Lady Whittonstall’s eyes glowed at this praise of her son. Eleanor risked a breath. Lady Whittonstall was proud of her son. Perhaps everything would be all right after all. Perhaps she was jumping to conclusions.
‘Ben is like that. Always doing things for others without regard to his own safety or prospects.’ Lady Whittonstall gave a heartfelt sigh. ‘Why he hasn’t been snapped up on the marriage market before now remains a profound mystery to me.’ Her gaze narrowed and she looked hard at Eleanor. Her gaze lingered on Eleanor’s dress. ‘So many women have tried, my dear, but he has remained oblivious...until now. Little did I guess that a veritable captain of industry would be what was required!’
Her faint laugh grated on Eleanor’s nerves.
Eleanor stared at Lady Whittonstall, feeling as if she’d stepped into a play that she didn’t understand. Ben had told her about the reasons for their marriage, hadn’t he? Or had he let her think it another sort of alliance? She could hardly ask Ben in front of his mother.
Eleanor put her hand to her mouth and tried not to panic. ‘There are not many of us about,’ she gasped out, trying to make it into a joke. ‘It must be that.’
There was no answering smile from Lady Whittonstall. If anything, her expression became distinctly glacial. ‘Yes, I can see you are quite unique.’
‘Eleanor and I are getting married on Monday, Mama.’ This time there was no mistaking the hint of steel in Ben’s voice.
‘That is why I am here.’ Lady Whittonstall gave a delicate cough.
Eleanor’s heart sank. One final unexpected hurdle. His mother disapproved.
‘To attend the wedding of my only child. Even if you insist on behaving in such a harum-scarum fashion. Why do you need to get married with such undue haste? We could have a large wedding. When you married Alice practically the entire ton was there. The Prince Regent along with two of his brothers attended. But now—marrying up here in the middle of nowhere! There is no one of any import! How could you, Benjamin?’
‘I have my reasons,’ Ben replied. ‘Eleanor’s stepfather recently died. I explained that in my letter.’
‘A large wedding would hardly be appropriate,’ Eleanor added as Lady Whittonstall’s frown increased. ‘The last thing we want is untoward gossip.’
‘Of course, of course.’ Lady Whittonstall waved a dismissive hand. ‘I trust my son to do the right thing. But a hasty marriage, Benjamin...people will talk.’
‘People always talk, Mama. That is the first rule you teach your protégées, isn’t it?’
A teasing note had entered Ben’s voice and Eleanor knew that it had to be a long-standing joke between them. A stab of envy went through her. She couldn’t imagine ever teasing her mother, and certainly not teasing someone who appeared as formidable as Lady Whittonstall. That was the difference between someone who was born to privilege and wealth and someone who had to work for them.
‘You have to control what they talk about rather than allow the talk to control you.’ A furrow appeared between Lady Whittonstall’s delicately arched brows. She gave a slight cough. ‘And your bride must be appropriately dressed—as befits someone who is marrying into one of the most respected families in London society. There will be a report in the papers. Imagine what the people at Almack’s would say if Miss Blackwell appeared in...in her work clothes!’
The dimple in Ben’s cheek deepened. ‘I trust Miss Blackwell has a dress that she can wear, but I have no wish to tempt fate by demanding to see it before the wedding day. Although I am given to understand that Miss Blackwell often wears breeches when she works, for safety reasons.’
Lady Whittonstall’s mouth opened and shut several times. Ben gave a snort of barely suppressed laughter. Eleanor smiled back at him.
‘Your intended wears breeches in public?’ Lady Whittonstall said in a faint voice.
‘I hardly plan to traipse down the aisle in breeches. I know the proper place to wear them,’ Eleanor retorted, and then quietly died at Lady Whittonstall’s astonished look.
‘There—you see, Mama. Miss Blackwell is highly sensible. But I will stop teasing you now. However, you must understand I am marrying Miss Blackwell and couldn’t care less what your friends at Almack’s say. Besides, think about the various women you have helped over the years. Many of them had far less than Miss Blackwell.’
