“Come and sit with me, Kate. Promised Charity I’d give you a chance to dissuade me,” he said with a grin.
“Dissuade you from marrying her? Why?”
“She can’t have children,” he provided succinctly.
Kate regarded him with fascination. “And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Of course it bothers me. Not enough not to marry her, though. Lord, Kate, Aunt Eleanor never had a solitary chick. Lots of women never have any. Only difference is that Charity knows. She’s been offered for twice, and both of them were scared off by it. I love her, Kate.”
Kate sighed. “I know you do. She has agreed to marry you, then?”
“If I don’t change my mind by tomorrow, she will. Told her I’d let you try to talk me out of it. Do your best,” he offered handsomely.
Kate laughed. “Silly fellow. Mama and Papa will be disappointed about the children, of course, but they are very fond of Charity. What else did she say?”
“She was concerned that I like youngsters, but I told her you and Susan would share yours with us.”
“How thoughtful of you,” Kate murmured.
“And of course she worried about the name and the estates. Well, it’s not as though there was a title to pass on, you know, and I don’t believe it would matter to me if there were. I told her there were sufficient Montgomerys in the country.”
Kate leaned over to hug her brother and plant a salute on his cheek. “Oh, Ralph, I am so proud of you.”
Ralph’s embarrassment was obvious, but he managed to mutter, “Thank you, my dear. Will you come with me to choose a ring for her? I don’t know the least thing about such baubles. Like to take it with me tomorrow.”
“Of course. We can go right now.” Kate hesitated for a moment. “You do not want to discuss it with Aunt Eleanor or Uncle Hall?”
“No, dear girl. I only promised to speak with you for Charity’s sake. Told her it was my decision. And it is, you know.”
“Yes, Ralph, and a very good one,” Kate said as she rose with a smile. “Let’s be off.”
The next morning Charity was seated once more in the parlor alone. She clenched her hands nervously when she heard the knock at the door and forced herself to remain seated until Ralph was ushered into the sunlit room. He smiled at her and unceremoniously thrust a jeweler’s box into her hands, saying only, “Open it, my love.”
Her eyes sparkled with tears as she lifted the lid to find a magnificent emerald ring. “Know I should have asked your father’s permission first, but in the circumstances . . .” He placed the ring on her finger and clasped her to him. She sobbed against his shoulder, and he dug once more for a handkerchief. “No more tears, love. I’m running out of handkerchiefs.”
Charity gave a teary chuckle and smiled shyly. “Oh, Ralph, I am so happy. You’re sure?”
“Never more so. Love you, you know.”
Charity’s lips trembled, but her eyes sparkled joyfully as she sighed, “And I love you. I never did anything so difficult in my life as refuse you at the Hall.”
Ralph kissed her shyly and felt near to bursting with his happiness. After a moment he stepped back and said firmly, “I should talk with your father. Is he here?”
“I’ll take you to him in the library. I have told him about you, Ralph, but I did not tell him you offered for me at the Hall. Of course he knows your aunt and uncle and Kate. You need not mention the . . . problem. I will speak with my parents about that later.” They were at the library door, and Ralph made an ineffective effort to straighten his cravat. Charity worked it into place and tapped on the door. They were bidden to enter.
Ralph was relieved at sight of the gentle cleric who rose to greet them. “This is my papa, Ralph. Papa, Ralph Montgomery, Kate’s brother.”
“How do you do, sir? I hope we don’t intrude?” Ralph asked conscientiously.
“Not at all,” Mr. Martin-Smith said with a smile. “I have heard of you from your sister and aunt, and of course from my daughter.” Seeing that Ralph was feeling rather awkward, he asked kindly, “Is there something I can do for you?”
“With your permission, I should like to marry Charity,” Ralph blurted.
“Well, that is straightforward enough,” Mr. Martin-Smith admitted with a smile.
Charity said gently, “I have accepted him, Papa. We want your blessing and Mama’s. I will leave you now to talk with Ralph.” She gave Ralph a reassuring squeeze of the hand and a smile before she departed.
