“I am practical enough, Mama, when there is a need of it. But I do not need to be practical about the loss of my father. He is more than a few months of mourning to me, even now when he is no longer with us. It pains me that you are not struck in the same way.”
“You do not know what does or does not strike me, Ella.” Ariadne glared at her, her dark brown eyes glassy and her features seeming to become more pointed than ever.
It was a tone and countenance which Ella recognized with ease. Ariadne had a vaguely aggressive manner when she could not add anything of worth to an argument and instead sought to put the whole thing to an end.
But Ella had seen and heard it all before and was not fooled by any of it. And she knew exactly what did and did not strike her mother, even if Ariadne herself seemed so sure that she did not.
“Mama, the Earl of Dandridge does not have a reputation as a good man.” Ella was not about to let it go. “He is not spoken of warmly in society.”
“Men of power and wealth seldom are my dear. It is just the way of the world, and you will one day come to recognize the petty jealousies of others,” Ariadne said in a condescending way as she treated her daughter to a smile which suggested she was simply tolerating her daughter’s ignorance of the way of things.
“So, you think that people only talk ill of him because they are jealous? That they say that he is a man of no loyalty and short temper simply because he is more wealthy and powerful than they are? All of them, Mama?” Ella spoke incredulously, keen to let her mother know that she was not as naive in such matters as she had been accused. “Or do you perhaps hear and see what it is you wish to hear and see, Mama?”
“I have seen nothing in Ronald Bellville’s character which would make me suspect that he is anything other than a good man,” Ariadne said defiantly.
“I think you are just determined to see him so, Mama.”
“And why is that? Why would I be so determined to see him as a good man if he is not?”
“Because I believe that you wish to marry him, Mama.”
“And why would I wish to marry a man if I did not truly think him good?”
“I do not know,” Ella said although the truth of the matter was that she did know.
But, at that moment, Ella could not imagine how it was she would say to her mother outright that she believed her a title hunter, an ambitious woman with little or no regard for the memory of her very fine husband and the welfare and happiness of her own daughter. For that was exactly how Ella saw it, and she knew, deep down, that it was the truth.
Ella was not a naive young woman, far from it. She had a keen intellect and was an extraordinarily good judge of character. These were things that she thanked her father for, blessings which he had passed down to her, she was sure.
And, having only met Ronald Belville on the two occasions he had attended her mother at home, Ella had judged that every misgiving the people of their acquaintance had about the Earl was true. It was not anything he had said, nor anything he had done, but there was something about the man which spoke of an ill temper and ruthlessness that Ella did not want to become any better acquainted with.
“Then you will agree that you are simply being silly, my dear.” Ariadne smiled triumphantly.
Ella was so antagonized that she almost told her everything that had crossed her mind there and then, without sparing her feelings at all.
Instead, she took a deep breath and held it, just as her father had always taught her, and rose from her seat to cross the drawing room and look out of the window.
As Ella stared out across the beautiful gardens, so natural and free, allowing a little disorder here and there, she was struck by the awful feeling that Longton Manor might not be her home for very much longer.
There were trees everywhere and such wonderful arrangements of beds, many of which contained wildflowers. Lord Winfield had always been keen on the garden and had developed a long and respectful relationship with the old gardener, Jameson. Between them, they had created a garden that was just out of the common way. It did not quite conform to the neatness and rigidity that was the current fashion; a fashion which always seemed to Ella to make the outside world look like the inside world. People were so keen to show off fine gardens that they had almost become akin to well-decorated drawing rooms.
But the grounds at Longton Manor were a wonderful break with the new tradition. They spoke to Ella of nature and true beauty, instead of the peacock form of beauty which always seemed to thrive by denying nature instead of embracing it.
To society now, nature was something to be tamed, to be controlled. It had to be cut away and held in check, with every blade of grass standing to attention at exactly the same height as its neighbour. Where was the real beauty in that?
“Mama,” Ella began again in a cautious tone. “We have everything we need here. We have been fortunate that the Manor and all of Papa’s money has been left to us. We have a fine home and our circumstances, in terms of wealth and security, have not changed because Papa has passed.”
“I know,” Ariadne said a little impatiently.
No doubt she thought she had won the argument for that day.
“We do not need to search for security elsewhere.”
“And you think I am searching for security with the Earl of Dandridge?” She arched her eyebrows so high that she looked like a different woman altogether.
“Perhaps.” Ella could feel her confidence waning as she looked at her mother’s fierce expression.
“I do not need security, Ella. But I do want something more than this.” She spread her arms wide and looked disdainfully around her.
