He did?
Ellen’s cheeks must have gone red by now, but she turned her attention to her hostess, willing the blush away. That he would say such a thing in company gave her heart a lift she had not known she needed. “I understand you have children, Mrs. Banner. I am accustomed to being surrounded by toddling nieces and nephews and I confess I have missed the darlings. Will you tell me about your little ones?”
“Careful, Calvert.” Mr. Banner’s tone became cautious and his face a mask of seriousness. “This bodes ill for you.”
“Oh, stop.” His wife leaned forward enough to tap him on the wrist, narrowing her eyes at him. “Do not listen to a word he says, Mrs. Calvert. My husband adores our children. He has a level of affection one does not normally see fathers convey.”
“It’s true.” He sighed and his shoulders slumped. “I am at their beck and call. The nursery bell has but to ring and I am there, ready to slay dragons.”
“For our son, Arthur. He is three, but I think he has already decided he wishes to build a round table and go on a quest to find Camelot,” Mrs. Banner confided with motherly pride. “And Peter encourages him.”
“We have a daughter, too. She is but one year and a quarter.” His chest swelled as he spoke of her. “But already walking about as if she owned the world.”
“Every little girl ought to be confident,” Ellen said, lips twitching at his obvious pride. Would Marcus feel that way about fatherhood? They had barely spoken of the idea of children. She knew he wanted an heir, at least, to carry on his name and inherit the estate.
Mrs. Banner’s eyes glowed, gazing into her husband’s similarly soft countenance. “They are the center of our world.”
The footman reappeared and bowed, announcing dinner.
“We will not stand on ceremony,” Mr. Banner said as he held his hand out to his wife. “We have kept the table small so we might all converse at ease, and I intend to take my wife in.” He bent and brushed a kiss on her gloved hand.
Marcus stood and held a hand out to Ellen for her to take as she rose from the couch. They followed the Banners into the hall. Marcus bent down, bringing his lips near her ear, and spoke softly enough that their hosts would not hear. “You miss your family? Ought I to worry?”
Ellen looked out of the corner of her eye at him, tilting her head to one side. “Not yet. You are marvelous company, Marcus.”
“That is something of a relief,” he murmured, his eyes skimming her profile in a way that made her wish to duck her head. Instead, she tilted her chin up and did her best to exude confidence. It was easier to feel it here, among the Banners, than it had been at the party the night before.
¤
After dinner, Marcus and his host remained at the table while the ladies retired to the parlor.
“We won’t linger too long,” Banner promised, leaning back and crossing his arms. “But I think the ladies might appreciate a few moments alone.”
“I agree. In all honesty, your invitation came as a relief. Ellen is not comfortable in the neighborhood yet. I think a few of the matrons have intimidated her.” Marcus knew he could trust Peter Banner to keep his confidences. The two had known each other many years and were of a similar temperament.
“Spiteful old cats.” Banner rolled his eyes heavenward. “You have thwarted all their schemes for you, marrying a gentle person like her, and they will take out their ire on your wife.”
“I am not certain it is as bad as all that.” Marcus took a sip of the amber liquid in his glass. “But there have been very few invitations. Not that we have a great deal of time before we must go to London. But it would be good for Ellen to make friends.”
Banner looked askance at him, his brow furrowed deeply. “I am afraid you’re wrong, Calvert. My wife has heard the gossip and it isn’t kind. Your wife is seen as an interloper. A nobody who has inexplicably risen in society. You know as well as I, if it is one thing people full of pomp and self-importance hate, it is a newcomer to the game.”
Marcus stilled and he slowly shook his head. “She is the daughter of a gentleman. Her education cannot be discounted. Ellen has grace and dignity, perfect manners. How could anyone perceive her as not belonging?”
“My dear fellow.” Banner sat forward, forearms on the table, hands clasped as he spoke with earnestness. “Mrs. Calvert may be all you say, but there is no one who knows it. She has never been seen in illustrious company before. No one in this neighborhood knows her. Until she has proven herself equal in some manner, she will have a hard time of it.”
