by Beers, Laura
Cosgrove chuckled. “I see that you haven’t lost your cantankerous persona.”
“I’m afraid I’m rather busy at the moment,” Roswell grumbled as he brought his glass to his lips.
Townsend turned his attention towards Charles. “Why is our dear friend so annoyed today?”
Charles leaned back in his chair. “My mother is hosting a young woman this Season, and it greatly vexes him.”
“Do continue,” Townsend said, smiling. “You have piqued my interest.”
“This particular young woman is quite beautiful, but Roswell takes issue with the fact that she doesn’t have a dowry,” Charles explained.
“She doesn’t have a dowry?” Cosgrove asked.
Charles shook his head.
“That is most unfortunate, but it doesn’t mean she won’t make a match this Season,” Cosgrove said.
Townsend bobbed his head. “I agree,” he remarked. “It isn’t unheard of for people to marry for love.”
Roswell scoffed. “Love?” he asked. “Now you are just spouting nonsense.”
Townsend shifted in his seat to face him. “How so?”
“Love has no place in a marriage,” Roswell declared. “It is a foundation that will crumble upon its first real test of devotion.”
Cosgrove smirked. “I see that Roswell has been reading sonnets again,” he joked.
“You can mock me all you want, but you know I am right,” Roswell declared. “Any man that falls in love is a fool.”
Townsend rubbed his hands together. “I find myself intrigued by this young woman.”
“Her name is Miss Bentley, and she is the daughter of the late Lord Worthington,” Charles shared.
“I have great respect for Lord Worthington,” Townsend said. “He served admirably in the House of Lords.”
“That he did,” Roswell agreed.
Cosgrove looked at him in surprise. “Was that an elusive compliment from Roswell?” he teased.
“Why am I friends with you again?” Roswell asked.
“Because no one else can put up with you,” Cosgrove responded.
Roswell took a sip of his drink. “Miss Bentley is no more than a country bumpkin and is beneath our notice,” he asserted.
“That is rather crass of you to say,” Townsend argued. “Lord Worthington served this country with honor, and his family should be treated with no less respect.”
“Perhaps Roswell wants to keep Miss Bentley for himself,” Cosgrove said.
Slamming his empty glass onto the table, Roswell declared, “I assure you that is not the case. Any man that ties himself to a young woman like her has my sympathies.”
Townsend looked at him curiously. “What is it about her that you don’t like, putting aside that she doesn’t have a dowry?” he asked.
Roswell pursed his lips together as he pondered Townsend’s question. What did he find so irritating about Miss Bentley? Could it be that she was entirely too stubborn for her own good or was it because of how she had challenged him at dinner?
Knowing his friend was still waiting for a response, he replied, “If you must know, she is a very disagreeable young woman.”
Townsend didn’t look convinced by his remarks, and Charles’ rueful head shaking didn’t help. “I believe it would be worth my time to become acquainted with this Miss Bentley.”
“That is a foolish thing to do,” Roswell asserted. “There could be no future between you.”
“That’s not true, especially since my family does not lack for money,” Townsend said. “A young woman that doesn’t possess a dowry wouldn’t be as detrimental to me as most other gentlemen of the ton.”
“I wish you luck, then.” Roswell rose. “If you will excuse me, I believe it is time for me to depart for the evening.”
“But the night is still young,” Cosgrove stated.
Roswell pushed his chair in. “Perhaps another night.”
“You always say that,” Townsend complained.
“One day I might mean it,” Roswell said as he walked away.
4
Ellie sat on the settee next to the fireplace with a book in her hand. She was attempting to read, but her mind kept straying towards her mother. She hoped she was all right without her, although she already knew that answer. Her mother was a formidable woman, but she had already suffered greatly at the hand of Lord Worthington.
Ellie shuddered at the thought of that man. He had made her uncomfortable from the moment his eyes first landed on her. It wasn’t long before he offered for her hand, despite it being entirely inappropriate to do so since she was still grieving her father. After she had refused him, they were removed from the manor and sent to live in the cottage.
A knock came at the door, breaking her from her musings.
“Enter,” she ordered.
The door opened and Emma stepped into the room, still dressed in the gown she had worn for dinner. “I just wanted to say how happy I am that you are here,” she expressed.
“You are?”
Emma nodded. “My mother can be rather overbearing at times,” she hesitated, “she means well, but it can be rather exhausting.”
“My mother is the same way.”
Walking over to the bed, Emma sat down on it. “We should be so fortunate to have mothers such as ours, but I tire of her listing my many accomplishments to suitors.”
“Does she?”
Emma nodded. “She has no qualms about it, either.”
“That is quite bold.”
Emma smiled. “My mother is just that,” she said. “I suppose it is one of the things I love most about her.”
Ellie put the book down next to her on the settee. “My mother is much more reserved, but no less strong.”
“I wish I could meet your mother,” Emma remarked. “Do you suppose she will visit you this Season?”
She shook her head. “I doubt it. It is rather expensive to ride on the mail coach to Town.”
