“I realize that, sir, and since I consider it the only wise course of action, I am putting myself at your service,” Kate responded gently.
Charity had hung back from this encounter and could not hear what the two were saying to each other, but she now saw his lordship shrug his sheet-covered shoulders. She turned her back to them to hide her amusement.
“Thank you, ma’am. In that case I would have you go to Thomas, and only he, if you please, and tell him to bring to me here some money and some . . .” Telling this young woman to send his secretary with some clothing for himself was more than mortifying, it was intolerable.
“Have you no standish and pen there? Some paper on which to write? I am like to forget the half of it,” Kate suggested with lowered eyes.
“Wait a moment, if you will.” Winterton withdrew from the window, and Kate did not allow herself to look at Charity for fear of losing her composure. It was several minutes before Winterton returned with a scruffy-looking sheet which might easily have been wallpaper. “Here,” he said, thrusting it through the window, his black brows lowered in a frown. “If you will please deliver it personally to Thomas without delay.”
“On one condition,” Kate said calmly.
The little vixen, now she’s going to humiliate me, he thought with inward rage. Aloud he spoke evenly. “And what is that?”
“That you will not call to thank me for this day’s work. It is forgotten as it is done. Are we agreed?”
“Yes, Miss Montgomery, we are agreed.” His gaze fell on her serious brown eyes which promised him that the tale would not be spread. He stretched an unclad arm through the window and she gave him her gloved hand which he took in a firm grasp and shook as though she were a man. He retained it a moment, looked her directly in the eye, and said, “I shall thank you now, then. I am in your debt.”
“Not at all. I think Charity was tiring of all my churches and historic buildings.” She smiled kindly at him. “You have served my family many a good turn, and I am grateful to have the opportunity to reciprocate. Good day, Lord Winterton.”
“Good day, Miss Montgomery.” He watched her link arms with Charity and walk purposefully down the road. Perhaps I have misjudged her, he thought, but he was not quite convinced.
Kate spoke not a word to her companion until they were out of Small Street. “I would not for the world have laughed at him,” she gurgled, “but I think I have never in my life seen anything so amusing,” and she broke into gales of laughter, in which her friend joined unrestrainedly. When they had wiped their streaming eyes and the last of the giggles had been suppressed, they finally walked on toward the stables where the cabriolet and horse were housed. “I know I need not ask you not to breathe a word of this, Charity. I would not have him brought down as the butt of such a joke.”
Charity turned to her friend and laid a hand on her arm. “You were truly kind to him, Kate, and I know he is a thorn in your flesh. I hope he is appreciative.”
“Goodness, your praise is too generous. My family owes him much, and this was a splendid opportunity to repay him. Perhaps he will show me less animosity in the future. On the other hand, he may be worse for having been put in such a position before me. I am sure even the noble Earl of Winterton was suffering from acute embarrassment, and one cannot blame him. That sheet!”
She was forced to stop again for a moment until she could suppress her laughter.
Although all this merriment slowed their progress somewhat in town, once they were out of Bristol, Kate sprang the horse a bit, saying she did not wish Winterton’s discomfort to last longer than necessary. When they reached Winter Manor, Kate stepped down and left Charity in possession of the reins while she approached the house. She was familiar with the elderly butler and greeted him kindly. “How are you, Manner? Has your rheumatism been acting up?”
“I have been right fine, Miss Montgomery. Pleased that spring is coming on, though.”
“I wonder if I might beg a word with Mr. Single.”
“Certainly. I shall send him to you in the White Parlor,” he offered as he ushered her into that elegant salon.
Thomas Single was not overly concerned that Winterton had not returned the night before. It would not be the first time he had driven off to Bristol one morning not to return until the next. But the afternoon was advancing by now and he was, if not worried, at least rather surprised, especially since his employer’s interest in the young woman in Small Street had certainly seemed to be on the wane. Thomas had not, for instance, been instructed to renew the lease for the house.
When Manner announced that Miss Montgomery awaited him in the White Parlor he gave no indication that this was in any way exceptional, though they were both aware that it was. He proceeded to the parlor and greeted her warmly, for they had known each other for years.
“I shall not keep you in suspense, Mr. Single,” Kate began, “for I know you must be perplexed to find me here. I come to bring you a note from Lord Winterton which he directed that I put into your hands alone. I shall not detain you, for it is a most urgent matter. Charity is waiting in the carriage. Good day.”
“Good day, Miss Montgomery,” he replied, as he held the door open for her and left her in Manner’s hands. He turned back into the room and unfolded the disreputable note. Alone, he did not refuse himself the luxury of a good laugh, but he had a genuine regard and affection for his employer and set hastily about collecting the money, clothing, shaving tackle, and food requested in the note. He was able to release the Earl from his particular bondage within the hour.
“For having seen me in the most ludicrous situation of my life,” Winterton declared to his secretary as they approached the Manor, “my rescuers have acted with admirable restraint. I expected such consideration of you, Thomas, but certainly not of Miss Montgomery.”
“You have never held the young woman in the highest regard, sir, though for my part I think she is deserving of it.”
“She accepted a legacy—a very handsome legacy, I might add—from my brother although she had refused to marry him.”
