Over the many courses of goose, venison, partridges, platters of oysters, garden and hothouse vegetables, fruits from the orchards, soup and slices of breads, followed by the magnificent desserts of nougat almond cake, compote of pears, and dessert biscuits, each one of the diners learned several things.
One reminder for the Marquis of Sandshire, eating too much rich food didn’t help one’s gout even when sitting next to two glorious creatures like the Winston ladies.
A hint for the Earl of Carlyle that he wasn’t present to enjoy himself and admire the cunning whit of beautiful women but only to see his reckless cousins married and out of his father’s hair.
Lady Whistle reminded herself that this particular gown needed a few seams loosened, that she should not have accepted that third piece of almond cake, and that spilling tea onto one’s sleeve was acceptable at her age.
Lords Bristol and Darlington both decided that having wives might not be the trouble they’d imagined. That beauty like Sara and Audrey Winston possessed could entice a gentleman to stay home on occasion, have something to flaunt about Town and be an easy price to pay in order to keep their generous allowance from the marquis.
Sara Rose Winston learned she was better at tolerance than she’s suspected and that if she emptied her mind of all thoughts, corrections, facts, and education she could listen to both young lords with some semblance of enjoyment.
Audrey Winston frowned more than smiled and though Sara nudged her under the table with hand and toe, Audrey found it hard to hide her dismay. Neither Lord Darlington nor Lord Bristol seemed to have two thoughts in their heads that meant anything, required an answering response, or inspired her to keep her eyelids from drooping.
Audrey’s thoughts rang fast in her mind.
“It’s only because I am tired from the journey.”
“I will learn the ways of the ton and become a better actress and conversationalist of the trivial.”
“I must please Sara and uncle, who want only the best for me.”
“Surely they cannot both be so silly. Perhaps nervousness, the idea of marriage has jarred their brains.”
And stronger still was the only thought left, “I cannot have either of them. I would rather ride off dressed as a military man and join a band of Gypsies.”
PART THREE
Earl of Carlyle
Prospects
I
For the next week, the ladies enjoyed their walks around the expansive rose gardens, their visit to the hothouse to see how the roses and orchids were cultivated, and to whisper about the gentlemen inside the giant mansion of Riverside.
“Sara, Lord Darlington is a talented rider, a little rough with his tight reins and whip hand though. There are so many times I want to correct him if I thought he wouldn’t take offense,” Audrey said turning to observe the movement of the mares in a nearby field.
“I daresay he might. Best to hold your tongue, Audrey. Besides that, are there any other traits about him you could admire?” Sara asked.
Audrey looked over at her sweet sister and frowned. “I’m afraid not. I’m sorry, Sara. I have tried to like him. He chatters for hours and says nothing. He never asks for my opinion. A life with that gentleman would be like being a moth forced to fly around a dim flame.”
“I heard him say another one of the rogue phrases last night,” Sara confessed. “You are right, he often uses them.”
“You know I care about you, don’t you?”
“The day I met you was the best day of my life.”
“It was the best night I ever remember having.”
“Think about the good times we shared and just know there’s more to come.”
“You mean those?” Audrey chuckled.
“Yes,” Sara replied. “I can’t listen to either of them without thinking about poor little Bethany Grassley.”
“Me either. I doubted that all rogues spoke in the same coded phrases but now I see it’s true,” Audrey confessed. “Their words mean nothing, do they?”
“I’m not sure that everything they say is a practiced fib. Some things are just wishful untruths,” with that, Sara burst into loud laughter.
Her sister took her arm and said, “You mean the time Bristol said, ‘I believe that ace belonged in my hand.’ Or the time Darlington complained, ‘Carlyle, you can’t possibly have won that last game, no one is that skilled at whist.’”
Sara noticed a softening in her sister’s voice when she spoke the name Carlyle, and she turned to catch a light blush on Audrey’s cheeks.
