It really wasn’t.
“What can I do to assist you, my lord?” Aubrey asked in the most polite, most bland tone possible. “I have no recommendations to give you for potential suitors for Miss Morledge, I know little of London Society. And as for Withrow…”
“Oh, I don’t expect you to know what to do for my daughter, Ingram,” Trenwick interrupted with a scoff. “I doubt anyone can truly help me there, but I have set some plans in motion to correct the situation, if all goes according to my wishes.”
If all… What? How could he possibly have plans for Grace if he just admitted to not having any gentlemen willing to take her off his hands?
Trenwick cleared his throat, and his expression eased into an almost comfortable expression. “But Withrow is another matter entirely.”
Aubrey raised a brow. “Indeed? In what respect? Surely you don’t think me in need of two estates in the same county and in such proximity.”
“Of course not, of course not.” Trenwick tapped his fingers against the smooth wood of his little-used desk. “But you’ve spent a deal of time at Breyerly. Much of your time, I expect.”
“You are correct,” Aubrey acknowledged with a nod. “As you may recall, my father was not particularly adept when it came to managing our estate, though he managed to keep from losing the bulk of our fortune.”
Trenwick winced. “I did warn him, you know. Poor man.”
Aubrey smirked at that. “I doubt he listened to a word, but I appreciate the attempt. At any rate, the last several years have been spent working tirelessly with my steward and the estate manager to rebuild the estate’s prosperity and increase her holdings, if possible. We’ve certainly managed to do that, and Breyerly is flourishing. Truth be told, my lord, I do not know quite how to behave in London, I have spent so long in the country laboring for my tenants.”
“That speaks well of your character, Ingram,” Trenwick said with an approving nod. “It’s good to have the trust and respect of your tenants. It engenders loyalty among them, which ensures they will work hard for you for many years. You must be fair but firm with them, or you will find yourself in the same poor straits as your father.”
It would take a good deal more than being too friendly with his tenants to sink him that far, but Aubrey would leave that bit of insight unsaid. How could Trenwick offer him such advice on estate matters, when he, himself, had abandoned his estate and tenants without so much as a fare-thee-well, or any explanation at all?
Aubrey knew all too well how the tenants felt about Trenwick; they had come to him and his estate manager often. Unfortunately, there was no land to spare on Breyerly for the poor farmers begging to become his tenants, though it was not for want of trying.
And he most certainly did not need two estates to manage, now that he’d finally salvaged one.
“So, from one landowner to another, what can I do to make Withrow more appealing for prospective buyers? I haven’t set foot there in years, but my estate manager has been taking care of upkeep, so the house should be well enough off.”
Trenwick needed a new estate manager. The house was in shambles, gaping holes in the roof, and anything that could find its way within to inhabit the place had done so. It was an eyesore and the land had turned wild but for the farms that were still carefully kept by those who had not found other options for themselves.
He wanted improvements? The only improvement Aubrey could think of would be to raze the house entirely and sell the land. Yet he couldn’t tell him that. Mad as it was, Aubrey still had an attachment to Withrow, and all the memories there.
So, he smiled at the older man and drummed his fingers restlessly against each other. “Have you considered the younger gentlemen, sir? Those without appealing prospects for a young woman might benefit from such an opportunity. And if you play your cards right, if you’ll permit the phrase, you might find you kill two birds with one stone.”
Trenwick’s eyes lit up and his mouth curved. “Indeed, Lord Ingram? Well, that is a thought I certainly hadn’t considered before. Intriguing notion…”
Chapter Five
There are ideas and there are good ideas. And then there are ridiculous, foolhardy, utterly moronic ideas that do absolutely nothing to credit the intelligence of the one unfortunate enough to speak it. Listeners must try not to berate such a person, for surely they are in need of some assistance and education to prevent such an expression.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 16 September 1818
“I’m sorry, your father wants you to do what?”
