by Clare Jayne
He was acutely aware that he had put his life in Nathan’s hands. There was nothing else left for him.
* * *
“If Mr Wrackley returns do you want to speak to him?” Lottie asked as Amelia admired her wedding dress.
Amelia ran her hand gently over silk covered in finely embroidered lace. “I do not know. Probably not. There seems nothing left to say.”
“You thought you loved him before. If he has decided he really does love you in spite of what Mr Brightford said, do you not want to see him so you can test how you feel now?”
“It might be sensible,” Amelia conceded with reluctance. She had made a fool of herself before, assuming the mutual interest between her and Mr Wrackley would lead to marriage. Also, her new feelings for Mr Brightford complicated everything and she believed them to be stronger than anything she felt for Mr Wrackley, but unless she saw Mr Wrackley again she could not be certain her feelings for him were gone. Of course, he might not even want to court her - he might just want to apologise for his behaviour before or ask to be friends. “You are so lucky that you are about to marry. It is all far more difficult and less pleasant than I expected it to be. Oh, forgive me,” she said as she recalled the early part of the year. “You endured far worse treatment than I from Mr Saverney.”
“But that is long over,” Lottie said with a serene smile, “and does not cause me any pain. I am where I want to be with the man I want to marry. You are right that I am lucky. More than I have any right to be.”
“Now, that is nonsense,” Amelia said. “Mr Alexander Fenbridge is luckier than he has any right to be since he will be marrying the kindest, most honourable lady in the world. A life of happiness is exactly what you deserve.”
“I could not have been completely happy without my best friend here.”
“And I feel far better now I have you to talk to than I have since my father’s funeral. I fully intend to hold Mr Alexander Fenbridge to his offer and visit here often until you are both sick of the sight of me.”
Lottie laughed. “That is not a thought that worries me.”
* * *
“Your father has told me of your peculiar announcement to him regarding yourself and Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge.”
Benjamin regarded his mother as she sat embroidering in her room. “I thought he might.”
She threw a sharp look at him, the kind that had cowed him as a child. “Do not take that tone with me.”
“My apologies, Mother.”
“It would be better for you if you gave up this unpleasant behaviour now and returned to our town house.”
“I will not.”
“If not now, then in time I believe you will change your mind rather than be disinherited and cast out of the family. When that happens I will speak to your father on your behalf.”
She said this as if doing him a great favour but it was impossible. He was done with pretence. “I cannot marry. I do not have the necessary feelings towards women.”
“I do not know where you and your sister get such romantic ideas about relationships. There are plenty of acceptable marriages where the husband and wife feel nothing more than civility towards each other.”
Now that he knew how it felt to be loved the idea of such a heartless marriage repulsed him more than ever. “You would wish that on me rather than accept my current happiness?”
“It is what society accepts, so it is the only option open to you.”
“I am committed to Nathan Fenbridge. I will not give him up.”
“We will see.”
Benjamin left the interview with his mother feeling more shaken than he had after talking to his father. It hurt that neither of his parents cared enough to accept his relationship with Nathan.
Nathan was waiting for him in Benjamin’s bedroom and embraced him. “Did she react any better than your father?”
He gave a bitter laugh. “Hardly.” He frowned, abruptly nervous that he had a place in this house. “Are you certain your brother accepts our relationship?”
“Yes, of course.” Nathan rubbed his back. “What is wrong?”
“After the way my parents have reacted it seems impossible that other people could possibly allow us to live as we wish.”
“Alex has always accepted my feelings about men, Brightford too. Miss Harrington is on your side, is she not?”
Benjamin nodded. “Miss Daventry as well.”
“I know it must be difficult not having the support of your parents.”
“They never have been,” Benjamin realised. They were never able to accept the person he really was. To both of them it would be better if he was living a lie, married and miserable, than happy with a man he loved. “You are all I need, Alex.”
He kissed Nathan. The rest of the world could do as it liked as long as he had this man.
* * *
“Mr Wrackley,” the butler announced, showing the gentleman into the drawing room.
Mr Brightford instinctively glanced at Miss Daventry, waiting to see what her reaction would be. In this, he had no immediate answer as, after exchanging looks with Miss Harrington, her expression was unreadable.
Alex had got to his feet and greeted Wrackley, who bowed to the ladies and nodded to the men in a friendly fashion, including Brightford. If he blamed Brightford for what had happened in Edinburgh he gave no sign of it.
“It is a pleasure to see you all again,” Wrackley said with a smile at Miss Daventry, who glanced down at her tea. Brightford wished he knew what she was thinking. He could not help believing he had acted stupidly, as Nathan had said, in writing to Wrackley, but what else could he honourably have done? Both Wrackley and Miss Daventry deserved happiness. He just wished fervently that they would not find it with each other.
“You do not know all our guests,” Alex said to Wrackley. “Allow me to introduce Mrs Gallerton.”
