The Yuletide Countess: Harriet's Traditional Regency Romance

by Alicia Quigley

  “Oh yes, I hope so too,” Harriet concurred. “I am of course very fond of you my dear, but some variety in our daily routine will be welcome, especially as she is such a well-informed lady. And it will be pleasant for me to have other diversions than reading and painting.”

  Chapter 4.

  As Isobel and Harriet reviewed their impressions of her, Catherine stood in the entry of Glencairn Castle, removing her gloves as the late summer sun streamed through the high arched windows, illuminating the tapestries hung on the stone walls, and the black and white tiled floor. She turned to walk into the cavernous Great Hall, a remnant of the original medieval castle, and nodded at the footman as she passed. Her footsteps alternately rang on the stone floor, and were muffled by the immense Turkish carpets that covered part of its expanse, as the faces of bygone lairds of Glencairn and their ladies of earlier eras gazed down at her from the paintings and tapestries that adorned the wall. She passed through a stone archway, its keystone carved with the insignia of the Laird, and into the modern, and far more comfortable part of the house. As she did so, a door opened to her left, and Lord Glencairn appeared.

  “Ah, Miss Dalburn,” he said, “I see you are returned from your visit to Dargenwater Cottage. Come into the library, and tell me about our neighbors.”

  “Miss Paley and Miss Walcott seem to be very well-bred ladies, and I was pleased to make their acquaintance, as there are so few gentlewomen in the immediate neighborhood of Glencairn. It was very pleasant taking tea with them.”

  “Quite so, quite so,” his lordship agreed. “In fact it is the absence of genteel company that I wish to discuss with you, Miss Dalburn.”

  There seemed to be no reason to answer this, so Catherine remained silent and waited for Glencairn to gather his thoughts.

  “Yesterday morn, I saw you walk out with Douglas and Sophia and it struck me most forcibly how much my daughter has grown in the past few months. She is bidding fair to becoming a very lovely young lady.”

  “Very true, Lord Glencairn,” Catherine agreed. “And just as important, she has charming manners, and is both kind and intelligent. You have a daughter of whom you may be proud.”

  “Thanks to your efforts Miss Dalburn; you have reared her as well as any mother might have.”

  “I'm honored, sir.” Catherine answered.

  Glencairn clasped his hands behind his back and paced back and forth a few steps.

  “As you know, I have felt little need to go about in society here in Scotland, and still less to venture to London. But seeing my little Sophy growing so quickly has made me realize that I need to cease being such a hermit, and return to a more social existence.”

  “Yes, she is only a few months shy of her fourteenth birthday, and before you realize it, you will need to find a lady among your relations or close friends to bring her out.”

  “As to that, Miss Dalburn, I came to the identical conclusion, which forced me to think this matter over carefully in the last day, and I have determined that I must marry again.”

  Something of worry and surprise must have shown in Catherine's face, for he peered closely at her. “Oh, you need not fear losing your place. I am in no immediate hurry, sometime in the next year or two I will find a suitable gentlewoman, and even then Sophy will continue to need a governess; my wife will have the household to manage, and I would wish her to be my companion as well. I must find a woman who is not too young, but well connected, and able to select the best music and dancing masters and ensure that over the next few years Sophy is attending a few parties meant for young people to develop more ease in company. Most important of all, she must be able to cultivate the other ladies whose approval she will need in order to obtain vouchers for Almack’s.”

  “It seems a very sound plan, my lord,” Catherine replied, while thinking that his lordship sounded exactly as though he wished to apply modern farming methods to the patronesses of Almack's. “Perhaps we should start spending a bit more time on French, Italian and music in preparation?”

  “An excellent notion, Miss Dalburn,” Glencairn approved. “We want to be sure that she isn't viewed as too much of a rustic in London.”

  He paused and looked thoughtful for moment. “Don't spoil her with all manner of artificial airs and graces though. I can't abide those silly young chits with their ridiculous attitudes. Nor would I wish to see her married to the sort of fellow who finds them pleasing.”