“Shh!” Grace insisted, looking around at the various guests as she and Charlotte strode arm in arm into the ballroom of the Campbells, their hosts for the evening. “The last thing I need is to draw attention to myself, especially given… you know.”
Charlotte tugged her closer, fixing her usual public smile on her face and nodding at the few people smiling at her in greeting.
“You mean to tell me,” Charlotte continued through gritted teeth, her tone far less pleasant than her smile, “that your father is literally having you inspected… for faults.”
“Yes.” There really was nothing more to say on the subject, as that summed the mess up quite nicely.
Grace felt Charlotte stiffen beside her, and glanced over to see her friend glowering darkly, no longer playing at politeness for her usual audience. And people were staring.
“Charlotte…” Grace murmured.
Charlotte exhaled roughly through her nose. “Some people need to spend quality time at the receiving end of an aggressive and especially thick tree branch applied to particularly sensitive areas.” Charlotte flicked her eyes to Grace, smiling very tightly. “Even if he is your father.”
Grace bit her lip to keep from laughing and shook her head. “This is why I love you.”
“I thought you hated my impertinence and vocal contempt for convention.”
“It’s a complicated relationship. At the moment, I quite adore it.” Grace grinned and pulled at Charlotte’s arm. “Now, stop glowering where everybody can see.”
Charlotte’s face instantly transformed, but her eyes held the same coolness. “It’s astounding how much more difficult this expression is when I feel quite the reverse. It actually pains me.”
“How you must suffer.”
They moved around the edges of the ballroom towards Lady Hetty, who was their usual marker for a gathering place at such events, noticing Prue and Izzy already seated there. Their husbands were nowhere to be seen, which was a blessing. Not that Camden Vale and Sebastian Morton were a trial to endure, but Grace did not need them to hear what she had to share with the others. She really did not need their opinions on the subject.
She was already worried about what the rest of the Spinsters would say.
Or Lady Hetty.
The ladies saw them approach and smiled in welcome. Then Izzy frowned. “Oh dear. What is the trouble?”
“How do you know there is trouble?” Grace asked with a nod to Lady Hetty, who only grunted at her.
Izzy gave her a knowing look. “You look strained. You are smiling, but it’s quite forced.” She patted the seat next to her, and Grace took it, releasing Charlotte’s arm as her friend came to stand before them.
Charlotte let her expression fall again and sighed, rubbing at her cheeks. “Ouch.”
“Why so f-forced?” Prue inquired, looking a trifle anxious.
Charlotte shook her head quickly. “Don’t make her say it yet. Wait for the others so she won’t need to repeat it.”
“Repeat what?” Georgie asked as she approached on Tony’s arm.
Grace looked at her with a weak smile. “My father has a plan.”
Georgie’s eyes widened, and she looked at her husband. “Go elsewhere, please.”
Tony snorted and bowed to the Spinsters. “I trust someone will inform me of the situation when it is necessary for me to be made aware.”
“You hope, you mean,” Charlotte muttered good-naturedly, wav
ing him off.
Tony gave her a playful glower and walked away, shaking his head.
Charlotte grinned at the rest. “I love doing that to him.”
“I’ll be sure to inform him,” Georgie replied with a soft snort, sitting beside Grace and looking at her fondly.
Grace tried to return the smile, but it faltered.
“Oh dear,” Georgie murmured, reaching out to cover Grace’s hand with her own. “Should we wait for Elinor or…?”
“Heavens no,” Charlotte protested as her hands formed fists at her side. “The child will make a scene. Get this out of the way, Grace, and then we can tell Elinor and Edith at our next meeting.”
Grace nodded, swallowing with some difficulty. “My father is in London.”
“What?”
“What?”
“Since when?”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Grace coughed a laugh, as the last interjection had been from Lady Hetty. Traditionally, Lady Hetty did not like Grace as much as she liked the rest, allegedly because she could not pinpoint why it was that Grace was a spinster like the others. In her mind, there must have been some treachery of sorts.