“I beg your pardon, sir. Didn’t mean to be so abrupt. I have the highest regard for your daughter,” Ralph stammered.
“Sit down, young man. If I recall the procedure correctly, I should now ask you of your prospects. Is that right?”
Ralph grinned. “Daresay it is. Never been through this before, you understand.” And he proceeded to enlighten Charity’s encouraging father about himself, his family, and his “prospects.” Mr. Martin-Smith then sent for his wife and introduced Ralph to her.
“I have approved Mr. Montgomery’s offer for Charity,” he informed her, “and have given them my blessing. Charity,” he said, with dancing eyes, “has already accepted him.”
“I am so pleased to meet you, Mr. Montgomery. Charity spoke highly of you when she returned to Bath. And Kate is a favorite with all of us, of course.” She seated herself and spoke with him for a while, in her soft, calm voice. Ralph was reminded of his beloved. He felt immediately at ease with her, and she was pleased with him.
Charity was sent for, and her father and mother assured her that she had their blessing. “Now be off with you and inform Kate and Mr. and Mrs. Hall,” the vicar urged. “And don’t forget to discuss when you wish to be married.”
It was only a matter of minutes before Kate was hugging her friend and congratulating the radiant couple. Aunt Eleanor and Uncle Hall added their wishes for happiness and suggested that the young couple might like to have some time to themselves in the garden, an offer they gratefully accepted.
When Uncle Hall left them together, Kate and her aunt discussed the outcome. “I was not sure,” Aunt Eleanor sighed, “that they would come to this conclusion. Not many young men of family are willing to face the prospect of having no heir.”
“I know,” Kate replied. “I was very proud of Ralph for his decision. He is very fond of children, and promised Charity that Susan and I would share ours with them.”
“I suppose I am overly sensitive to the subject,” Aunt Eleanor mused. “I had expected to present Sir John with innumerable offspring, and I felt for a while that I had failed. But, you know, it did not spoil our lives together. He never reproached me; in fact, there were times when he confessed that he was pleased there were just the two of us.”
“I’m sure he was. You have been very lucky, my dear. Do you suppose Ralph will remember to write our parents?”
“I doubt it. You will have to remind him. I hope you’ll both stay on for some time so that he and Charity can enjoy getting to know each other better.”
“And so that I can try to rid you of Uncle Hall’s housekeeper?”
“That, too, of course,” Aunt Eleanor admitted with a grin.
“I think I had best start on the project, now that I am not needed to provide support to either Ralph or Charity. Tell me about the tenant you’ve found for your old house.”
* * * *
Kate was frequently invited to join Charity and Ralph on their expeditions, and occasionally she accepted. At other times she visited the various shops, especially the chandler’s, and delved into their workings, making notes and urging her aunt to do some drawings for her. She assisted Mr. Martin-Smith with the parish work Charity usually did in an effort to free her friend’s time. And she set about her most important task, freeing her aunt from Uncle Hall’s dreaded housekeeper.
Since Mrs. Higgins was a model housekeeper and was not willing to take Eleanor Hall’s hints that she exchange places with Mrs. Moore, Kate determined on a strategy where Mrs. Higgins would su
ggest the change herself. With Mrs. Moore’s connivance, the bachelor General’s household was allowed to degenerate to the point where he came to Mr. Hall with complaints of the food, lack of heat, and general disorderliness. On hearing of this state of affairs Mrs. Higgins found an excuse to visit her rival’s establishment and was genuinely horrified, but Eleanor Hall would hear nothing of her dire comments, saying agitatedly, “To be sure, but you must understand that Mrs. Moore is used to instruction. She cannot handle everything without guidance, and I was used to give it to her.”
When Eleanor found it necessary to go around to the General’s each day and offer Mrs. Moore a guiding hand, it was left to Kate to assume her aunt’s responsibilities at home, and she had a few suggestions to make based on her experience at the Hall. Several days of this new regime led Mrs. Higgins to seek an interview with her mistress in which she offered what she thought might prove a solution to the problem, and so the two housekeepers were finally switched.