“What if we were to send a coach?”
Ellie pressed her lips together in thought, then said, “I doubt she would come. She is adamant about staying in Maidstone.”
“May I ask why?”
Rising, she walked over to the bed and sat down next to Emma. “The new Lord Worthington is the most despicable of men, and he has decided that he will marry me.”
“That is awful.”
“I have refused him, multiple times, but he has continually made our lives increasingly difficult,” she shared. “That is why my mother sent me here.”
“I understand.”
“Frankly, marrying well is my only option,” Ellie said. “By doing so, I can save my mother from Lord Worthington’s evil clutches.”
“Surely, he can’t be evil.”
“After one of my rejections, our beloved dog disappeared.”
Emma’s eyes grew wide. “You don’t think he harmed the dog?”
Ellie gave a half-shrug. “It wouldn’t surprise me, but he did claim that he had nothing to do with it.”
“Well, we must get your mother out of there,” Emma said, jumping from the bed. “I will go speak to my mother at once.”
Ellie rose as well. “You must promise me that you won’t say anything to anyone about what we discussed.”
“Why is that?” she asked. “We are in a position to help.”
“You must understand that Lord Worthington controls her jointure,” Ellie explained. “Furthermore, he has no idea where I am right now, and my mother wants to keep it that way.”
“You just want me to stand by and do nothing?”
Ellie bobbed her head. “I know I am asking a great deal from you, but the only way out of my current situation is to marry. And quickly.”
“Then I shall help you with that.”
“You will?”
Emma smiled. “I am currently on my fourth season,” she said. “I know a thing or two about the marriage mart.”
“Have you ever had a serious suitor?”
“I thought I did last Season,” Emma replied, “but it turned out that his heart had already been claimed by another.”
“I am sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be,” Emma replied. “I suspected that was the case all along, but a part of me had been hanging on to hope.”
“Hope,” Ellie repeated with a laugh. “Don’t let your brother hear you say that word.”
Emma giggled. “I am sorry about the despicable way he spoke to you at dinner,” she said. “That was poorly done on his part.”
“Your brother is rather an argumentative sort.”
“Yes, he is,” Emma agreed. “He has been that way since my father died.”
“He must have taken his death hard.”
Emma sighed. “We all did, but Roswell has become a different person.”
“That must be hard for you to watch.”
“He is suffering, but I’m afraid there is nothing I can do to help him,” Emma said. “He has closed himself off from everyone and everything.”
Ellie sat back down on the bed. “Grief is the most peculiar thing. It can have so much control over us if we allow it to.”
Sitting down next to her, Emma said, “I daresay that it has consumed my brother.”
“He will come around.”
Emma’s face softened. “I wish I shared your optimism.”
“There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about my father,” Ellie said. “He would be furious at the ill treatment Lord Worthington has bestowed upon us.”
“I have no doubt.”
“I hope you never have to meet Lord Worthington.”
“Why is that?”
Ellie brought her hand up to her mouth as she admitted, “He reminds me of a troll.”
“A troll?”
“He has these big ears, round face, and is bald,” she replied. “Furthermore, his temperament is just awful. He uses kind words, but his actions are anything but.”
“How so?”
“After I turned down his first offer of marriage, he made my mother and I move out of the manor and into a dilapidated cottage on the far side of the estate,” she explained. “He let us retain a small staff until I rejected him again. Then, he only let us keep a housekeeper.”
“How horrible.”
“He is not a nice man,” Ellie asserted.
“No, he is not.”
Ellie reached for a pillow and hugged it against her chest. “He wouldn’t even let me take my gowns with me,” she said. “I was only allowed my sturdier cotton dresses.”
“That is awful,” Emma murmured. “I have more than enough gowns, and you are welcome to borrow any of them.”
“That is most kind of you, but I do intend to purchase some gowns in town tomorrow.”
“It still could take days, if not weeks, before those gowns arrive,” Emma said. “Until then, I insist you have full access to my gowns.”
“I don’t know what I did to deserve your kindness.”
“It is not about deserving, Ellie,” Emma said. “I have been fortunate in my life and I am in a position to help you.”
“Thank you.”
Emma leaned forward and embraced her. “It will all work out in the end,” she encouraged. “You shall see.”
“I hope so.”
Rising, Emma asked, “Do you still intend to go riding with us tomorrow?”
“I do.”
“Wonderful,” Emma replied. “We shall be looking forward to it.”
Ellie found herself smiling after she was left alone in her bedchamber. It felt good to have a friend like Emma in her life.
Roswell sat at the head of the table as he read the morning newspaper. He had just turned the page when he noticed that Miss Bentley was standing in the doorway, looking entirely unsure of herself. She was dressed in a dark blue riding habit with her brown hair pulled into a tight chignon. If women were selected based solely upon their looks, then Miss Bentley would be highly sought after. But that wasn’t the case. The ton could be quite unforgiving to the unfortunate.
He lowered the paper. “May I help you with something, Miss Bentley?”
