An Unsuitable Match

by Sasha Cottman

  ‘Don’t mention it; otherwise I think I shall scream,’ Susan replied.

  Clarice bought a pair of plain white gloves. With several weeks still left in the season, she was bound to lose a pair at some point. Susan, for her part, kept her reticule tightly closed.

  The thought of offering to buy her a new pair as a peace offering crossed Clarice’s mind, but knowing Susan, there was every chance the gesture would be misconstrued and cause another tiff. By the time the party returned to Langham House, after spending nearly two hours in Hyde Park, Clarice was nursing a dull headache that throbbed behind her left eye. Susan finally lost her temper with the Winchester sisters as they headed back up Park Lane, and both Heather and Daisy departed from Langham House in floods of tears.

  A note from her father informing her of his expected late arrival home was the perfect excuse for Clarice to take supper in her room and retire early. Bella prepared a strong tonic for Clarice’s headache and laid out a clean nightgown behind the dressing screen.

  ‘Are you all right, milady? Did you wish me to draw you a hot bath?’ Bella asked.

  Clarice attempted to shake her head, but quickly thought better of it.

  ‘Thank you, Bella, but no. I shall try and get some sleep, or at least lie down so that my head stops spinning.’

  Bella opened the small paper and string package from the shopping trip and put the new gloves inside the drawer along with the others. Clarice pretended not to hear her maid’s disappointed sigh when she took out the single pair of plain white gloves. Shopping had never been one of Clarice’s favourite pastimes. The endless hours spent going from shop to shop, tagging behind her mother while Lady Elizabeth searched for the perfect pearl button, had left a lasting impression on her.

  ‘Did you go near Wilding and Kent today? One of the housemaids told me they have a sign in their window announcing a brand-new shipment of fabric just arrived from Paris. The latest exotic prints,’ Bella said, quietly closing the drawer.

  ‘No,’ Clarice replied, knowing that her father would be disappointed. Behind the dressing screen she removed her bindings and hid them under a cushion. She slipped the nightgown over her head.

  She crossed the floor and slowly climbed the bed steps. Bella pulled back the bedclothes and removed the warming pan. Clarice slid under the blankets and lay down. She loved feeling the heat on the sheets just after the pan had been taken away.

  ‘Warm enough for you, Milady?’ Bella said as she pulled the covers up.

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ Clarice murmured. The tonic began to work its wonder; and before she had a chance to fight it, sleep overcame her and she slipped into a deep, drug-induced slumber.

  Clarice hid in her room for most of the following day, only coming down for luncheon. If Lady Alice had stuck to her usual travel route and overnighted at Harlow, then she would likely be in London within a day. Then the questions would begin.

  It was not that Clarice disliked her grandmother, but rather that in the years since her mother’s death, Lady Alice had made it her personal mission to take Lady Elizabeth’s place as Clarice’s mother figure.

  With guilt her constant companion, her bright and jovial grandmother made Clarice decidedly uncomfortable.

  Clarice was coming down the stairs that afternoon when a voice cut through her thoughts.

  ‘Ah, there you are, my dear; I was beginning to think you had run off to the Outer Hebrides. Come and give me a hug, child.’

  Clarice had little option other than to greet her grandmother, who was standing surrounded by travel trunks in the front entrance of Langham House. She continued down the stairs, albeit reluctantly.

  ‘I thought you wouldn’t be arriving until at least tomorrow,’ she said.

  As she reached Lady Alice’s side, she glanced quickly at the trunks.

  Lady Alice’s laugh echoed in the cavernous space. ‘Not one to travel light, my darling. You never know when you may suddenly be summoned to appear at His Majesty’s court, or to meet a foreign prince.’

  Clarice smiled. The dowager Countess Langham was truly a larger-than-life woman. Warm, friendly and full of energy, she was the sort of woman kings fell in love with and whom armies marched behind.

  Her grandmother reached out and pulled Clarice into her embrace. Clarice’s leg came up against something solid and she stepped back. In Lady Alice’s right hand she held a hickory walking stick.

