His Lordship's Vow (Regency Romance Short Novel)

by Cheryl Bolen

  He wondered if Lady Mary ever regretted that she’d not wed a titled man with deep pockets. His mother had told him the Featherstone's marriage had been a true love match. He would have liked to have known the woman who was possessed of such great sense. For there was no finer man than Harold Featherstone.

  How fortunate Lady Mary had been to be able to follow her heart.

  If the late Lady Mary were anything like her daughter, she must have been possessed of uncommon intelligence. He could well understand how Harold Featherstone would have stood out from the other dandies who were sure to have been dancing attendance upon her. He hoped her niece shared that.

  Then he would stand a chance.

  The lone Featherstone upstairs servant, a woman, announced dinner. Since Lady Sarah was the highest-ranking female, Mr. Featherstone led her into dinner. As the highest-ranking male, Lord Slade led the only other female into the dining room.

  “I have arranged that you shall be seated directly across from my cousin,” Miss Featherstone whispered. “Pray, dazzle her with your wit.”

  Somehow, he thought a striking physical appearance would hold more sway with Lady Sarah than a man of wit. What a pity.

  He was seated to the right of his host. At the opposite end of the table, Miss Featherstone served as hostess. It appeared she had taken Poppinbotham, who sat at her right, under her wing.

  Mr. Featherstone passed the pickled beets. “I thank you,” Lord Slade said. “It is so very good of you to have us, and I must say this table has never held such lovely delights.” His gaze settled on Lady Sarah.

  Mr. Featherstone laughed. “You’re anything but subtle, my lord. Is my niece not lovely? She reminds me so of my late wife.”

  “Then you must have been an exceedingly fortunate man to have wed such a beautiful woman. I trust that Gainsborough in the drawing room was of Lady Mary?”

  “Yes to both. I was most fortunate, and yes, that is her portrait.”

  Once their plates were filled and eating had actually commenced, Lady Sarah addressed him. “So you are mad for all things political.”

  “That’s true. I fear that makes my conversation dull to those who don’t share my interest.”

  “My cousin tells me you are anything but dull, my lord. She positively gushes over your intelligence.”

  “Your cousin is too kind.”

  Lady Sarah’s glance lit to Mr. Poppinbotham, and her lips thinned. “Indeed, she is.”

  That gentleman could be heard to say, “When I get in Parliament, I have not decided if it would be best to have my coachman bring me with the full four-horse carriage, or if I should just come in my tilbury.” He glanced down the table at Slade. “Which do you do, my lord?”

  The Buffoon had not yet been elected to the lower chamber when he was already comparing himself to a member of the upper chamber! “I dare say you will not be pleased with my response, Poppinbotham, for I am undoubtedly one of the most frugal men in all of Parliament. I let Slade House, took lodgings close to Westminster, and I walk to the House of Lords every day.”

  “But, my lord,” Poppinbotham exclaimed, “it is dark when sessions end. Surely a fine aristocrat like yourself doesn’t walk the pavement alone at night!”

  “I am fortunate in that my colleagues are always gracious about giving me a lift at the end of the day. Often we’re going to the same homes for dinner or routs.”

  “Or to you clubs, I dare say,” Poppinbotham added.

  “It’s been a long while since I’ve been to Brook’s.” The fact was, it was too bloody expensive for Lord Slade to keep his membership active. Not when he still had three sisters to dower.

  Mr. Featherstone obviously did not like the direction the dinner table conversation was taking for he began to steer it back to pertinent issues of the day. “Do you think the bill on labor unions will be put to a vote in Lords, my lord?”

  Slade shook his head. “Lord Carrington will never allow it to be brought up.”

  Mr. Featherstone’s eyes narrowed with displeasure. “Might hit him in the pocketbook if he had to pay decent wages to the men who toil in his mines.”

  “Papa is an ally of Lord Carrington in this matter,” said Lady Sarah, smiling broadly.

  Her smile indicated she was inordinately pleased. Was the poor girl so ignorant of civil liberties that she was proud of her father’s resistance to progressive reform?

