Complications

by Clare Jayne

  “What manner of remark?” Mrs Daventry demanded.

  Amelia failed to mention that she had in fact insulted Mr Brightford twice during the previous evening, only describing what she had said on the earlier occasion, concluding, “It may have been a trifle impertinent but it was entirely true. The man is unsociable, bad tempered and tiresome.”

  “He is also a highly respected gentleman,” Mrs Daventry said, “and it is certainly not for a young unrelated girl like you to speak to him in that fashion. You will not gain a husband through such sharp comments.”

  Amelia snorted. “I will certainly never marry Mr Brightford.”

  “But other gentlemen likely heard your comments and you might gain a reputation for rudeness. In the future I suggest you think carefully about what you wish to say and if it cannot be something polite then remain silent. Also, young ladies do not snort.”

  “Sorry, Mama.” Amelia feigned a meek expression, inwardly blaming Mr Brightford entirely for the unpleasant conversation.

  * * *

  Benjamin Harrington sought for something to say to his future brother-in-law as they waited in the drawing room for Lottie to change into a riding outfit. Mother had decreed the velvet curtains be opened for the occasion, risking sunlight fading the colours of the fabrics for the opportunity to show her future son-in-law their smartest room at its best. Benjamin did not think Saverney had noticed; he seemed twitchy, presumably impatient to see his fiancée. “Our family is very happy about the engagement.”

  “So is my mother,” Saverney said quickly then fell into silence, looking down to straighten the tailcoat of his elegant outfit.

  Benjamin was about to ask which horses Saverney had brought to draw his phaeton then remembered that the man had no knowledge of horses. After a casual acquaintanceship of several years, he had still found nothing that they had in common. Saverney was uninterested in horses, running an estate or prize-fighting; Saverney apparently liked balls, gambling and took an interest in the latest fashions, all of which Benjamin found rather boring. He was spared having to wrack his brain further by his sister’s arrival, her smile to them both radiant.

  “Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Mr Saverney,” she said to her fiancé.

  He had jumped to his feet and bowed to her. “It is more than worth it to see you looking so lovely.”

  She flushed and, although her carriage dress was not the most up-to-date or stylish, and although she would never be Miss Daventry’s equal for looks, her current joy gave her a true beauty.

  The two of them took their leave of Benjamin, who watched them go and wished the thought of a conventional future could bring him such joy. Lottie was the kindest of sisters and it was good to see her so happy. However, he would miss her when she left the family home. In fact, the thought of being left alone with his parents was an unpleasant one.

  He had once thought he had an affectionate relationship with them, but since telling them the truth about his nature they seldom spoke to him and made it clear that they still expected him to marry, no matter how little he or presumably the woman involved could possibly want it. After Lottie’s marriage perhaps they would see reason and he could go and live quietly on their country estate. The more time he spent in the city the more a reclusive life appealed to him; at least there he could throw himself into work and forget about his attractions to men instead of being rebuffed and disliked time after time.

  Thoughts of the countryside reminded him of a letter he wanted to write to the family’s estate manager about a tenant who was having difficulties paying the rent. The woman was recently widowed, husband and son both lost to consumption, so he had no intention of seeing her and her remaining children starve. Hopefully the estate manager would not mention the matter to Benjamin’s father who let him deal with tenant matters but would not approve of losing any rent. Benjamin walked into the library and sat down with quill, ink and parchment to compose the note. As he was finishing this a maid announced Miss Daventry’s arrival.

  He stood up as Amelia marched in and bowed to her. She responded with a curtsy, although she rolled her eyes as she did so then gave him an impish smile. He returned it, glad of the company of one of the few people he could be entirely open with, and skipped any more formalities, saying, “Lottie is not here at present. She is riding in the park with Saverney.”

  She paused with a frown, clearly having expected to find Lottie at home, but what she said was, “You do not like Mr Saverney?”

