“That is quite impressive!”
“She certainly thought so. When I finally crossed the finish line, she was standing next to her horse, stroking his mane, and do you know what she said to me?”
“What?”
“I shall never forget it. She said, ‘There is no need to be ashamed, My Lord, you rode quite well. Perhaps I could give you lessons in the future.’ I do not believe that I have ever laughed half so hard in my life.”
Michael’s mother looked nonplussed, but all of the gentlemen in the party laughed heartily at this, except for the Earl of Cublertone. He was watching Michael closely, gauging his reaction to the story. Laughter rang through the dining room for a moment longer before the guests were able to catch their breath.
The Earl of Cublertone cleared his throat loudly and said, “I can assure you, My Lords, that my daughter would never say such a thing now! She was a precocious child, but she had the best governesses and they have been meticulous in teaching her proper etiquette.”
“Of course, Cublertone, of course!” the Duke of Litchfield reassured him. “I have met Lady Paulina myself, and she is charming and exceptionally well-mannered.”
Michael smiled at this, but felt a slight pang of disappointment. He understood that for practical purposes, a well-mannered wife was ideal. However, he could not help but think that life would be much more interesting if he were married to the sort of lady who still challenged the gentlemen around her, and joked about it afterwards. Perhaps that element of her personality still resides in her somewhere—perhaps she might show me that side of her in time.
Unbidden, an image entered Michael’s mind—Lady Paulina’s pretty maid, challenging him to a race. In his mind, she beat him in the race, but only just. He imagined dismounting at the finish line, seconds after she did. He envisioned them laughing together, and then falling into each other’s arms, feeling both of their hearts racing.
“Gentlemen?” Michael heard his father say, in rather a booming voice that pulled him back to reality.
I must stop this! I cannot be lost in thoughts of a pretty lady’s maid when I ought to be engaged in conversation with these gentlemen!
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Michael returned his attention to present company, and looked at his father enquiringly.
“Shall we go through to the parlor for cigars and brandy?” his father asked the assembled company.
The gentlemen all nodded in agreement and stood up to follow their host. Michael’s mother remained at the table with the Duchess of Litchfield, and the Ladies bid the Gentlemen good evening.
The parlor was not an inviting room. It was filled with comfortable leather arm chairs, but the room itself was dark, and Michael recalled it as the scene of being told off by his father many times. At thirty, he ought not to let this bother him, but still felt a twinge of discomfort upon entering the room. Steeling himself, he followed the group into the room.
His father was handing out cigars and had called upon the butler to fetch brandy for his guests. They spent about half an hour recounting the day’s hunt, which was pleasant enough, though Michael found it rather dull, having just experienced it a few hours ago.
Eventually his father brought the subject around the matter of his estate, as well as the Earl of Cublertone’s.
“We must consider the next generation, Cublertone, neither of us is as young as we used to be,” he said.
“Indeed, we are not,” Lord Cublertone said with a sigh. “And of course, you know I have no son to inherit. My Paulina will be a good wife, and will rule her estate wisely by her husband’s side, when he comes into his title.”
“And you have no male relatives who might inherit?” the Marquess of Portam asked. Michael had the impression that the Marquess already knew the answer to this question, and had been instructed to ask it by Lord Cublertone himself.
“Unfortunately not,” Lord Cublertone replied, with a sigh. “My brother is dead, and left only daughters. I have no cousins on my father’s side, and the only living cousins on my mother’s side are ladies, who would have no claim to Cublertone in any case. I suppose that I must hope for a grandson in short order!”
“Well, as Hillfield borders Cublertone, this matter is of particular interest to us as well,” Michael’s father said in a matter-of-fact tone.
It was clear to Michael that this entire exchange had been engineered for his benefit. They need not have bothered—he was well aware of the benefits of marrying Lady Paulina. When the estates were combined, he would become the heir to a large portion of the west country—a powerful land owner, and eventually an extremely powerful member of Parliament.
