Isla’s exciting day. And it hardly included a handsome and lovely gentleman.
“Cecile is doing very well with her grammar. She is much improved. We primarily focused on that. And Mary is starting to show more devotion to her singing,” Beatrice said.
“She has such a lovely voice,” Isla replied.
“She truly does. Anyway, we had a nice afternoon. It was possibly one of our most productive yet,” Beatrice told her.
“And do you think that you will be here permanently? As a governess, I mean?” Isla asked.
Beatrice had been asking herself the same question of late. If Isla was gone, would she want to stay?
She was very devoted to her charges and very close to the family. There was no reason that she should want to leave. And yet, it was Isla’s friendship that had meant more to her than anything else. It would break her heart to lose that.
“I hope so. This has become my home. There is nowhere else that I would rather be,” Beatrice said.
What she left unsaid was the fact that there was nowhere else for her to go. Her mother and father could not afford to take her in again and she had no other prospects for work.
But, ultimately, it was home. She just had to decide whether or not it was the home where she would remain forever.
Chapter 8
“Are you looking forward to Friday evening?” Andrew asked Peter.
“Most definitely! I can hardly wait. It is the first ball that you have hosted, is it not?” Peter asked.
“Yes, it is. My sister begged me. She wishes so strongly to find a husband and I thought it was only right that I honour her request,” Andrew said.
“I am glad to hear it. She will be so happy that you have indulged her. And I trust that she is bound to find a potential suitor among your guests. I know your sister and she is quite charismatic. She will be unable to refrain from garnering attention,” Peter said.
“I don’t even wish to consider it. She is too young to marry,” Andrew said.
“She is nineteen. That is a perfect age for a young woman to find a prospect,” Peter said.
“Yes, but she is my sister. I am allowed to think of her always as the child of ten who believed that fairies were in our garden,” Andrew said.
Peter chuckled and nearly spit out his tea.
“Perhaps if you tell that to all of the gentlemen, they will stay away,” Peter said.
“It is not a bad idea. But, in all honesty, I know that she must find a husband. I want to do my best to make that happen. It is not easy to see someone that I care for so much starting to grow up, but there it is,” Andrew said.
“Imagine how your mother must feel,” Peter said.
“She cried when I suggested it,” Andrew said.
Peter’s own family was not as sensitive as Andrew’s, but a small part of him envied that closeness. Certainly, he was on good terms with his mother, but she could be somewhat cold at times. He had nothing like the warmth that Andrew shared with his own mother.
“I have arranged everything I could think of for the ball. I think it will be grand enough,” Andrew said.
“Grand enough to attract the finest men of England?” Peter asked.
“Well, I know that you and I shall be there, so I suppose it will,” he said with mock arrogance.
But Peter was well aware of the fact that it was going to be a difficult evening. After all, it was Andrew who seemed to like Lady Seton so much.
Of course, Peter was the one who would be dancing with her throughout the evening. He was going to have to court her, publically.
The whole evening would be expectation after expectation.
Still, it was Andrew who had arranged for the ball to take place. If he wanted to avoid the hurt, he would not have done so. The fact that he had chosen to reassured Peter somewhat.
Perhaps, it meant that Andrew was feeling better about everything. Maybe he was even content with the fact that Lady Seton was
going to be Peter’s wife.
“What musicians did you manage to hire?” Peter asked.
“The Cheltam Orchestra. I hope that it is grand enough,” Andrew said.
Peter nodded, wide-eyed. The Cheltam Orchestra was usually hired by dukes, not barons. It would be a wonderful display of nearly twenty musicians.
“Will they all fit?” Peter asked.
“Yes, we have arranged everything. They have even visited our facilities and have agreed that there will be room,” Andrew said.
“I suppose you’re right. Your hall is very large,” he said.
But Andrew did not seem happy at all. Even as they discussed these details, he appeared to be distracted.
“Are you unhappy about all of this?” Peter asked him, directly.
“No. Not unhappy. I know that it will be good for my sister and an enjoyable night for many. But I cannot pretend that I am looking forward to the event. Not when I have no match of my own to dance with,” Andrew said.
“Yes, that must be difficult,” Peter said, his voice hushed and sad.
“Anyway, it is what it is. So long as you are present, all will be well,” he said.
“And if Lady Seton is there?” Peter asked.
“All the better. The two of you are lovely together when you dance. I am sure that you will enjoy the ball with your intended present,” Andrew said, his voice sounding chipper enough that another man would have failed to note the hint of longing that was in it.
