by Mary Nichols
She looked up at him with startled green eyes. ‘I do not hold you in aversion.’
‘But you do not love me.’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Yes, but as your big cousin who carried you on his shoulders when you were very small, who taught you to ride and fish and fall into scrapes, not as a husband.’
‘Mama says…’
‘I do not want to know what your mother says. I want to know what you think. If I was to offer for you, would you throw yourself into my arms in delight or run away and hide and wish you could die rather than share my bed?’
‘Richard!’ she exclaimed, shocked by his bluntness, as he knew she would be.
‘Marriage is for life, my dear,’ he said. ‘You may please your mother, you may even please Grandfather, but you would certainly not be storing up happiness for yourself in marrying me.’
‘I wish you would not roast me so. I have had enough of that already.’
‘I am under pressure too, you know.’
She raised pleading eyes to his. ‘Yes, but you will not give way to it, will you?’
‘You do not wish me to? You would refuse me if I did?’
‘Oh, Richard, please do not ask me, then Mama cannot blame me if it does not come to pass.’
‘Then I won’t. We will remain friends and cousins.’
She jumped off the swing and threw her arms about his neck. ‘Oh, thank you, Richard, thank you. But, you know, Mama will fly into the boughs over it.’
‘Then we shall not tell her of this conversation,’ he said, gently disengaging her. ‘Wait until after your come-out ball because I am sure there will be other young men there more to your liking. Aunt Philippa will come about.’
‘Oh, I do hope so. You see, there is someone…’ He smiled indulgently at her. ‘Is there, now? And am I to be taken into your confidence?’
‘You will not laugh?’
‘Now, why should I do that?’
‘Because he is older than me and has told everyone he is not in the petticoat line, which is a good thing because I must grow up first. But I have known him for years and years…’
‘My dear Emily, you intrigue me. I cannot, for the life of me, think who it might be.’
‘Can you not? You have known him for years and years too. You introduced us the day before you both left for the war…’
‘Martin! Do you mean you have set your cap at Martin Gosport? The sly old dog!’
‘I knew you would laugh.’
‘I am not laughing, my little one. I wish you happy. He will inherit his father’s title one day and, though he is not so wealthy as I shall be, his income is certainly not to be disdained. Your mama can have no objection to him.’
‘You must not say anything to her. It is a secret.’
He took her hand and linked his arm with hers. ‘Then a secret it shall remain until you give me leave to felicitate you. Now, let us go back inside and no more tears, eh?’
Lady Braybrooke, watching them approach the house arm in arm, smiling at each other, felt thoroughly pleased with herself and returned to her escritoire to add the names of Lady Fitzpatrick, Miss Roswell and Miss Hundon to her guest list, as her father-in-law had instructed. It did not matter now and the downfall of those two young ladies would give her immense satisfaction.
Sophie was woken by Anne coming into the room. She had been dreaming of Madderlea, but instead of the usual peace and calm it was the centre of a pitched battle. Guns had been going off and there had been smoke and men falling and screams and she was trying to find someone, moving about in the mêlée, searching faces. The nightmare had been brought on by her conversation with Lord Braybrooke and the talk of fighting and soldiers and memories of her flight from Europe. She shook off the dream and looked at the clock. It was gone six.
‘Her ladyship put off dinner to give you longer to sleep, Miss Sophie, but Cook won’t keep it back above another quarter of an hour, so I came to wake you and help you dress.’
Sophie scrambled off the bed. ‘Goodness, have I slept all afternoon? Whatever will they think of me?’
‘Nothing, why should they?’ She was busy pouring hot water into the washbasin. ‘Her ladyship and Miss Charlotte slept most of the afternoon themselves. It’s what happens when you stay up most of the night. Now, you have a wash while I lay out your clothes. What shall you wear?’
‘The brown striped jaconet, I think. We are not going out and there is to be no company tonight.’
Fifteen minutes later she was dressed and went downstairs.
She had reached the hall and walked across to the dining room door when she heard Lady Fitzpatrick’s voice. She paused with her hand on the doorknob.
