She’d been nice to me. She’d even given me a compliment. “The man my father took on in my place is like that. He never ceases to tell me of the mistakes I’ve made. Or those I’m about to make.”
“Is he one of those pompous sorts, with a loud voice and a barreled chest, who goes about with his nose in the air?”
“He is rather large. And he does make a very many pronouncements and hasn’t ever once listened to any of my suggestions.”
“Say no more, Miss Withersby. I detested him on principle before, hearing how he had taken up your position, but now I shall detest him upon your evidence as well.”
“That’s quite kind of you.”
“Think nothing of it. We must stick together, you and I.”
I glanced around the room. “I haven’t been to any of these dinner parties before. I’m astonished by how many people I truly don’t know.” Even those I recognized from church, I couldn’t say I was actually acquainted with, for normally we happened into the service late and sat in the back pew, ducking out at the opening notes of the postlude.
“Many of them are just here for the hunt. It’s best to ignore them. I assure you, they’re none of them interested in country folk. Not even a baronet’s daughter like me. Now, I shall point out all the rest. Over there is Mr. Stansbury.”
I looked in the direction she was nodding and saw a man of middling years speaking to Mr. Bickwith.
“He’s an industrialist come from Liverpool who has bought Overwich Hall. And as if he doesn’t have enough money already, he’s leasing out the rights to his hunting park. I’m afraid I’ve heard his taste is somewhat vulgar.” She tipped her head as she considered him. “But I have to consider that there must be some hope for him, otherwise he would never have chosen to wear that waistcoat. I’m sure it must be velvet. At least, that is, mostly velvet. It’s quite stunning, don’t you think?”
I didn’t know what to think, but I nodded anyway.
“He’s very keen on his glasshouse and the development of the grounds of his estate but seems to have little interest in marrying, though I doubt very many people know that. It’s just that I might as well not exist for all the attention he pays me, and I don’t mind telling you I’m considered quite the catch in Cheshire. He might be just the man for you, Miss Withersby. He’s quite handsome, in his way, don’t you think?”
I could only agree.
“Knowing him to be disinterested in matrimony, you could safely be seen to pursue him without putting yourself in danger of receiving a proposal.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
“Although, as I said, he made his own money, so he’s most definitely not a gentleman. Oh! That could be a point we can use in your favor. Might your father not be even more alarmed if you’re thought to be drawn to a man like him?”
“I—”
“Now. Enough of Mr. Stansbury. Just to his left, beyond Mr. Bickwith, is Mr. Robinson, also a bachelor, who might be . . .” She paused as she frowned. “No. No, I’ve changed my mind. You definitely wouldn’t wish to marry him, and perhaps it’s best not even to encourage him. He’s proposed to almost every female in Overwich over the age of fourteen.” She leaned toward me. “And it’s rumored he even proposed to Miss Fletcher.”
“Miss Fletcher?” I hadn’t met her. At least if I had, I couldn’t remember. “I don’t think I know who—”
She pointed out a woman across the room with a flick of her fan. “She must be forty, if she’s a day.” Her eyes swept the room. “Across the floor, over there, is our new rector—”
“Mr. Hopkins-Whyte. I have already met him.”
She studied my face for a moment. “And it wasn’t a pleasure. Is that what you mean to say?”
“He was very apologetic about the whole thing.”
“Apologetic! Whatever did he do?”
I explained our way of meeting, and she considered him from behind the sweep of her fan. “On the whole, I would have to say such behavior does not bode well. A rector ought to be quite sure of himself, otherwise one would find it very difficult to put much confidence in his sermons, would one not?”
“I suppose one—”
“And you say he apologized?”
“He did.”
“For meeting a lady such as yourself?”
I nodded.
“When he has eight children to find a mother for . . . that seems rather odd to me, does it not to you?”
“I suppose it—”
“Then he also would be safe for you to encourage.” She gave a decided nod as she snapped her fan shut. “I daresay he’s not sufficiently recovered from his wife’s death to propose marriage to anyone yet. Otherwise, he would already have done so.”
“What about that man over there?” He looked to be about my age.
“Heavens no! His mother is as mad as a hatter. As soon as you talk to him, he’d offer for your hand, and before you could say, ‘God, please save me!’ you’d be married and chasing the old woman through the streets, trying to make sure she didn’t stick someone with her pair of shears the way she’s always threatening to do.”
I shuddered.
“Of course, if she suddenly died, I’m sure you would be quite comfortable as mistress of his house. But all in all, I don’t think it’s worth the risk, considering that you don’t really wish to marry.”
“I don’t. I really don’t.”
“There’s Mr. Hobbes’s son.” She nodded toward another man. “Don’t let those ears of his frighten you. He’s got some cousins who come to town now and then and they’re all really quite dashingly good-looking. You wouldn’t know it to see him, but they take after his father’s side of the family. They bring their dogs and run them in the hunt, and it’s all quite marvelous, really, but I suppose they wouldn’t help you any since the point is to have someone be seen to have an interest in you and that would be rather difficult since all they seem to care about is the hunt.”
“And what about that man?” I indicated him with a nod of my chin.
