'Yes, of course. Mama too. We can explore the town, Funchal. I remember it when we sailed out. The island's very mountainous.'
'Mama says she doesn't wish to go ashore.'
'Doesn't she? But that won't matter. We can go.'
'She – oh Gerard, I don't know what to do!'
He came across to sit bedside her, heedless of the piles of paper he was disturbing.
'Fanny, love, what is it? Is Mama ill? Is that why she doesn't want to go? She was well this morning.'
'No, she's well. It's just that the Earl of Escott has asked her if he might take me ashore, and she has given him permission. She said I didn't need a chaperone, even. Gerard, I don't like him! He's always hovering by me when I'm trying to draw, and I can't concentrate! He – I don't know why, but I feel so uncomfortable, shivery, when he's near me. I think it's the way he looks at me, like that cat we had when I was a baby, who used to chase birds.'
Gerard cursed himself for not paying more attention to his little sister during the voyage. It was no excuse that he had so much to learn, so many papers to study, if he was to run his father's business successfully and make a profit.
'Has the fellow been impertinent?'
'I don't know. He is always praising what I've drawn, even when I know it's not at all good. And he always offers his arm, saying he doesn't want me to fall when the deck tilts. I don't wish to go ashore with him! When I told her that she said I was ungrateful, and didn't know what was good for me. She said it would be useful for me to know a man with a title in London, help me to meet suitable people. Can't you tell Mama?'
'Of course I will, and you will go with me. Now let's go and tell Mama I have made other arrangements for you.'
He hadn't been aware of the Earl's particular attentions towards Fanny. When he was there it appeared to be no more than a casual shipboard acquaintance. From what Fanny said now the Earl seemed to be more assiduous in his attentions when he was otherwise engaged. That, if true, was suspicious. What did the man want? Fanny was an heiress, and she was pretty. Was it merely something to amuse him during the voyage, or, and the thought made him frown, was he paying serious court to the child? But if his attentions were inappropriate and made her so uncomfortable, he would soon put a stop to them.
He hadn't taken to John Escott, but he didn't have to suffer his company while he worked in his cabin. Was his mother encouraging the fellow? He knew she meant to present Fanny that coming Season, and had mentioned once or twice that the child was so pretty, and had a large fortune, she would be surprised if she didn't catch a wealthy and titled husband.
'I can't endure the notion of more than one Season,' Mrs Holbeck said. 'I trust she will find a husband soon, this year.'
His mother was not a very sociable woman. She always preferred to be at home, entertaining a few familiar friends, her particular cronies, rather than enjoying bigger social events. Was she anticipating, even promoting, a match with this Earl both because he was titled, and to enable her to avoid chaperoning Fanny during the Season? He felt a wave of anger engulf him, and when he found his mother seated on deck with two fellow widows, his tone was unusually curt when he begged to speak with her.
*
'This is a lovely colour,' Amanda said, glancing up at Lady Charlotte as she fingered the scarlet silk material.
Her aunt shuddered.
'It may be a lovely colour, my dear, but not for you. In the first place debutantes do not wear such bold colours, and this one would drain all the colour from your own hair. Do you want to look pale?' she went on as Amanda opened her mouth to argue.
'But all these white and pale blues and insipid pinks are so boring.'
'We'll keep looking. They are not the only possible colours. I saw the most delicious pale green last year when I was bringing out Deborah, and she's as blonde as you are. We'll go to that warehouse next.'
When they returned to Berkeley Square Amanda was reconciled to not having a scarlet or an emerald green gown. The carriage was full of parcels, and they had found some attractive silks and muslins, in delicate shades of cream, lemon, pale green, and one in a more vivid rose pink. She could, her aunt said briskly, have her slippers dyed to match.
They had come to London early in order to have Amanda's clothes prepared. Lady Charlotte had engaged the services of the seamstress who had made the dresses for all five of her daughters, and those of her granddaughters who were old enough to be presented. Miss Pollock was a plump, elderly spinster, but she was, Amanda had been told, one of the best seamstresses in London, and in much demand.