His son by Lady Paulina would probably be one of the wealthiest gentlemen in England, apart from the Regent himself. No doubt their child would be handsome as well, and an accomplished horseman. And all I need to do in exchange, is spend my life with a lady I hardly know, who might be rather dull.
The day after the hunting party, Michael sat at his desk, and wrote a note to Lady Paulina. In it, he thanked her for her hospitality, and told her that it had been a pleasure to make her acquaintance. He also reminded her of the invitation to come and ride at Cublertone, suggesting that she might like to come the following Friday.
When he received her reply two days later, he was pleased to see that she had accepted his invitation, but he could not help but wonder whether she might bring her maid with her as well.
Chapter 4
The following Friday, Betsey helped Lady Paulina prepare for her visit to Hillfield. She would spend the day riding, and would need to dress appropriately for physical activity, but it was also important that she look beautiful.
This was no difficult task, as Lady Paulina was fair of face and form, but Betsey took extra care in arranging her mistress’s hair. For reasons she tried not to think about, Betsey had also taken extra care with her own appearance today. She wore a pale gray gown that was simple, as befit her station, but the color complemented her skin tone.
Betsey would be accompanying her mistress to the Hillfield estate today, as her chaperone. She knew that this would involve very little contact with the Viscount, but she could not help but imagine what she might say to him. She had studied her face carefully in the looking glass as she arranged her hair this morning, and wondered what he might think of it. Though I doubt he would think of it at all.
When Lady Paulina was dressed and ready, Betsey walked with her downstairs and called for their carriage. The late morning air was cool and refreshing, as they stood waiting in the front garden. It would be a beautiful day for riding. Perhaps Lady Paulina and the Viscount would feel more warmly toward one another beneath this beautiful blue sky.
Betsey helped Lady Paulina into the carriage and then climbed in behind her. They sat opposite one another as the carriage pulled out of the drive and they began the journey to the Hillfield estate.
“My father is thrilled that I am going to Hillfield estate today,” Lady Paulina said, her voice barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the carriage wheels.
“Yes,” Betsey replied. “I should think so, My Lady.”
“I do understand why he feels that way…”
Betsey gave her mistress a searching look. She knew that Lady Paulina had felt conflicted about the arrangement, but the last time they had spoken of it, she seemed resigned to the idea. Her tone today suggested that she had more reservations about the arrangement now.
“Perhaps if I had not fallen in love with another gentleman, I could be happy to marry the Viscount of Somerwich.”
“My Lady?” Betsey asked, hesitantly, “What will you do?”
“I must try to convince Father that he should allow me to follow my heart. Marrying the Viscount will not make me happy, and I know that father wants me to be happy.”
Betsey merely nodded at this. She knew that the Earl loved his daughter, whatever other faults he might possess. Still, she did not feel as confident as Lady Paulina did t
hat he would prioritize his daughter’s happiness over his political aspirations.
“Have you any idea how you might convince him of that, My Lady?”
“Well, I don’t see how I can convince him that marriage to the Viscount will not make me happy, other than to just tell him so directly.”
“Perhaps,” Betsey said, considering her words carefully, “You might be wise to consider the political elements of the arrangement as well.”
“What do you mean, Betsey?”
“Well, perhaps I am mistaken, My Lady.”
“Oh, I rather doubt that, Betsey,” Lady Paulina said, kindly. “You are quite clever, you know, and I value your opinion. I must insist that you tell me what you mean about the political elements of the arrangement.”
“All right then,” Betsey said, feeling more confident now. Lady Paulina did not always consider the practicalities of a situation, but she was not foolish.
“Your father values your happiness and hopes to see you wed to a good gentleman who will bring you joy, to be sure. And…he also hopes to build a political alliance with a rival. He is hoping that if you marry the Viscount of Somerwich, he will accomplish both of these things in one stroke.”
