And then there was the matter of entertaining. Tedric had the means to play the role of host often and well, a fact that brought their status in the parish to great heights. But with status came the obligation to provide guests with the best available music, food, and conversation. Strict rules about seating arrangements, if broken, could ruin a hostess for years. From the first, Abigail had passed each test. Under her tutelage, Sutton Manor had transformed itself from a gloomy place rumored to be haunted by the ghost of Tedric and Cecil’s reclusive father to its true glory as the source of the most coveted invitations.
Even Griselda had to admit that Abigail had triumphed. But Tedric’s approval gave Abigail much greater happiness.
Since the hour when Abigail normally conducted business had long passed, the fire had been allowed to burn out. She shivered and, crossing her arms, rubbed her forearms with her palms. As she lit the beeswax candle, Abigail contemplated summoning a servant to relight the fire but thought better of it. Her business would not take long.
She drew out her best parchment, opened her bottle of ink, and began to write.
❧
Aunt May entered the study that Eunice now claimed. “A messenger boy just delivered this from Sutton Manor.”
Eunice placed her quill back in its inkwell and took the letter from her aunt. “This is Abigail’s handwriting.”
“Of course it is her handwriting. Who else from the Sutton estate would be writing to you? Unless. . .”
“No, Auntie. There is no one else there but the family.” She muttered under her breath. “At least, I hope Cecil isn’t home.”
“What was that?” Aunt May asked.
“Oh, nothing.”
“Well, open the letter.”
Eunice responded to her aunt’s prodding by breaking the sealing wax embedded with the Sutton coat of arms. Knowing Aunt May would never be content with a retelling of the letter’s contents, she read aloud:
Dear Eunice,
I trust you are getting along splendidly in your new home. You told me you were worried you might be lonely out here in a part of the country with which you are not well acquainted and with old friends now turned to strangers. If you are willing to do me a small favor, you will find that you are not lonely for long.
I am worried about Tedric’s brother, Cecil. He does not know the Lord, and you would be the perfect example for him. Will you consent to come to the estate and meet him after sharing tea with me? Perhaps you might be willing to share with him some of the finer points of etiquette. Never fear that I am attempting to trap you into an unwanted match. He only plans to remain here for the duration of the year, until he can improve his general habits and demeanor in order to please the woman he wishes to marry.
I eagerly await your response.
Yours,
Abigail
Eunice let out a groan.
“What is it, dear? Abigail’s suggestion sounds lovely to me. She is your best friend here. Refusing her a favor would be unwise.” Aunt May set her forefinger against her chin, which had long before sunk from evidence into the flesh underneath. “I do wonder. . . .”
“Wonder?”
“Why can Abigail not teach him manners herself?”
Eunice didn’t answer right away. Abigail had once been betrothed to Cecil by her father against her own wishes. In an effort to thwart the marriage, Abigail had tried to elope with a local rake who promised to meet her but instead left her standing alone in a gloomy churchyard in the middle of a rainy night. When Cecil’s younger brother, Tedric, saw the distressed girl collapse, he brought her to Sutton Manor so she could recuperate from pneumonia. Cecil eventually tried to claim the right to marry Abigail, but he stepped aside when he discovered that she and Tedric had fallen in love.
Abigail had always portrayed Cecil as the greatest of gentlemen under the circumstances, but Eunice could well understand why Abigail would feel a bit awkward spending so much time with him.
Aunt May was getting impatient. “Do you think she wants you to help break the engagement Lord Sutton has with Miss Hamilton?”
“I doubt it. But even if she did, I have no intention of sending any amorous glances his way.” She shuddered. “I do not wish to disappoint her, but I am simply not certain I should seek out the company of her brother-in-law.”
“Certainly he cannot be so rude.”
“You do not remember Cecil from the ball?”
“Of course I remember him. He was tall with blue eyes, and he stood by the fire most of the evening. He seemed a jovial sort. The type who would add life to any place he resided.”
The question being, what kind of life?
“We hardly had more than a minute to converse with anyone at the ball,” Auntie continued. “Except for that delightful Lord Milton, that is. He was by far the most charming man there.” She took out her fan and waved it in front of her face, which was flushed with the memory.
Eunice recalled Lord Milton all too well. He remained in conversation with Cecil much of the night—except when he was flirting with the women. And flirt with Aunt May, he did. After the ball, Eunice pieced together the elements of the puzzle and could only conclude that Lord Milton offered a distraction to her aunt so Cecil could sneak her out to the garden. Couldn’t her aunt, in her advanced age and wisdom, see through the wiles of such a sly man?
Perhaps not. After all, Eunice hadn’t told her aunt what transpired in the garden. If she had, Auntie might not let her venture out of doors at all.
“I wonder if Lord Milton will be visiting his friend at Sutton Manor in the near future,” Aunt May thought aloud.
“Far be it for me to know, Auntie.”
“I suppose that to drop a hint of a question would be highly improper.”
“I suppose so.”
“You must think me silly. I know he is far too young for me.” She sighed. “But to be flirted with again! I had forgotten what that was like. Not that I knew too much about it. I was a bit of a wallflower in my youth and not at all as pretty as you, Eunice.”
