by Clare Jayne
“May I request a dance with you, Miss Daventry?” Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge asked and Amelia willingly assented. Before they moved away he expressed a hope for further discussions with Benjamin, ensuring that gentleman’s happiness for the rest of the evening.
The quadrille was a lively dance and Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge an excellent dancer so Amelia lost herself for a time in the elaborate moves. When the dance finally came to a close they rejoined the group and even Mr Brightford’s arrival could not dampen Amelia’s enjoyment.
“I must congratulate you on an excellent ball, Mr Brightford,” she said with no sarcasm at all.
“Miss Daventry,” he said in a mocking tone, “I am pleasantly surprised that you find it so.”
“I am pleasantly surprised myself,” she responded in a tone that said she was in fact astonished that he had succeeded so well.
“Miss Daventry…”
She turned with a smile which froze at the sight of the Duke of Elborough.
“… May I have this dance?”
She sought for a reason to refuse him and could think of nothing. “Certainly, Your Grace.”
He was a good dancer, but he stood too close to her and she did not like the way he looked at her, as if she were a snack he wished to devour. However, her spirits rose at the sight of Lottie dancing with Mr Brightford and she could almost like him for this kindness. The music, which she would normally have enjoyed, went on for far too long. When it ended she smiled politely to the Duke and, for fear that he would attempt to strike up an uncomfortable conversation, begged him to fetch her a drink. As he did so she returned to the group where Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge and Benjamin were having an animated discussion about horses. Lottie and Mr Brightford walked back then he was called away by another guest.
Lottie leaned forward to speak to her but was prevented by the Duke’s reappearance with drinks which he presented to the two ladies with a smile. He then hovered at Amelia’s side, making small talk. She finished her drink and, thankfully, Mr Alexander Fenbridge asked her to dance, after which time the Duke had vanished.
The evening was drawing to a close when she caught sight of Mr Brightford talking to a dark haired gentleman she did not know. The gentleman caught her glance and his eyes widened in clear admiration. He said something to Mr Brightford, with a nod in Amelia’s direction. She looked away, hiding a smile, and tried to look surprised when the men approached her.
“Miss Daventry,” Mr Brightford said, “may I introduce Mr Wrackley, a friend of my cousins who accompanied them on their visit here. Wrackley, this is Miss Daventry.”
He bowed and gave her a warm smile that seemed to reach deep inside her. She curtsied, heart beating loudly in her chest. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen, tall and strong-looking with warm brown eyes that caused a strange nervousness in her.
“It is a great pleasure, Miss Daventry. May I request a dance?”
They both glanced over at the musicians, who were packing away their instruments.
“Unfortunately I cannot accept your offer,” she said.
“I regret exceedingly that we did not meet earlier tonight,” he said, “but I will be staying with Brightford for a while so I hope to see you again soon.”
Amelia saw Brightford roll his eyes at this but she was charmed by the man. “I am sure you shall. That is, Mr Brightford and I tend to be invited to the same events, although I am not convinced that he takes any pleasure in them.”
“I am not much of a dancer,” Brightford said, not denying her words.
“I am astonished that anyone could object to any event that included such charming company. Miss Daventry, would it be overly forward to request a dance with you at the next ball we both attend?”
“I would be happy to save one for you.”
“A cotillian?”
“Gladly as that is one of my favourites.”
The gentlemen bowed and withdrew then Lottie said farewell and left with her parents and Amelia’s own parents announced it was time to return home.
She took her leave of Mr Wrackley and his cousins. In the carriage she thought that Lottie had seemed in far better spirits than she had been since the broken engagement and even Brightford was in a less offensive mood than usual. And Mr Wrackley… Amelia was almost afraid to think about him for fear she had just dreamed such a man. She would be sensible about the matter and see how things went at their next meeting. She instinctively smiled at the thought of seeing him again. Yes, she thought, the evening had been a great success.
Chapter Six
DESPITE THE BALL having lasted until the early hours of the morning, Lottie awoke at her usual time and put on a plain morning dress, utterly different from the lacy muslin gown she had worn the night before. It had been the pleasantest of evenings and her fears of people referring to her broken engagement had proved unfounded. Perhaps Amelia had been correct and Lottie had been hiding away unnecessarily. The sun was shining outside and it would be nice to go to the park or visit a few haberdashers and perfumers with Amelia.
She walked into the dining room, the smell of food after the previous night’s exertions giving her a keen appetite. Then her parents turned to look at her with unhappy expressions she had come to dread and, with a knotting sensation in her stomach, she knew somehow that the cause was the same as on the last occasion.
“Is it Mr Saverney?”
Her mother walked over to put an arm round her shoulder, an affectionate gesture that was entirely out of character. Lottie felt sick as her mother said, “That man has had the effrontery to return to Edinburgh with …”
“His bride?”
“If that word can be applied to such a low creature.”
“I see. Thank you.”
She turned and walked out of the room, up the long flight of stairs and into the bedroom. The dark oak panelling on the walls made them close in around her until she could barely breathe and she felt like a prisoner. The humiliations would never be over; she would have to endure this for the rest of her life. Lottie, who was known for her demure placid character, picked up a bottle of perfume and flung it with all her strength at the wall opposite. It shattered, leaving behind jagged fragments of glass and an overpowering flowery smell.