“I should expect that as my wife she should receive the same courtesies shown to me. She bears my name. My family’s name.” He truly did not foresee this as a problem. Though he knew Ellen would require many introductions into the right circles, how could people not recognize immediately the quality of her person?
“On the surface a woman may be given all the polite treatment her husband’s name brings, but there is always another, deeper layer of the game. Bringing her here, as your bride, and introducing her about to the women who wished to have you for themselves or for their daughters, could not go well.” Banner picked up his glass at last, giving the liquid a brief glance before putting the glass down again. “They are jealous they did not claim you and they are offended that someone outside their circle of importance did.”
Marcus scoffed and pushed his glass away, no longer in the mood to indulge himself. “I have never encountered such problems before.”
“That is not entirely true, Calvert. You have told me many times how your connection to your family has made your life difficult.”
“Because people sought connection to my family. Not to distance themselves from me.” Marcus groaned and pressed a hand over his eyes. “Ellen has not said a word about any of this. Do you think she is aware of the hostility towards her?”
“Undoubtedly. Louisa is certain your wife has been given a few minor tongue-lashings already.” The look Banner gave him was full of sympathy. “As much as she may fit the requirements of a gentlewoman in society, she is new to all of this. As a married woman, she must navigate on her own.”
“No. She has me.” Marcus pushed himself away from the table and stood, walking a path down the dining room, ten steps one way and then ten steps back. “How can I help her?”
“You might begin small.” Banner’s suggestion was accompanied by a bemused look. “Praise her in company the way you praised her here, tonight. That compliment you paid her made Mrs. Calvert bold.”
Marcus slowed in his pacing and thought, frowning at the carpet, of all the times he offered his wife compliments. She usually dismissed his words as flattery or flirting, so he did not often say those things lest she continue to count them cheaply. That did not stop him from admiring her intelligence or her loveliness. But that silent admiration at home meant he said little of her before others.
“Ellen has always kept to herself. She has never been bold. Except with me. In private. She says the most interesting things.”
“Is she shy?”
“Possibly there is more to it than that.” Marcus took in a breath and released it slowly. "I don’t know."
Banner stood and pushed his chair in. “I think we best rejoin the ladies. And I think you ought to have a conversation with your wife on these matters.”
Marcus inwardly agreed.
Chapter Seventeen
Tucked up in her favorite chair by the library fire, Ellen turned the page in an interesting volume on the subject of astronomy. The discoveries being made about the stars and nearby planets were astonishing. Though her grasp of mathematics was above what most considered proper for a woman, she still found a great deal of the book was beyond her reach in understanding. She determined to make a further study of the subject.
Ellen reached for her commonplace book, to write down the names of other authors the book suggested be read, when her husband came into the library. Even now, after weeks of marriage, Ellen’s heart picked up its speed t
he moment he stepped through a door. Tonight, he looked to be deep in thought, a line appearing between his brows. He walked straight into the room and towards his favorite chair, across from hers, and slumped down into it.
“I thought understanding orchards would be a simple matter.” He sighed and reached up to rub his eyes. “Ellen, I cannot thank you enough for Knight’s book. I have been taking a mad number of notes and I’ve sent to London for more written by him. I am thinking of writing the gentleman a letter to see if there is anything else he would suggest I read.” His lips quirked upward at the last and he cast his eyes down to her book. “What is it you study?”
“The stars in the heavens,” she answered cheerily, placing a ribbon in the book to mark her place. “But if you would rather pick up our story about the Irish girl, I will not complain.”
“You never do complain. About anything.” But rather than smile at what she thought would be a praiseworthy trait, his frown reappeared. He placed both hands on the arms of the chair and heaved himself into a more upright position. “Which reminds me of a thing I have wished to discuss with you. Have you the time for a conversation of a serious nature?”