“It was Carl who made the legacy, sir, and there are few who would have refused it.”
“She should have,” Winterton retorted stubbornly, and lapsed into silence.
The Earl and his secretary did not pursue the subject further, and each kept an ear open for possible rumors of the former’s adventure, but there were none. Miss Montgomery had been as good as her word.
* * * *
Kate had other matters to concern her. Now that March was here, it was time for Susan to prepare for her London season in earnest. Charity threw herself into these activities for the final days of her stay. She avoided Ralph when possible and was kind but diffident when in his presence. Kate determined to keep them all busy with shopping expeditions, rides, and drives about the neighborhood.
Ralph came to Kate one morning after breakfast, agitatedly pulling his gloves through his hands. “I know you refuse to take a part in my . . . endeavors, Kate, but I cannot bear for her to go without seeing the farm. Promise you I shall not upset her or importune her. I just want her to view the land and the horses we’re starting with. Would you support me if I suggested a drive there later?”
His beseeching eyes brought an immediate response. “Certainly, Ralph. Just do not try to be alone with her, for she does not seem to wish that.”
“Thank you, Kate. I promise I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”
Kate was aware of Charity’s hesitation when the matter was raised.
“I must do some packing, for I shall be leaving early tomorrow,” Charity responded quickly.
“I know, my love, but I shall help you immediately when we come back. I long to see the farm again, and I do not wish to part with you on our last afternoon together. Do say you will come.”
“Why, of course, Kate, if you wish it,” Charity agreed softly.
Kate took her arm and chatted easily of all manner of entertaining things while they prepared for
the drive. They rode over in a closed carriage but emerged into warm spring sunlight and walked about the place while Ralph pointed out the pertinent features and asked Kate’s advice on various matters. Kate was delighted to see that the countryside was beginning to respond to the spring weather, buds were poking out, and the last of the snow had melted from the wooded areas. Improvements were already starting on the stable, and the horses chosen were admirable beasts. Ralph spoke more knowledgeably about the raising of crops and was, in fact, unable to disguise his love of the place.
Benjamin rode up midway through their tour and called, “Well, Kate, what do you think of it? We’ve found an excellent tenant, too. And aren’t the horses splendid?”
“A very promising start. I envy you. Is the stream the boundary of the property?”
“Yes, Winterton’s land is on the other side,” Ralph said, pointing westward. “Stream’s quite deep in some places, and in the summer the trees on the banks will provide shade. Nice spot for a picnic,” he suggested, and could not keep from glancing at Charity.
“Are there fish in the stream?” she asked to divert his attention.
“Tons of ‘em,” Benjamin laughed. “Well, enough to give a little sport.”
They wandered on, Benjamin with Kate and Ralph with Charity. Benjamin was full of plans and dug his booted toe into the earth to show Kate how rich it was. He reached down to crumble it through his bare hands. She pretended dismay at the soiling of his hands, and shock at his wiping them on his pale buckskins. He protested he was no town beau to worry about such things. Their banter effectively covered the conversation of the couple ahead of them.
“Will you be staying long in Bath with your mother?” Ralph asked after a long silence.
“Just for another week. Mama is anxious now to get home, as she misses Papa.”
“You live in Daventry all year? You don’t go to London ever?”
“Not as a rule. I’ve been there several times with Papa, and once with Mama, too.”
“I was thinking of going to London for a while during the season since Susan is to have her come-out.”
“Have you been there often?”
“Enough. Can’t say I’d be much help to Susan, though. All my friends there are clothheads like me,” he said despondently.
Charity laughed. “You should not be so ridiculous. You are nothing of the sort, and you must know it.” She stopped speaking abruptly.
Ralph’s eyes showed a flash of hope. “I thought perhaps . . .” He could not miss the alarm which distorted her oval face. “No matter. You know my Aunt Eleanor well, I believe.”
“Yes, she’s a neighbor and a great help to Papa in the parish. You have not as yet met Mr. Hall, have you? I think you’ll like him.”
By now Kate and Benjamin had caught up with them, and Charity was grateful that she no longer was required to put Ralph off or change subjects when he pursued avenues she must not discuss. She could not bear to see the look of disappointment that crossed his countenance nor observe the dejected slope of his shoulders as he read the unspoken rejection lying beneath the surface of her tactful words.
Chapter 11
Kate felt a decided depression of spirits as she waved to Charity until the stagecoach was out of sight. She knew that Ralph had wanted to come to see Charity off, but Kate had refused him, and she felt guilty when confronted with his bleak, unhappy expression.
Her friend’s visit had managed to divert Kate’s mind from consideration of the future, which must now concern her. She had spent several happy years with her aunt and had returned to her family willingly to share in their interests. But Susan was off to London soon, and Ralph was sure to throw himself into the farm. Mr. Montgomery was so pleased with Ralph’s newly-found interest in farming and the estates that he spent less time with his daughter and inadvertently cut her off from her source of enjoyment in the land.
There were still visits to sick or injured tenants, but they hardly occupied the whole of her time. Mrs. Montgomery was thoroughly wrapped up in Susan’s debut, as could only be expected; and though she left Kate to run the house, once Kate had set things to rights, there was really not so much to do there, either.