“He’s very handsome, isn’t he?” Sara asked.
“Who, Darlington? He is pleasant enough.”
“Don’t try to fool me, Earl of Carlyle ringing bells in your head?” Sara asked gently. “Be careful sister. Remember, he is just here to help the marquis get those two cousins married and gone. Carlyle is not here for us. Don’t lose your heart to him.”
“I must confess I admire him. When you and I spoof the young lords, the earl is always somewhere close smiling at us. He catches each of our jests though we try very hard to appear innocent and pleasing,” Audrey said gaily.
“He is a handsome and powerful gentleman with a keen mind, but not for you, Audrey,” Sara warned. “But if ‘wishes were horses, beggars would ride’ and I too must confess I greatly admire the marquis.”
“Lord Sandshire? Sara, he’s a marquis and rich as a prince,” Audrey said kindly. “You two would suit in temperament and interests. That’s true. And I notice his sapphire eyes often resting on you. You know sister; I believe we are shooting too low.”
“What do you mean?” Sara smiled touching her sister’s arm and leading her inside a rose arbor to sit by one of the glorious fountains on the grounds.
“Remember what Uncle Winston said to us that last day? He was very proud of himself for arranging these matches and he said, ‘I have shot very high,’ well, if he thought Lord Bristol and Lord Darlington were high prizes wouldn’t he be proud of us if we could capture the hearts of an earl and a marquis?”
“Audrey,” Sara giggled, “Surely you jest. Why we are lucky to have those two young lords here to offer for us. No other lady in Briar Way would scoff at such a chance. Imagine Mary Gannon if she were here and meeting Lord Darlington.”
“She would swoon,” Audrey laughed then her face pulled grim and she nodded. “I see your point. We are lucky to be guests here. Luckier still that our uncle and the marquis arranged such noble lords for us. We cannot shoot ourselves in the foot wanting more.”
“No, we cannot. We are spoiled by our free life at Summer Garden. We have grown too independent and too relaxed in our manners. We have taken for granted that we would always have control of our own fields and farms, our animals, and property. If something happened to uncle, both of us would lose Summer Garden to that terrible second cousin, Walter Ansley.”
“It is amusing to imagine the dashing earl as my future husband but it is too high, isn’t it?” Audrey asked her sister, her pale eyes searching Sara’s face for some indication that she was wrong in her thinking.
“Yes, darling. It is too high. You must find a way to see Lord Darlington with kinder eyes. Perhaps if you saw him as the man he might be with your subtle guidance and influence.”
“Ah,” said Audrey not quite convinced. “Like a child then. I know a young pup! That’s how I must see Lord Darlington. All rambunctious energy, running here and there, tearing at things, and needing training.”
“Exactly so,” Sara said merrily. “I’ve seen your patience and understanding with a new litter of pups. You give them great leeway but with a soft nudge of your slipper, a stern reprimand, and a kind caress, you have trained both hounds and horses and made them into manageable beasts.”
“I have,” Audrey said with a bit of a smile. “I can do it if I set my mind to it. I can train Darlington and make him a better gentleman and a good husband.”
“And when you do change him, you can love him, just a little,” Sara said kindly. “O
pen your heart and put down your daggers sweetheart. You must marry him. You have to secure this future for yourself.”
“What about you?” Audrey asked glancing into her sister’s pale gray eyes.
“No fancy marquis for me either,” Sara said. “Lord Bristol it is. I shall follow my own advice and accept my fate. Yes, we will have bright futures. We just have to accept reality and make the gentlemen, Bristol and Darlington both work.”
Prospects Perhaps
II
“It’s hard to take your eyes off of those two, isn’t it?” Marquis of Sandshire asked his son.
Turning from the French doors, Carlyle nodded seriously and replied, “You have to admit they have forbearance. Night after night, playing cards with those two fools, smiling sweetly at repeated jests, and looking on kindly as the gentlemen complain.”