“He has his cap set for Miss Atkinson over there. It’s quite tragic, really. He won’t propose marriage because he hasn’t the means and even if he did, her father would never agree because he’s not from Cheshire, not originally in any case, and so they just keep gazing at each other.”
“Is there no one else?”
“No one worth your time or trouble. Of course, I might answer differently if you actually wished to marry. In that case you could even consider old Mr. Carew, but the goal is to provoke a man into paying you attention enough to raise alarm, but not enough to propose. You’ve issued quite a challenge, Miss Withersby, but I’ve both talent and time, and if you leave it to my capable hands, you’ll soon be back to your life’s work.”
“I’m so grateful for—”
She patted my arm. “No gratitude is necessary. It will be ever so entertaining to make you the belle of the ballroom, and it will take some of the pressure off of me. Now then, who shall we start with? Mr. Stansbury or the rector?”
I’d already suffered through an introduction to the rector, so I chose the other man instead.
“A wise choice. Now then, just leave everything to me.”
She pulled me along to the Admiral who had wandered off toward the windows and was staring out into the darkness of the night as a stiff breeze flattened his hair. She tugged at his sleeve.
He turned with a start and bowed. “Miss Templeton.”
She curtseyed. “I had the most engaging conversation with your niece, Miss Withersby, and I was struck by inspiration! Mr. Stansbury has the best glasshouse in the county. I was telling her all about it, wondering if she hadn’t happened yet to see it. He sometimes gives tours to visitors, but she told me she’d never had the pleasure of an introduction.”
The Admiral was regarding the man in question through narrowed eyes. “He’s not quite a gentleman, to my way of understanding. Didn’t he have an interest in shoe black?”
The tin
iest of frowns marred her brow. “Something to do with the railways, I rather thought, but considering Miss Withersby’s interest in botany, perhaps an introduction might be merited.”
The Admiral sniffed.
“Warranted. Perhaps an introduction might be warranted is what I meant to say.”
He peered at her, lips pursed for a moment. “Perhaps it is. I haven’t been introduced myself, but I daresay if I can convince China to open her ports, then I can introduce myself to an industrialist from Liverpool.”
He marched out across the ballroom floor as Miss Templeton and I struggled to keep up with his long strides.
She clutched at my arm. “This is going quite perfectly! How alarmed your Admiral will be if he thinks Mr. Stansbury’s interest in you surpasses his interests in plants and is, in fact, genuine. You’ll be recalled to your father’s side in an instant!”
For the first time in several days, my spirits began to lift. “I’ve so longed for my microscope and—”
“You really must try to smile, Miss Withersby. You look frightfully dour the way you are just now.”
I fixed a smile to my face.
Mr. Stansbury glanced toward us, and when his gaze fixed upon the Admiral, his eyes widened. He bent at the waist in a short, choppy bow.
The Admiral nodded. “Stansbury, is it?”
“Indeed, sir. It’s a very great honor to make your acquaintance.”
“I’ve been told you have an interest in botany.”
“I do. A very great interest.”
“May I present my niece, Miss Withersby. Her father is a botanist. The entire family has an ancient affinity for the topic.”
“Miss Withersby.” He bowed, and I curtseyed in return. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Do you share your family’s interest?”
“I do.”
“Perhaps, then, you would do me the favor of viewing my collections?”
I needed to know what they were before deciding. “What is it that you’ve collected?”
“Orchids. Ferns. Palms. Anything my correspondents can get for me.”
Palms weren’t my favorites. I considered them altogether too expansive for my taste, and they didn’t much flower, but it did not seem an appropriate time to quibble. “Yes. I will.”
“Tuesday perhaps? At two o’clock?”
I looked at my uncle.
He replied on my behalf. “Very well. We shall see you then.” He nodded at the man as one would in taking leave, but he continued to stand exactly where he was.
After a glance at Miss Templeton and me, Mr. Stansbury nodded and moved off.
The Admiral harrumphed, took out a handkerchief, and patted his brow.
Miss Templeton took me by the hand and pulled me close. “Now we just have to get you introduced to the rector.”
“I’ve already met him.”
“Nobody knows you’ve met him, and if your uncle didn’t see it . . . ?”
“No.”
“So the first time might have been for nothing for all the good it does us now.”
“Then what shall I do?”
“We must obtain another introduction by way of the Admiral. That’s the way it’s done.” She pushed me toward him.
“Uncle?”
He glanced over at me. “My dear?”
“I wonder . . .”
Miss Templeton was nodding as if to encourage me.
“Have you met the new rector yet?”
“I have. Though he seems a likeable fellow, I have decided to withhold my judgment until I hear him preach a sermon. Let’s hope he’s one of those who has sense enough to dispense with politics and satisfy himself with the Word of God.”
I lifted a brow at Miss Templeton.
She stepped forward. “I hear he brought an excellent collection of . . . of plants with him from . . . wherever it was that he came. Where did he come from?”
“Northumberland.” At least that’s what he’d told me.
“I am entirely besotted with the idea of the north! And I’m sure Miss Withersby would love to see his collections. I was wondering, since my father is otherwise occupied at the moment, could you make an introduction for me?”
“I would be happy to do so.”