‘Some people need more help than others,’ Lady Whittonstall said.
‘But the challenge makes it all the more rewarding.’
Eleanor’s stomach sank. It was one thing for her to worry and quite another for Ben to confirm it. He didn’t like her dress sense. In the back of her mind she heard her stepfather’s laughter and her mother’s despairing cries about nothing fashionable ever suiting her
colouring or her figure. She’d hated everything that her mother suggested. Buying clothes with her mother had been a chore to be endured and not enjoyed. She much preferred to wear things that she knew were presentable and in keeping with her status.
‘You will allow yourself to be guided, Miss Blackwell? I have years of experience.’ Lady Whittonstall cleared her throat. ‘I have made successes out of more unpromising subjects...it would be a privilege and an honour to assist you.’
‘I know my own style,’ Eleanor replied. The last thing she wanted was a repetition of the situation she’d had with her own mother.
‘Miss Blackwell is not one of your debutantes, Mama.’ Ben placed his hand on Eleanor’s shoulder. The simple touch warmed her. He smiled grimly. ‘Just so you remember, Mama. Eleanor will be my wife, and not your protégée. You can give her advice but not insist.’
Silently Eleanor blessed Ben. She hadn’t expected him to rush to her defence like that. Some day, she promised herself, she would make him proud of her. He wasn’t proud today. She knew that. How could he be? How could anyone be? She’d made a fool of herself, she looked like something the cat had dragged in, and she’d completely jumped to the wrong conclusion. The knowledge washed over her and silently she vowed that she would do better. She would succeed. She would show Lady Whittonstall and most of all Ben that she was worthy of being a viscountess, that she could do both—be a viscountess and run a successful company. That she wasn’t some unsophisticated girl but a mature businesswoman who could move effortlessly in any situation. Then she’d be worthy of Ben’s admiration.
The dowager Lady Whittonstall had the grace to flush.
‘You make me sound like a dragon. I’m hardly that. I am simply a mother who wishes the best for her only child,’ she said with a smile that did not reach her eyes. ‘It will give me great pleasure to look after Miss Blackwell. Society can be such a tricky thing when one is ignorant of its ways.’
Eleanor concentrated on breathing steadily. In and out. What could she say in answer to that?
‘If you will give me a few moments I will make myself presentable—’ Eleanor began, but was interrupted by one of the cutlers who needed to speak to her urgently about his grindstone and a broken leather strap.
‘I’m sure that someone else can deal with this man’s enquiry.’ Lady Whittonstall gave an elegant wave of her hand. ‘Benjamin has promised me a picnic. You must join us, my dear. I am all ears to learn how you manage your...business.’
‘I’m sure someone else can’t, Lady Whittonstall,’ Eleanor said between gritted teeth. ‘That is why he came to me.’
‘We have disrupted Eleanor’s routine, Mama,’ Ben said. ‘She is needed here. She has business to attend to. She made that quite clear to me earlier. Business must come first. The picnic must go on without her today.’
‘If you are too busy I will understand,’ Lady Whittonstall said. ‘We don’t wish to interrupt and be bothersome. After all, I am merely your prospective mother-in-law.’
‘Moles is my reason for marrying your son, Lady Whittonstall. It has to come first,’ Eleano
r said, and hurried away before either of them could say another word. Before she burst into tears at the humiliation of it all. That would ruin everything.
She paused on the threshold of the office and looked up at her grandfather’s portrait. He seemed sterner than ever. As if he knew that rather than facing Lady Whittonstall down she’d relied on Ben’s assurances and had been tempted to neglect her duty. Somehow she had to keep from falling in love with Ben. Somehow she had to remember that Moles was the most important thing in her life, constant and unchanging.
* * *
‘There was no cause for you to be rude to Eleanor this afternoon,’ Ben said, handing his mother her pre-dinner glass of port.
Three of her Pomeranian dogs circled about her feet. His mother, like her friend Queen Charlotte, was an enthusiastic breeder of Pomeranians and rarely travelled without at least three of the little dogs.