  Then it occurred to him she was merely pleased that she actually knew something about what they were discussing, that she had actually paid close enough attention to what was occurring in the chamber where her father served.

  “My dear niece is well aware that her father and I do not see eye to eye on matters of reform, but we agree amiably to disagree,” Mr. Featherstone said, smiling at Lady Sarah.

  She peered across the table at Lord Slade. “I understand you have several sisters to launch into society, my lord.”

  “Three. The eldest will come out next year.” It would take every farthing he could lay his hands on.

  Unless he could capture an heiress.

  He must make himself agreeable to Lady Sarah. More than that, he must make himself admire Lady Sarah. He had given his word to Miss Featherstone he would not ask for her cousin’s hand until he could truthfully tell the lady he loved her. As it stood at present, the only thing he admired about the young lady was her appearance. And her hefty purse.

  How had it been with his host when he had fallen in love with the previous Lord Clegg’s daughter? “Tell me, Mr. Featherstone, prior to your marriage did your late wife share your interest in politics?”

  “Indeed, she did. In fact, that is what brought us together.” He glanced down the table at his daughter. “She was as astute as our daughter is. She used to sit in the galleries at commons— back when women were allowed—to watch her brother- - - “ He turned to Lady Sarah, “that would have been your papa in Commons before he succeeded. My dear Mary claims she fell in love with me because she admired my speeches.”

  Slade nodded. “A most intelligent woman, to be sure.”

  At the other end of the table, he caught snatches about the extension of the franchise.

  “You are in favor of giving the vote to the common man?” Poppinbotham asked Miss Featherstone.

  “Of course, and you must, too, if you intend to align yourself with the Whigs.”

  “Oh dear.” Lady Sarah wrinkled her nose. “Why, my dear cousin, should you wish to allow the masses to have a say in how we live our lives?”

  “It is my opinion that all men are created equal,” Miss Featherstone replied.

  “If it is permissible to disagree,” Lady Sarah said, “I must. If our Creator had meant us to be equal, He would have made us equal. I believe it’s we aristocrats who have been charged with looking after the masses.”

  “And some aristocrats do an admirable job,” Lord Slade said, “but most are only interested in serving themselves.”

  Lady Sarah sighed. “Now I know why Papa does not attend these dinners.”

  He peered across the table. “I assure you, I do not mean to be disagreeable.” But it was bloody difficult to be agreeable to one with whom he had nothing at all in common, to one whom he could not even admire.

  After dinner, he contrived to be one of the last to leave in order to speak privately with Miss Featherstone. Which meant he was privy to Poppinbotham’s leave-taking from the young lady.

  Holding her hand far too long, the Buffoon said, “I beg you allow me to call for you tomorrow afternoon for a ride in the park, my dear Miss Featherstone.”

  “If the weather obliges, that will be most agreeable, Mr. Poppinbotham.”

  Lord Slade was the last to leave.

  “I am so happy to be alone with you,” Miss Featherstone said, “for I must tell you to plan on Almack’s Wednesday night.”

  He grimaced. He knew he must return there when his sisters were presented, but he had hoped to prolong the misery as long as possible. For there was not
hing more boring than attending the assemblies there – where his title deemed him a matrimonial prize even without a fortune. The scheming mothers were relentless, the daughters were very young, and intelligent conversation was nonexistent. “Must I?”

  She placed her hand on his sleeve. “If you hope to impress Lady Sarah with your elegance on the dance floor.”

  Without being aware of what he was doing, he placed his hand over hers. “I shall be greatly in your debt, my dear Miss Featherstone.” Then–still not conscious of what he was doing –he leaned toward her and dropped a kiss on her cheek before departing.

  Chapter 5

  Miss Featherstone was very pleased with herself. Despite that half the men in the beau monde had designs on her cousin, she had persuaded that lovely creature to ride to Almack's in Mr. Poppinbotham's carriage with her – and Lord Slade. Dear Sarah was sure to fall in love with the handsome earl after being so intimately in his company on these several occasions now.