“Yes,” Lady Paulina said, seeming to consider this. “I understand that, but surely the former objective is more important to him than the latter one.”
“I suppose so,” Betsey said, though in truth she supposed no such thing. “But if you could convince him that marrying for love would also be politically expedient, then you would stand an even better chance of changing your father’s mind.”
“Hmm… Perhaps you are right, Betsey. I shall have to consider that.”
They sat in silence for several minutes as the carriage rolled toward the Hillfield estate. Each of the companions looked out of her respective window at the beautiful countryside as it rolled by. They were lucky that it was lovely weather for traveling and riding today.
It had rained for several days in a row, and it had looked as though the outing might have to be cancelled. But this morning had dawned bright and crisp, much to the relief of the Earl, who was eager for his daughter to visit the Viscount.
After several minutes of this, Lady Paulina spoke again, as if there had been no pause in the conversation.
“It’s not as though I wish to marry a servant!”
“No, My Lady.” Betsey was not offended by this outburst—a marriage between an Earl’s daughter and a servant would create a great scandal. A groom or footman would have no place in her world.
“It would be a good match for me, in fact. Father has no reason to object on those grounds.”
Betsey nodded in agreement, although it was clear that Lady Paulina was talking to herself more than anyone.
“I must consider the best way to broach the subject with him. It will not do to simply tell him that I do not wish to marry the Viscount. You are so clever to have seen that I must convince him about the politics. I think that I shall need to do that first. Thank you, Betsey, I shall think about this.”
Betsey smiled at her mistress. She really did wish her happiness, and so she hoped that this plan would be a success.
When they arrived at Hillfield estate, the sun was higher in the sky, and the air was comfortably warm. The coachman opened the carriage door and helped Lady Paulina out, with Betsey following behind her.
The Viscount of Somerwich greeted them in the garden and offered Lady Paulina his arm to escort her to the stables. Betsey thought that he looked even more handsome today than he had when he had visited Cublertone estate, but Lady Paulina seemed impervious to his charms.
Betsey observed the interactions between her mistress and the Viscount with interest. Lady Paulina was well-mannered as always, and the Viscount was a perfect host. There was nothing in their conversation to suggest that they did not like one another, but something in their tone—or perhaps their physical actions—suggested that there was no affection between them.
Betsey imagined herself in the position of her mistress. Her mind conjured up the feeling of the Viscount’s strong arm, leading her forward. She imagined being just inches away from him and felt her cheeks begin to flush. She was certain that if she were walking arm in arm with the Viscount, she would not look as downcast as Lady Paulina did.
“We had a hunting party here recently,” the Viscount was telling Lady Paulina.
“Yes, my father attended,” she replied. “He said that it was a successful party.”
“It was, My Lady,” the Viscount said, and then he looked over at Lady Paulina. “The Marquess of Portam was also in attendance, and he told the most fascinating story.”
“Oh?” asked Lady Paulina. Betsey thought that her mistress sounded slightly nervous, and hoped that the Viscount would not notice.
It seemed that he had not, in fact, noticed Lady Paulina’s nerves as he went on to tell a story about when Lady Paulina was a young girl and had apparently challenged the Marquess of Portam to a horse race. According to the story, she had beaten him handily, and offered to teach him how to ride when the race was done.
The Viscount seemed to find this story funny, but Lady Paulina was obviously mortified. Betsey could read the emotion in her face as clearly as if it were written on a page right in front of her, but she knew Lady Paulina so well, and she hoped that it would be less obvious to the Viscount, who was a relative stranger.
“My Lord,” Lady Paulina said, in a voice that sounded somewhat harsh, though Betsey knew that Lady Paulina was merely working hard to remain calm. “I am sorry that you had to hear such a story about me. I am afraid that I was a precocious child and did not know my place. I can assure you that I would never do or say such a thing now.”
“There is no need to apologize, My Lady!” the Viscount said, sounding taken aback.
