by Clare Jayne
Chapter Twenty-Eight
IT HAD BEEN nearly two months since he had last laid eyes on Miss Daventry. She had apparently not been at home when he called on her in Edinburgh - something he was not certain he believed. After that she, her mother and Mrs Gallerton had vanished to their country estate and there had been no word or sign of them since.
It was enough to drive a man mad. He paced up and down his library until a tentative knock upon the door distracted him.
“Yes?”
His Tiger stepped through the door, with an expression that said he expected to be killed on the spot for coming inside the house.
“You have news?” Brightford asked, all his focus upon the fidgeting boy.
“She’s back, sir. Miss Daventry. The whole family, I mean. Their carriage is there and one of the maids confirmed it.”
At last! Brightford thanked the boy and strode upstairs to change into a more suitable outfit for calling upon a young lady. Twenty minutes later he was being announced at Mrs Daventry’s home.
He stepped into the drawing room to the unpleasant sight of a room full of people.
“Brightford.”
“Alex?” He shook his cousin’s hand, the expression on Alex’s face that of a man entirely happy with his life. Well, that was excellent, but could not Alex have given him a chance to be similarly content before reappearing?
He belatedly bowed to the ladies present, tearing his gaze from Miss Daventry to respectfully acknowledge the others. Good lord, was that vivacious, stylish woman Miss Harrington? Or rather, Mrs Fenbridge. No wonder Alex was beaming all over the place.
There could be no hope of speaking privately to Miss Daventry now so he reluctantly exerted himself to be charming. He feigned interest in the sights seen in London during the honeymoon while Miss Daventry spoke only to Mrs Fenbridge.
Just as it felt as if the situation could get no worse the butler stepped into the room: “Mr Wrackley,” he announced.
* * *
Amelia closed the bedroom door behind her so she and Lottie could have some privacy.
“Oh, you look so lovely,” she said, taking in Lottie’s extravagant travelling outfit and feathered hat. “Have you bought a lot of clothes?”
Lottie laughed. “I have. I would have been content with a couple of outfits but Mr Fenbridge insisted that I have an entirely new wardrobe provided by the best modiste in London.”
Amelia sighed in delight.
“Oh, it is not that that matters. He has been so kind and wonderful. I am happier than I have ever been in my life.”
“You love him,” Amelia realised. How had Lottie fallen in love after getting married? Would that happen to her if she accepted Mr Wrackley? Was she worrying about what to do unnecessarily?
“I do,” Lottie was saying, leaning back in the chair, sophisticated and radiant. “I did not understand what love really was until I met Alex. And what of you? How many gentlemen have asked you to marry them?”
“Just Mr Wrackley,” she confessed.
“So you have turned him down?”
“Not yet. He is a good man but I do not love him. Do you think that could be enough?”
Lottie frowned. “What of Mr Brightford? I thought your true feelings were for him?”
“That is immaterial. I do not believe he ever intended to propose to me.”
“Then how dare he pay court to you the entire time he was at our estate. What was he thinking?”
Amelia swallowed, the subject still almost too painful to contemplate. “I suppose he was bored and wanted a brief dalliance.”
“It is unbelievable.” Lottie shook her head. “Are you absolutely certain of this?”
“I know that he wrote to Mr Wrackley to convince him to resume his courtship. Could he possibly have done that if he wanted to marry me himself?”
“I think you will have to tell me exactly what both men have said to you,” Lottie responded.
If anyone could help her resolve this it was Lottie. So Amelia made herself comfortable on her chair and did exactly that, explaining all that had been said and her own feelings and conclusions on the matter. Then she turned to her friend for a solution.
“You must confront Mr Brightford,” said the woman who resembled Amelia’s old friend Lottie but sounded far more confident. “Either he did wish to marry you and botched everything in the worst way imaginable or he did not, in which case I think it would be entirely reasonable for you to slap him again. Hard.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“I HAVE NEVER seen you looking so well,” Brightford told his cousin as they began a game of billiards. Alex and Mrs Fenbridge were staying with her parents for a few weeks after their honeymoon, catching up with friends and family; some of their family, anyway, as apparently Nathan and Harrington were thoroughly settled at Alex’s estate and keeping everything running efficiently there.
“Marrying Lottie is the best thing I did in my life,” Alex said. “She is perfect.”
Brightford wondered what it said about his character that perfection sounded a little dull to him. But then all ladies seemed dull in comparison to Miss Daventry. Even her mourning clothes could not diminish her beauty and she seemed more composed than she had at Alex’s estate, perhaps now beginning to put her grief behind her. He recalled the frivolous girl she had been last year and thought she had matured into a strong-willed, kind, intelligent woman. Now would be the perfect time to ask her to marry him – if only she did not hate him so much.
Alex took his shot and the balls scattered across the table. “I gather you do not wish to marry Miss Daventry after all,” he observed with a note of criticism in his tone.
“What makes you suppose that?” Brightford demanded. “I could not get near her. She has been away in the country this entire time.”