  Their gazes met.

  ‘You have a walking stick,’ she said, her voice edged with concern. While Lady Alice had seen many summers, to consider her as anything other than invincible was unthinkable.

  Lady Alice smiled. ‘It’s all right, child; nothing to be alarmed about. I slipped on some loose stones in the front garden at the hall and fell rather heavily. This used to be your grandfather’s walking stick, so I decided to make use of it while I was travelling. Damn nuisance of a twisted knee; I don’t expect I shall be partaking of much dancing while I am in town. That’s why I arrived a little earlier than expected. Sitting in a coach for a day having my leg bounced all over the place is not my idea of a pleasant trip. I ordered the driver to push on this morning so I could get here and stretch it out properly.’

  Clarice tried to look away, but her grandmother held her eyes with an all-knowing gaze.

  ‘Something is different about you, my dear,’ she said, taking Clarice’s hand. ‘Or perhaps something troubles you? I must confess I find you rather difficult to read these days; you hide yourself so well from the world.’

  ‘Just tired, that is all,’ she replied, knowing that lying to her grandmother would be childish and imprudent.

  Lady Alice raised an eyebrow. ‘Still having nightmares?’

  She blushed. She had forgotten Lady Alice knew something of her restless nights. She averted her eyes.

  Her grandmother brushed a thumb across Clarice’s cheek.

  ‘You forget that my room is next to yours. Many times when I have been sitting up late, I have heard you cry out in your sleep. Since you keep your bedroom door locked I haven’t been able to come to your aid.’

  ‘They are just silly dreams,’ Clarice replied.

  ‘Ones that leave you looking as if you haven’t slept in weeks. I wish you would let me help you, my dear. But since you are a young woman now, I cannot force you to confide in me. Just remember, if you need me I am here to do whatever I can for you.’

  A smile found its way to Clarice’s lips.

  ‘That’s better. Now come, my dear; once I have rested this devilishly annoying leg, you shall have to tell me all the wicked things you have done since last we met.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  David gave a quick rap on the half-opened door of his father’s study. The Duke of Strathmore did not like closing himself away from the rest of the house, even when he was at work. The only door he ever closed was that to the ducal suite, which he shared with his wife.

  ‘Good morning,’ David said, as his father raised his head and gave him a welcoming smile.

  ‘And a good morning to you too, my boy,’ Ewan replied. He came out from behind his desk and father and son exchanged a hug.

  ‘You are looking very bright for such an early hour; I expected you to arrive in your evening clothes.’

  David ignored his father’s half-hearted jest. One, because he was in a very bright mood, and two, because more often than he cared to admit, he had arrived for his weekly meeting with Ewan still in his evening attire.

  ‘Actually, I didn’t venture out last night. I had a quiet evening at home reading a book. I had a couple of glasses of wine at dinner, and a whisky during the evening, and turned in early,’ he replied.

  His father’s eyebrows lifted. It was most unlike David to stay at home while the season was in full swing.

  ‘Not coming down with something, are you?’ Ewan replied.

  David chuckled. ‘I suppose it is a little out of character for me to hold back on the usual evening entertainment, but no, I am fine, I just didn’
t feel the need to imbibe or make merry. I have other matters on my mind.’

  Father and son walked over to where a pair of leather couches faced one another. David threw himself on to his favourite couch by the window, while Ewan took a seat on the one opposite.

  ‘It wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with Lady Clarice Langham, would it now?’

  David gave his father a sly grin, but said nothing.

  ‘Or your sister’s sudden delicate head at the ball the other night?’

  ‘I have told Lucy not to bother with playing matchmaker, but she has a tendency to ignore me when it suits her. Not that her clumsy attempt to throw Clarice and me together at the ball met with much success.’

  Ewan sighed and then fell silent. He looked at David and held his gaze.