Chapter 18
Letters arrived regularly from London, both before and after Ralph’s announcement to his family. Mrs. Montgomery proclaimed her joy at the news; Susan wrote that she could not ask for a better sister-in-law. Mr. Montgomery’s letter from the Hall was enthusiastic. He alone had been advised of the probability of a childless marriage, and his acceptance of this situation was enough to bring tears to Charity’s eyes when Ralph showed her the letter.
“You father is such an understanding man,” she confided to Kate. “I hope your mother will be able to accept it, too.”
“Never fear, my love,” Kate assured her. “Mama is so pleased that I doubt anything could diminish her happiness. Ralph will tell her when next he sees her.”
Kate had received a letter from her father as well, in which he disclosed his intention of buying Benjamin Karst out of the farm as a wedding present for Ralph. Benjamin, he informed her, was not adverse, as the new endeavor had inspired him with an interest in his Yeovil estate and he had recently determined to see to its management himself for a time. Mr. Montgomery urged Kate to return to the Hall so that she could assist with the farm until Ralph returned.
“So you see, Aunt Eleanor, I must leave once again. I have enjoyed my stay tremendously, but I long to be in the country for a while.”
“Kate love, you have been of no small service to me.”
“Well, I daresay we all relished our acting abilities for a few days there. I’m glad Mrs. Moore is with you once again. It certainly feels more comfortable with her around. And I am sure the General will do better with Higgins.”
“He has already professed himself quite overcome by her efficiency,” Aunt Eleanor sighed. “And when I walked over the other day to see how she was going on, she actually preened at her establishment. Frankly, for all her stubbornness, I think she’ll be far happier there.”
“No doubt.” Kate wandered about the room, touching the Staffordshire figures and the Sheraton cabinet brought from her aunt’s home. She could not help remembering the years they had spent together, traveling at times and then returning to enjoy life in Daventry. She knew her aunt was happy now, and she was pleased for her. But Kate herself was feeling restless and displaced, and she wished to return to the Hall. “If you can lend me a maid, Aunt Eleanor, I think I will leave tomorrow.”
“So soon, my dear?” Her aunt eyed her with concern. “You would not rather wait until Ralph is ready to leave?”
Kate smiled suddenly. “Heaven knows when that may be! If he follows his inclination, he will remain here until they wed in August.”
“I feel sure your father will bid him home for some time before that.”
“Of course. And he will have things to see to there. But I would be off now, and I do not wish to rush him.”
“As you will, dear. Trudy would welcome the trip, I’m sure.”
Kate left, as she intended, the following day in spite of protests from Ralph and Charity. She hugged her friend warmly and told her she had spent much longer than she intended already, for May was fast advancing.
“It will not be long now before I have you as a sister and see you frequently,” Kate said. “And I shall return early for the wedding to be of whatever help I can to you. Papa could use some company now.”
“Yes, I am being selfish,” Charity admitted. “Have a safe trip, my dear.”
When the maid Trudy had fallen asleep in the post-chaise across from her, Kate retrieved from her reticule the letters she had received from Susan. Her sister’s accounts of the London season were filled with balls, routs, cards parties, picnics, and rides in the park with Lord Norris.
Patrick O’Rourke and Laura were much in each other’s company, which alarmed Lady Stockton a bit, Susan thought. Mama was thriving on the attention she was receiving from her old friends, and Susan made sure that she did not exhaust herself. They saw Lord Winterton frequently, and he was ever pleasant to them, Susan commented wonderingly. Kate returned the letters to her reticule and gazed out the window.
* * * *
“What the hell are we doing in London, Thomas?” Winterton asked his secretary one day.
“I think we are looking out for Miss Susan, sir,” Thomas replied blandly.
“The devil you say! My ward is doing an admirable job of that, without the least need of any assistance. I expect him to appear any day to ask my permission to wed the girl.” Winterton paced about the room slapping his gloves against his buff-colored pantaloons. “I’m fatigued with all the simpering beauties and gambling dandies. Did you send Miss Montgomery’s book off to the school?” he asked abruptly.