This, of course, took some time then the conversation turned to the kind of meaningless small-talk Brightford loathed. He surreptitiously watched Wrackley and Miss Daventry. Wrackley kept glancing at her, trying to catch her eye, while she did not once look at him. Brightford tried not to derive too much hope from that. Certainly Miss Daventry would not give Wrackley an easy time after his desertion but he might still be able to win her over. Particularly if he reminded her that it was all Brightford’s fault that he had ever left.
“Would you take a walk with me outside?” Wrackley asked Miss Daventry. He added to her mother, “We will remain within sight of the house, of course.”
She hesitated and Brightford could not help hoping she would refuse. Instead, after receiving a nod from her mother, she smiled at Mr Wrackley and said, “Very well.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
AS SOON AS they left the drawing room, Amelia wished she had not agreed to accompany Mr Wrackley. She felt uncomfortable with him and angry about the way he had vanished without a word to her. However, her conversation with Lottie on the matter had convinced her she ought to hear what he wanted to say and then see how she felt about him. If she was supposed to do this then she was making a poor start as all she could think about was the uneasy expression she had seen on Mr Brightford’s face when they had left.
They walked out into the garden and Mr Wrackley at once turned to her. “Miss Daventry, I owe you the deepest of apologies and an explanation of my behaviour in Edinburgh.”
Not wanting to hear Mr Brightford’s disparaging words about her again, she hastily said, “I have been made aware that you heard ill of my character.”
“I should never have listened,” he said. “When we met I felt the greatest admiration for your character and beauty. I should have trusted my feelings instead of listening to… to anyone else.”
“In Edinburgh I liked your company a great deal but a lot has happened since then…”
“I heard about your father,” he interrupted, frowning. “I cannot bear to think that my behaviour made your grief after his death even more painful. I am so sorry.”
She c
ould tell he was speaking sincerely and was glad, after all, that she had heard him. However, her previous feelings for him still failed to reappear. “I accept your apology but, as I was saying, a lot has changed. I do not feel that I am the same person I was then and I do not wish to mislead you.”
“Then can we begin again as if we had just met?”
“Certainly,” she agreed with relief.
They returned to the drawing room where the curiosity on everyone’s faces that they were unable to express was almost comical. Amelia avoided looking at Mr Brightford, feeling guilty which was ridiculous. She had just talked to Mr Wrackley. Nothing more. Besides, she had no idea if Mr Brightford genuinely did have any interest in her; his expressions were so difficult to read.
The conversation continued for another half hour or so then the gentlemen headed outside to do some shooting.
Amelia and Lottie managed to escape from Mrs Gallerton and, the moment they were alone in Amelia’s room, Lottie asked, “What happened with Mr Wrackley?”
“He apologised and I accepted. We were both very polite…”
“Then your feelings for him are gone?”
Amelia was not sure how her saying they had been polite had conveyed her lack of interest in Mr Wrackley but since that was the truth she did not question it. Lottie knew her better than anyone. “I believe so. I still look at him and find him attractive but it does not touch my heart as it did before.”
“I think you should give yourself a bit of time,” Lottie said, sitting on the bed. “You are still grieving for your father and that is bound to affect your emotions.”
“I certainly feel muddle-headed.”
“Then put it from your mind for the moment. You have several weeks here to get to know both Mr Wrackley and Mr Brightford and see how you feel.”
“And how he- they feel.”
* * *
Mr Brightford cared nothing for her.
That was the opinion she had formed several days later. He had made no effort to seek out her company. If he did run into her he was polite but nothing more than that. Once again it seemed that she had made a fool of herself.
This humiliation was reduced by Mr Wrackley’s frequent presence. At least he thought highly of her, even if he had not consistently done so. But she could understand why he had put faith in the words of Mr Brightford, whom he had known for a great deal longer than he had known her, so she was willing to trust him again. Any fond feelings, however, failed to re-emerge.
“It is as if something inside me wants me to be miserable,” she told Lottie angrily as they walked along a path in the wood behind the house. “I want Mr Wrackley who then vanishes. Then I want Mr Brightford, who has never had the tiniest interest in me. Then Mr Wrackley is in my life again but I do not want him after all.”
“You cannot make decisions that will last the rest of your life after a few days,” Lottie insisted. “Forget about both of them for a while.”
“I cannot when they are both constantly right in front of me!”
* * *
Brightford had never been so vexed in his life.
He was trying to give Miss Daventry time alone with Wrackley but all his instincts were yelling at him to fight to win her for himself.
He had no idea how the courtship was progressing and could hardly ask either of its participants. Not that he wanted to know. Unless it was not progressing, which he would love to know.
“You look in a devil of a mood,” a voice told him and he glanced round to see Harrington approaching, for once alone.
“It is your Nathan’s fault for putting the idea in my head that I should court Miss Daventry.”
“Well, it would seem stupid not to when you are in love with her,” Harrington said easily, coming to lean his arms on the fence in front of them and watch the horses within.
“Then I suppose I am a fool,” he ground out. “It is a matter of honour.”
“Then she will probably spurn both of you and find someone else entirely.”
Brightford glared at him. “Do you not have somewhere else you need to be?”