  “Quite so my lord,” she replied. “But I think you have little to fear in that regard. I believe Sophy is far too sensible for such nonsense to appeal to her.”

  Glencairn rocked back on his heels and fidgeted a bit, as though he was a bit discomfited at having such a lengthy conversation. Catherine took pity on him and continued. “I see you have given this a great deal of thought Lord Glencairn, and it is indeed a most appropriate way to go about things. I suppose this means that you will be thinking of going to Town in the spring for the Season if you wish to seek a new Lady Glencairn?”

  Glencairn gazed at her with a somewhat stunned expression, rather, Catherine reflected, as though he were a stag suddenly confronted by a well-armed gillie. “Aaah, I suppose I must, Miss Dalburn,” he replied slowly, clearly pondering the actions involved in executing the plan he had so blithely outlined.

  Catherine turned away slightly to hide the smile she could not prevent from creeping across her face. “Will that be all for now?” she inquired.

  “What's that?” he said vaguely having turned back toward the library. “Oh, yes, yes, that will do for now Miss Dalburn.”

  As the Earl walked back into his library, Catherine took a few steps down the hall, then broke into a little skip of happiness. There was every likelihood that finding a well-connected wife would indeed mean a trip to London and the chance for Catherine as well as her charges, to enjoy some months in Town. She loved her native heath, of course, but a visit to London in the spring of the following year sounded like a delightful change indeed.

  Chapter 5.

  Catherine was still reveling in her secret knowledge of the upcoming visit to London several days later when Lord Glencairn startled her once again. She and Sophia had just finished breakfast, and were enjoying a second cup of chocolate when Lord Glencairn entered the breakfast room.

  “Good morning, Papa,” Sophy exclaimed, “What a surprise to encounter you at breakfast.”

  Glencairn smiled at her indulgently. “I received news with this morning's post that will interest you both, so I sought you out before lessons,” he said.

  “Interesting news?” Sophia echoed.

  “Indeed. Neither of you will recall this, but nearly a score of years past, my good friend the Duke of Strancaster was in the habit of coming here in the summer months for a bit of angling, along with his young sons. Now, the second of them has written me a letter asking if he may come visit for a few weeks. He's newly returned from the fighting in Spain and thinks that the Scottish hills will suit him better than the crowds of Brighton.”

  “Will you like to have him here, Papa? “ Sophia asked.

  “I think so, my dear. He was a fine youngster when I knew him, and I understand he acquitted himself very well on Wellington's staff in Spain.”

  “I'm sure that Douglas will be very happy to show him all the best spots for trout, as that will allow him to beg off studying for the fall term at Eton,” Sophia said naively.

  Glencairn laughed. “I won't mention your revelations to your brother,” he remarked. “But a young lad can learn nearly as much from fishing with a man like Major Lord Francis as he can from a geometry text.”

  He turned to Catherine. “With a duke's son visiting us, it will be necessary to do some entertaining, Miss Dalburn. I will ask our neighbor Lady Leithly to help with the hostess's duties when we have other guests present, but you will need to do much of the planning and attend several parties.”

  Catherine opened her mouth to demur, thinking of the hole that the purchase of two or three suitable gown
s would make in her savings.

  Glencairn interrupted her saying, “I know you will need appropriate attire, and I'll stand the nonsense for it. This will be Sophy's first opportunity to learn how to go on as a hostess, so you must consider it a part of your position as governess. Take Sophy with you to Dumfries and order her a dress or two suited to a girl just out of the schoolroom.”

  Sophia's scarcely contained excitement was visible and it was clear that she was only barely able to conceal her glee. But she managed to nod her head gravely as Catherine responded. “Very well my lord. Sophia and I will arrange a visit to Dumfries for the dresses. I'll also consult with Lady Leithly on arranging some appropriate entertainments. She is really the only other gentlewoman nearby who is modish and entertains enough to be helpful. Would you like me to suggest to her that she visit here to discuss the plans with you?”