'No one can cut out so well,' Lady Charlotte explained as she supervised the unpacking of the many parcels. 'She has almost finished Jane's trousseau. She has only to take your measurements and she will cut out a dress or a pelisse that will fit perfectly. She never has to make adjustments like some, like that dreadful woman I had to engage three years ago for Hannah, when Miss Pollock was ill for a few weeks. Tomorrow we will go and find you some shawls, and hats. Now we have the material we can try to match the colours.'
Amanda suppressed a small sigh. She enjoyed having all these new and fashionable clothes, but was tired of trailing from one warehouse to another. Aunt Charlotte seemed indefatigable. They had been in London for only three days, and the Season had not yet begun. What would it be like when she had to attend balls and parties and the theatre and pay visits and drive or walk in the Park every single day?
Lady Charlotte eyed her in concern. Was the child too delicate for the rigours of a London Season? Ought they to wait a year? Yet with Jethro determined to spend next Spring in Egypt, they would have to wait until the second year, and Amanda would be twenty, almost on the shelf.
'We will be discriminating and accept only the best invitations,' she said now, hoping to encourage the girl. 'It's those mothers who are desperate to find husbands for girls who are neither pretty nor have adequate portions who try to show them off at every opportunity. You are both pretty and rich and prospective suitors will find their way here.'
'What if I don't like them?'
'Then we'll send them away. Lucien isn't eager to lose you, my dear, but he knows you must have your chances.'
A sudden thought struck the girl.
'Is it because of me, taking care of me since Mama died, that Lucien hasn't married?'
Lady Charlotte shook her head.
'Come to my dressing room, we can leave Megan to finish putting away the rest.'
When the door of the dressing room was closed she told Amanda to sit on the dressing stool while she went across to the window and looked down into the Square.
'I probably ought not to tell you this,' she said slowly, turning to face Amanda, 'but when Lucien was younger, that time he was wounded in the Peninsula and had to come home to recuperate, he fell in love with someone, but she rejected him. That scar on his cheek was much worse, and there was a fear his leg might have to be amputated. Her rejection was very hurtful, especially as she had virtually given her promise on his last leave.'
'But the scar's almost invisible!' Amanda was indignant. 'And his leg healed completely. Why, he's one of the best riders in Shropshire, he can master even Mephisto, that stallion everyone said was unrideable! She must have been a horrid girl. Who was it?'
'I really can't tell you that, my love, as we may well meet her in town. She married someone else the following year. Of course his injuries healed, but the experience left him very sensitive. And then he had you to look after. Oh, he comes to London for a few weeks every year, but he holds himself aloof, despite all the lures put out for him. This year, child, we must make him stay for the whole Season, and make sure he meets the most eligible debutantes.'
Amanda clapped her hands.
'And find him a bride. If I marry and leave Beech Court he will be lonely. Yes, Aunt, we'll do that. Oh, what fun it's going to be, choosing a suitable wife for him. Have you any girls in mind?'
*
CHAPTER 3
Silas
declined to go ashore at Madeira. It had been made clear to him by Fanny's brother that he was not considered a suitable escort for a young girl. Mrs Holbeck had been indignant, and retired to her bed with just her maid and her vinaigrette and hartshorn for company, but Silas had not heard what she said to her son. Gerard had spoken to him separately, and Silas still shook with indignation when he recalled the contempt in the man's voice. He might have been speaking to a servant, not an earl!
'I do appreciate you have been away from England for a good many years,' Gerard had said, 'and life may be more casual in some parts of India, though not amongst the merchant community I am familiar with. I have to guard my sister's reputation, and it would not be improved if it became known she was with an unmarried man without a chaperone.'
'Heavens, man, what do you think I mean to do to her? Ravish her? In the middle of a town? It's hardly practicable, even if I wished it.'
'I trust even you would never think of doing so, but Society can be very censorious, and a girl's reputation has to be guarded.'