‘I hope your cousin is not ailing,’ her ladyship was saying. ‘Why, when I was your age I could stay up all night and think nothing of it.’
‘I believe she did not sleep well, my lady. Anne said she was wandering round the house in the early hours. She took her some hot chocolate.’
‘So she went out shopping as a cure for insomnia. My dear, I know you are very fond of your cousin, but she is not doing you any favours, behaving as she does. She seems to flout every convention. I fear I shall have to write to her papa about it.’
‘Oh, no, my lady, I beg of you not to do that. He will be so displeased.’
‘Displeased with me, I shouldn’t wonder. Not that I haven’t done my best…’
‘And so you have, my dear Lady Fitzpatrick. You have been the very best sponsor we could have had—I should hate having him make us return home with the Season only halfway through. It would be such a waste of time and money and nothing to show for it.’
‘You are right, I cannot let you go back unspoken for. I fully expect Lord Braybrooke to declare himself at your ball. We will contrive to keep your cousin on a tighter rein until then. Do you think Mr Harfield will offer for her? I should like to think I had discharged my duty to you both.’
Sophie went into the room before Charlotte could reply and smiled at them both. ‘Why did you not wake me?’
‘You looked so peaceful,’ Charlotte said, as Lady Fitzpatrick rang the bell for the first course to be served. ‘Anne told us you had not been able to sleep. It was probably all to do with that accident and meeting Monsieur Latour again and Mr Harfield turning up so unexpectedly. And we have no engagements this evening, so we decided to let you sleep. Do you feel refreshed now?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘Did you find what you wanted at Pantheon’s? We went there ourselves, you know, expecting to find you, but there was no sign of you.’
‘I expect we passed each other on the way. I bought some lace and a few yards of muslin. It is being delivered tomorrow.’
‘Sophie, I have told you before about going out alone,’ Lady Fitzpatrick said. ‘It is not the thing, you know. Please don’t do it again.’
‘I came to no harm, my lady.’
‘But you might have. And supposing someone saw you…’
Sophie smiled. ‘Someone did. Lord Braybrooke met me in the street and brought me home in his curricle.’
‘Lord Braybrooke!’ exclaimed Lady Fitzpatrick. ‘And Charlotte not here to receive him. Oh, how mortifying! Did he leave a message?’
‘No, except to say that he had business in Hertfordshire which would keep him out of town for a day or two. He said he hoped to be back in time to join us at Almack’s on Wednesday. And if he did not return in time, he would call on us the next day.’
‘There you are!’ her ladyship exclaimed in triumph. ‘He has gone to visit his grandfather to tell him of his intention to offer for Charlotte and ask his blessing. I knew he was coming to the point, I told you so. Ten to one he will go on to Leicestershire and speak to Mr Hundon too.’
‘Oh, no!’ Both girls spoke together.
‘Why not? You must surely know he must ask your trustee, Charlotte, though I am surprised he has not spoken to me of it first, for I am your sponsor while you are in town.�
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‘Perhaps you mistake the matter,’ Charlotte said, ‘for I am convinced he means to offer for his cousin.’
‘That chit! She is no more than a schoolroom miss. No, no, my dear, that is only a wish of her mama, not realistic at all.’
‘But, my lady, I do not want to marry him.’
‘Fustian! Of course you do. Any girl would.’
‘Ma’am, I do not love him and I am sure he does not love me.’
‘Oh, that is of no consequence. Love will come later, if you are lucky. You must remember you are not like other young ladies who have nothing more than their dowries to recommend them. You have a fortune and a large estate as your portion. You must leave falling in love and such frivolity to your cousin who has no such assets.’
‘I begin to think I am unmarriageable,’ Sophie said, as a servant brought in a tureen of mulligatawny soup.
‘So you will be if you insist on cavorting about town on your own,’ Lady Fitzpatrick retorted. ‘Such behaviour is eccentric and gentlemen of any standing do not like eccentricity in the least. I beg you to conform or you will spoil your cousin’s chances, for they will say it runs in the family.’