  Glencairn looked nonplussed for a moment. “It would be vastly more convenient if you arranged it all with Lady Leithly and merely informed me of the plans,” he said eventually. “But I suppose it would be more the thing if after you two converse, I called upon her, accompanied by you and little Sophy, would it not?”

  “Since you are requesting her help, I certainly believe that a call would be best,” Catherine agreed rather faintly, a bit overwhelmed at the rate at which her summer seemed to be changing.

  “Very well, you and Sophy shall call upon Lady Leithly and broach the topic with her. When that's all settled, I'll pay a call upon her with you to lay out the entire plan of attack.” Looking well pleased with himself, Glencairn marched out of the breakfast room, leaving Catherine and Sophia to exchange excited glances.

  ***

  Dearest Pippa,

  I have such news to impart to you that I scarcely know where to begin! Yesterday was Miss Dalburn's half day, and she came to Dargenwater Cottage for a chat with me and told me two such astonishing things, that I am still quite amazed. The first is that Lord Francis Wheaton will be arriving here soon and staying some weeks with Lord Glencairn! You can scarcely imagine how pleased I am! Catherine tells me that his father is a great friend of Lord G, and as children Francis and his brother used to come with him to visit Glencairn in the summer for the angling. Somehow I am convinced that he may be interested in catching more than trout this year! When I last heard, he was planning to join the Regent's set in Brighton for the summer season, but I have no doubt that he learned that Isobel spends her summers here, and has changed his plans so that he can continue to press his suit. There is something very odd about the whole business though, for even though she says she will not marry Lord F nor any other, they seemed so very comfortable and even intimate with each other when one saw them together. I must confess that I have been a bit sly in saying nothing at all of his imminent arrival to dear Isobel! For I know that she will be quite discomfited by the news, and I fear she might do something rash, perhaps even depart for Kitswold, which I do not wish at all for reasons I will describe below. So, I plan to continue in my sin of omission and will pray for forgiveness instead when Lord F arrives. Although to be sure it may be difficult for me to truly repent of it, when I think it in her best interest to leave her uninformed!

  In any event, this summer bids fair to be more interesting than any other we have spent here, for naturally Lord G will wish to plan some entertainments for him, and as we are such close neighbors, we will certainly be invited. And this brings me to my second bit of most interesting news that I had from Miss D. Lord G is seeking a new wife! He has been a widower these ten years, but now it seems that he has decided that since he lives very retired here in the northern wilds, if he is to bring Lady Sophia out in London, and see her well married, he must wed. Miss D. says he wishes to find a lady not at all in the first flush of youth, but very well bred and well connected in the Ton, and who is well acquainted with, or can cultivate the patronesses of Almack's! My dear, do I not count Emily Cowper, Lady Jersey, and Lady Sefton among my intimates? And even that tiresome Mrs. Drummond-Burrell has nothing to say against me. I do not mean to vulgarly set my cap for him, you understand, but since it seems that chance will throw me quite often in his way in the next few weeks I would be a fool not to make a bit of an effort, wouldn't I? For although I will always have a home with Isobel, there are times when, like any lady, I wish for an establishment of my own. Since I love Lord G's children and his countryside already, surely it is only a short step to cherishing those feelings of tenderness and respect for the man himself as are necessary to marital happiness! I confide these thoughts only to you dear sister, and indeed almost fear committing them to paper, lest it be bad luck, but even a lady of eight and thirty may still nurture hope. I have written so much of our doings and asked nothing of what is happening in Kent, I fear. Please write me a long letter with all of your news.

  With much love to you all, Harriet

  Chapter 6

  Harriet sat in the drawing room of Ballydendargan Cottage, her feet resting on a footstool and her embroidery in her hands. The windows stood open to let in the afternoon breeze and the gentle song of the birds that clustered in the trees. It was a restful scene, and soon enough Harriet’s head began to droop over her stitchery. But just as she laid it aside and settled back for a comfortable snooze, the door flew open and Isobel appeared, her eyes alight with annoyance.