The occupation of sewing and embroidering as a full-time pursuit bored Kate. She loved playing the pianoforte and the dulcimer, but they were relaxations for her and she had no serious intent with them. She had enjoyed her travels most of all and had kept journals of her impressions and experiences. Aunt Eleanor’s drawings had provided illustrations, and they had sometimes half-jokingly, half-seriously considered the possibility of putting a book together. But Aunt Eleanor’s marriage had halted those thoughts, and Kate did not wish to revive them at this point. Her aunt was like to be far too occupied to even remember them.
Kate had almost, but not quite, been able to tell her father that she dreamed of purchasing the Drew farm for herself. She realized he would be only slightly less shocked than everyone else if she were to do such an outrageous thing. Yet she had the capital and the enthusiasm to engage profitably in such an enterprise. But it would be an embarrassment to her family, and she shrank from so ungrateful an action.
There was very little for a gentlewoman to do, she thought ruefully, except get married and raise a brood of children and manage a household. Would that be satisfying? Would I feel I had accomplished something? I guess one cannot know until one has tried it, she thought. But even marriage looked less likely than ever before. No suitor had thus far really roused her interest, much less touched her heart.
Mr. Montgomery had persuaded her to journey to London with the rest of the family. She had consented only on the understanding that she would return when he did, leaving Susan to have her season unmarred by an aging spinster sister. The trip would provide an entertaining week or two, but it would not solve the dilemma she was trying to solve now. She wanted to do something interesting, rewarding, useful.
Immersed in her thoughts, she led the maid Betsy in and out of shops as she executed commissions for her mother, sister, and brother. These errands took no thought or energy; they were a dull routine. She decided to purchase Ralph something to cheer him, and strolled into a print shop. It might be fun, she thought, to own such a shop. She surveyed the counter and walls strewn with black-and-white and colored prints, inspected the window front, and wondered about the quarters behind the shop.
“Thinking of buying it, Miss Montgomery?”
Startled, she turned to face Winterton and blushed slightly. “Actually, I was thinking something like that. I was wondering what it would be like to own such a place. But it is nonsense, of course. Idle speculation.”
“You could afford to do so, of course, but I doubt that your family would approve, ma'am.”
“It seems to me, sir, that there is very little one can do to any purpose of which one’s family or friends would approve.”
“Marriage is the only suitable course for young women,” he retorted.
“Well, you know, that seems a very limited prospect to me.” Taunted by his exaggerated expression of shock, she continued coldly, but with a blush, “Mary Wollstonecraft called it legal prostitution. Not a very tempting prospect at all.”
Winterton narrowed his eyes. “I doubt your parents would approve of your reading Wollstonecraft, either, Miss Montgomery.”
“Do you think you should tell them, Lord Winterton? For my own good, of course.”
“You are being insolent.”
“And you are being patronizing. I am three and twenty and quite capable of deciding what I shall read.”
“I doubt most women are capable of an intelligent choice of reading material.”
“I assure you your opinion is of not the slightest interest to me. If you will excuse me, I have changed my mind and shall not purchase a print today.” Kate wheeled and headed for the door with skirts swishing in an angry hiss.
“Miss Montgomery, a moment,” Winterton ordered, but Kate ignored him and slammed the door behind her. H
is lengthy strides overtook her before she was two doors away, Betsy trudging in her furious wake. He took Kate’s elbow in a firm grasp and rasped, “I asked you to stay a moment.”
Kate attempted to shake off his hand, but he retained a tight hold. “You did not ask me; you commanded me. I am not one of your wards to calmly accept a raking down from you.”
“It has but just occurred to me that I have never repaid the loan you made me,” he explained calmly, digging in his pocket.
“Well, be sure to pay me in the streets, your lordship, where it cannot possibly be misconstrued,” she snapped and, giving a final shake to her elbow, easily dislodged his hand in his surprise. She once again proceeded on her way, Betsy bewildered and alarmed beside her.
“Oh, ma’am, how you did speak to him,” the maid said, awed.
“And so would you were someone so rude to you,” Kate laughed. She had more than once heard Betsy tell the youngest footman to mind his tongue.
“But the Earl of Winterton, ma’am,” Betsy protested.
“He is no different from other men, Betsy, and—”
“Now that is very true,” the judicious voice on her other side said.
“Lord Winterton, I am sure I have made it clear that I do not desire your company. However, should you wish me to spell it out, I shall.”
“Miss Montgomery, I am sure you would be the first to insist that I run by no inclination but my own. However, I wish to apologize for my rudeness.”
“I don’t want your apology, sir.”
“Miss Martin-Smith would not approve of such behavior,” he responded, his bland expression fixed on her face.
Kate flushed, cast her eyes down, and said sweetly, “But my friend Charity has not spent such a great deal of time being taunted by you, my lord.”
“No, indeed. I’m sure no one has ever had the least desire to taunt her,” he agreed.
“I’m sorry she has left,” Kate said suddenly. “It is not only Ralph’s disposition she keeps on an even keel.”
The Seventh Suitor Page 9