‘Was I rude?’ His mother gave a discreet signal and all three dogs sat, wagging their tails, waiting for their pre-dinner treat. From a silver tray, his mother fed the dogs slivers of meat. After completing her task, she turned and gave him a beatific smile. ‘I wanted to meet my prospective daughter-in-law and was presented with a woman who looked like a street urchin. And that dress is two seasons out of date. Who wears frills these days? My girls—’
‘Eleanor is not one of your girls,’ Ben said, cutting her tirade off before his mother started. ‘She never will be.’
‘But she has absolutely no fashion sense. There is so much to be done with Miss Blackwell before she is fit for society.’
Ben tapped his finger against his own glass of port. He knew his mother’s bad impression was his fault. He should have warned Eleanor. But he suspected his mother would have found fault whatever the circumstance. Eleanor was as far from his mother’s protégées as possible. And he wanted it that way.
‘Eleanor will be my wife, and you should treat her with respect. She is not clay to mould as you see fit.’
‘And are you telling me that I shouldn’t be concerned?’ His mother gave one of the dogs a pat on the head, before taking a considering sip of her port. ‘You are about to humiliate the entire family by marrying someone whom polite society will laugh at. Benjamin, I truly believe you are rushing into things without considering the consequences...for everyone.’
‘The consequences are my concern, not yours.’
‘And you want me to give my blessing to this little enterprise of yours?’
‘Not particularly, as it is my marriage.’ Ben kept hold of his temper. His mother should know better. She was merely upset because he hadn’t decided to marry one of her protégées. Once she became better acquainted with Eleanor she’d be reconciled to the fact. He had to admit that he hadn’t anticipated her antipathy, or that she’d travel up north at such a speed. Or that there would be an accident at the foundry.
Viv, who had just come in the drawing room, smothered his laugh with a cough. Ben merely raised an eyebrow. But it was helpful that his cousin saw the humour in the situation.
‘That woman has no sense of propriety. She will be a disaster in London. You mark my words. Everyone will see and comment.’ His mother began to warm to her theme, punctuating her words with rapid jabs of her hands.
Ben exchanged a wry glance with Viv.
‘Aunt Violet,’ Viv said, his face no longer bothering to hide his dismay. ‘Miss Blackwell enjoys an excellent reputation in certain quarters. You are overly worried. I, for one, have faith in Miss Blackwell’s judgement, and in Ben’s sense in marrying her.’
‘There is so much I could do for her...if you would allow me but a few weeks. I could completely transform her. Postpone the marriage and allow me to work my magic.’
‘What sort of magic is required?’ Viv gave a laugh. ‘I have seen Miss Blackwell blossom over the past couple of weeks. It is a pity that I hadn’t appreciated her charm before she became engaged to Ben. Otherwise he’d have a run for his money. There is something so pleasing about a woman who can converse on subjects that interest a man.’
His mother’s hand froze with the glass of port halfway to her lips. ‘Her dress had far too many ruffles. It was more suitable for a debutante in her first season rather than an aging spinster like Miss Blackwell.’
‘Miss Blackwell is younger than me,’ Ben answered, his amusement fading.
‘You could have married a hundred women who would have done you proud. Who would dance gracefully and know what is expected of a viscountess. Can your Miss Blackwell do any of those things? Is she even capable of it? And what about producing a child?’
Ben drew a deep breath and counted to ten. His mother was obsessed with her dynasty and future generations. A cold chill ran down his back at what might happen. But this time he knew where he’d made mistakes. ‘That is in God’s hands. Surely you are not going to presume...?’
‘Benjamin, don’t blaspheme. I take your point. You are marrying the chit and you refuse to save her from humiliation. For your sake I will attempt to be her friend.’ His mother put her port down with a bang.
The dogs all gave a sharp bark. At Ben’s look they hid their faces behind their paws, showing only the tips of their bat-like ears.
‘I hope you know me well enough to agree that I try very hard to be kind. I want to save the chit from herself.’
‘Once you get to know Eleanor I am sure you will find many things to admire,’ Ben said, pinning her with his gaze. ‘I’m pleased you have decided to try.’