  “Oh my,” gasped Harriet, her eyes flying open as she reached for her sewing. “What is it, Isobel dear? You look furious.”

  Isobel glanced over her shoulder. “It is Lord Francis,” she hissed.

  Harriet’s face lit with pleasure. “Lord Francis? Here in Ballydendargan?”

  “Yes, and he came to find me at my excavation,” said Isobel. “He has accompanied me back to the cottage for tea.”

  “How delightful!” said Harriet. She cast Isobel a doubtful glance. “Or rather, what a pity.”

  “It is a great pity,” said Isobel heatedly, but then Lord Francis, who had divested himself of his hat and cane, appeared in the doorway at Isobel’s side. Harriet gave a little cry of delight.

  “Lord Francis!” she exclaimed. “What a wonderful surprise. I had no idea that we might be seeing you here in Scotland, not but what it is the unexpected visitor that is the most welcome. It is very odd that you should be here, of course; what brings you to this part of the kingdom?”

  Lord Francis smiled beguilingly at Harriet. “I had no intention of being here, ma'am, but I found that my friend Lord Glencairn was eager for my company.”

  Harriet glanced at Isobel, but that young woman still appeared to be greatly put out by the presence of an eligible and handsome gentleman. She shrugged mentally and pursued her conversation with his lordship with delight. If Isobel was minded to be unreasonable, there was no reason Harriet should not enjoy herself.

  Lord Francis stayed for tea and was very charming, despite Isobel’s obvious annoyance. As he departed, he bowed gracefully over her hand.

  “I am sure, now that the neighborhood will know of your presence, that our paths will cross many times,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

  With a bow and a smile he was gone, and Harriet gave Isobel a sharp look.

  “If you are not careful, my dear, you will drive that young man away all together,” she observed.

  “As though I care about Lord Francis!” said Isobel petulantly.

  “Well, I always thought more passed between the two of you in London than you wished to tell me,” said Harriet. “And I would never press you to tell me a secret that you did not wish to share. But for all you have been so rude to him—and you were rude, my dear,” she said as Isobel opened her mouth to protest, “he is a very kind gentleman, and an intelligent one as well, and you should think twice before you alienate his affections completely. It is not as though gentlemen like him arrive on your doorstep every day.”

  Isobel turned away and bit her lip. “I suppose I was not as polite as I might have been, but I was shocked to find him here. He surprised me at my exca
vation, and asked some very prying questions!”

  “And so he might, dearest, given that he found you digging about in the dirt after old coins and shards of pottery! And still he seems to wish to pay you the most polite attentions. I wonder that you can be angry with him.”

  “I have no intention of marrying anyone, even Lord Francis,” said Isobel, an edge of defiance in her voice.

  “And who is there to make you?” asked Harriet. “Surely you don’t think I will try to twist your arm? You are wholly in charge of your own future, and a very lucky woman that makes you indeed. But Lord Francis will have to ask you to marry him first. Or am I to understand that he has done so already?”

  Isobel stared at her, for once bereft of words. Harriet hid a smile.

  “I suppose I should not be asking such prying questions either, my dear—you did say how much they bother you,” she continued. “It is not at all kind of me; I wonder that you put up with my silliness. Your dealings with Lord Francis are your own, of course. But if you do truly wish him to leave you in peace, I’m sure you could find a way to tell him that he would understand. He is not the sort of man to force his attentions on a lady. I only ask that if you send him away you allow him to continue to visit me, for I must admit that I find him vastly amusing, and, though I should not say it, delightful to look at.”

  “It is not that I never wish to see Lord Francis again,” said Isobel. “Though I do not mean to marry him, of course. I am simply worried that his presence will keep me from pursuing my excavations to the extent that I would wish.”

  “Is that all?” asked Harriet. “You seem terribly put out simply because he came to your site. A politely worded request that he not bother you there would surely do the trick. Lord Francis is by no means stupid.”

  “Of course he is not!” said Isobel. “It is just that—that I—well, I must say I was very surprised to see him.”