The Earl, the Vow, and the Plain Jane

by Cheryl Bolen

  She laughed. "Perhaps I was. Papa cares not for Whigs--except for Uncle Featherstone, with whom he wildly disagrees."

  "But one can never dislike Mr. Featherstone. He's much too admirable."

  "He's the kindest of men."

  "That, my lady, is why he is a Whig. He cares for people. He's opposed to slavery. He advocates better wages for workers. He opposes working children. All these things anger rich men who profit from other people's oppression."

  Her eyes widened. "If you're speaking of my father, I'll have you know he has never owned slaves!"

  "Forgive me if you thought I was referring to your father. I was not."

  "But you're a nobleman. How can you turn your back on your own people?"

  He did not answer for a moment. "Perhaps if you would read the works of Jeremy Bentham you would get a sense that we must put aside our own needs and desires to work for the greater good."

  "Do you have such a book you could lend me?"

  It was a start. "I would be happy to."

  They went to Buckingham House and came back to Piccadilly. Twice they walked the perimeter of the park, then he escorted her back to Clegg House. "My cousin said walking with you would improve my ability to converse more intelligently. I do believe she was right. I thank you, my lord, for coming to me today."

  As he walked back to his lodgings, he felt grateful to Miss Featherstone for initiating today's walk. It had been a huge step toward bringing him and Lady Sarah together. If she would only take the effort to learn about political philosophy, he was sure he could fall in love with her.

  Chapter 14

  During the following week Slade saw neither Lady Sarah nor Miss Featherstone. He was, therefore, looking forward to seeing Miss Featherstone at the Wycliffs' dinner this evening--not because he necessarily wanted to see her but because he was anxious to learn if Lady Sarah had read the Jeremy Bentham book he'd sent her several days earlier.

  To his delight, Alex attended the dinner and sat at Wycliff's right. Just after the soup was finished, Wycliff got everyone's attention. "It is my pleasure to announce that Lord Alex Haversham will be able to proceed with his campaign to defeat Hugh Darrington-Chuff. Another Whig candidate who's standing for Plymouth has provided the rest of the monies needed for Lord Alex's candidacy."

  "Who is the generous man?" Lord Babbington asked.

  "A Mr. Cecil Poppinbotham," Alex responded. The smile on Alex's face and the enthusiasm in his voice gladdened Slade.

  Lord Smythington lowered his bushy brown. "Poppinbottom? Never heard of the fellow."

  "It's Poppinbotham," Mr. Featherstone said. "He's a prosperous publisher of religious pamphlets."

  "Jolly good," Lord Aylesbury said.

  Slade was happy to see that Lady Framptingham had become the third lady in attendance--in addition to Lady Wycliff and Miss Featherstone--at this dinner. He had not only come to admire her but also to consider her a powerful Whig advocate.

  "'Tis very glad I am that Lord Alex can continue his campaign," that lady said. "I can almost smell his victory. The last gathering in the shire's to be next week. With flowing taps and pressing the flesh from our Whig candidate, who happens to be the son of a duke, I'm certain Lord Alex will win."

  Her husband beamed at his wife. "I daresay he'll soundly beat that odious Darrington-Chuff."

  "I hope you're right," Lord Alex said.

  If Alex's enthusiasm carried over to his position in the House of Commons, Slade knew he'd be an extremely capable Parliamentarian. But, as Slade had cautioned Poppinbotham, they must not take victory for granted.

  He had no opportunity to speak to Miss Featherstone during the dinner, as she was seated at the center of the table, and he was at Lady Wycliff's left. Toward the end of the evening's festivities, he made it a point to approach her as she and her father were gathering their cloaks. He was disappointed that things would never again be the same between them since she had defied him. "Pray, Miss Featherstone," he said, touching her shoulder, "I beg a quick word with you. In private."

  She glanced at him, then at her father, who nodded. She and Slade ducked into the library, where the chamber was illuminated from the fire blazing in the hearth. They stood some little distance inside the door, and she looked up at him. The expression on her face was completely different from that during any of their previous tête-â-têtes. Was it fear? His gut clenched. Had his berating of her destroyed the camaraderie they had always known? In spite of his former anger with her, he felt like a pariah.