“More than this?” Ella was hurt and offended, and it was clear in her voice.
“Oh, you are too much your father’s daughter. You are so painfully content with everything around you that you frustrate me almost as much as he did.” Ariadne was forgetting herself.
“This is a fine home, Mama, and Papa was a fine man.” Ella felt anger surge through her. “How can you look around you with such dissatisfaction?”
“Because I want more than this. I am tired of making do.”
“How on earth can this life we have here be described as making do? Papa provided well for us both. We have never been without any of the things we wanted or needed. I have never had to make do, as you put it Mama, and neither have you.”
“Do not raise your voice, Ella.”
“Forgive me, Mama, but I am so frustrated. I feel as if you are insulting Papa and everything he did for you.”
“Oh, because I was a governess, you think I ought to be grateful?”
“Not grateful, Mama, but gracious, yes. You talk as if Papa has done you some great disservice all these years. And you talk as if we are in the gutter when the Winfields are a fine old family of wealth and standing.”
“You have no ambition for yourself at all.” Ariadne rose from the neat brocade covered couch and made her way to the fireplace. She pulled the bell rope for tea and turned back to look at her daughter. “I dread to think what sort of a match you might make one day.”
“When I marry, Mama, it will be for love.”
“Then you are as much a fool as your father raised you to be. Really, the times I begged him to urge you into one direction or another regarding a suitable husband, but no, he would not have his precious daughter forced in any way, even for her own good,” she huffed loudly. “And now, here you are, a woman of twenty years with no suitors on the horizon and a romantic notion that the best marriages are made for love alone, without any thought to status, wealth, or the future.”
“Is status so important to you, Mama? After all, you are already a baroness.”
“A Baroness? What is that when I might be a …” At the last moment, Ariadne remembered herself.
“A countess?” Ella supplied a little sarcastically. “After all, if you married the Earl of Dandridge, that is what you would be. You would no longer be Baroness Winfield, but the Coun
tess of Dandridge.” Ella’s voice was almost a whisper.
Would her mother finally admit the truth to her? Or would she continue to try to hide it?
“There is nothing wrong with wanting better, Ella.” Ariadne’s tone was much calmer than Ella had been expecting; it was almost peaceful.
“There is no man on this earth better than my father was.” Ella felt treacherous; she hated her mother at that moment.
“You have a good deal of growing up to do, my dear.”
“No, I do not.” Ella rose from her seat to leave the room.
“Where are you going? I have sent for tea.” Her mother had such a total lack of awareness that she looked most aggrieved that her daughter would think to leave when tea was coming.
“I do not want to sit with you,” Ella said truthfully. “You have already decided to marry Ronald Belville, and the rest is simply a shallow adherence to propriety. You are waiting out your one year, and that is all. And you are waiting it out most impatiently as if the whole thing is not so much grieving as it is an inconvenience.”
“If I marry the Earl, then that is my choice and not yours. But you should think carefully, my dear. After all, you would be coming with me to live in Dandridge Hall.” Incredibly, Ariadne began to sound excited. “Just think of that! What a fine life you would have in so great a mansion.”
“I could not bear to leave Longton Manor. I care nothing for fine mansions and every luxury. I want my life here in the home of my father.”
“If I marry, it will no longer be the home of your father.”
Ella felt suddenly hot and nauseous. She had not even thought about the fate of Longton Manor if her mother married again. But, of course, everything that was now theirs would instantly become the property of the Earl the moment he married her mother.
They would be at that man’s mercy for their safety and security; they would literally be giving up everything. And why? So that her selfish, ambitious mother could be known by all as the Countess of Dandridge and have even more servants at her disposal than she already did.
And Ella would be forced to live in a strange house with a man she did not like and a family she did not yet know.
“Mama, please, you must think about this. We would have nothing of our own anymore. We would be at that man’s mercy.”
“You silly girl! We would have everything our hearts desire!”
“No, we would have everything your heart desires, Mama, not mine. You do not know what is in my heart.”
“And at this moment, I do not care to,” Ariadne said sharply. “For you are not being very sensible and you do not deserve my consideration if you are going to behave like this.”
“I do not remember having your consideration before, Mama, so I shall not notice its loss.”
“Perhaps you should leave now. I do not think I care to take tea with you after all.” Ariadne turned to look across the drawing room, casually dismissing her daughter as if she were staff.
Without another word, Ella quietly made her way out of the drawing room.
Chapter 2
Rufus Darnley sat behind his great oak desk in the study at Hillington Hall, his elbows leaning heavily on a stack of papers whilst he rested his chin in his hands.