“That does not seem to have stopped Wrackley.”
Brightford lowered his billiards cue. “What do you mean?”
“Apparently he proposed to Miss Daventry some while ago and has an interview with her tomorrow morning to hear her reply.”
Brightford put down his cue and headed for the door. “Forgive me for deserting you, Alex, but I can’t lose her now.”
He ordered his carriage to be brought to the front of the house, keen to leave. He could be happy with no one but Miss Daventry and he had to resolve whatever had gone wrong between them.
* * *
Amelia had been enjoying a good morning until Mr Brightford arrived. Having spent her stay in the country wondering if they would have to sell the estate, she and her mother had returned here to be told by their man of business that her father had made an investment he had not known about, which meant they were far better off than they had thought. They were still far from wealthy but they could manage on the money now.
She and her mother had only just returned from this meeting when Mr Brightford had appeared, clearly in a bad mood, and asked with the barest of civility if she would accompany him on a drive around the park. She had been tempted to say no but was too curious as to his reason. Besides, she had thought of him a good deal while she was away and it was pleasant to once again see his face even if he was scowling… Why was he scowling at her when he was the one who was in the wrong?
“I understand that Mr Wrackley is to see you tomorrow to get an answer to his proposal. I was not even aware he had asked.”
The hateful man spoke accusingly as if she were the one who had behaved cruelly, not he. Indeed, it was almost enough to convince her to accept Mr Wrackley. At least that gentleman could behave in a courteous manner. He had accepted without complaint that she did not feel able to answer his proposal until she returned to Edinburgh from the country and his devotion was all that a woman could wish for. If only her emotions were not just as muddled as they had been two months ago. And the cause of that confusion dared to sit there demanding answers.
“I am not aware that the matter could possibly be considered your business,” she informed him in her
most quelling tone.
He glared at her. “You astonish me, madam.”
She returned his glare, more furious by the second. “Since you have not made me any offer yourself and I am given to understand that you have no intention of doing so…”
“What are you saying?” His shock changed her emotions in an instant, hope coursing through her. “If I had had the opportunity to do so, of course I would have made you an offer. How could you possibly doubt it?”
Amelia’s knees went weak and it was fortunate that she was sitting down in the carriage. Unaccountably, she had an inconvenient desire to burst into tears. She took a deep breath and spoke as calmly as she was able. “I was informed that you had encouraged Mr Wrackley’s courtship of me.”
“Well, yes, I did.”
She gasped. “Then your behaviour, sir, is utterly incomprehensible!”
“Not in the least,” he responded in a stiff manner. “It was my fault that he did not make you an offer when he first visited Edinburgh. Since my opinion about you then was wrong, my honour demanded that I inform him of the fact.”
“Your honour? What of your duty not to make me utterly miserable? And how calmly you speak of having thought me cold-hearted and mercenary as if it were the tiniest of mistakes.”
“The failure was not all mine,” he objected. “If your behaviour had been more demure…”
From between gritted teeth she managed to demand, “Take me home now!”
He did so, neither of them saying a word to each other during the journey. Finally, as he handed her down from the carriage, he said, “My words did not come out as I intended…”
“Indeed?” she queried sweetly. “Perhaps you should take lessons from Mr Wrackley: I have always found him to be most eloquent. Should you see him today pray do inform him of how much I look forward to our conversation tomorrow. Good day, sir.”
She marched up to her door which their butler opened instantly. Ignoring Mrs Gallerton’s voice coming from the drawing room Amelia ran up to her room and shut her door behind her, flinging herself down on her bed.
How dare he criticise her for not being demure?
She sat up and put a hand over her mouth as the more important fact sank in.
He had always meant to ask her to marry him.
Chapter Thirty
“I AM SO glad that you are back to help me sort out the disastrous mess of my life.”
Lottie smiled at the melodramatic statement, although she did not blame Amelia in the least for feeling like this given what she had just revealed about Mr Brightford. They were sitting in the sewing room with the rain beating against the window and the fragrance of cooking bread wafting in from the kitchen. It was almost like old times, except that Lottie was not the timid creature she used to be. In the whole time they had known each other Alex had never once criticised her; on the contrary, they were in agreement on every subject and he complimented her on everything she did. His love gave her the confidence to speak her mind and to take pleasure in every part of her life.
“At least now you know that he was genuinely courting you,” she said.
Amelia grimaced. “And was apparently so confident of himself that he threw a rival at me for his own amusement.”
“I am sure that was not the case,” Lottie said, “although Mr Brightford’s idea of behaving honourably is rather vexing.”
“And his feelings clearly change from one moment to the next,” Amelia exclaimed, still clearly furious from her conversation with the gentleman in question earlier today. “A few months ago he apparently hated me.”
“A few months ago you also loathed him.”
“That is not… Very well, that is pertinent, but must he be so tactless? Has he no idea at all of how to conduct a courtship?”
“Apparently not.”