  "I wished to ask you if you know if Lady Sarah has read the Jeremy Bentham I sent."

  She hesitated a moment before responding. "I saw it in her bedchamber and questioned her about it just this afternoon. Though my cousin expressed great interest in reading it, she has yet to pick it up." Miss Featherstone drew a breath. "I should warn you that my cousin is not enamored of reading. I once urged her to read Thomas Paine, but I regret to say she has yet to do so. She means well, but her mind does not run to the things that mine or yours do."

  "So you're telling me I would do best not to try to change her?"

  "I am. You must accept her as the lovely being she is."

  He nodded.

  "I can tell you she plans on going to Almack's on Wednesday."

  "Will Poppinbotham be taking you and her?" he asked.

  "Yes, actually. Were you not so ill disposed toward Mr. Poppinbotham, it would be to your advantage to accompany us."

  "I have made up my mind to suppress my ill feelings toward Mr. Poppinbotham. After all, he's been exceedingly generous to my dear friend." He paused a moment. It was difficult for him to say what he was going to say, but he must be magnanimous. "And, my dear Miss Featherstone, I would be sadly remiss if I did not thank you for your efforts on my behalf with Lady Sarah. The walk in the park was a brilliant plan, and I believe it strengthened my connection with your cousin. I know it did on my part."

  "You're very welcome. It was the least I could do since I'd ignited such anger in you."

  He knew he should apologize, but her defection was still too raw. He merely nodded and guided her from the chamber.

  With the departure of the Featherstones, he was at liberty to speak with Alex about next week's electioneering near Blythstone. "I will miss the vote on the Civil List, but I do plan on accompanying you on your next electioneering visit. I promised I'd always come, and perhaps I can lend my voice if the need should arise."

  "It's not necessary, Sinjin. You're needed for the Civil List vote." Alex clapped a hand around Slade's shoulder. "I must stand on my own two feet. I don't want the voters to think you're my nursemaid."

  Instead of being offended that he wasn't needed, Slade was exceedingly proud of his friend. He stood back and gazed at Alex, admiration shining in his eyes. "I knew you would be a great Parliamentarian."

  * * *

  On Wednesday Slade subjected himself to both Poppinbotham and Almack's. The things one must do for one's family. He danced precisely four dances, two with Lady Sarah and two with Miss Featherstone. Fortunately, when he wasn't dancing he was not subjected to having to converse with Poppinbotham. That man actually made a cake of himself dancing with every lady who would do him the honor. He even claimed to enjoy dancing. Slade believed he enjoyed most hanging onto the coattails of the nobility.

  Midway through the evening, Alex strolled into Almack's large assembly room. The matchmaking mamas in the chamber all took note of the handsome duke's son, the son next in line to a vast dukedom.

  It was difficult for Slade to evaluate another man's handsomeness, but he believed women found Alex highly desirable. Not that Alex had any interest in settling down. He enjoyed his life--and his many dalliances--just the way it was.

  The two old friends stood along the room's perimeter and talked. "Who is that lovely blonde in ivory?" he asked, his eye darting to Lady Sarah.

  "That is the lady I escorted here tonight."

  Alex gave him a quizzing look. "I've never known
you to be enamored of beauties. Not bright enough for you."

  "This one is also an heiress, and I'm in desperate need."

  "Then I shall not ask her loveliness to dance."

  "Thank you." Slade didn't think he stood a chance if Alex was in the running for the lovely lady's hand. Alex could charm women in ways of which Slade was completely ignorant. What he'd said about Slade was true. Slade had never been in the petticoat line. And he probably didn't stand a ghost of a chance with the beautiful heiress.

  But he was hell bent on trying.

  They stood and watched Lady Sarah for a moment. She had danced every set that night.

  "Why are you here?" Slade asked. "I didn't think debutantes appealed to you."

  "They don't, but my sister's supposed to be here, and I promised I'd ensure she was not a wallflower."

  "Lady Margaret?"

  "Yes."