  ‘Langham came to see me a few days before Alex and Millie’s wedding. Rumours of an incident at a garden party out at Richmond had reached my ears, and I wanted to give him the opportunity to deny them. I tell you this, David: if he had not come at my summons, I fully intended to track Langham down and give him the thrashing of his life. Old family friend or not.’

  David felt the blood drain from his face.

  Oh God.

  ‘What happened?’ he replied.

  ‘He was surprisingly calm about the whole thing. He told me that he sent some of his lads to rough Alex up because of what had happened with Clarice. That poor girl was led to believe that Alex wanted to marry her, before suffering the indignity of being told it was all a terrible misunderstanding. To tell you the truth, by the time he left I was ready to go over and give your brother a clip behind the ear myself. It was a sobering experience to realise that I would have done exactly the same thing if it had been one of your sisters who had suffered such an outrage.’

  ‘So it wasn’t because of his pride?’ David asked. Both he and Alex had assumed Lord Langham had taken personal offence.

  Ewan shook his head. ‘Clarice suffered a public humiliation because of your brother. Mind you, I don’t think Langham intended your brother to collect the scars he has on his face; his lads got a touch carried away.’

  David closed his eyes and lowering his head, rubbed a finger over the fine lines of his furrowed brow. If it took him all night, he would scour this evening’s social events and find Clarice. He too had caused her pain and now he must explain himself. He had to make amends. Securing her heart was now had become the highest priority in his life.

  He cleared his throat.

  ‘I didn’t know you had become aware of the circumstances surrounding Alex’s injuries,’ he replied. He looked up at his father, and met Ewan’s disapproving gaze.

  The duke shook his head. ‘I forced myself to believe that Alex had fallen heavily from his horse, but in the back of my mind I knew something was wrong. I cannot begin to tell you how disappointed I was when I discovered the truth of the matter. My two eldest sons told me a barefaced lie; it caused me to question my skills as a father.’

  David nodded. ‘Alex was desperate not to cause any further pain to Millie or Clarice. He feels personally responsible for the whole mess.’

  ‘Because he is, though you must also share a large part of the blame,’ Ewan said, snorting.

  If his father knew about the incident, then, David was certain, so did his mother. He puffed out his cheeks and ventured to ask.

  ‘What did Mama say when you told her?’

  Ewan puffed out his cheeks.

  ‘Suffice to say she was not pleased. Langham owes the fact that he still has the skin on his back to my keeping your mother in the dark until after the ball.’

  David winced. He dreaded to think what his father had suffered in order to keep the peace.

  He stood and cast his gaze downward. ‘I am deeply sorry, Father, for having lied to you. It was not meant with any malice or disrespect on my part. It was an error of judgement.’

  He felt the weight of his father’s hand on his shoulder as Ewan rose and stood beside him.

  ‘I know why you and your brother did it. And while it was with the best of intentions, may I remind you that this is not a schoolyard brawl we are discussing here. This is a serious assault on a member of the Radley family. The family of which I am the head. I shall be having words with Alex over this matter, but for the time being I shall let it rest. Besides, I did not summon you here this morning to tell you what a pair of bloody fools you and your brother have been. Sit down, son.’

  Feeling rather sheepish, David did as his father instructed and took his seat on the couch once more.

  A smile appeared on Ewan’s face and he clapped his hands. David blinked twice, unsure of what to make of the sudden change in his father’s mood.

  ‘I have news for you; wonderful news,’ Ewan said.

  He retrieved a large pile of papers from his desk, before taking a seat on the same couch as David.

  ‘Move up, lad, make some room for me.’

  David frowned. He had made plans to catch up with friends this morning at his club. Now it would appear his day was going to be spent going over ducal estate matters. He sighed. ‘I was hoping now that Alex is married, you might instruct Millie on some of the duties of the estate. It will eventually fall to her to handle most of the paperwork. Speaking of which, where is Alex?’

