by Clare Jayne
“You could not possibly look ugly and I doubt Mr Brightford will care what you are wearing.”
“You have still not told him I will be there?”
“Of course not.”
“Good.” Amelia ran her hand lightly over the blue silk gown. “Mr Alexander Fenbridge will certainly find you lovely wearing this.”
Lottie smiled. “Alex tells me I am lovely even if I am dressed in my oldest clothes.”
“Why would you possibly wear your old outfits when you have beautiful new ones?” She caught Lottie’s sigh and belatedly added, “but that is most affectionate and romantic of him.”
“One day Mr Brightford will shock you by managing to say something romantic.”
“If he did it would probably be when I had just taken a sip of wine and I would cough and splutter all over him. I doubt we will ever manage a conversation where we do not disagree over something and quarrel.”
“Does that not alarm you?” Lottie asked with a worried expression.
Amelia thought about it. She could see her friend’s point but then Amelia had never been one to enjoy a quiet existence. She was happier arguing with Mr Brightford than she was being paid compliments by any other man. “As long as he managed to kiss me between quarrels I believe I would be content.”
* * *
Mr Brightford tried to be polite to his hostess and her daughter while keeping one eye upon the door of the drawing room. When Amelia arrived with her mother and aunt he grinned with relief, somewhat startling the two ladies he was talking to. He excused himself the moment she paused in greeting people to fetch a glass of lemonade and walked over to her.
“I am delighted to see you here tonight.”
“Congratulations,” Amelia said to him brightly. “That is the best first line you have said to me since we met.”
“Er, thank you. I wanted to say…”
“Ah, Miss Daventry,” their hostess, Mrs Henton said, stepping between them, “I must introduce Lord Connell to you and your mother. He is new to Edinburgh…”
Mrs Henton continued talking as she led Miss Daventry away.
Alex strolled over to him. “How did your conversation with Miss Daventry go?”
“Conversation? I barely managed to say two words to her before we were interrupted.”
Alex sighed and shook his head. “You must do better than that.”
Brightford glowered at him. “Should you not be inflicting your company upon your wife?”
Alex turned to look at that lady, his expression melting into a smile. “Just so.” He wandered off towards her.
Brightford made a mental note that if he died before managing to wed Miss Daventry he must leave all his worldly possessions to his far more likeable and deserving cousin, Nathan.
He kept an eye on the young lady and when he saw that Miss Daventry was finally alone he hurried across the room to her. “I will speak quickly before Mrs Henton finds us again…”
A butler appeared in the doorway and announced dinner.
Brightford fought not to swear aloud.
“Perhaps you should speak concisely too,” Miss Daventry suggested as the people began to rearrange themselves into couples by rank for the formal procession down to the dining room.
“Indeed,” he said and did so, “I have to leave the city tomorrow on estate business but should not be gone more than two days at most. On my return may I request a private interview with you?”
Miss Daventry’s escort appeared to lead her in to dinner and Brightford was forced to find the lady he must walk with ahead of Miss Daventry. They reached the table where Miss Daventry’s seat proved to be on the far opposite side to his. He watched desperately as she took a seat, then she looked up and caught his eye.
She nodded.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“MISS DAVENTRY, there is a gentleman who is requesting to speak to you alone,” the butler said in a disapproving tone.
Amelia’s heart leapt: Mr Brightford must have managed to conclude his business more quickly than he had expected. She threw down her embroidery, jumped up and headed to the door.
Before she could escape Mrs Gallerton objected: “Who is this gentleman? It should be for your mother to decide whether you may speak to him unchaperoned.”
“I am certain Mr Brightford’s request is not in any way improper.” She attempted to leave but it was the butler who, to her surprise, stopped her this time by clearing his throat in a meaningful manner. “Yes, Williams?”
“My apologies for not speaking more clearly, Miss. The gentleman waiting in the drawing room is the Duke of Elborough.”
Amelia glanced downwards as she composed her expression to hide her disappointment and surprise. She hoped her mother and aunt would not pounce on the fact that Amelia had expected to be requested to have a private audience with Mr Brightford.
“Who is the Duke of Elborough?” Mrs Gallerton asked, clearly impressed by the title.
“A gentleman I am quite sure I do not want Amelia speaking to alone,” Mrs Daventry said.
Amelia grimaced. “I hardly wish it either but I do not see that we can get rid of him otherwise.”
“Will one of you tell me who this man is?” her aunt insisted.
“The Duke tried to make Amelia an offer last year but her father said she was too young. He is widely regarded as dangerous and cruel.”
Williams looked with uncertainty at the ladies and Amelia made the decision for herself. “Thank you, Williams. If the Duke wishes to speak to me then of course I will see him. Mama, I believe you will require my company in about five minutes?”
“Quite right, dear,” Mrs Daventry said, “and do not allow him to intimidate you.”
Amelia nodded and walked into the drawing room, hoping that the matter was not what she feared, although she could not imagine what else he could want to speak to her about privately. The Duke bowed to her, the smile he wore doing nothing to improve his ill-favoured features.