  Slade smiled. "She will never be a wallflower."

  Alex shrugged. "But she failed to get an offer last season."

  "It's intimidating to think of asking for the hand of a duke's daughter. One must be at least the rank of an earl, and there aren't that many bachelor earls around."

  "There is no such rule. She's free to marry any man she chooses."

  "But the men feel as if they're not good enough for her."

  "We did experience something similar with Kathryn. Remember, it took her three seasons before she had an offer."

  "And it's a good thing she waited. Roxbury's a fine fellow."

  "Yes, they don't come any finer."

  "Are you going to dance?"

  Alex eyed Miss Featherstone, who was dancing with Poppinbotham. "I see Miss Featherstone is dancing with my benefactor. I believe I shall ask her to be my partner the next set."

  The only part of the evening Slade enjoyed was when Alex was there to amuse him, but once his sister and her group arrived, he transferred his attentions to them. Slade felt badly his own sisters had yet to be presented. Hopefully, the eldest could come out next year. Even if he didn't succeed in securing the hand of Lady Sarah, he should be able to squeeze out enough money to launch Mary Ann.

  * * *

  Alex's sister Margaret was, indeed, exceedingly courteous to consent to stand up with the most hideously dressed man at Almack's: her brother's benefactor. Someone must instruct the man how to dress.

  Dancing with the daughter of a duke gave Poppinbotham a great deal of satisfaction. He talked of nothing else when they got into the carriage later that evening.

  When Slade could stand it no longer, he addressed Miss Featherstone on a different topic. "Tell me, Miss Featherstone, when will I be able to persuade you to sketch Dunvale Castle?"

  "I would be happy to do it tomorrow, your lordship, were I able to observe it, but it's a bit difficult, given that Dunvale is in Kent, and we're in London."

  "Ah, but my good Miss Featherstone, Dunvale is scarcely over an hour's drive from London--once one gets past the city's crush. I shall have to contrive to take you there."

  "I should love it above all things," she said. "It would be lovely for Lady Sarah and me to breathe country air for a few days, would it not, Sarah?"

  "Oh, indeed it would."

  "And I should be honored to offer my coach and four," Mr. Poppinbotham said proudly.

  In all the kingdom, Slade could think of no other man who could be a more annoying companion than Mr. Poppinbotham, but he must be beholden to the man for the use of his carriage. "That would, indeed, be very kind of you." He turned to Lady Sarah. "My sisters will be thrilled beyond comprehension to meet you and your cousin."

  "And I should be delighted to meet them, my lord," Lady Sarah said. "If they are half as agreeable as you and your brother, I know we will get on famously."

  "Shall we set a date?" he asked.

  "I could wrap up my pressing business in two days," Mr. Poppinbotham said. "How about Saturday?"

  "Saturday it will be then."

  Chapter 15

  The next two days could be the most important in his life. He would have Lady Sarah to himself with no intrusion from her adoring masses. He hoped that the deep bond he so strived for would have the opportunity to form between them. Surely he would be able to fall in love with a lady of such beauty–and wealth. Hopefully, when she saw him in his role as lord of the castle, she could fall in love with him, too. His softer side would certainly be on display in his interaction with his sisters. Perhaps that would appeal to the lady.

  If he could just see to it that her exploration of the castle did not extend beyond the lone occupied wing that was furnished with the finest pieces from the Slade holdings. A person could break a leg–or worse–if he or she ventured beyond that one stable wing.

  As he and Poppinbotham rode in that gentleman's carriage to collect the cousins on Saturday, Lord Slade felt oppressed. There was no turning back from this path, this quest for the heiress's hand. Adding to his oppression was the fact he must keep company with the Buffoon. The man set his nerves on edge.

  "Well, my lord, this could be a momentous journey for Cecil Poppinbotham."

  Lord Slade's gaze whisked over his traveling companion. The man had outdone himself this day with his attire. It was as if he were trying to see how many different colours he could attempt to coordinate. There was the brown of his, admittedly fine, leather boots. His breeches were of buff. Then the colour began to pop. Cutaway coat of lime green with exceedingly large mother-of-pearl buttons paired with an orange shirt and turquoise waistcoat. The chief offender was the man's cravat. It. Was. Black! There was the advantage that spilled food would not be that noticeable on it, but if he thought to start a new trend in men's clothing, the poor fellow was in for grave disappointment. "Why do you say that, Poppinbotham?"