That 'even' hurt, and Silas only just prevented himself from planting a facer on the impertinent fellow's face. Thinking of it afterwards, he still could not decide what had restrained him. Was it that after months at sea he was not on top form, or was it the suspicion that the wretched fellow looked as though he would welcome the opportunity to hit back? He was big and strong, and much fitter than Silas himself. Perhaps it had been the fact that one of the senior officers was on the deck, and the knowledge that two men who had been caught brawling the previous week had been put in chains.
Mrs Holbeck had been indignant on his behalf, but said she did not wish to offend Gerard. When he suggested she might accompany him and Amanda she had refused.
'I've no desire to have to clamber down a rope ladder into one of those little boats to be rowed ashore,' she said firmly. 'But I will make sure you are invited to Fanny's ball in London. She will not wish to lose touch with you, for you have been excellent company on this tedious voyage.'
Silas smiled, but if he were to have any chance with the heiress he would somehow have to overcome her brother's antipathy, an antipathy he could not understand, for he had made every effort to be pleasant to the fellow, who was, after all, only a merchant, however wealthy he was.
When they anchored in Funchal bay he stood by the rail and watched Fanny being helped down the rope ladder, and turning an excited smile towards Gerard. She was a little beauty, and he discovered he wanted her as much as he wanted her fortune. If Gerard were not around, if, perhaps, he were dead, her fortune would be much larger. Mrs Holbeck was not, she had confided, relishing the prospect of chaperoning Fanny to all the Season's festivities. If the child could be betrothed beforehand it would suit her very well. That prospect, however, had now vanished. If he could not get the girl alone he could not court her, and now she seemed even to have abandoned her sketching, and her brother was always present when she was on deck. He would not win, Silas vowed. He, Silas, knew many more tricks than Mr merchant Holbeck!
*
'I didn't sit out a single dance!'
Amanda was still fizzing with excitement as they drove back to Berkeley Square. She had been apprehensive about this first important ball of the Season, but Aunt Charlotte had made certain she knew several other debutantes beforehand. They had made calls during the past two weeks on many of her aunt's friends who had daughters or granddaughters coming out this year. Usually there were young men in attendance, sons or grandsons, and Amanda began to wonder if her aunt was selecting her calls depending on whether there were young unattached men in the families she visited. Certainly most of those she had met had danced with her, and she had been relieved when she discovered she was able to participate without making mistakes. Lucien had insisted she had a dancing master even after she came home from school, though she had told him they had been given dancing lessons there.
'We'll drive in the Park tomorrow,' Lady Charlotte said. 'You'll know plenty of people now, it won't be like the first drive when it was only my old friends who spoke to us.'
Amanda was reminded of her desire to purchase a sporting carriage of her own, but now she had seen the traffic in London, traffic she would have to negotiate in order to reach the Park, she was having second thoughts. She was, privately, realistic about her driving skills, though she pretended to be confident. Could she really avoid the coaches, drays, carts and other sporting vehicles that filled the streets? Lady Charlotte, on that first drive, had pointed out two women driving their own vehicles, one a smart yellow-painted curricle, one a phaeton, though not a high-perch one.
'They are considered rather fast,' her aunt had commented. 'I expect there will be plenty of young men eager to show off their own driving skills, who will ask you to drive out with them. Thank goodness Lucien will be here soon. He'll look after you, and not permit anyone who isn't competent to take you up.'
The first man who had invited her to drive, however, did so the day before the ball, and before Lucien arrived. Amanda was rather impressed, for Sir Martin Carruthers was older than Lucien, in his mid-thirties, and to her eyes he seemed far too sophisticated to take notice of a girl who was, after all, so recently out of the schoolroom. They had met when they had called on an old friend of her aunt's, and he had been the first to beg her for a dance at the ball. Lady Charlotte had confided that Sir Martin was an excellent whip, and she could trust her niece with him.
'Yes, take the chit for a drive, Sir Martin, but not for long. It looks as though it will rain soon.'