  On Wednesday night, they sped toward King Street with Miss Featherstone seated next to Mr. Poppinbotham in the dimly lit carriage. This afforded her the opportunity to observe the couple seated across from her. What a fine looking couple they made, Lord Slade so dark and handsome, Sarah so fair and lovely. In her soft ivory gown that draped elegantly over her smooth curves, Lady Sarah brought to mind an elegant Grecian goddess.

  "You have the vouchers?" Mr. Poppinbotham asked Miss Featherstone, nervously.

  She looked up at her companion. "Oh, yes, in my reticule. Should you like them?"

  "What is the protocol?"

  "I'm not sure there is a protocol. Do you know of one, Lord Slade?" Jane asked.

  "Dare say it won't matter, but it may make Poppinbotham feel better if you allow him to present the vouchers."

  Mr. Poppinbotham wiped his moist brow. "Oh, yes, very good of you, my lord, to suggest that."

  Miss Featherstone handed over the vouchers.

  "Any other protocols I should know about?"

  "My mama says it's not proper to stand up with the same partner for more than two sets," Lady Sarah offered.

  "Unless one is engaged to be married," Miss Featherstone added.

  Mr. Poppinbotham nodded. "That is most helpful to know. Shouldn't wish to break any rules."

  After arriving at the Palladian structure that was filled with hundreds of fashionably dressed members of the ton, the two couples immediately paired up to dance the first set, a minuet. When it was over, the four of them went to one of the supper rooms to procure lemonade and sit for a moment, though nearly every step of Lady Sarah's progress was impeded by the flocks of young men begging to stand up with her later.

  "How popular you are," Lord Slade said to the beauty once they sat at one of the tables in the supper room. "This may be your only opportunity to sit down all night."

  The lady took a tiny bite of her dry cake. "La, my lord! I am accustomed to it."

  "I'm warning you, I mean to claim you for the last dance of the night," he said.

  "I should be honored."

  Miss Featherstone was attempting to determine if her cousin was truly interested in his lordship. It was difficult to tell by her actions because she was possessed of lovely manners. Even Mr. Poppinbotham, of whom Jane knew her cousin did not approve, was addressed by Lady Sarah in the most polite way imaginable.

  Just that afternoon the cousins had discussed the prospective member of the House of Commons. "The man means to court you, Jane!" a shocked Lady Sarah had said.

  "Indeed he does," Jane had replied.

  "But, dearest, you are so far above that man's touch."

  "But, dearest, he is the only man in three years who has ever honored me in such a manner."

  "Well, I don't think you should encourage him. You know you can't marry him."

  "Why can't I?" Miss Featherstone had asked.

  "Because. Because you're much too fine for the likes of him. Surely you wouldn't even consider an offer from the man!"

  Jane's stomach had roiled when she answered. This was the first time she had ever acknowledged her tumultuous decision. "But I would."

  Lady Sarah's jaw had dropped. "You cannot be serious! Can you honestly tell me you love the man?"

  "I cannot tell you that."

  "So you don't love him, but you'd be willing to marry him?"

  "It's that or be dependent upon Robert and Lavinia once Papa . . ." She could not bear to put words to her thoughts.

  "That's ridiculous! You can always have a home with me."

  "That's very kind of you, but has it not occurred to you that I would one day like to have my own home? That I would like to become a mother and have a family of my own?"

  The conversation had ended with Lady Sarah's eyes moistening over her cousin's plight.

  When the foursome finished their lemonade and dry cake in Almack's supper rooms, Mr. Poppinbotham begged Lady Sarah to stand up with him for the next set.

  "And I should like to sit it out," said Lord Slade, eying Miss Featherstone. "Will you stay and amuse me?"

  "Certainly, my lord." She glanced at her cousin, who was rising. "Neither Lord Slade nor I is especially fond of dancing."

  After Mr. Poppinbotham and her cousin had left the chamber, Miss Featherstone addressed his lordship. "How do you think your suit is progressing with my cousin?"

  "It's difficult to say. Lady Sarah is excessively agreeable to all of us who pay her court."