Lottie looked in horror at what she had done and sank to the floor, a hand over her mouth so the servants would not hear her sobs.
* * *
Amelia lay in bed thinking of the ball the previous night and of meeting Mr Wrackley. Just remembering the warm expression in his eyes made her want to dance round the room. Surely this was it? This was what love felt like?
She had never thought much about the subject before. Her own parents had had an arranged marriage and while they clearly had a fondness and respect for each other, she did not believe they had ever been in love. She had expected such a practical arrangement to suit her but now it seemed inadequate, sad, even. Would it not be wonderful to spend a lifetime with someone who could make her feel so happy?
She frowned then as she thought of Lottie, understanding for the first time some part of what Lottie had felt she had with Saverney. To feel like this then lose the man she loved - it must have been almost unbearable. And Lottie was the very last person to deserve to be treated that way. She was recovering, though. She had been far more like her old self last night, dancing and smiling.
The attention of Mr Brightford’s cousins to Lottie had been particularly good for her and Amelia thought with gratitude and liking of the men. This thought led back to Mr Wrackley and she wondered when she would see him again. Perhaps in a few days. Perhaps today.
She jumped out of bed and ran across the room to her wardrobe.
By the time Walker arrived with her breakfast, Amelia had scattered half her clothes around the room.
“Walker, which dress makes me look the prettiest? No, not just pretty but beautiful?”
* * *
Benjamin had left the house early for a ride in the park and, having been waylaid
by an old acquaintance, had missed the hour when the family sat down to breakfast. It was not obligatory, he told himself as he handed Caesar over to the head groom, pausing briefly to stroke the horse’s soft nose.
The house was ominously silent when he entered it but he paid no heed, still in a euphoric mood after meeting Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge last night. He knew he should be cautious, that his tendres had caused nothing but trouble so far, but just the thought of seeing him and talking to him again made Benjamin happy. He ate a solitary breakfast then ran upstairs to check on his sister. She had been brighter the last few days and had been in excellent spirits after last night’s ball. Since he had no particular plans for the day he thought she might wish him to act as her escort on a trip to some of the local shops. The city was changing constantly at the moment with the various additions to the New Town, of which their own house was a part. He understood that a new milliners shop had opened that might interest Lottie.
He knocked on his sister’s door and, since it was ajar, pushed it open. Lottie turned in her seat at the dressing table. One look at her face brought all his concerns back again. “What has happened?”
In a voice bleached of emotion, she said, “Mr Saverney has returned to Edinburgh with his new wife.”
For a moment he refused to believe his own ears. “Damn the man.”
Lottie rubbed her face with her hands, expression so defeated that it hurt him to see. The gossip had begun to lessen. I tried to be brave…”
“… You have been very brave, my dear. I know our parents have been proud of how well you handled the situation.”
“But now I am back at the starting point. The gossip will begin again worse than ever and every time I leave the house I will also face the fear of seeing him again and experiencing even worse pain and humiliation.” Tears ran down her pale cheeks. “I do not know if I can go through it all again. Oh, why could he not have stayed away?”
He sat with her as she cried but had rarely felt so useless. She refused to leave her room, pleading a headache, but insisted he continue with his day, saying she would be better later. It was a claim he doubted. He did not know how to contain his fury but then he realised, with savage pleasure, that he did not need to. As he strode out of the house he knew exactly where to vent his anger.
* * *
Amelia’s family carriage came to a halt and she got out to wait for her mother. They were going to look at fabrics for making into a couple of new outfits for Amelia. While it was always highly pleasing to have new clothes, the reminder that the season during which she had expected to be married was halfway over was a disturbing one.
Her gaze lifted instinctively to Edinburgh Castle high above, admiring its elegance and splendour. What must it be like to live in such a place, to have the best clothes, the best of everything, more wealth than could be spent in a lifetime, being envied by everyone..?
She started when a masculine voice spoke her name. Unused to being so addressed in public by gentlemen, she looked around, ready to put the man in his place, then her breath caught at the sight of Mr Wrackley. He and Mr Brightford - whom she belatedly also noticed - bowed to her and she curtsied, noting as she did so that Mr Wrackley looked even more dashing in the daylight. His boots and buckskin breaches clung to his legs in a manner she felt almost too embarrassed to observe; just visible beneath his dark tailcoat were his shirt and waistcoat while his neckcloth was tied in an elaborate fashionable knot. He carried his hat and gloves in one hand while the other rested on his watch fob. His dark hair and eyes were all the more striking in the sunshine and his high cheekbones and full lips convinced her he must be the most handsome man in the country.
She wished her own walking dress was more brightly coloured, but as she was an unmarried woman it was plain cream. At least the embroidery on her shawl and the ribbons on her straw hat were a bright blue which matched her eyes. That must surely look fairly pleasing?
“How delightful to see you again so soon, Miss Daventry,” Mr Wrackley said, with an admiring expression. We are just meeting Mr Brightford’s cousins for luncheon.”