Ellen put the book aside and straightened her spine. “I do. I am always at your disposal, Marcus.”
"Ah. Thank you.” He stared into her eyes and she could see, behind the light brown irises, his gathering thoughts.
“We haven’t received many invitations and you haven’t had many callers.”
“Both statements are correct,” Ellen said, tilting her head to one side. “But it is a difficult time of year, with the weather, to be out visiting or entertaining.”
Marcus shook his head. “I think you and I both know that isn’t the case here.”
Ellen’s chest tightened and she looked away from him, to the fireplace. “You’re right, of course. A new bride in the neighborhood ought to be of more interest than I have been.” She sighed and put her hands in her lap, trying to remain relaxed. “I’m sorry, Marcus, if this reflects badly on you. But I don’t think your neighbors have a wish to know me.”
“Badly on me?” he repeated, sounding shocked. She glanced up to see his eyebrows high on his forehead and his mouth hanging slightly open. “I am not the least worried about myself, Ellen. I am concerned for how my neighbors’ behavior has made you feel. I have reason to believe you are being slighted, and I cannot allow that. You are my wife. Under my protection.”
Despite the uncomfortable nature of the topic, Ellen smiled. “It’s nothing, Marcus. I’m a stranger, and not a very interesting one. People will get used to me in time.”
He repeated her again, much to her amusement. “Used to you?” Marcus continued to gape at her.
“Yes. In time.” Ellen shrugged, doing her best to convey that this didn’t bother her. Not much, anyway. “When we have more in common.”
Marcus moved to the end of his chair, his elbows on his knees as his hands took up hers. “Ellen.” The softness with which he spoke her name nearly made her sigh. But his eyes were boring into hers again, with a gentle intensity. “You have a great deal in common with the ladies here.”
Ellen squeezed his hands and shook her head. “Not really. I don’t move in their circles, so I don’t understand their gossip. I have no idea of the history existing between them, of who likes who and who only tolerates another. And what do I know of the events they speak of? They talk of balls, concerts, and the theater of London. My experiences in Bath are inferior. I am newly married, so I cannot speak much about that life. I have no children, which eliminates another topic of conversation. And I hardly think anyone of your acquaintance would care to hear about my interest in botany, literature, or the sciences.”
“I find those things interesting,” he said. “I see no reason why others would find such topics of conversation lacking.”
“Marcus. I am sorry if it pains you to have an unpopular wife, but…” She shrugged and looked down at her lap, not wanting to see the disappointment on his face. “I have always been quiet and I am used to keeping my own company. I don’t mind. One grows accustomed to such things. Why else would I have never received an offer of marriage?”
Marcus’s hands brought hers together, holding them safely in his warm grasp. She reveled in his touch, even though she knew she ought to withdraw.
“Ellen.” He took in a deep breath and sighed, which made her curious enough to peek up at him, trying to ascertain his level of upset. It surprised her to see not disappointment but concern etched into his face. “I haven’t any idea why Bath is full of imbeciles, but I am wholly grateful no other man was intelligent enough to see what a wonderful wife you would make. If I am pained by what is going on in my neighborhood, it’s because I don’t wish to see you disappointed. And I know you are, even with your denials.”
Ellen’s eyes prickled as tears formed behind them, but she determined to smile. “How would you know that, Marcus?”
He retained her hands in his left, but reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his gaze never faltering. Her breath stilled.
“I can see it in your eyes. I’ve heard it in your voice. As happy as we are in each other’s company, I know you wish for friendship. It’s my fault, not yours, that they are standoffish.”
Ellen did not realize she had been holding her breath until her lungs began to ache. She bit her lip and looked away, her thoughts muddled.
Marcus stood and went to the fire, clasping his hands behind him. “We will make this season a grand one for you, Ellen. We will attend balls, concerts, the theater, and walk the park in the fashionable hours. I will introduce you to everyone I know of importance. By the end of the season, the jealous pea hens will be falling all over themselves to claim you as an acquaintance.” He looked over his shoulder at her, his teasing grin back in place. “And you might even enjoy yourself.”