'Just a quick drive round the Park, Lady Charlotte, and she'll be back here long before it rains.'
Amanda was wearing a pale forget-me-not blue gown, with embroidered flowers on the bodice in a darker shade, and a matching dark blue pelisse. Her straw bonnet was trimmed with blue feathers and blue ribbons matching the pelisse hung down her back. Sir Martin, helping her into his curricle, murmured that she would take the shine out of all the other debutantes, as she no doubt would at the ball.
'Will you be going to Almack's?' he asked.
'Yes, my aunt has obtained vouchers. It's something I've been looking forward to, ever since my friend Louise came out last year and told me all about it.'
He laughed. 'It's not so very exciting. The refreshments are dull, there is nothing worth drinking, just orgeat or ratafia, and it is all so very decorous.'
'I've been warned I may not waltz until one of the Patronesses has given me leave.'
Amanda's tone was despondent. She fancied she could waltz very well, she and Emily, a friend in Shropshire, had learned together.
'No, but when they do you must allow me to be your first partner.'
Amanda blushed, not knowing what to say, but he laughed and remarked on the new growth, signs of Spring, in the Park, and asked her about her home. His own estate was, he told her, in Yorkshire, and when she said she had never visited that county he extolled the beauties of the moorland.
'Shropshire is far gentler, especially in the north of the county, where your home is.'
'Do you know Beech Court? Have you been there?'
'I haven't visited, I do not know your brother well, as he is a few years younger than I, and we did not come across one another at Eton. Besides, he does not come to town every year. But I hope, in the near future, to amend that omission. He will no doubt be in town this year, and I will come to know him? Besides, I will be visiting other friends in the area around Shrewsbury and Market Drayton in August, and will depend on an invitation to visit your home.'
Amanda made some response, but she was puzzled. Surely it was not customary for men to invite themselves to visit the homes of people they did not know? She sighed. There was so much she had to learn about correct behaviour in Society, and questions she needed to ask.
*
When Silas discovered from Mrs Holbeck that they did not intend to take part in the Season for a few weeks, since they had first to provide Fanny with a suitable wardrobe, he decided
he might as well go to Shropshire and take possession of Escott Priory straight away. He could pursue Fanny later, and meanwhile he could visit the old man's lawyer in Ludlow, and make sure funds were available for him. So far he had not been able to replenish his fortunes, he had met few young and susceptible men in London. He knew the old Earl had a London house, but it would be easier, he decided, if the house had been let, to have Mr Sopwith deal with the repossession.
He'd stay in Ludlow, at The Feathers. He'd never even been inside the place in the past, so no one there would know him or John well. It would be a good test if the good citizens of Ludlow accepted him as the Earl. There was no reason, he reassured himself, why they should not, for no one from Shropshire had seen either him or John for twenty years, but he couldn't help feeling apprehensive. The only difference, which not many men would know about, was a scar on his ribs which he had acquired when he was fifteen, and had been involved in a fight at the local ale house. Unexpectedly he had found taking John's place proving far worse for his nerves than any of the tricks they had got up to in the past, either in England or India. First, though, he would hire a horse and ride out for a look at the Priory. As a child he'd been so envious of John, living in the big house while he and his mother had just a tiny cottage with one room and an attic bedroom reached by a steep ladder, and even though he had played with his half-brother in the Priory nursery, he'd always had to return to the hovel where he lived with his mother. Now he would be the owner of all that magnificence he'd craved as a child.
He would not, yet, risk a meeting with his mother, if she were still alive and still living in the small gatehouse. After all these years he was sure he could keep up his imposture in front of her, but it would be better if all the other servants and estate workers accepted him first, then she would not even begin to doubt.
There was a back gate onto the estate, a long drive past the cottage where the head gardener lived, which led afterwards to the lake where he could gain his first sight of his new home. He was unlikely to be seen, the gardener would be at work in the main gardens behind the house. If he had a wife or children who saw him, he'd ride on before they could recognise him as their new master.
Earl from India Page 3