“The weather, too hot or too cold, their lack of good hands at whist, the short delays from the stables, the soup not quite warm enough,” Sandshire said sharply. “Half of my staff is ready to leave me. Bristol and Darlington enjoy playing lord of the manor and forget they are my guests.”
“I know father, poor Mrs. Black has had complaints from the upstairs maids about the amount of work the young lords leave in their rooms. My valet, Waters refuses to assist them. Even more remarkable do the Winston sisters appear when dealing with those two rogues,” Carlyle said.
“I have seen Sara almost release her ire on Bristol a few times in the morning when he refuses to sit and continues to pace near the window as if expecting to see the temperature rise,” the marquis said.
“Yes, it is annoying, him marching about, his Hessians hitting the floorboards hard as if he’s marching to war,” Carlyle said. “What is he about?”
“I have word, the groundskeeper has mentioned something,” Sandshire said with a wink. “I won’t act on it yet. I want to watch the ne’er-do-well ‘hoist himself with one’s own petard’ be responsible for his own failure.”
“Why is that? Are you rooting for Bristol to fail in his courtship with Sara Winston?” Carlyle asked glancing once more out the glass doors and searching for the ladies among the roses.
“I want him to make a successful man of himself and seize this opportunity or fail at it miserably and earn his fate,” the marquis said.
The handsome son studied his father’s features and smiled. “You are attracted to Sara aren’t you father?”
“What sane man wouldn’t be attracted but it’s more than that. One afternoon while Bristol was missing, I asked her to come into my study to show her the paintings of my properties.”
“Ah, those lovely landscapes. And what did she think?” Carlyle asked.
“It was remarkable,” Sandshire grinned. “Other women who visited here and saw the artwork mentioned the shades of green the artist chose the wide expanse of the sky or the quality of the brushstrokes.”
“And what did Miss Sara Winston say?” Carlyle asked with interest.
The marquis chuckled and replied, “She leaned in very close to each painting, taking her time and studying everything about them. She made little sounds in the back of her throat that sounded very much like a satisfied ladybird, then she turned to me and said, ‘Sandshire come here. Tell me about those drainage flows, their construction is quite amazing. Are you using limestone on those back walls? And those fields of wheat, they seem to be over-exaggerated for the crop appears to be too tall. However, do you grow such fine crops? And look at this one the way the barns are so carefully positioned to catch the afternoon sun and here, those orchards…’ It was mesmerizing. I swear she went on for about half an hour until I believe she had asked me about every change I’d made to the properties in twenty years.”
Carlyle almost gasped. “Dear Lord. And were her comments just a lady trying to please or were they intelligent remarks?”
“No,” the marquis smiled. “Sara was not trying to please. She was actually interested. Some of her remarks cut my pride for she did make several suggestions which I found sound.”
Carlyle laughed heartily. “That must have been a new experience for you, father. And after that interchange, what is your opinion of her?”
“I admire her,” the marquis said.
“And that’s all?” The earl asked.
“I admire her greatly. Her beauty, her cleverness, her kindness, and her conversation,” Sandshire replied.
“And that’s all?” Carlyle repeated.
“Not at all. I am falling deeply in love with her,” the marquis confessed. “And don’t give me that look. You knew it before you began this conversation. When they first arrived, I hinted that I highly favored one sister. You must be noticing how I watch her. You can’t argue that she’s not an intriguing creature.”
“Oh, I admit she’s pretty...”
“Pretty?” The marquis howled before he caught the playful twinkle in his son’s green eyes.
“All right then, she is gorgeous, but I have noticed more qualities as well. She had true kindness in her and great loyalty towards her sister. There is no competition or jealousy between them. They are truly kind ladies,” Carlyle said. “I think she would make you a fine marchioness, father.”
“I haven’t gotten as far as thinking about marriage,” the marquis huffed. “There’s still Bristol to consider.”