  His tone must have given him away - he did not have a high opinion of the man but did not have anything against him, so he could only shrug. He had not felt at first that Saverney returned Lottie’s adoration, but the marriage proposal settled that. It would be pleasant to find him less tedious, but perhaps that would change in time. “He does not have the standing in society that my father might have wished for but he is wealthy and comes from a good family. Anyway, Lottie loves him so I am happy for her that he returns her feelings.”

  Amelia put a gloved hand on his arm, expression sympathetic, and he realised she was thinking of his own difficulties. He felt a surge of fondness for her.

  When Lottie had said she had told her best friend about his romantic inclinations, Benjamin had been appalled. They had known each other since infancy but, given the behaviour of the friends to whom he had revealed the truth, he had expected Amelia to cut him out of her life. Instead, while never directly mentioning the subject, she had shown a quiet support that meant a lot to him, particularly when his own parents treated his nature as an evil affliction that must be hidden at all costs.

  If only there was a rule book to tell him how to live his life. Surely he was not the only man in the world who felt romantically for other men instead of women. Was he?

  * * *

  Amelia’s day was not improved by finding Lottie away from home at a time they had agreed to meet and she had the unpleasant feeling that Saverney would always be her friend’s priority from now on and that Amelia would come a poor second. Her life was rapidly changing and not in the pleasant way she had always envisaged.

  She had her carriage take her home, arriving just in time as her mother was about to leave for some charitable meeting, resplendent in a blue and purple walking dress with an elaborate feathered hat, and would need the carriage. Unfortunately, the family finances were such that they only had one equipage. On impulse, and able to think of nothing better to do, Amelia offered to accompany her mother.

  “How kind of you,” Mrs Daventry said with a sceptical glance.

  The morning was in fact not as dull as she would have expected and it was nice to spend some time with her mother. Amelia had, of course, been raised by a nurse then a governess so she had generally not seen her parents for more than several hours a week growing up. It was only in the last year that she had begun to know them and that would likely change when she married. So it was quite pleasant to spend some time with her mother as an adult. Amelia made some suggestions at the meeting which were well received by some of Edinburgh’s most influential ladies and she returned home feeling virtuous and a little smug.

  It was this mood which prompted her to retire to her bedroom to work on an embroidered cushion cover which would be a birthday present for her father. The work was more than a little tedious so, after half an hour or so, she was happy to be interrupted by a quiet knock on her door.

  Lottie entered the room, a worried frown marring her gentle expression. “Benjy said that you called to see me earlier - I had entirely forgotten we had arranged it. Can you forgive me?”

  Amelia smiled as she put down the embroidery and rose to her feet. “Of course I can. It is of no consequence.”

  They embraced and Lottie said, “It will never happen again, I promise.”

  “Then let us change the subject. How is Mr Saverney today?”

  Lottie beamed as they crossed the room to sit on chairs beside the window. “He is wonderful, so kind and attentive. His mother suggested that we have
the wedding within the next three months, perhaps as soon as next month. Is it not excellent that she and Mr Saverney feel the same as I and do not want to wait?”

  It seemed a little strange to Amelia but she dismissed her surprise and said, “Then you will still have a spring wedding. That could not be better.”

  “Indeed. Mr Saverney suggested either London or Paris for our honeymoon. What do you think?”

  Amelia frowned, thinking of the changes that the French Revolution had brought about, the deaths and those fleeing the country, then the aftermath with everyone who had ever expressed a remotely liberal view being charged with sedition and transported to Australia. “With the war so bad, I would not have thought France was a safe place to visit just now, but of course I am not an expert on the subject. I should think London would be wonderful. It has the best modistes in the country and, of course, you must buy a whole new wardrobe.”

  “Even with a new wardrobe of clothes I could never look as beautiful as you,” Lottie said in a comforting way and Amelia realised her words must have sounded wistful.

  She smiled brightly, putting the thought of elegant afternoon outfits and stunning ball gowns from her mind. “Clearly Mr Saverney thinks you more beautiful than anyone else.”