‘The last thing I want is to be the cause of Charlotte’s unhappiness, my lady.’ She dare not look at Charlotte for fear of bursting into laughter.
‘Then oblige me by observing the proprieties in future. You may go out with me or with Charlotte, escorted by gentlemen of whom I approve and always chaperoned.’
‘Yes, my lady,’ she said meekly, wondering how she was going to be able to go to Maiden Lane again. Mrs Stebbings could manage the work with her helpers, but when the next month’s rent was due, she would have to be there or arrange for someone else to pay it on her behalf.
Lord Braybrooke sprang immediately to mind. He had said he wanted to help, had offered her his escort and, though he sent her emotions into a wild spin whenever she was near him, she must put her feelings aside and ask him. She would try to behave in a businesslike manner and refuse to let him bait her. But what of the gossip? He had said there was a way to deal with it, though he had not answered when she asked him how.
Oh, if only he had meant that he wanted to marry her. Once the engagement had been announced, the tattlers would lose interest and he could come and go as he pleased. But that was an idle dream. Men of consequence did not like eccentrics and, if Lady Fitzpatrick was right, she was on the way to becoming one. And he had called her a hoyden, a tease, a demirep, someone to amuse him, not to be taken seriously. And when the truth about the switch in identities became known, he would know he had been right in his conjecture. Her spirits were as low as they could possibly be.
Satisfied that she had made her point, Lady Fitzpatrick picked up her spoon and began on the soup. The rest of the meal was eaten with little conversation and afterwards they retired to the drawing room. Charlotte picked up her crewel work, Sophie idly turned the pages of the latest Lady’s Magazine without taking in a word and Lady Fitzpatrick sat reading Miss Austen’s latest novel with the aid of a large magnifying glass. Before long the hand holding the glass dropped and then the book fell to the floor. Her head fell on her chest and light snores told that she was fast asleep.
‘What are we going to do?’ Charlotte whispered.
‘Leave her, she looks comfortable enough.’
‘No, I meant about Lord Braybrooke. You don’t think he means to go to Leicestershire, do you? Papa will think he is offering for you when he speaks of Miss Roswell and he would mean me. Oh, Sophie, what a coil we have got ourselves into.’
‘He isn’t going to Upper Corbury, Charlotte. He told me he knew you and Freddie were in love and he has no intention of coming between you.’
‘Oh, thank goodness. But what about you?’
‘We should not suit. Charlotte, we may both forget all about Viscount Braybrooke.’
‘Why, what else has he said? Oh, Sophie, I am quite sure if he knew the truth, he would offer for you.’
‘If he did that, then I should hold him in contempt, changing his mind just because he has discovered I have a fortune, when he would not dream of having me without it. You remember Lady Gosport telling us about his list of requirements for a wife? I taxed him with it and he did not deny it and when I said I failed in every respect, he did not repudiate that either.’
‘Poor Sophie! But you made a list too, I recollect.’
‘Yes, but that was meant as a jest…’
‘No, it was not, you were in deadly earnest. And as far as I can see, his lordship qualifies perfectly. And you are not so far off a good match for his.’
‘He does not know I have the fortune he requires, nor would I tell him, simply to make him offer for me. Neither would I agree to shut my eyes to infidelity.’
‘I do not believe he is the kind of man to play fast and loose with a lady’s affections. Once married, I dare say he will become a paragon of virtue.’
‘Charlotte, I am beginning to think you are not so averse to him as you pretend.’
‘I never said I was averse to him. He has many qualities I admire, but that does not mean I would marry him.’ She reached out put her hand on Sophie’s arm. ‘Do not give up hope, my love, Lord Braybrooke is being very short-sighted, but he must surely see your worth soon and then all will be well.’
‘How can it be, when we have deceived everyone about who we are? It seemed such a good notion at the time, especially when fate seemed to be on our side with Lady Fitz making the mistake of thinking you were me, but now I realise that it was not only foolish, but really dangerous. I tried to play God and must be punished.’
‘Fustian!’