“You could no more see her go to Bristol than to sell your stallion to a farmer down the lane,” Carlyle laughed. “No, you will have her. I see that glint in your eyes when you look at her.”
“I might consider it. Your mother has been gone for many years now and yet I miss her every day. I am not sure I can remarry,” Sandshire said. “She would want me to, she said so on her last day alive. She made me promise that I would try to be happy.”
“Did she?” Carlyle asked softly. “Yes, mother would be thinking about you to the very end. She would want to see you happy again.”
“We shall see how things work out. Now get away from that window before you wear a hole through the pane staring at Audrey Winston,” Sandshire grinned.
“I was just admiring the gardens,” Carlyle said moving slowly away from the doorway.
“You were admiring the profile of Audrey Winston while she sits prettily in the rose arbor. Don’t think you can fool me, boy. I know you too well,” the marquis said.
“Darlington is playing it all wrong. He hasn’t done one thing to earn her attention let alone her heart,” Carlyle muttered.
“And that’s to your advantage?” Sandshire asked quickly.
“Not mine. I’m here to see the young lady marry Darlington, and to help you, father. Nothing more,” Carlyle said.
The men exchanged glances and both turned away as a loud argument instigated in the entry.
“There they go again, Bristol and Darlington at each other’s throats like guttersnipes,” the marquis said moving towards the doorway. “I might have to just shoot them both.”
Perhaps
III
Lord Carlyle was a troubled man. Learning that his father was considering marriage as even a remote possibility worried him. He wanted his father to be happy, content but Sara Winston was just twenty-one. And beautiful. It was often done with rich men, the marrying of younger women. Perhaps he was worrying about nothing. But then the nagging thought of Audrey Winston would appear.
Sweet tempered but clever.
Gorgeous but not vain.
No signs of an inflated ego like many attractive women of the ton.
A skilled rider with a gift for soothing animals.
Not introduced yet to high society, she was an unspoiled creature.
If his father married Sara, then Audrey would be highly sought after by all the available gentlemen in London. She would not need to settle for someone as unruly as Darlington.
No, Carlyle could imagine the stir the Winston sisters would make when presented in Town.
If a gentleman had the advantage of meeting her before anyone else did then he’d be a fool
not to quickly gain her heart. If that gentleman desired marriage.
Earl of Carlyle had no such wish.
No, he would not care to be wed.
It entailed courting and pleasing, changing, and giving up all the things he now enjoyed. He liked his freedom. He enjoyed the company of several ladies.
No. He would not approach Audrey Winston except as the son of her host, be polite and helpful, and that was all.
Yes. He decided. That was all.
Now, to go downstairs and keep his own word that Audrey Winston would not attract him.
**********
Everything went along as planned until the fourth evening of the Winston sister’s visit when Earl of Carlyle found himself alone in a room with Audrey.
“Lord Carlyle, you caught me admiring the little blooms on the Sweet William. How wonderful everything is here at Riverside, how you must love it here,” Audrey said moving from the north window and smiling at the earl.
“I never noticed them,” the earl said glancing out the window and seeing small bright purple blooms. “My mother would trade seeds with other manor houses. She’d visit their grounds and ask for cuttings while also sharing her own. She was always trying new plants in different soil.”
Audrey noticed the tone the earl used when he spoke of his mother and she moved closer to him.
“I miss my mother still though she died long ago. She too was a great gardener. She took Sara and me around all the fields and parklands, stopped at every patch and plot, and had us learn the name of every flower,” Audrey said. “It’s a terrible thing to lose one’s mother and worse still when your father is taken from you.”
Surprising herself with her raw emotion on display, Audrey turned and wiped a tear from her eye.
Carlyle poured two glasses of wine and handed Audrey one, “Here, take this.”
She smiled and as she turned, Audrey caught the charming green eyes of the earl fixed on her lips.
Earl of Carlyle (The Rogue Gentlemen Series Book 2) Page 5