“Several weeks ago. We have received a grateful letter from Mr. Collins. I put it with your other letters,” Thomas replied with mock reproach.
“We shall return to the Manor tomorrow,” Winterton ordered.
“As you wish, sir. Should I send the usual regrets to the hostesses you will be depriving?”
“Certainly.” Winterton turned to leave, but Thomas stayed him.
“I don’t believe you’ve seen the Morning Post as yet.”
“No.”
“There is an announcement which might interest you,” Thomas replied and folded the paper to the required reading before he handed it to his employer.
For a fraction of a second Winterton felt a painful anxiety which was instantly relieved when he perceived that the Montgomery name in the announcement was Ralph’s.
“She brought it off,” he snorted and calmly returned the paper to his secretary. “We will make an early start in the morning. And, Thomas, send round a note to the Montgomerys asking if we can convey any messages from them to the Hall.”
* * * *
Kate’s journey was uneventful, and she arrived in good spirits at the Hall. Mr. Montgomery greeted her with his usual warmth and immediately involved her in his transactions for Ralph’s farm. They spent a lengthy time discussing Ralph’s engagement and the plans which were being made for the wedding. Kate asked for the latest news from the rest of the family in London.
“Your mama and Susan write nothing but raves of their entertainments there. They will be home in June, after town thins for Brighton. I think your mother misses me, for all the fun she’s having. Perhaps I’ll join them for the last week or two and see them home. Would you like to do that?”
“Perhaps. I must think about it and let you know when the time gets closer, if you don’t mind.”
“Certainly. I imagine you would rather not contemplate another trip when you’ve just arrived home,” Mr. Montgomery suggested.
Kate spent several days pursuing those delights she could not taste so well in Daventry—gallops across the meadows, driving a team into the village, gardening in her mother’s sadly neglected flower patches.
Benjamin Karst rode over to inform them that he had signed the necessary papers and was off to Yeovil “to make my fame and fortune,” as he told Kate when they strolled through the gardens, seeking shade. The sun was beating down unmercifully for so early i
n the season, and Benjamin did not allow his horse to stand for long. He placed an awkward salute on her cheek, promised to write, and begged her to offer Ralph his most sincere congratulations, before he waved his farewell.
Squinting in the sunlight to watch his retreating figure, Kate remembered a slender, ancient volume that she had found when traveling in France, and she immediately ascended to her room to dig it out from her other travel mementoes. This took a little time, as she had never spent the necessary hours organizing her treasures, but she came at last upon the book by M. Thevenot. Tucking it into her reticule, she went to the library to inform her father that she was riding over to Ralph’s farm and would return in time for dinner. He absentmindedly acknowledged her remarks and returned to his work.
Kate rode slowly, for the oppressive heat affected even the sorrel mare. As she progressed she kept half an eye on the lane and half an eye on the book she had started to peruse. The volume was called L’Art de Nager, and Kate was fascinated by the idea of learning to swim. She had once seen a man drown for lack of anyone being able to rescue him, and had purchased the book some two years before on an impulse. Aunt Eleanor had teased her that females were allowed only the ridiculous bathing machines at the coastal resorts but Kate had retorted, “One day I shall learn to swim.” Her aunt had cautioned her not to drown in the process, and had thought no more of it.
Upon reaching Ralph’s farm, Kate rode about for a while and checked the progress of the improvements and the state of the fields. A hard spring and more rain than usual had not been felicitous, but the new drainage was a help. When she was satisfied that all was in reasonable order and that there were no men working anywhere near the stream, she seated herself on the bank and practiced the movements suggested by the book. It was exceedingly awkward in her lengthy skirts and, taking one last look about her, she removed the blue muslin riding habit and found the one-piece under garment of muslin with its vest and footed drawers much more comfortable for her chosen activity.
The Seventh Suitor Page 16