“Good morning, sir. You must understand that my mother does not allow me to speak to gentlemen unchaperoned except in the most exceptional circumstances.”
“Naturally,” he agreed, “but I believe she could have no objection to what I wish to say to you.”
Amelia suspected that he could not be more wrong in this belief. “Then would you have a seat, Your Grace?”
He gestured for her to sit first and, when she had done so, he followed suit. “Miss Daventry, I have admired you since your coming out last year. Your beauty, innocence and grace are beyond compare, although I fear I am not the kind of loquacious gentleman who can speak poetically on such matters…”
Thank goodness! She tried to get in a word but he was off again before she could manage it.
“… I trust you will think no less of me for speaking plainly. I wish you to do me the honour of marrying me. It will allow you to take your place at the head of society as you deserve and I will be a generous husband…”
He was certainly not lacking in confidence, behaving as if her acceptance of him was a foregone conclusion. “Your Grace, I am rendered almost speechless by this offer from such an important member of society as yourself. However, I regret that I must turn you down.”
He stared at her as if he could not understand her words. “If it is a matter of obtaining your mother’s permission to marry you…”
“No, sir, it is not. I fear I cannot marry a man I do not love.”
His expression grew darker and she felt uneasy. “Perhaps you are too young to understand the honour I do you in making this offer.”
“Not at all. I am highly flattered, but I fear that does not change my answer.”
He bowed to her and swept out of the room without another word.
Amelia gave a shaky sigh. Thank goodness she would never have to speak to him again.
* * *
“You should not have had to see him on your own,” Lottie said, shuddering.
“He was a little alarming,” Amelia
admitted, “but he is still a gentleman. I should think myself exceedingly feeble if I could not turn down a man’s offer of marriage without support.”
“He is such an unpleasant man…”
“But a wealthy and important one,” Amelia said, clearly trying for a lighter tone. “It does my sense of consequence great good to know I have turned down such a distinguished person.”
Lottie gave a reluctant laugh. “At least the matter is out of the way now.”
“Indeed.”
Before they could continue the conversation a butler came into the drawing room and announced dinner. She and Amelia joined Mrs Daventry and Mrs Gallerton in the dining room.
“Your husband is not joining us?” Mrs Gallerton queried.
“No, there was a talk at the university that he wished to attend.”
“I hope your husband is not one of those intellectuals one hears about.”
Lottie saw Amelia bite back laughter as many of Edinburgh’s titled gentlemen were fellows at Edinburgh University. “Not at all. He simply takes an interest in matters of politics and society.”
“Does he have a seat at the House of Lords?”
“No.”
“Hmm.” Mrs Gallerton looked dissatisfied. “I suppose you have heard that Amelia has turned down yet another offer of marriage?”
“Aunt!” Amelia exclaimed.
“Mrs Gallerton, that remark was uncalled for,” Mrs Daventry said. “I explained to you what kind of man the Duke of Elborough is.”
“Yes, yes, I intended no criticism.”
Lottie was beginning to suspect that the woman said little that was not meant as criticism.
“The fact is that Amelia has not made the impression upon Edinburgh society that one might have wished,” Mrs Gallerton said, continuing before the subject of these words could object, “so I intend to give her a second chance in a larger pond.”
Lottie saw her own confusion mirrored on the face of her friend and that of Mrs Daventry.
“I wish to take Amelia to London and launch her into the very best society in the world. I do not doubt that she will immediately gain admirers there and perhaps she will finally agree to marry one of them.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“DO NOT overwhelm me with gratitude,” Mrs Gallerton said at the prolonged silence that followed her suggestion.
“Forgive me for not expressing my appreciation immediately. I know the money and work involved in a coming out in London and never expected such immense generosity,” Amelia said. Her aunt looked mollified and pleased with this answer, giving Amelia a chance to consider what to do. She could hardly say that she had every intention of going to London with Mr Brightford and had no need of a coming out ball. She could suggest that she believed he was about to ask her to marry him but she had been wrong before and had been humiliated when she told Lottie and her family that Mr Wrackley was about to propose, then he did not do so, or at least not for several months. She did not doubt Mr Brightford - not exactly - but he might still change his mind or be delayed in asking or any number of things.
No, the only thing she could do was prepare to go to London and hope Mr Brightford truly did love her and would propose before she had to go.
“Where would we stay in London, aunt?”
* * *
Lottie and her husband had luncheon with Mr Brightford the next day.
“It will be pleasant to get home again,” Mr Alexander Fenbridge said to his cousin. “We have decided to leave at the end of the week.”
“It is a shame that Amelia will be leaving so soon and will not be free to stay with us,” Lottie commented to her husband, ignoring the sharp glance from Mr Brightford, then addressing him, “Perhaps you would care to stay with us instead, sir. I am sure Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge and my brother would be happy to see you.”
“Where is Miss Daventry going?” Mr Brightford demanded, uncivilly ignoring the rest of her words.
Lottie buttered a scone. “Perhaps I should not say. The matter is really just Amelia’s concern, although it is exciting for her.”