“I was hoping to eat some breakfast.”
“And you are looking for my permission?”
She pressed her lips together, then said, “I do not mean to bother you, my lord.”
“Well, I’m afraid you failed in that regard.” He gestured towards the buffet table. “Go on, then. Help yourself to some breakfast.”
“Thank you,” she said as she stepped over and claimed a plate.
Roswell brought the paper back up and started reading it again. He stifled the groan that came to his lips when Miss Bentley came to sit to the right of him.
A footman placed a cup of chocolate in front of her and she promptly reached for it. A look of pure pleasure came to her face as she took a long sip of the warm drink.
“Have you not had chocolate before?” he asked.
She put the cup back down on the saucer and offered him a timid smile. “I’m afraid it has been quite some time since I have had it.”
“We have plenty,” he assured her. “You can have as much as you would like.”
“That is kind of you, my lord.”
Roswell glanced at her curiously. “Why is it that you don’t request a tray in your room?”
“I prefer to eat in the parlor.” She paused. “At least, I used to.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’m afraid our small cottage does not have a parlor,” she admitted, “but it allows us to be much less formal.”
“Pray tell, how many servants do you employ at this cottage?”
“One,” she replied. “Our housekeeper.”
His brow lifted. “You only have one servant?” he repeated in surprise.
“It’s not as terrible as it sounds,” she insisted. “I have learned to make do with much less, and I have discovered I do not miss much.”
“Except chocolate,” he pointed out.
She glanced down at the cup. “Yes, precisely.”
“Does Lord Worthington reside at the cottage with you?”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “He lives at the manor on the other side of the estate.”
“Why do you not live at the manor?”
Something flashed in Miss Bentley’s eyes, but he wasn’t able to decipher it. “My mother and I get along quite nicely at the cottage,” she said. “I even have chores.”
“Chores?” he repeated back.
“I collect the eggs every morning before breakfast,” she admitted proudly.
“Are you in earnest?”
“I am.”
“A young woman of your station should never be collecting eggs,” he admonished. “That is what servants are for.”
“Well, our housekeeper is generally busy making our breakfast,” she said.
“Then you hire another one.”
“I’m afraid that is an impossibility for us.”
Roswell folded the newspaper and put it on the table. “No sensible man would want a young woman who has calloused hands from hard work.”
“Then I suppose I’m looking for an insensible man.” She smiled.
“Do be serious.”
“I am, my lord.”
Roswell leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You must stop this madness,” he urged. “You will only embarrass yourself by participating in the Season.”
“It is a risk that I am willing to take.”
“And if you embarrass this family?”
“Why would I do that?”
His voice took on a stern edge. “If you recall, my mother is hosting you, and she is putting her reputation on the line.”
“I am well aware of what is at stake.”
“I hope so, Miss Bentley,” he said, leaning back. “If you do anything that jeopardizes this family’s reputation, then I will hold you personally responsible.”
“I assure you that I will be on my b
est behavior, my lord.”
“I am pleased to hear that, but that isn’t good enough.”
“No?”
“I want you to act as if your entire future depends on it.”
Miss Bentley looked at him steadfastly for a long moment before saying, “I know precisely what is at stake.” He could tell she was in earnest.
Before he could respond, his sister walked into the room. “Good heavens, Roswell!” she exclaimed. “Will you stop with the interrogation?”
“I was not interrogating Miss Bentley.”
“It sure appeared as if you were,” Emma pressed as she walked over to the buffet. “Breakfast is not the time for such heavy questions.”
Roswell shifted his gaze towards his sister. “Why are you not taking breakfast in your room?”
“Because I had a sneaking suspicion that my dear friend Ellie would be eating in the parlor.”
“Your dear friend?” he questioned. “When did this happen?”
Emma sat down next to Ellie, and they exchanged a look. “Last night,” his sister replied. “We spoke at great lengths and bonded over our disdain of you.”
Roswell cast his expression heavenward. “I believe I am going to arrange a marriage for you with the Duke of Weatherby.”
“You could try,” Emma said, “but I would run away with Lord Featherstone to Gretna Green first.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” he shouted.
“I would, if you tried to marry me off to a man old enough to be my grandfather’s father.”
The sound of Charles chuckling from the doorway drew his attention. “Why are you threatening to marry Emma off to the Duke of Weatherby?”
“It is time that Emma learns her place,” Roswell declared.
“And you think His Grace is the man to do that?” Charles asked, amused. “Emma would run circles around him.”
Emma smiled tenderly at Charles. “Thank you, brother,” she said. “I fear that Roswell’s mind is muddled this morning.”
“Why do you say that?” Charles asked.
“I caught him interrogating Miss Bentley over breakfast,” Emma revealed.
Roswell huffed. “I was not interrogating her,” he asserted. “I merely mentioned a few obvious things to her.”
“Such as?” Charles asked.
“What is at stake for our family’s pristine reputation if she makes a mistake,” Roswell pointed out.