“Your Grace, I think it is a very wise decision.” Henry Mercer, the attorney, looked at the Duke of Hillington through grey, kindly looking eyes. “After all, at five and thirty, I daresay the time has come.”
“Yes, I am sure it has, Henry.” There was something defeated in his tone, something so resigned as if he were being led up the steps to the gallows. “I suppose I had always thought that I might one day happen across a young woman I had something in common with.”
“I think it is so rare a thing, Your Grace, that to act practically is a very much more sensible solution. At least when you approach the thing with common sense, you are able to choose a young lady on her qualities, her very suitability to be your wife. I am afraid that when the heart is followed, such common sense flies out of the window.”
“I cannot tell whether your words are making me feel better or worse, Henry. There is a part of me which applauds your practicality on the issue, and another which feels as if all hope is squashed.” Rufus laughed.
“I think hope comes with practicality, your Grace.” Henry Mercer laughed also.
It had been a very long time coming, but Rufus felt a certain sense of relief now that he had enlisted his attorney’s help in the matter of finding himself a suitable bride. At five and thirty, the time really was drawing near that he ought to produce an heir to the Duchy. With nothing but very distant male relations to inherit should anything happen to him, Rufus felt the sudden weight of responsibility.
After all, his own very fine father had been proud to have a son to whom he could pass the title which had been in their family for generations. To not produce an heir of his own would be to let his father down, Rufus was certain of it.
And, despite the fact that his own dear father had been dead for fifteen years now, still, he missed him greatly and wished to please him, even though he was not on the earth to see it.
“Henry, what you say makes a good deal of sense. I suppose it is time for me to let go of the notions which have hung around me for so many years. I have wasted too much time waiting for a woman of sense to come along, one who attracts me with wit and intelligence instead of fine gowns and over-made faces. After all, it has been many years that I have searched for such a woman to no avail. Perhaps it is time to take the commonsense approach.”
“And when it becomes known that you are looking for a bride, you will have your pick of all the county, Your Grace.” Henry smiled, his ageing face crinkling pleasingly as he did so.
“The problem is, I have had the pick of the county ever since I became the Duke, and it has not helped me one bit. In all that time, I have not settled upon a woman who truly attracted me.” He shrugged.
They both knew, of course, that that was not entirely true. The Duke of Hillington had been attracted once, very attracted, and he had been so scorched by the experience that he had spent many years after choosing not to repeat it.
“Ah, but you will be looking with very different criteria from here on in, will you not?”
“To be honest, Henry, I cannot begin to imagine what the criteria would be. What should I be looking for in a good match, in your opinion?” There was not another man on earth of whom Rufus would have asked so open a question, displaying such a great lack of knowledge of his own.
“Well, a good background, obviously.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“A very solvent family.” Henry smiled. “By which I mean very wealthy.”
“Presumably you think that I should be insisting on a very healthy dowry.”
“Absolutely, Your Grace. The Duchy coffers are in good order, of course, but they are so because of many generations of good management and fine marriages. It may not speak to the last vestiges of romance in your soul, Your Grace, but these practicalities ensure the health and wealth of a fine estate like this for generations to come. As considerations go, it is of paramount importance.”
“Well, if you say so,” Rufus said without any conviction, even though he knew the old attorney spoke sense.
Henry Mercer had been an attorney for the Duchy for almost as long as he had been an attorney himself. He had been a young man when the old Duke had retained him as his attorney, long before Rufus himself was even born. Henry Mercer had been a feature in Rufus’ life, a very present figure, and a man who seemed as much a friend to his father as an attorney employed to see to Duchy matters.
Rufus’ father had trusted Henry with everything, and Rufus realized that the time had come for him to lay yet one more matter in the ageing attorney’s hands. The matter of his own matrimony. And, of course, it was not simply a matter of Rufus’ marriage, but the very continuation of the Darnley line as Dukes of Hillington.
“So, what else are we looking f
or?” Rufus said, noting that he needed to move on with it all, to accept the cold practicalities of an arranged marriage.
“We need a sociable young lady, but not too sociable. Someone who will shine at your side at every event without overpowering it with her own personality.”
“That seems like a lot to ask.”
“Not really, again, it is just common sense. People must be pleased to be in your wife’s company, for she will so often be expected to be with you wherever you go. To have a young lady of an agreeable nature is very important indeed, but it is equally important that she does not have so strong a character that that character itself is very obvious to all around.”
A Soulmate for the Heartbroken Duke Page 27