“Where is she going?” he repeated while her husband watched the two of them with amusement.
Lottie deliberately took a bite of her scone and ate it, while he waited with increasing impatience. “I am surprised that her aunt considers it necessary now that Amelia has received a second offer of marriage.”
“What?” Mr Brightford jumped to his feet.
Lottie looked up at him with an expression of innocent enquiry.
Glaring, he sat down again and turned to Alex: “Perhaps you would be willing to tell me what is going on here.”
“It is my wife’s news.”
As two pairs of eyes turned to her again, Lottie took another bite of her scone.
* * *
Six months ago there was nothing Amelia wanted more than a proper coming out in London. She had dreamed of having lovely new outfits for every occasion, of meeting famous people and going to balls every night.
So much had changed since then. Her father had still been alive, Lottie was still living in Edinburgh, and Amelia had not known Mr Brightford at all. She thought now of his intelligence and wit and of his perceptive appreciation of her intelligence and wit. Mr Brightford was perfect for her and surely he had indicated that he felt the same? She remembered in England Lottie saying that she could not wait to begin married life and that was how Amelia felt now: she wanted to kiss Mr Brightford and talk to him every day and live in his house with him.
Six months ago she would have been thrilled to be going to London. Now she only dreaded the thought of being parted from Mr Brightford.
* * *
“Please would you request that I be allowed a private interview with Miss Daventry,” Mr Brightford said to her butler. He was not taking another chance of losing her. Elborough of all people. London, he could imagine, would hold far more appeal.
“I am afraid Miss Daventry is not in, sir.”
So much for the two hours he had spent this morning trying to think of the best words to convey his desire to marry her. “Are you expecting her back imminently?”
“I fear I do not know of her plans, sir. Do you wish to speak to Mrs Daventry and Mrs Gallerton?”
If Mrs Daventry had been alone he might have chanced making small talk and hoping Miss Daventry would be back soon, but he had no intention of subjecting himself to Mrs Gallerton’s curiosity. “No. I will return in an hour or two.”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned away from the house with a grimace. Now he would have to try and remember his eloquent marriage proposal for another two hours - he was bound to mess it up and it would be just like Miss Daventry to laugh at him.
He smiled to himself at the prospect: as long as she accepted him she could laugh as much as she wished.
* * *
Amelia and her maid emerged from one of Edinburgh’s largest milliners then Walker gave a shriek at the same time as Amelia felt herself grabbed. She struggled in the grip of two strange men and tried to tell them that they had made a calamitous error and would suffer the consequences with a jail sentence if not a hanging. Walker was pushing at the men, trying to reach Amelia, but the men shoved her back, knocking her over.
“How dare you!” Amelia exclaimed, fearing Walker had been hurt, then she was thrown inside a carriage in so rough a manner that she nearly fell to the floor. A man’s hands reached for her and she tried to pull away, but found herself assisted into a seat, the hands not letting go until she stilled. The vehicle began to move, hurtling down the roads away from the familiar streets and safety.
The carriage curtains had been closed so she could not immediately see anything beyond a figure in the darkness opposite her. He barely looked human and the danger of her situation hit her hard, making it difficult to breathe. It must be a mistake, though: her family had no wealth; no one could have anything to gain in taking her.
She swallowed her fear, glared at the apparition and sa
id, “My name is Miss Daventry and I demand that you return me immediately to where your henchmen found me.”
“I know who you are.” The man leaned forward and she went cold as she recognised him, the threat ten times worse than she had feared. This was not, after all, a mistake and there was no one she was more afraid to be alone with. “You are the future Duchess of Elborough.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
MR BRIGHTFORD knocked on the door of the Daventry household and once again informed the butler that he wished to speak to Miss Daventry.
“Er, yes… Would you wait inside, sir?”
He barely noticed the butler’s unusual hesitancy, still trying to keep the words of his marriage proposal in some kind of order in his head. He did, however, notice when he was left standing in the entrance hall instead of being taken into the drawing room. The butler opened the door to another room and Brightford could hear the sounds of hysterical voices and… was a woman in there crying?
He took a step forward then stopped himself. If someone was ill or some other misfortune had taken place then it was up to the family if they wanted his assistance. It hit him with a lurching sensation in his stomach that it might well be Miss Daventry who was ill or hurt.
He was left with these disturbing thoughts for only a moment before the butler reappeared and led him into what looked like an informal family living room. It was a maid who was crying and trying to talk at the same time, although she halted, wide-eyed when she saw him.
Mrs Daventry had a haggard look of distress to her but managed to sound composed as she said to him, “Sir, can we rely upon your absolute discretion for the sake of helping Amelia?”
His fear was proven correct. “Of course. What has happened? What can I do?”
“She has been abducted.”
“I beg your pardon?” This was one danger he had not imagined and he could scarcely believe it.
Mrs Daventry turned back to the maid: “You were saying that you recognised the carriage, Walker?”
“Aye, Ma’am.” She visibly gulped down a sob. “It was that man who proposed to Miss Amy.”