She managed a smile, though she felt some uncertainty over the plan. “I thought your intentions were to stay in town for a short while. To come back here and see to the estate.”
He shook his head dismissively, turning to face her. “I can return from time to time and receive reports from our steward.” He squared his shoulders and raised his brow in a lofty manner. “I made you a promise, Ellen. I promised I would be a good husband to you. This is one of the ways I am doing that. I will see to your happiness.”
Ellen appreciated the thought, but in her heart, she knew it could not make her happy, to pull him from the work which meant so much to him. For what? The sake of her feelings over the spiteful behavior of a few women? Ellen could get along without them very well. Her letters to Marianne helped and she felt certain Mrs. Banner would be a good friend before long.
“I have been invited to visit Mrs. Banner tomorrow afternoon. Would that suit your plans?”
“Of course, weather permitting. I have had a few farmers tell me they expect a storm any day now. How they know, I cannot understand, but I trust their judgment.” He came back to his seat and fell into it. “I’m glad you and Mrs. Banner like each other.”
She offered a brief nod and then took up the book they had been reading together. “One chapter before we retire?” she asked.
He nodded and closed his eyes, relaxing in his chair. “Yes. Let’s continue with the Irish.”
Ellen found her place and began to read in her best voice, her tones rising and lowering as the emotion of the story called for, and before long Marcus was sitting forward, as engrossed in the story as she.
¤
Sarah made certain Ellen’s cloak was warm, fussing over her wellbeing enough to make Ellen feel coddled. But her husband did not emerge from his study to bid her farewell, nor did she know if she ought to interrupt him to take her leave of the house.
Ellen asked Sarah to be sure to inform the master of the house of where she had gone, in case he forgot about it in his business of the day.
Keeping to herself during the day did not usually prove difficult for Ellen. She had se
veral things to occupy her, such as meeting with the cook and the housekeeper to go over meal preparations and house business, respectively. She would hold discussions with Sarah about her wardrobe, what should be mended and what put away. Then she would walk through the gardens in their winter slumber, enjoying the cool air and exercise.
If only people would call on her, so she might return the courtesy. But, as she told Marcus, she hardly expected anyone to go out into the weather. Despite the mild snowfall, it remained cold.
Visiting today, by specific invitation, lifted her spirits. Though they would be in London in another week, the time between now and then stretched into an eternity.
It did not help matters that Marcus made her aware of his determination to see her accepted and popular in society. If anything, the very idea made her nervous.
“I suppose I ought to be grateful he wishes to help,” she murmured to herself in the carriage, watching out the window for the Banners’ driveway. “But all I can think is that he must be disappointed he did not know then what he does now about my personality.”
They turned off the country lane and she heard the crunch of gravel. When the carriage stopped, the footman helped her down and she made her own way up the steps. The door was thrown open by her hostess.
“Oh, Mrs. Calvert, good afternoon. I hope the drive over was pleasant?”
“Very, thank you.” Ellen handed her things to a maid, with the exception of the small basket she brought with her, filled with embroidery materials in case busyness would be the order of the day.
“Would you come up to the nursery with me, Mrs. Calvert?” The woman of the house asked immediately, without even stepping into the parlor. “I usually take tea with the children before I enjoy my own. If you’ve missed the company of your nieces and nephews, I thought you might not object.”
Ellen’s heart warmed even more toward this kind woman. “Please. I’d like to meet them.”
They went up the flight of stairs in the hall, but rather than climb to the level of an attic, Mrs. Banner took Ellen a few doors down the hallway. “I know it isn’t generally done, but our children live on the same level as we do. It saves their small legs the stairs and I like having them near.” She opened the nursery door and Ellen stepped into a room full of light and laughter.
His Bluestocking Bride: A Regency Romance (Branches of Love Book 3) Page 13