The Admiral marched over to the rector, and once again Miss Templeton and I were left to follow in his wake. There were bows and nods and altogether too much of a fuss made of my uncle’s sordid past.
The Admiral pinned Mr. Hopkins-Whyte with a glance. “I’ve heard that you haven’t met Miss Templeton or my niece, Miss Withersby.”
The rector bowed once more. As he straightened he looked at me. “Your . . . your niece?”
“My sister’s daughter.”
The rector was beginning to look apoplectic.
“We’re ever so happy to have you here, Mr. Hopkins-Whyte.” Miss Templeton’s words were spoken with a smile.
“Thank you?”
“I’ve heard you’ve come to us from Northumberland.”
“I . . . I have done so. Yes. From Northumberland.”
“I’ve also heard there are ever so many beautiful . . .” She was kicking me in the shins. “So very many beautiful flowers such as . . .” She gave me another kick. “Oh, do help me, Miss Withersby. You’re so much better at flowers than I am.”
“I’m sure you must have seen many specimens of privet, Mr. Hopkins-Whyte.”
His brow furrowed. “I’ve rather . . . an uncollected collection at the moment, you see, but yes. I did collect many specimens during my time in Northumberland. I’m sure privet must be among them.”
Miss Templeton sighed. “I do so love the exotic. Don’t you, Miss Withersby?”
“Certain exotics.” Others I found entirely too foreign.
“I was thinking of local exotics. Specifically the sorts of flowers from the north that we don’t often get to see here.”
Mr. Hopkins-Whyte was trying not to smile. “Northumberland being in the north, I must say . . . Rather, I suppose one might wish to say, that altogether it would be expected that you would have a much greater variety of flowers here in Cheshire.”
“But you seem to be saying your collection isn’t worth seeing!” Miss Templeton was practically chiding the poor man. “Your modesty becomes you, but Miss Withersby and I consider ourselves devotées of flowers, and we’re avid collectors ourselves, and I do hope that you might someday be persuaded to share your own collection.”
“Of course, I would be happy—”
“How generous you are! We wouldn’t want to interrupt your sermon writing, but could we possibly prevail upon you to entertain us Tuesday afternoon? Around four o’clock?”
“Tuesday? Well, of course, Tuesday is—”
“How perfectly splendid! We’ll see you then.”
We both dropped curtseys, and as the rector stared with wide eyes at my uncle standing beside him, Miss Templeton took me by the hand and pulled me away. “Good gracious! And the man has eight children. It’s a wonder he ever gathered his thoughts long enough to get married.”
“He’s not so bad as all that.” In fact, he was better than I had remembered. “And really, he was quite right about there being so many more flowers here in the south than he had access to in the north.”
“I don’t care about his flowers, Miss Withersby!”
“Then why did you provoke him into showing us his collection?”
“So that you can be seen going to the rectory. No one will suspect that he has any designs on me. Papa would never entertain his suit! But you, Miss Withersby, are a different matter entirely. I shall let it slip that we are going to visit Mr. Stansbury and Mr. Hopkins-Whyte on Tuesday and we’ll just see how long it takes for tongues to start wagging!”
7
Mrs. Bickwith came up to us not twenty minutes later. “I hear the new rector has eight children.” The tops of her cheeks had gone red, and now they matched her gown.
Since she seemed to be speaking to me, I answered. “I�
��ve heard the same.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t make any difference to you, however.”
“To me? Why would it?”
“It doesn’t pay to be discriminating at your age.”
“Discriminating? I suppose it depends upon what the question is. In terms of microscopes, for instance, I should think it most definitely pays to be discriminating. My father and I have always held that German lenses, though they’re terribly expensive, are a better purchase because—”
“Microscopes?” She turned to Miss Templeton. “What do microscopes have to do with—”
Miss Templeton smiled at her. “Miss Withersby is enamored of flowers. Her father is quite well-known in botany.”
“Oh?” Her gaze fluttered back to me. “Then you must become a member of the King’s Head Field Club.”
“I don’t think so. I—”
“You must join us. There’s nothing more uplifting than flowers. We meet on Sunday afternoon.”
As the woman left, I confided my objections to Miss Templeton. “I don’t want to become a member of a field club.”
“But why not? I’m a member of the field club.”
“I object to the very idea of field clubs, because most of the time they destroy the very fields they’re meant to be viewing, and by the time a true botanist comes along, there’s nothing left to pick!”
“Hush now. You shouldn’t speak so loudly. People are beginning to notice.” She deployed her fan and began to sweep it back and forth.
“They ought to notice!”
“My gracious, Miss Withersby, it won’t do to hold such strong opinions. Not when you’re supposed to be bent on marriage.” She patted my hand as she looked around the room. “I wonder who we’ll be seated next to at dinner. I’m going to be very bold and hope you’re a pair for Mr. Stansbury. I daresay he has the makings of a gentleman. It’s such a shame he made his fortune in railways. There’s just no way for that to sound appealing. Pity.”
By the time we arrived at the table, I was famished. The assembly as a whole was quite colorful. It resembled nothing so much as a field of wild flowers in July.
Like a Flower in Bloom Page 7
