Complications

by Clare Jayne

  Lottie seemed in a far more cheerful mood when she left and Amelia wished with all her heart that Lottie might soon meet a good man who would make up for all this year’s disappointments.

  Amelia hoped she would see Mr Wrackley the next day - she could not bear the thought of any time apart from him.

  * * *

  The weather was ideal for the excursion. Benjamin and Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge had ridden at a good pace for several hours and now stopped, in a spot Benjamin recommended, to look down over the city and surrounding countryside while they ate the excellent picnic Mrs McInty had put together for them.

  The day was a hot one, the sunshine brightening the green of the long wild grass and the yellows and pinks of the gorse and wild flowers amongst it. They sat in the shade of an oak tree and Benjamin could not think that he had ever been more content.

  Mr Fenbridge sat on the grass on the far side of the picnic cloth with a glass of ale in his hand. “Was your sister glad to know that Mr Saverney is gone from the city?”

  “She was relieved and, once she has been able to talk it all over with Amelia - Miss Daventry, I mean - I believe she will be more like her old cheerful self.”

  “If I may ask an impertinent question, do you believe she still loves him?”

  “I should hope not,” he exclaimed then considered the question more seriously. “My sister does not easily talk of her feelings but I believe that Mr Saverney’s character has been revealed to such a disadvantage that she cannot still love him. Indeed I think she only ever loved the man he pretended to be.”

  “Then in time perhaps she will think she was lucky not to have married him?”

  “I am sure of it. It is more other people’s comments that are difficult for her at present. She is a gentle sensitive girl and nothing could be more painful to her than being at the centre of such unpleasant gossip, even though she is blameless in the matter. I can only be grateful she has Miss Daventry to help her through it - Amelia is better for her than any of her family.”

  “I am sure you underestimate yourself,” Fenbridge said quietly, eyes fixed on Benjamin’s face.

  “She knows I love her but I think I caused her more anguish than relief fighting that stupid duel. Amelia is like a sister to her - to both of us really - and she treats the gossip with the contempt it deserves.”

  “I saw the put-down she gave the lady who made a cruel comment to your sister at the last ball. She seemed a most loyal friend.”

  “The best.”

  “And what of you? Do you have many close friends?”

  Benjamin kept his gaze fixed on the view ahead of him. His heart told him to explain why he had lost his friends but his head said that all would be ruined if he did so. “I have many acquaintances but the men I used to think I could tell anything to… It turned out not to be the case. They found me… more complicated than they had thought and did not like the discovery.”

  “I believe we are all of us complicated. Perhaps younger men worry too much about being the same as their fellows.

  “I am the person I am. It is difficult to hide it.”

  Fenbridge gave a frown. “You should not have to hide anything, not at least from those close to you.”

  Benjamin turned to look at Fenbridge, the words of who he was on the tip of his tongue, but his courage failed him. “Shall we ride further out or head back?”

  * * *

  It was rare to see Mr Daventry at the private club as he was not a betting man. Although they were perfectly amiable acquaintances, it was even more rare for him to seek out Brightford himself.

  The two men greeted each other and ordered drinks as they exchanged pleasantries about mutual friends and the unusually long dry spell in the weather recently. Mr Daventry, never one for prevarication, then said, “I wonder if you could tell me about the character of Mr Wrackley. He has been showing an interest in my daughter, Amelia, and, since he is not a local man, I know nothing of him.”

  Brightford wondered, with a touch of guilt, if Wrackley’s interest would be as strong after his own warning about Miss Daventry. He told himself he would have been a poor friend if he had not spoken. If Wrackley was actually in love with her then he would likely still pursue her, regardless of what anyone else said. If not then it was better all round for him to back away. At least, that was what he told himself. “Mr Wrackley is an excellent man, sensible and good-natured. He is not a great gambler and his behaviour with women of every class is gentlemanly.”

  “I am delighted to hear that, sir,” Huntly said with a nod. “Thank you for speaking to me so frankly on the matter.”

  Brightford did not feel he was owed any gratitude from Huntly; quite the contrary. He abruptly wished he had never spoken to Wrackley about Miss Daventry but surely Wrackley would not take his words too much to heart?

  Chapter Ten

  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 condesc
ending 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.”

  Brightford stared at Nathan in shock.

  “It is your turn,” Alex reminded him and Brightford picked up and card and threw it down again without so much as looking at it.

  This was a side to Miss Daventry he had never imagined and, now that he thought about it, he could recall instances of her defending or being protective of Miss Harrington. Could he have misjudged Miss Daventry?