Peter didn’t want to point it out. He just wanted to help.
Lady Seton truly was a good woman. Peter was growing more and more aware of that. In fact, he was realising that he really could like her. There was much to like about her. She was beautiful and kind and intelligent. She was dignified and graceful.
Why would he not like her?
In that moment, Miss Cloud’s face flashed in his mind. Peter fought it off. He did not want to think about her. Actually, that was the problem.
He did want to think about her.
But he knew that it was wrong. After all, he was engaged to another woman.
Yes, he wished that she could attend the ball. They could dance together, happily and amusingly, as they had spoken of. But that was impossible.
How could he even ask Andrew for such a thing?
“Friday evening, then?” Peter asked.
Andrew nodded in confirmation.
“Yes. Friday evening.”
***
“It is so lovely,” Lady Seton said as Peter led her out of the coach.
“Yes, it is. Lord Beckridge’s estate is splendid,” he said.
“I didn’t know the baron’s home would be so beautiful,” she commented.
“Oh, it is absolutely stunning. Wait until you see inside,” Peter remarked. He found himself wanting to show her how important Andrew was. It felt as though he was giving the two of them a chance to get to know one another without having any of the awkwardness of their situation get in the way.
Why was it that Peter would have been happier for Andrew than he was for himself? He had every reason to want to marry Lady Seton.
“Did you see that?” she asked as they entered and found a troupe of professional dancers in the hall.
It was quite nice to see the excitement upon her face, a kind of childish giddiness that made Lady Seton appear so innocent and youthful. It was beautiful.
“They are so talented, are they not?” Peter asked.
“I have never seen anything like it,” she replied.
“Well, I am glad you have a chance to see it now,” he said.
“And the baron, he is a good man?” she asked.
“The best,” Peter replied.
He saw her cheeks warm but pushed past the awareness of it. Lady Seton was going to be his wife and nothing was going to change that. The last thing Peter wanted was to allow petty jealousy to become a factor.
As they stood in the main hall, the musicians were already creating the loveliest music. Peter was looking forward to hearing it throughout the evening as music was a great joy to him.
The room was filled with all manner of edible delicacies. There were treats of all kinds; delicious cakes and fruits and cheeses. It was a stunning array.
“Would you like any refreshments?” Peter offered.
“Oh, certainly!” she exclaimed, looking giddy and girlish.
Peter tried to hold her expression in his mind, capturing it. It was a beautiful and happy face and he enjoyed seeing this side of her. If he was going to fall in love with and marry Lady Seton, he would make every effort to notice these things.
Finally, Peter saw Andrew near the front of the hall, speaking with the conductor about the music. He made his way over to him, Isla in tow.
“Andrew, everything is absolutely wonderful. You did an incredible job preparing for this,” Peter said.
“Thank you, My Lord,” Andrew replied, somewhat formally.
“There is already such a large turnout. I am certain that many more are going to show up as well. It looks like this is going to be a ball that will be spoken of for months to come. Years, perhaps,” Peter said.
“I’m not sure about that, but I do hope that everyone enjoys themselves,” Andrew said.
“Everyone will. I have no doubt,” Peter said.
“That is very well. Anyway, I am happy that the two of you have come. Enjoy the evening,” Andrew said, rushing off to the next thing.
Peter was hurt. He didn’t want to be, but he couldn’t help it. Andrew was his dearest friend; why wasn’t he willing to stay and talk for a short while?
It was only after about ten minutes had passed, when Peter and Lady Seton were still enjoying the refreshments and chatting with other guests, that Peter saw Andrew enjoying his first dance of the evening.
The young woman was beautiful. Lady Price, if he recalled correctly. And Andrew seemed to be having a nice time, even talking and subtly flirting with her whenever they came together.
Peter saw that she was laughing at something that Andrew had said and, for a moment, Peter thought that everything was going to be all right after all. It looked as though Andrew was going to get through the struggle of an evening in which Peter and Lady Seton were dancing.
As the night wore on, they did dance. Lady Seton danced with a lovely, elegant air. And Peter tried to respond, despite his somewhat awkward movements that had to be thought through at every step, forcing his body this way and that.
But, although he danced the maximum allowed number with Lady Seton, he saw that Andrew was dancing nearly every dance with a different young woman. And each one, he appeared to regale with all sorts of anecdotes.
He wanted to find the right time to go and speak with his friend, to ask him what was going on and why he was suddenly behaving with such a determination to indulge the young women. It wasn’t like Andrew to behave in this way.