“Well, I am still tempted to marry Mr Wrackley just to pay Mr Brightford back for his unchivalrous behaviour.”
“I believe that if you did so you would be injuring yourself as much as him.”
“Oh, I do not mean it,” Amelia relented, “but I regret that I have given Mr Wrackley hope all this time when I must now find a way to turn him down. I believe he also loves me.”
“I am certain of it, although he too has not always acted as he should.”
“Which is also Mr Brightford’s fault.”
Lottie saw the annoyance simmering again in Amelia’s expression and was heartily glad that her own relationship with Mr Fenbridge was free from such a tempestuous side. She was beginning to wonder if Amelia and Mr Brightford’s relationship would ever reach a happy conclusion. Perhaps it would have been better for them both to have never formed a tendre.
“How is your mother?”
Amelia brightened and smiled. “She has been much more her old self ever since we visited you for your wedding. She still misses Papa, of course, but I believe we are both moving forward with our lives now. Have you seen anything of your brother?”
“We returned home for a week before coming to see you. I believe Benjy is nearly as happy with Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge as I am with Alex. They are very much in love.”
“That is wonderful.”
“It is and good luck, like bad, is supposed to run in threes,” Lottie insisted, determined her friend should find happiness. “It is now your turn.”
Chapter Thirty-One
MR WRACKLEY is paying a call on you this morning, is he not?” Mrs Daventry said over breakfast, although she could hardly have been in any doubt over the matter.
Mrs Gallerton was, thankfully, not awake at this hour to join them and to put forward her own many opinions on the subject. Amelia could imagine just what she would say in any case. Amelia was worried about speaking to Mr Wrackley and hurting his feelings and also concerned that her mother would not understand why she was doing this.
She composed herself for a moment then said, “I intend to turn him down, Mama.”
“I thought as much.” Mrs Daventry gave a calm nod and went back to her breakfast.
Amelia closed her mouth on the long explanation she had intended to give in defence of her actions and hoped that Mr Wrackley would take the news so well.
* * *
Mr Brightford took the fob watch from his pocket and examined the time for around the thirtieth occasion this morning. By now Mr Wrackley would probably be speaking to Miss Daventry and he had no idea what her answer would be to him. Why had he sent Wrackley that blasted letter encouraging him to resume his courtship? How could he have behaved with such stupidity?
And if only he had known that Miss Daventry thought he did not mean to propose he could have denied this error and got in his own proposal by now.
And why was it that he could never have a conversation with her that did not result in the two of them losing their tempers with each other? It had become the most annoying and counter-productive of habits. If it had not somehow happened yesterday he could still have made her an offer.
At least she now knew he intended to do so. Surely that would make a difference to her decision?
He took his watch once more from his pocket and stared at it.
* * *
“It greatly distresses me to have to cause you pain but I cannot marry you,” Amelia told Mr Wrackley as they stood in the drawing room. “I like you a great deal but my feelings are no stronger than that.”
“They might grow with time,” he said, still holding her hand.
Having seen Lottie’s happiness with Mr Alexander Fenbridge, she believed that what he was saying was possible. It might well have convinced her to marry him were her heart not already lost to the most exasperating man in the world.
She squeezed his hand, letting her regret show, then drew away. “I am so sorry, but my answer is no.”
* * *
Mr Brightford grabbed a book from the shelves of his library when he heard the knock upon his front door. He threw himself down into a chair and looked down at the book, then hastily turned it the righ
t way round, just as his cousin entered the room.
“Mrs Fenbridge and I happened to run into Wrackley on our way back from the park,” Alex said, taking a seat opposite.
Brightford’s hands clenched around the book. “Oh?”
Alex’s mouth twitched. “We offered him our commiserations.”
“Indeed.” Brightford let out a shaky breath and resisted the urge to give a cheer at this news.
“I will leave you to your reading.” Alex got up and headed for the door, glancing back from the doorway. “A lady like that will not be without suitors for long. For goodness’ sakes, stop dithering and offer for her.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“IS SHE GOING to be there tonight?” Brightford asked when Alex walked into the library. A dinner party had never before interested him so much.
Alex shrugged. “My wife will not tell me. It seems she believes you have ill-treated her friend and deserve no assistance in putting matters right.”
“But I must go out of town for a day or two tomorrow on an urgent matter for my estate. If I do not see Miss Daventry tonight I might not see her for several days and by then she might be too vexed to speak to me.”
“That makes things difficult,” Alex agreed with an utter lack of concern.
“Could you not convince your wife..?”
“No.” Alex got to his feet and patted Brightford’s shoulder. “I am sure you will be able to sort matters out on your own. Despite past proof to the contrary.”
Brightford gave his cousin a thin smile – so much for getting any assistance from him.
* * *
“I wish I could wear some colour of dress other than black to the dinner party tonight,” Amelia told Lottie as she admired the evening gown her friend intended to wear. “I am, of course, still grieving Papa - indeed I think I always shall - but I do not see why I have to look ugly while doing so.”