  "Yes, I was thinking the same thing. A pity we can't contrive some disaster which would render you a great hero."

  His black eyes glistened with amusement. "Like saving her from a swollen river, or rescuing her from a fire?"

  "Exactly!"

  "Pray, Miss Featherstone, I shouldn't want to be culpable in steering you on a path of deceit."

  "Of course you wouldn't. You pride yourself on your excessive honesty. Isn't that what got you into this situation in the first place? Your desire to fulfill a promise to your dying father?"

  He grimaced, nodding.

  "I do hope you are falling in love with my cousin. She has so many good qualities." Other than her spectacular appearance and vast wealth.

  "Indeed she does."

  Not quite spoken like a man in love. The two needed more time together, Miss Featherstone decided. "I must change the topic of conversation, my lord, and beg that you assist poor Mr. Poppinbotham as he transitions from a mercantile world into our world. His political views cry out for guidance from someone like you, and I know he looks up to you."

  "No one is better suited to guide the man than you."

  "I thank you for the compliment."

  "It wasn't meant for a compliment. It is the truth."

  "You sound like my papa."

  "Your father is not only the most intelligent man of my acquaintance, but he is also clearly the most noble."

  "I am in perfect agreement with you, my lord."

  "A pity I'm not courting you. We are always in agreement, my dear Miss Featherstone."

  Unaccountably, her stomach jostled. The very notion of his lordship courting her caused her heart to flutter, her breath to rasp. For she had been unable to shake from her thoughts the brotherly kiss he had dropped on her cheek a few nights earlier. While it may not have meant anything to him, it had meant everything to her. She had been profoundly moved over the kiss, even though it was not a real kiss. That night, with heart racing and thoughts morose, she had been unable to sleep.

  Now, as she peered into his earnest face, she was compelled not to look away. Their eyes locked and her limbs began to tremble. Then her gaze flicked away. "It is a pity you're being forced into a courtship you would not have chosen, had you the luxury of free choice."

  "Alas," he said, shrugging with resignation, "my bed is made, and now I must lie in it."

  She straightened her gloves where they had wrinkled over her wrists, careful not to make eye contact with him. "Of course we both know you will be the most fortunate man in the three ki
ngdoms if you can win my cousin's hand."

  "Without question. There is no one better to meet my all needs than the lovely Lady Sarah."

  She almost felt sorry for her beautiful cousin. Was Sarah's future as a wife intrinsically tied to her bounty, to her ability to meet her future husband's needs? What of love? There was, thankfully, the fact that Lord Slade had given his word. He would not ask for Lady Sarah's hand until he could truthfully tell her he loved her. Miss Featherstone had complete confidence in his lordship's honesty.

  Lord Slade stood and offered her a hand. "Come, let us see how our former partners progress."

  She froze for a moment as her eye traveled from the tip of his dark head, to his broad shoulders sheathed in fine black wool, to the starchy white cravat beneath his bronzed face, the long torso with well-fitted tail coat, and long, powerful legs. How could silly Sarah not have fallen madly in love with such a magnificent man? She rose and placed her hand in his, not without a renewal of that fluttering in her heart.

  When they reached the large assembly room, they backed up near the wall and surveyed the dancers. By now Mr. Poppinbotham and Lady Sarah had paired up with fresh partners. Miss Featherstone watched with amusement as her cousin danced with Lord Slade's brother, Captain St. John. The captain looked exceedingly handsome in his red regimental coat and white breeches which clung to his long, sinewy legs. It did not escape Miss Featherstone's notice that every unaccompanied miss in the chamber was watching the handsome young officer.

  When the orchestra stopped playing, the others joined up with Jane and Lord Slade, and the brothers began to chat amiably.

  Mr. Poppinbotham neared Miss Featherstone and lowered his voice. "You must point out which gentlemen here are Members of Parliament."

  For the remainder of the evening, Mr. Poppinbotham, dressed in several shades of blue – except for his waistcoat which was of orange silk – escorted Miss Featherstone about the lofty chamber as she introduced him to men who had been elected to Parliament, most of them younger sons and younger brothers of peers.