“You are too kind.”
“Kind, perhaps, but I speak the truth,” Aunt May insisted. “I saw more than one gentleman look your way at the ball. No doubt you will be leaving me all alone soon.”
“Silly goose. Of course not. No matter if I marry, I hope you will be with me always.” Eunice placed Abigail’s letter back in its envelope and set it on the top of her desk. She was in no mood to respond to her friend’s query.
“You will be answering that today?” Aunt May’s question sounded more like an edict.
Eunice shrugged, then looked up at the ceiling and around the room at the walls to remind her aunt that the house still left much to be desired. “There is still so much work to be done. I have little time to spare.”
“Never you mind. I can make most of the arrangements myself. I do have a few connections, you know.” Aunt May winked.
Aunt May didn’t have to explain. When she set her mind to a task, it was sure to be completed with haste.
“And you are right. Abigail and I have been friends so many years. I would be loathe to disappoint her.”
“Then you must respond to her now. Quickly, before the messenger boy becomes impatient and decides to leave.”
Eunice jotted a quick reply to her friend. In her response, she was careful not to make any promises she didn’t intend to keep.
Four
Early the next week, Eunice arrived at Abigail’s armed with her best resource on the finer forms of etiquette, The Mirror of Graces, a recent book whose author identified herself only as “A Lady of Distinction.” Eunice couldn’t help but wonder if the lady was a person of her acquaintance. Unwilling to waste time on speculation, she dismissed the thought. Even though she knew the most pertinent passages of the book by heart, she thought it best to be prepared should Cecil pose an unusual query.
Abigail greeted Eunice with an embrace indicative of their lifelong friendship. “You and I shall have tea in
the parlor with Jane and Emily first, by your leave. You remember them, do you not?”
“Lord Henry’s sisters?” Eunice reached back into her memory and recalled two adolescent girls. Both were thin, but Jane possessed a humor as sharp as her features, while Emily’s demeanor was as soft as her dark curls. She wondered if they had changed much over the years. “Of course. How delightful that they shall be having tea with us.”
Abigail led her to the parlor, as promised. Eunice held back a sigh tinged with envy as she beheld the small but well-appointed room. Such a pleasant place to receive guests and to enjoy tea. At the present, her manor house was so dilapidated that she could only dream of such a lovely parlor of her own.
As Eunice was introduced to the sisters, she noticed they had changed little in appearance. Emily had developed attractive curves and possessed the same soft eyes. Jane looked as prickly as ever. She wondered how they were appraising her.
Eunice sat on a comfortable seat by the fire, where tea had already been set out on a small mahogany table fashioned just for that purpose. Abigail sat across from her, with Jane and Emily on either side.
“So how did you find the estate?” Abigail asked as she began pouring.
Eunice took a biscuit from the small platter Abigail silently offered. “Aunt May was quite disappointed. She was so in hopes that we could host a gathering of our friends right away.” Abigail sent her a smile that bespoke her amusement. “Why, she practically had the beeswax in hand for the servants to polish the floor.”
“Poor thing.” Abigail clicked her tongue against her teeth, making sympathetic noises.
“She sounds as energetic and determined as ever,” Jane observed.
“Perhaps the state of the house is a blessing,” Eunice said. “Aunt May needs something to do with her time. She is already finding great pleasure in redecorating.”
“And procuring new furniture?” Jane ventured.
“Thankfully, we do not face that expense as well. From the looks of the house, my uncle did not care a whit about the wallpaper, but every stick of furniture in the house is polished so it glows.”
“Then I look forward to seeing the place again once you are finished,” Abigail said.
“Yes, I do believe that within a few months we can bring it up to its former glory.”
“No doubt,” Emily agreed. “I know the place can be grand once again under your stewardship.”
Eunice looked up at the carved wainscoting that lined the edges of the ceiling. A carved fan in each corner drew one’s eye to the ceiling, which boasted four more fans that were open, forming the pattern of a diamond. Beige and brown wallpaper with scenes of promenading couples wearing the powdered wigs that had been fashionable in the past century was obviously an addition of Abigail’s.
“You should be proud of your accomplishments here,” Eunice assured her friend. Jane and Emily added murmurs of agreement.
Abigail sighed and looked at the decor as though she were inspecting the home of a stranger. “I am pleased with the outcome of my efforts. I finally feel I can call this place my own.”
“To its credit. Your taste is exquisite.”
“As is yours. I am sure you will be pleased to entertain in your parlor once you have put your touches upon it.” Abigail set down her tea. “I wonder if Cecil has any idea how blessed he is to have you as a tutor in proper manners.”
“A tutor?” Jane gasped. “Whatever do you mean, Abigail?”
Abigail looked stricken, obviously regretful that she had mentioned the lessons. Error made, there was no turning back. “Eunice is to give Cecil lessons in manners.”
“Whatever for?”
Abigail cleared her throat. “Because he is due to wed soon.”
The sisters inhaled simultaneously. “The confirmed bachelor is to wed?” Jane asked. “Oh, that is just too rich!” Her laughter filled the room. “Do you not agree, Emily?”