Betsey was also surprised by the story, and Lady Paulina’s reaction to it. The incident itself had happened before Betsey arrived at Cublertone’s estate, so perhaps she did not fully understand its significance, but it sounded like a minor infraction, and an understandable one for a young lady who had lost her mother not long before.
On the other hand, the Earl of Cublertone had always insisted on proper etiquette and decorum in his household. Betsey felt sure that if he had heard about this incident at the time, whether or not the Marquess of Portam had been offended by her behavior, Lady Paulina’s father would not have been pleased.
“Ah, that is a shame,” the Viscount said, with a sigh, exaggerated for comedic effect.
“My Lord?” Lady Paulina asked, sounding confused.
“I had hoped that you might challenge me to a race today, and that, perhaps if you won, you might offer to teach me how to ride.”
Lady Paulina paused for a moment, seeming unsure of what to say or do in response to this. Finally, she forced a polite laugh and said nothing. A look of disappointment flitted briefly across the Viscount’s face, but it was gone in an instant.
The Viscount continued to lead Lady Paulina to the stables in silence, Betsey following behind at a short distance. When they arrived at the stable they found a groom saddling a handsome chestnut stallion.
“Good day, My Lord,” the groom said upon seeing them, “and My Lady. I’ve saddled Pepper for you, My Lord.”
“Thank you, Jameson.”
“And for My Lady, Bonnie is saddled and ready.” Jameson gestured toward a dark brown mare, smaller than the Viscount’s stallion, but still impressively tall.
Lady Paulina walked over to the horse that Jameson had indicated and held out her hand for Bonnie to smell. The horse sniffed Lady Paulina’s hand briefly, and then lowered its head, letting Lady Paulina stroke its mane.
“Bonnie seems to like you, My Lady!” the Viscount said, pleasantly.
Lady Paulina gave the Viscount a brief smile. “I like her too, My Lord.”
The Viscount smiled at Lady Paulina, but Betsey thought that he still looked a bit disappointed.
“James
on!” he called, “Please saddle a horse for Lady Paulina’s maid as well.”
Then, turning to Betsey, he said, “Do you have much experience riding?”
Betsey was surprised to be addressed directly by the Viscount, and looked quickly at her mistress. Would Lady Paulina be upset that the Viscount was speaking to her maid? She would not be jealous, as she had no interest in the Viscount, but this was a breach of etiquette that might be shocking to her.
To Betsey’s relief, Lady Paulina was still stroking her horse’s mane, and talking to it softly. She did not appear to notice that her suitor was talking to her maid merely feet away from her.
“I am not as accomplished as Lady Paulina, My Lord,” Betsey said modestly, keeping her gaze focused on the ground, “But I am a competent rider.”
“I see,” the Viscount replied. His tone was casual, but Betsey thought that she could feel his eyes lingering on her for a second longer than was really necessary.
“Jameson!” he continued, turning away from her, “Please saddle Lucky for Lady Paulina’s maid.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Jameson said, and then turning to Betsey, “Right this way, Miss.”
Betsey followed the groom to the opposite end of the stable and watched as he saddled a dappled gray gelding, smaller than Bonnie and Pepper, but with a sturdy look. Lucky was docile and quiet while Jameson adjusted the saddle and tack.
Betsey had told the Viscount of Somerwich that she was a competent rider. It was true that she was not as accomplished at riding as Lady Paulina, but that was merely a product of opportunity. Betsey had a natural affinity for horses, who always seemed to like her.
She had been riding her father’s cart horse since she was a little girl, mostly around the village to run errands for her mother or father. In truth, she had always volunteered for those errands that required riding, simply because she loved it.
Since gaining her position at Cublertone’s estate, she had gone out riding in the grounds from time to time to accompany Lady Paulina. Betsey had not ridden the best horses in the Earl’s stables, but even the oldest and slowest of them had been faster and stronger than her father’s horse.
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