It wasn’t; it was simply the unfortunate truth of things.
“My mother and your father are in London at the same time?” Prue said without a hint of stammer. She scoffed quietly. “That’s unheard of.”
Charlotte looked green. “I feel the overwhelming desire to pray at this moment.” She swallowed and waved a hand at Grace. “Tell them the rest. It gets much worse.”
“Worse?” Lady Hetty remarked in a wry tone. “How can that be?”
Strangely enough, Grace took the comment as an improvement of her relationship with Lady Hetty, and she met the older woman’s gaze squarely. “My father has decided that the only solution to finding out what is wrong with me and get me married off is to have someone come into our home and study me thoroughly over the course of several days or weeks.”
Lady Hetty’s brow furrowed. “To what point and purpose?”
Grace smiled weakly. “To find my faults.”
Her brow cleared, and her eyes widened. “You cannot be serious.”
Grace nodded once. “Entirely, I’m afraid. He’s having his solicitor bring suitable candidates for the position in for interviews with him to find someone that will suit his needs.”
Georgie’s hold on Grace’s hand clenched hard and Grace looked at her friend. Georgie’s jaw was taut and her eyes blazing. “He wouldn’t dare.”
“He would,” Charlotte and Grace said at the same time. They shared the same wan smile.
“F-find your f-faults?” Prue repeated, stammering slightly, showing how distressed she truly was. “And h-have someone make a s-study of you?”
Izzy put her hand over Prue’s, though her expression was just as troubled. “When would he expect this to start?”
Grace lifted a shoulder. “As soon as he finds someone acceptable for the position, I expect.”
“It’s like finding a ruddy governess,” Charlotte muttered as she fidgeted with a ringlet near her ear.
“How would you know?” Izzy asked with a laugh that almost sounded natural.
Charlotte gave her a look. “I went through many, many governesses. By the end, Papa had me sitting in for the interviews and asking the questions. Believe me, I am more than familiar with the process of application there.”
Grace tried to smile, but found her eyes prickling with tears instead, as well as a faint tremor she could not seem to rid herself of. Sharing this secret with her friends had somehow brought the painful truth from a purely theoretical situation into reality. The shame of having to be analyzed and continually criticized by someone who likely didn’t know her just to prove a point to her father was more than she could bear. It hadn’t even begun yet, and she already felt humiliated. How much worse would things get when she was actually in the process of being critiqued?
Izzy noticed and squeezed Grace’s hand gently. “Don’t worry, dear. We’ll find a way to take care of this.”
“How?” Grace asked. “My father is determined that this is the only way. He will bring in some sanctimonious miser who will waste no time criticizing the shape of my nose, and all of my self-respect will be brought to dust blow by blow.”
“Then we provide him with a more sympathetic option in an assessor!” Georgie insisted firmly. She immediately glanced about the room. “Someone that your father would be unable to disapprove of.”
Grace sniffed without humor. “That is such a short list, I don’t even know who is on it.”
“There’s a list?” Charlotte asked with surprise. “Astounding. I didn’t think he approved of anyone.”
“Again, rather like my mother,” Prue mused with a smile. “Except she approves of Charlotte.”
Charlotte gave her a cold look. “What have I told you about curses, Prudence Vale? I don’t deserve such an iniquitous accusation.”
Grace smiled but said nothing. She believed in Georgie’s sincerity in helping her, and believed she truly thought this would work, but she knew better.
Nothing would work. No one would work.
“Oh, Lord Ingram!”
Good lord, she wouldn’t…
But of course she would. She was Georgie.
Aubrey came over to their group, smiling with genuine warmth at Georgie. “Mrs. Sterling, what a delight to see you! And you are looking so well. Such loveliness.”
Georgie smirked in a knowing way. “I do hope you remember that when you hear what I’m about to suggest.”
Aubrey raised a brow, still only looking at Georgie. “Oh?”