  Lottie blushed and laughed. “Perhaps. It still seems unbelievable that he can love me as much as I love him. I will try so hard to be the best wife possible to him.”

  “He is the one who is lucky and should strive to deserve you, but as he regularly expresses his admiration for you he seems to be aware of his good fortune, which is in his favour. Do you know when you will visit his country estate or how much time he intends you to spend there?”

  “He did not mention it. I will ask.”

  “You must not forget that once you are married you will be mistress of the estate. You must not defer to Mrs Saverney.”

  “But, Amelia, how can I not?” Lottie exclaimed “She has been in control of both households all of her married life. It would not be fair for me to start contradicting her orders.”

  “That is what happens when women marry, although I do understand your concern. Naturally you would not want to offend her but you must not be too meek and let her make decisions about your life.” Mrs Saverney was strong-willed and Lottie was just the opposite. It would be unfair if Lottie were forced into constant obedience the way she always had been by her parents. “If you make a stand at the outset it will be easier later.”

  “I think she likes me…”

  “… Of course she does!”

  “… So I am sure we can arrange things to satisfy us both.”

  Amelia was not so certain but they could worry about that later. “Have you any ideas for your wedding dress?”

  Lottie brightened. “Oh, yes…”

  They talked of lace, muslin and silk then Lottie took her leave and Amelia was left to wonder yet again when she would get to plan her own wedding. A few minutes later she heard footsteps on the stairs and glanced out into the corridor to see her mother returning from a luncheon engagement.

  On impulse she said, “Mama, may I speak to you for a moment?”

  “Yes, dear. You can talk to me while I change for dinner.”

  Amelia followed her mother into her bedroom and sat down on a chair to one side of the bed as Mrs Daventry’s maid, McInnes, helped her out of the lovely green and yellow walking outfit and into an elegant grey evening dress. The colour was too pale to suit Amelia, who mused that she would wear brightly coloured evening dresses when she was married. And emeralds or possibly rubies.

  “What did you wish to discuss?” her mother prompted.

  Amelia pulled her thoughts back to the present. “Lottie said something that seemed strange to me but perhaps I am failing to comprehend the matter fully. She said Mrs Saverney wanted the wedding to take place as soon as possible, maybe next month.”

  Mrs Daventry frowned as McInnes buttoned up the side of the evening dress. “It does seem a little odd.”

  “It is Lottie’s family who will gain financially from the wedding, not Mrs Saverney’s.”

  “Perhaps she simply wishes to see Mr Saverney settled as soon as possible for his own happiness. When did she talk of the wedding with Charlotte?”

  “Mr Saverney conveyed the information while he and Lottie were riding in the park.”

  “Then that explains the matter.” Mrs Daventry sat down in front of her dressing table so that McInnes could dress her hair. “Doubtless, it is he who is impatient to be married and he used his mother as an excuse to suggest it.”

  “Oh, I see.” It still seemed peculiar to Amelia but, since she knew little of men’s behaviour, she accepted her mother’s explanation and forgot about the matter.

  Chapter Three

  LOTTIE AWOKE and, as always these last few weeks, her first conscious thought was of her fiancé, Mr Saverney. She gave a laugh of delight. She had never known such love was possible and had no idea what she had done to deserve it, but suddenly her life was a paradise. If she could devote the rest of her life to being with Mr Saverney and making him happy then she could not imagine being unhappy ever again.

  She hoped Amelia would find someone to love soon, as she knew her friend had been feeling left out recently. They had known each other from infancy, both the same age and of old landed families, so their friendship was encouraged. In all honesty, there had been times when she envied Amelia’s beauty and ability to charm everyone around her and Lottie had secretly feared that no one would ever look beyond Amelia and see her, but that had been before Mr Saverney.