Harrington shook his head, expression innocent save for an amused glint in his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I BELIEVE YOU have behaved like a cad, sir,” Wrackley told Brightford stiffly.
They were outside the house but there were enough grooms and other workers about that Brightford headed further away so they would not be overheard talking. Clearly he had been wrong when he believed that Wrackley held no ill-will towards him anymore, but being called a cad seemed an extreme reaction.
“I have apologised to both you and Miss Daventry for what I said to you…”
“I do not doubt that,” Wrackley interrupted, clearly wound up. “You could not have made your interest more plain.”
“My what?” They had neared a field containing several horses and one trotted up to the fence to look them over.
“Do not pretend with me, Brightford. You put me off Miss Daventry so you could court her yourself.”
“No, I did not,” he answered, stung that someone he had always considered a friend could believe him capable of such a thing. “I believed what I said at the time and only found out later that I had been wrong.”
“You cannot tell me that you do not have feelings for her?”
“No, I cannot, but I have done my best to keep my distance from her because you might have been engaged to her by now had I not interfered.”
“I see.” Wrackley looked uncomfortable. He bent down a picked a handful of grass which he held out to the sorrel mare. After a moment she approached and took it from him. “I apologise. I spoke like a fool.”
“Yes, well, you are in love. I believe acting like a fool is a requirement of the condition.”
Wrackley laughed and stroked the sorrel’s nose. “This is an awkward situation.”
“Not at all. I believe the lady is in love with you and you with her. It seems very simple.”
“I am not so sure of her feelings. Besides, I want Miss Daventry to want me alone. She cannot choose me if there is no choice.”
“I am not following you.”
“You should court her too and let her decide for herself who she wants. That way we will both know that the man she finally chooses is who she really wants.”
Brightford nodded. A fair fight was all he wanted. “Agreed.”
* * *
“Mr Wrackley will be an excellent husband for you,” Mrs Gallerton said in a satisfied tone as if she was somehow responsible for this interest.
Amelia exchanged a glance with her mother and said, “Mr Wrackley has not asked me to marry him and even if he did I am not certain I would accept.
“I thought you liked him,” her mother said, clearly having thought that Amelia was happy to be courted by Mr Wrackley.
Mrs Gallerton simultaneously made an annoyed sound which Amelia ignored, saying, “I do like him but I am not sure that that is enough.”
“It is an excellent match,” Mrs Gallerton insisted, adopting the firm tone that never failed to annoy Amelia, “and I know the state of your family’s finances. When he asks you must accept him.”
Amelia took a deep breath and said as calmly as she was able, “I believe that is my decision, Aunt.”
“If you turn him down then you will be responsible for your family’s ruin and do not expect me to support you both.”
“We expect nothing of the kind,” Mrs Daventry said to her. “If Amelia does not marry Mr Wrackley then we will manage. He is not the only man in the world and she is still a young girl.”
“Hmm.” Mrs Gallerton looked angrily from one to the other of them, her glare settling on Amelia. “If you are holding out for Mr Brightford then you are wasting your time. He clearly has no intention of being caught.”
Amelia put down her book and excused herself. She left the house and kept walking as fast as she could until she was out of breath and the house was the size of a toy behi
nd her. Even worse than her hopes being so transparent was the suspicion that Mrs Gallerton was correct.
Chapter Twenty-Four
AMELIA HAD slept badly the previous night and by the end of it was convinced that Mr Brightford had no interest in her at all. Therefore, to come down to breakfast and find him determined to sit at her side and converse solely with her was more confusing than pleasant, particularly when Mrs Gallerton kept glaring at her as if she were flirting outrageously with him rather than politely answering his inquiries.
“It is a shame that you will not be able to dance at the ball tonight,” he said, referring of course to the fact Amelia and her mother were in mourning. It was Mr Wrackley who was hosting the ball on his estate.
“Yes,” she agreed, aware that Mrs Gallerton was listening to every word with narrowed eyes. “However, I find that balls also give a good opportunity to converse with new people.”
“Only with new people?” he asked with mock concern.
“Indeed,” she said, equally lightly. “I will certainly not wish to talk to anyone I know.”
He laughed and Mrs Gallerton’s glower deepened. “Then I must make the most of the chance to speak with you while I am allowed.”
“Perhaps you might extend the conversation,” Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge suggested with a smile. “Harrington and I were just saying that today looks set to be a brief return to balmy weather before the autumn arrives. We thought that anyone who wishes might care to join us for a short walk followed by a picnic.”
The rest of the group, including Amelia, agreed to this.
* * *
“You do believe that Mr Brightford has serious intentions towards Amelia, do you not?” Lottie asked her fiancé as they left the house to join the others. “His interest does not always seem constant.”
“I believe he loves her but he has not spoken of it to me. I thought she preferred Mr Wrackley?”
“If he had not vanished from Edinburgh without a word then I am sure she would have accepted a proposal from him. When he left her father died and her life grew a lot more complicated. Mr Brightford was there when others, including myself, were not.”