Please say no… Please say no…
“You must help us discover why Grace is a spinster.”
Aubrey was quite sure he hadn’t heard the deranged woman correctly. He flicked his gaze to Grace quickly, who looked as horrified as he felt.
That was something, at least. Clearly this wasn’t her idea.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked as he returned his focus to Georgie.
Her mouth curved in a wry smile. “I do believe you heard me correctly, my lord.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” he muttered, wishing he were anywhere else at the moment. He looked at the other ladies and smiled. “Apologies, ladies. Mrs. Sterling, if you would…”
Georgie rolled her eyes and quickly made the introductions, though Aubrey certainly knew who each of them were. A delay was all he really needed just now. Something to allow him to collect his thoughts and create an appropriate rebuttal.
“And Grace Morledge I believe you know,” Georgie finished simply, smiling at her friend.
Grace did not return her smile, and stared without shame, a faint wrinkle appearing between her brows.
“I do, yes,” Aubrey admitted. He bowed to Grace slightly. “How are you, Miss Morledge?”
“Fine,” she replied in a very faint voice, finally looking at him. “Thank you.”
Charlotte Wright huffed loudly. “No, she is most certainly not fine, Lord Ingram. Not with the episodic torture that awaits her.”
“Really, Charlotte,” Mrs. Morton scolded with a surprising degree of impatience.
“You have a better name for it?”
Lady Hetty made a sharp hmph of a sound. “I thought it was perfectly apt.”
“D-don’t encourage her,” Mrs. Vale pleaded.
Aubrey would dearly love to escape this ridiculous exchange between spinsters and former spinsters and flee to another corner of the room. Even marriage hungry mamas would be preferable to this.
“Don’t you agree, Lord Ingram, that a father should take care of his daughter and not expose her to gossip and ridicule?” Miss Wright asked rather pointedly.
Aubrey swallowed. “Yes… I suppose…”
“And don’t you agree that if the father has plans for his daughter that would subject her to those things, something should be done to circumvent those plans?”
Aubrey suddenly found himself without words, without any proper thought, let alone one he could relate aloud. He was being trapped; he could feel it. The world was closing in around him in the form of spinsters, and he would never be able to escape from their clutches.
His chest actually began to ache and quiver in panic.
“Georgiana, do kindly explain the situation for Lord Ingram,” Lady Hetty said with a wave of her hand. “Without the dramatics and hypothetical scenarios Charlotte seems so keen on, if you please.”
Miss Wright made a soft sound of offense, though Aubrey sensed there was none taken.
“Please don’t,” Grace whispered, her cheeks flaming.
Oddly enough, no one seemed to hear her but him. And he had heard her quite clearly.
What could possibly be so horrible as to warrant these antics from her friends and such a reaction from her?
Georgie nodded and smiled a very thin, not-quite-polite smile. “It seems, my lord, that Lord Trenwick has decided that the best course of action for Grace and her inexplicable unmarried state is to bring in a veritable stranger to assess her for faults, errors, and flaws.”
Aubrey blinked at her, then pointedly looked at Grace. “Tell me she is lying.”
Grace’s slender throat worked on a harsh swallow. Then she shook her head, averting her eyes at once.
Various curses in several languages passed through his mind at a rapid pace. He hadn’t thought Trenwick this idiotic. He knew the man was a bit stiff in his views and expectations, and certainly eccentric in the manner with which he handled situations, or his own life, but never this.
An overwhelming sense of pity filled him as he continued to look at Grace. Perfect goddess or not, she did not deserve this.
No one did.
He opened his mouth to offer his condolences when Georgie spoke again.
“So, in an effort to prevent poor Grace from being a spectacle for analysis by some curmudgeon with outdated ideals and expectations, we want to find someone that might be more suited to our needs.” She smiled at Aubrey in encouragement. “Hence, I have called upon you.”
My Fair Spinster Page 6