  Lottie was one of the few people who really knew Amelia and, underneath her love of balls and pretty things, was intelligence, wit and a good heart. It was Amelia who had enabled Lottie to take the occasional risk or speak her mind and Lottie knew she would have been greatly the poorer without Amelia’s friendship. So now she wanted Amelia to have her own share of joy - there must be someone as wonderful as Mr Saverney waiting for her.

  Her thoughts drifted to wedding preparations and she was thinking about flowers for the church when an exclamation of horror interrupted her thoughts and she jolted back to reality. She could now hear her parents’ voices, loud and agitated. It was unusual for them to argue and, from the tone of her mother’s voice, she was distressed over something.

  Lottie hastily got out of bed, put a wrap on over her nightgown and hurried into the corridor. She paused for a moment, hesitant to interrupt, but the voices continued, quiet, as if they did not want to be overheard, but alarmed. She got up her courage and knocked on the door to her mother’s bedroom. She opened it to see her parents standing, her father fully dressed while her mother was still in her nightgown.

  Mama was a strong-willed woman who had always looked with contempt upon women who fainted or developed nervous complaints. Now, though, she was pallid and looked on the verge of collapse and the sight of her like this scared Lottie.

  “What is wrong?” she asked from the doorway and when her parents turned their gazes to her their expressions grew even more distraught.

  * * *

  Amelia was startled to be led into the drawing room when she arrived at Lottie’s house, instead of simply going to her bedroom or garden as she usually did. The room was large and elegant, even though it was not decorated in the latest style and even though some unworthy person might have said that it was a little shabby. Neither her family nor Lottie’s had much money so neither of their rented houses were in the most fashionable squares in Edinburgh’s New Town, nor were their furnishings grand, but if both of them were to marry well – as Lottie was set to do – they could greatly improve the family fortunes.

  “I’ll check if Miss Harrington is up to any visitors, Miss Daventry,” the maid said and vanished before Amelia could question these unsettling words. She took a seat on an elaborately carved but uncomfortable chair.

  After a sufficiently long wait that Amelia was nearly beside herself with curiosity and worry, the maid returne
d. “I’m very sorry, Miss, but neither Miss Harrington nor Mrs Harrington can see you right now. Miss Harrington asked if you’d be good enough to return this afternoon.”

  “But what has occurred?” Amelia asked, shocked. Charlotte had only refused to see her once before and that was when she had been ill.

  The maid looked uncomfortable. “I cannot speak of it, Miss.”

  “What about Mr Benjamin Harrington or Mr Harrington? Are they available?”

  “They’re not at home, Miss Daventry. I’m truly sorry.”

  She looked close to tears so Amelia hastened to say, “It is not your fault. Just let Miss Harrington know that I will return later as she requests.”

  “Yes, Miss.”

  Amelia left that house feeling disturbed and mystified. Had there been a death in the family? Was someone ill? Had Amelia herself done something to mortally offend her friend? By luncheon Amelia’s head was full of questions but no answers.

  She was frowning over a glass of lemonade when her mother rushed into the dining room, still wearing her walking clothes. “I have heard the most dreadful rumour,” Mrs Daventry said, removing her hat, “but it cannot be true. You saw Charlotte Harrington this morning, did you not?”

  Amelia denied this, her worry escalating as she explained what had happened.

  Her mother sat down heavily on the dining chair opposite. “Then it is true.”

  “What is?” Amelia begged. “Please tell me at once what has happened.”

  * * *

  Lottie heard of Amelia’s return with dread, fearing she would burst into yet more tears and be unable to explain a thing. She steeled herself and carefully walked down the stairs on shaking legs. Amelia left the drawing room and met her at the foot of the stairs, clasping her hand. For some reason Lottie was aware of how dull she must look with her plain features and in her unadorned white morning dress next to Amelia’s beauty and style. They walked back into the drawing room, which was lit only by candles, the curtains closed to protect the furniture and tapestries from fading. They sat down, Amelia pulling her chair close to Lottie’s.