  ‘Your sister-in-law knows exactly what tasks she will be assigned once the season is over. I have had several meetings with her already. Fortunately for us, Alex has decided upon a rather clever young lady as his future duchess, so both your and your mother’s workload will soon lessen. Alex isn’t here today because this is a moment for just you and me. Father and firstborn.’

  David looked at the papers once more. They didn’t look like the usual letters and accounts he and his father worked through together. Alex, having suffered all his life from an inability to read the written word, usually sat and listened to proceedings.

  Ewan sifted through the pile and pulled out a folded document. He handed it to David.

  It was marked Contract of Sale.

  ‘Open it and read the first page or so,’ he said.

  David untied the string that bound the document and began to read. After the fourth sentence he let out a loud yell and shot to his feet.

  ‘No! You haven’t?’ he shouted, brandishing the paper toward his father.

  Smiling, Ewan stood. ‘Yes, I have, and it’s all yours. Signed, sealed and settled.’

  ‘But how? I know how much they were asking for this; how can you possibly carve that sort of money out of the estate? Alex will be livid,’ David stammered.

  He looked down at the contract, and shook his head. What his father had given him was beyond anything he had ever dreamt possible.

  Ewan handed him another document. It was clearly marked as a deed of title.

  ‘Alex and Millie were thrilled beyond words when I told them what I planned to do with Millie’s dowry. They both agreed it was time you forged your own future. Alex even stole away for two days before his wedding and made a secret visit to the estate with me.’

  Hot tears pricked in the back of David’s eyes. He blinked them away as he stared once more at the papers he held in his trembling hand.

  He was now the proud owner of Sharnbrook Grange. His own estate.

  His father put an arm around David’s shoulder. ‘And one of the nicest aspects of this estate is its proximity to London. You will be able to travel up and back with ease.’

  David chuckled. ‘I had often wondered if you were going to bequeath me some far-flung piece of Scotland – not that I would have been ungrateful. But the prospect of being so far from London was not one I can honestly say I relished.’

  ‘No, your brother can be the one who undertakes the long journey to Strathmore Castle several times a year. If he is going to be the duke some day, he knows there are sacrifices to be made.’

  Ewan took the title deed from David and opened it up. Inside was a surveyor’s map of Sharnbrook.

  ‘This is the
village; you can see it is only a stone’s throw away. And here is the manor house,’ he said, pointing to a large rectangle drawn on the map. To the right of the house was a shaded area marked Temple Wood.

  David gave a nod. He had seen Sharnbrook Grange once before, when he and Alex had journeyed to visit a friend who lived on the other side of Bedford.

  ‘When can I visit?’ he replied.

  His father folded the title paper, and handed it to him.

  ‘It’s yours; you can do with it whatever you please.’

  David looked down at the bundle of papers in his hand and made an instant decision. He knew the task of securing Clarice’s hand would be long and perilous. Until today, apart from his charm and good looks, he possessed little to offer her. Owning a working estate that generated an ongoing income could only serve to strengthen his case.

  ‘I shall leave tomorrow morning. There is just one urgent matter that I need to attend to this evening, so the timing of this magnificent gift could not have been better. Besides, the sooner I make my presence known to the staff there the better we shall all be.’

  His father put a hand in his jacket pocket and withdrew another folded piece of paper. Another surprise?

  ‘You may wish to delay until later in the week. Your mother and I are attending the opera tomorrow evening with Alex and Millie. We were hoping you would join us,’ he said, unfolding the playbill and showing it to him.

  David grimaced. He hated opera. ‘Really? Do I have to sit through an entire evening of opera? Couldn’t you just flay me with a cat o’nine tails?’

  Ewan laughed. ‘Did I mention that I had invited Langham and his daughter and that he sent his apologies late yesterday? Fortunately, Lady Alice Langham has just arrived in town so the dowager countess will be escorting Clarice in his stead.’

  A wave of relief washed warmly over David and he gladly took the playbill.

  ‘I thought that might get your attention. So we shall see you here on Thursday for dinner at seven, ready for the opera at nine?’ Ewan said.