‘You are forgetting something, Charlotte. You are forgetting that whether he offered for you or for me, he would have to speak to your papa first and as he thinks Uncle William is my father and not yours…’
‘Then the sooner we confess the better.’
‘Yes, but to whom? Do we make an announcement? Do we put a notice in the Gazette or the Morning Post?’
Charlotte suddenly giggled. ‘Tell Lady Gosport, that should do it. Much cheaper and quicker too.’
‘I am glad you can laugh about it.’
Charlotte became serious. ‘Oh, Sophie, I am so sorry. What shall you do?’
‘There is nothing I can do. We shall return to Upper Corbury and the engagement of Miss Hundon to Mr Frederick Harfield will be gazetted and no one will be the wiser. As for Miss Roswell, she will live quietly in retirement, an ape leader and eccentric. If Uncle William does not want to remain my trustee, he will have to appoint someone else. Or sell Madderlea. I shall be able to live in comfort on the proceeds and leave what is left to your children, for they will be as close to me as my own.’
‘Sell Madderlea! Oh, Sophie, you cannot.’ Charlotte’s voice rose in protest and Sophie looked at Lady Fitzpatrick in alarm. She slumbered on.
‘It is that, or accept the first man who offers for me,’ she whispered.
‘I will not let you do it. Something must be done. There are other men, considerate, kindly men who would make good husbands. Lord Braybrooke is not the only fish in the sea.’
‘He is for me.’ And that was the last word she would say on the subject.
A few minutes later Lady Fitzpatrick woke up with a start and straightened her cap. ‘Goodness, how late it is! I think I shall retire and I advise you to do the same. We are out tomorrow evening and at Almack’s on Wednesday and it would never do for you to be seen with dark circles under your eyes. Come along, both of you.’
They rose and followed her upstairs.
Chapter Nine
Almack’s was a disappointment. Everything was so stiff and formal and there was nothing to drink but tea and lemonade. And, what was worse as far as Sophie was concerned, Richard, in black coat, white knee breeches and dazzling white shirt, arrived with Emily clinging to his arm and Lady Braybrooke looking like a cat in a cream bowl.
They were accompanied by an elderly gentl
eman who, in spite of his outmoded satin breeches, high-collared brocade coat and the black wig covering his white hair, had a very formidable presence and the patronesses buzzed round him like bees round a honey pot.
Both girls’ dance cards were soon full, but Sophie perversely kept a dance free in case Richard should ask her to stand up with him. She had been dancing with Sir Peter Somersham and he was escorting her back to her seat when she overheard one of the matrons saying, ‘Yes, I have it from Augusta Greenholme who had it from Philippa Braybrooke herself. He has already offered for his cousin and the announcement is to be made at her come-out ball. It is why His Grace has come to London.’
So that was the reason for his visit to Hertfordshire. He had been summoned by the Duke to account for his tardiness and told to make his cousin an offer and, by the look of her, Viscount Braybrooke had obeyed. Was he so faint-hearted? She did not believe that for a minute. No one would make him do anything he did not want to do and she was forced to conclude that it had been his wish all along.
‘His Grace is still a fine figure of a man, don’t you think?’ Lady Fitzpatrick said, as Sophie and Charlotte joined her between dances. ‘But I never thought to see him here. We must contrive to be presented.’
‘Oh, no, my lady, that would be too presumptuous,’ Charlotte said, while Sophie remained silent. She had supposed that sooner or later Viscount Braybrooke would make an announcement, but however much she had prepared herself for it, she could not stop herself feeling thoroughly downcast.
‘I do not see why that should be. No doubt he has come to bring Lord Braybrooke up to the mark and look over the possibles. I would be failing in my duty if I did not see that you were introduced. There! The viscount is looking this way. He is coming over.’ She gave a little squeal. ‘And His Grace is coming with him.’
Sophie’s heart began to pound when she realised her ladyship was right and Richard and his grandfather were walking purposefully towards them. All three ladies stood up.
‘Your Grace.’ Her ladyship attempted a wobbly curtsy, as he stopped before her. ‘May I present Miss Roswell.’