“We are in fact due now,” Mr Brightford pointed out with his usual lack of charm and manners.
Amelia ignored him but could not fail to respond to her mother’s shockingly badly timed arrival when the men turned to bow to her.
“We keep meeting just to immediately part,” Amelia said to Mr Wrackley. “I hope our next encounter will allow us a longer conversation.”
“And a dance,” he agreed, smiling. “You promised me a cotillian.”
He had remembered their exact conversation, she noted, delighted. “I have not forgotten.”
He and Mr Brightford left and she turned at once to her mother: “Is my hat on straight? Do I look well?”
“You look lovely,” Mrs Daventry reassured her with an amused expression.
“I should have asked which balls he would be attending.”
“That would have been forward.” Her mother got into the carriage and Amelia followed her. “In any case, as a friend of Mr Brightford, Mr Wrackley will no doubt attend many of the same events as us.”
“Yes,” Amelia breathed, thinking: how wonderful.
* * *
Benjamin pounded on the door and, when it opened, pushed past the elderly butler, saying, “Where is that rat Saverney?”
The man gave an instinctive glance at one of the internal doors. “Sir, you cannot…”
Benjamin strode to the door and flung it open. Saverney was seated inside with two women whom Benjamin ignored. Saverney jumped up in a nervous manner. “Harrington…”
“It does not surprise me, sir, that you have the nerve and cruelty to return here, but I am surprised you have the stupidity to do so.” He pulled off a glove and flung it at Saverney’s feet. “I demand satisfaction for your despicable behaviour.”
The women - Saverney’s mother and also, presumably, his bride - had risen and protested this in alarmed voices. Once again he ignored them, focused solely on the man in front of him. “Will you accept my challenge or cry off and prove yourself an utter coward in front of your family?”
“Surely we can discuss the matter?” Saverney said, eyes darting to the glove then back to Benjamin’s face.
“It is far too late for that. You have behaved like the worst kind of scoundrel to my sister. Accept my challenge or leave Edinburgh immediately, publicly branded a coward.”
Saverney bent down and picked up the glove, his reluctance showing in every movement.
Benjamin nodded in satisfaction then turned and stalked out.
Chapter Seven
MR BRIGHTFORD frowned at the letter, mind reeling. It was a rash move but he could not blame Harrington.
“Is everything all right, Jolly?” Alex asked, he, Nathan and Wrackley pausing in their breakfasts to look at him.
“I have just received a letter from Mr Benjamin Harrington asking me to be his second in a duel.” He explained what had occurred with Mr Saverney and that the man had now re-emerged.
“Poor Miss Harrington,” Alex said, frowning. “To have to worry about her brother on top of such a distressing situation.”
“It is Mr Harrington I am concerned about,” Nathan exclaimed. “He could die. Jolly, is he a good shot? Is Saverney?”
Brightford considered this. Duels were not common these days but he did not believe Harrington would falter. “I have never seen Mr Saverney shoot but Harrington has a good eye.”
“You must give him some pointers,” Nathan said. “You are the best shot I know. I suppose he cannot be dissuaded from this course of action? An apology to the family by Mr Saverney?”
“Saverney’s very presence inflames the situation, particularly with his new bride in tow. An apology six weeks ago might have been good enough but I doubt it would do any good now. Harrington is a good fellow, but hot-tempered. He will not change his mind. Indeed, had my sister ever been treated in such a manner I would have reacted in just the same way.�
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“You should go to see him immediately,” Nathan insisted and, in spite of the seriousness of the situation, Brightford could not help an inward smile. Harrington had certainly made a favourable impression on his cousin.
* * *
Lottie grabbed Amelia’s hands, eyes wide with alarm. “You will never believe it. Benjy has challenged Mr Saverney to a duel.”
“Excellent.” Amelia exclaimed, proud and not in the least surprised at Mr Harrington’s action. At least someone was finally doing something to put that hateful man in his place.
Lottie dropped her hands and looked at her with an expression of anger Amelia had never seen before on her face. “How can you say such a thing? Benjy could die.”
“Nonsense,” Amelia retorted. “Mr Saverney is already entirely in the wrong. He would be a fool to make his situation any worse by harming Benjamin.”
“He will hardly be thinking so rationally. They will both have guns. Anything could happen.”
She paced up and down until Amelia caught her arm and led her to a chair, she herself sitting on the bed opposite her friend, a small part of her mind wondering why the room smelt quite so strongly of perfume.
“I am sure your brother will be fine…”
“If only he would see reason and cancel the duel. I begged him.”
“Lottie, he is doing this to avenge the wrong Mr Saverney has done to you, because he loves you. If I were a man it is exactly what I would do….”
Lottie managed a smile at this.
“… And I sincerely hope that Mr Saverney suffers an extremely unpleasant injury.”
Lottie hesitated then said, “Nothing fatal.”
“No, no. Merely an arm or leg or shoulder injury. Their seconds will ensure nothing more serious occurs. Who has Benjamin chosen as his second?”
“Mr Brightford.”