‘Now, shall we speak of something more pleasant?’ his mother said. ‘I want your advice on a new carriage. I need something stunning for when I take the morning air in Hyde Park. My dogs demand it.’
Ben mentally sighed. Her dogs wanted a new carriage? Sometimes his mother stretched the bounds of credibility.
Since his mother had arrived she had kept up a steady stream of requests for little things that she needed him to do, or things she needed his advice on. Nothing
onerous, but things she could easily do herself—things he suspected she would do if he was not within earshot. But because he loved her he’d made sure her port was poured, the books she wanted were placed by her bedside, and that her maid understood how his mother liked things unpacked. Although Marie had been with his mother for the last ten years, and if she didn’t understand by now she never would. He’d even made sure that the cook had provided the right diet for her dogs.
‘I trust you to know your dogs’ taste, Mama. You always seem to.’
‘But I can’t possibly make such an important decision without your input.’ She paused, and two spots of colour appeared on her cheeks. ‘Of course if you are too busy I will give way.’
‘I’m not sure what you mean, Mother. You will get whichever carriage suits your fancy as you always do,’ Ben said, when he knew he’d be able to answer evenly and without rancour.
‘But I like knowing that you agree with me. But you are obviously too busy with your fiancée’s company. After all you saved the day today. That company is in a sorry state.’
‘How could you tell?’
‘The amount of rubbish everywhere.’ His mother waved an airy hand. ‘She’s looking for someone to take over and has latched on to you. You have other duties, Benjamin. You can’t go running something like that as well.’
‘You mistook Eleanor’s words, Mother.’ Ben inclined his head. He was proud of the way Eleanor had coped today. Alice would have given way to hysterics and demanded that he handle everything. It was refreshing not to have someone cling to him, but he didn’t want Eleanor to have to shoulder her burdens herself. The memory of the three scars on her wrist haunted him.
‘I’m sure I didn’t.’
‘Eleanor is more than capable of running her company. She doesn’t need to ask my advice. Furthermore, she will be able to negotiate society’s shoals w
ithout a problem. You simply caught her unawares at a bad time.’
‘Your wife needs to be so much more than a woman who can simply avoid problems. Any number of women can do that. You need someone who can be at your side and push your advantage. You come from a noble lineage and you will want your descendants to have the same advantages you enjoy.’ His mother laid a hand on his arm and looked up at him with eyes the exact replicas of his. ‘I don’t want you to be hasty. I worry, Benjamin. You enjoy playing the white knight, but should you ruin your life?’
Ben covered her hand with his. His mother wanted what she saw was best for him. But long gone were the days when he’d done things solely to please her. Alice had always insisted on keeping his mother contented, deferring to her constantly. After Alice had gone he’d found her private journal, where she’d confided her hopes and fears. Until he’d read that he hadn’t realised the extent of his mother’s meddling, and how she had dictated that Alice should always give in to his demands and let him win. ‘It is my life. I thought you were keen on me marrying again. My duty, you called it the last time we spoke on the subject. I’ve given Miss Blackwell my word.’
His mother’s eyes narrowed. ‘Tell me the truth. Were you caught with her? How far has this gone? Her waist is slender, but...’
‘Good God, no.’ Ben ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to tear his mind away from an image of a well-kissed Eleanor. Her lips had plagued his dreams for the last few nights, and the dreams were growing more and more explicit. Each time he saw her he wanted more of her. Had they not been interrupted, he dreaded to think what would have happened, what scandal they could have caused. ‘Do you truly think so little of me that I would seduce a respectable woman?’
‘I saw you holding her through the open door of that building! And if I saw you think about how many other people might have seen you.’
‘We are engaged,’ Ben said, as steadily as he could. With his mother in this mood he had little appetite for confessing why he had made his offer for Eleanor. His mother didn’t need to know about the will. ‘There was nothing wrong in that, and Eleanor had just survived an accident. What is wrong in offering comfort?’
His Unsuitable Viscountess Page 11