Emily’s eyes widened, and she twisted her mouth in an unreadable line. “I–I just hope he can find happiness with his bride.”
“After all these years of confirmed bachelorhood, I know he will find great happiness as a husband. Tedric and I are so very delighted at this new development,” Abigail said with too much conviction in her voice.
“And to whom is he betrothed?” Jane asked.
“Lady Olivia Hamilton.”
“The Lady Olivia Hamilton?” Emily asked.
“There is only one Lady Olivia Hamilton,” Jane assured her sister.
Emily nodded. “Then it is a good match on either side, if I may say so.”
“A good bloodline, to be sure, but I had no idea that the lady had her eye on becoming a matron.” Jane sniffed, then took a sip of tea. “Word from my London connections is that she is one who enjoys her freedom.”
Eunice remembered her recent conversation with her cousin and squirmed. She felt obligated to come to Olivia’s defense. “My cousin was confined by the need to care for her ailing parents and invalid sister for many years. Worries and care consumed most of her youthful years. Can she be blamed if she enjoys her liberty at present?”
“Pardon me, since she is your cousin,” Jane said, “but I think she should be ready to sacrifice some liberty to fulfill her duty to God and country by providing heirs for a fine family such as yours.”
Remembering Olivia’s admission that she still wasn’t sure if she planned to marry Cecil, Eunice tried not to appear as shaken by Jane’s words as she felt. Was this the way everyone talked about her cousin? Rather than contemplating their words, she occupied herself with spreading strawberry jam on a biscuit with a small silver knife.
“And,” she heard Abigail note, “Lady Olivia has asked that he become polished before the wedding.”
Jane let out a laugh so hearty as to be nearly unladylike. “Surely you jest, Abigail. Cecil is known everywhere for his generosity of spirit to his friends.”
“Regrettably, cordiality is not to be mistaken for polish,” Abigail said.
“I think it is rather sweet that he is willing to work so hard to please Olivia,” Eunice observed.
Three heads snapped toward Eunice, making her feel self-conscious. She cleared her throat. “I am greatly humbled by Abigail’s confidence that I can bring Lord Sutton to meet Olivia’s expectations.”
“No doubt he can learn much from a woman as refined as yourself, Eunice.” Jane’s eyes narrowed, and her mouth curved into a conspiratorial smirk. She leaned toward the center of the table. Intrigued by her body language, the others leaned closer to hear her lowered voice. “Certainly he learns nothing by cavorting with gamblers.”
A queasy feeling set into Eunice’s stomach. Gamblers? An image of a dark, smoky room filled with wicked, laughing mockers and drunken men calling out wagers popped into her head. Surely Cecil could have no part of that! Or could he? Was one of those fallen women actually the “poor company” Olivia had alluded to earlier? The thought left her shaken.
Father in heaven, please show Cecil Thy way.
“I commend anyone who can reform such a cad,” Emily whispered. The pained expression on her face expressed both her doubts and good wishes.
“Yes, I wish you luck,” Jane agreed in a whisper, and she sent an approving half-smile Eunice’s way. “Although I do wonder if this idea of a maiden giving lessons of any sort to such a rake is a good idea.”
“Unless he is not nearly as detestable as gossip indicates,” Emily guessed.
Abigail didn’t answer right away but placed her teacup in its saucer. “Perhaps I lose patience with him from time to time and pass judgment when I should not. I know that he is simply misguided. Underneath his exterior is a good soul. I am sure of it. Otherwise, I would not ask my dearest friend in the world to be in his company for long,” she pointed out. “Besides, he does not know our Lord and Savior. Eunice would be the perfect example for him.”
“I know the Lord, but I am far from perfect,” Eunice admitted. “I pray your confidence in me is not
misplaced.”
“Indeed not,” Abigail said. “But you met him at Miss Hamilton’s. What is your general impression?”
She searched for a diplomatic observation. “He is quite popular.”
“At great expense,” Abigail noted. “As Jane said, he can always be depended on to buy his friends food and drink. And believe me, his generosity has bought him a great many friends.”
“He seems quite cordial.”
“He can be charming enough at times, when he wants to get his way,” Abigail said.
“And his appearance?” Jane prodded. “Is it pleasing to you?”
Eunice brought a portrait of Cecil, based on memory, to mind. “His appearance is not nearly so repulsive as some reported, I have to say.” She glanced at Abigail.
The other women’s laughter filled the parlor. “What? You do not find him to be portly and unkempt?”
“Not too portly, especially since he is taller than the average man,” Eunice said. “And as for unkempt, you must remember that I have only witnessed him during the course of a formal occasion. I cannot imagine any man would not make some extraordinary effort to appear pleasing at a formal event.”
“True.” Abigail placed two lumps of sugar into a fresh cup of hot tea and stirred. “Tell me something. Did you notice him drinking any port that night?”
She thought for a moment. “Yes,” she admitted. “He spoke a bit loudly thanks to its effects, and I wonder if no small part of his charm might have been fueled by the drink.”
“That question shall be answered in due time, I’m sure,” Abigail remarked. “One of Olivia’s conditions was for him to stop drinking.”
Lady And The Cad Page 5