  "I have decided to honor Miss Jane Featherstone by asking her to become my wife."

  Had the man just confessed to murdering the Princess of Wales, Slade's reaction could not have held more contempt. The arrogant creature thought a marriage proposal from the likes of him was an honor! The very notion made Slade sick. It was all he could do not to send a fist crashing into the pompous man's face.

  But that wouldn't do.

  Slade sat there, staring at the Buffoon as if he were an alien creature, and all the while he was attempting to gather his thoughts, to compose a response that would in some way display the good breeding his mother had attempted to instill in him. Though he fairly well shook with anger, he managed to still the quiver in his voice long enough to say, "Is this not rather sudden?" Which was much less offensive than the first ten responses which raced into Slade's head and ranged from, "You bloody, bloody, idiot" to "How dare you think you're fit to marry a lady with Miss Featherstone's many attributes!"

  "I've never been one to beat about the bush, no sir, or should I say, no, your lordship? Never let it be said that Cecil Poppinbotham let grass grow under his feet. I know what I want, and I'm not afraid to go after it. I didn't get where I am today," his self-satisfied gaze swept over the plush interior of his elegant carriage and settled on his bright green coat, "by waiting for opportunities to drop in me lap."

  "I would hardly call Miss Featherstone an opportunity."

  When the carriage pulled up in front of Featherstone House, the conversation came to an end.

  But Lord Slade's accelerating heart rate did not.

  ***

  When he had ridden to Almack's with Lady Sarah seated beside him, Lord Slade had found the accommodation agreeable. But for the two-hour ride to Dunvale, he could not like having to stare across the carriage at the Buffoon seated so close to–and so possessively attentive of–Miss Featherstone. It was enough to steal Lord Slade's appetite.

  As they advanced through London's busy streets, he tried to tell himself Mr. Poppinbotham's choice in a wife was nothing to him. But the more he thought on it–and, admittedly, he seemed incapable of thinking of anything else–the more repulsed he became by the notion of Miss Featherstone uniting with Ce
cil Poppinbotham.

  Then it suddenly occurred to him that Miss Featherstone would never stoop to accept the pompous printer. True, the man's wealth could be attractive to some women, especially to one who came from a family that didn't have a feather to fly with. But since Miss Featherstone was possessed of extraordinary intelligence, she could never be expected to suffer a fool.

  Marriage, as he was himself being forcefully reminded during this journey, was a lifetime commitment. Miss Featherstone was much too wise to sentence herself for life to a man in want of good judgment.

  Having rationalized himself into a good humor, he faced the lovely blonde seated beside him. "I am bereft of words to tell you how excited my sisters are that you and your cousin are coming."

  "I must own," that lady said, "I am looking forward to meeting them. Pray, you must tell me their names and ages."

  "Mary Ann is the eldest. I believe she's the same age as you."

  "And she hasn't been presented?"

  "It seemed wiser, in the light of other considerations, to wait until next year."

  "And your other sisters?" Lady Sarah asked.

  "Remarkably, the three of them are spaced exactly a year and a half apart. The middle sister, Diana, is sixteen, and Lizzie, the youngest, is fourteen and a half and wishes she were seventeen."

  Lady Sarah's face brightened. "Tell me, my lord, will Captain St. John be at Dunvale?"

  "Indeed he will. He rode over yesterday and plans to stay there the duration of our visit."

  "He is so very pleasant to be around," Lady Sarah said.

  "Just don't get him started talking about India, or you'll never hear of anything else."

  "But I find India vastly interesting."

  "Yes," Miss Featherstone added, "there's something so exotic about that land."

  "But who'd want to live among all those dark-skinned creatures?" Mr. Poppinbotham asked.

  The earl glared across the carriage. "My brother has made many friends who have dark skin. I pray you don't speak like that in his presence."