The Spurned Sister: A Regency Romance Novella

by Gloria Masters

  Once the wedding breakfast was done and Jane and her new husband set off from the front door for their honeymoon, during which they planned a tour of the beautiful lakes of the north and other places in the country, and at the end of which they would make their way to Lord Grant’s country seat, Letitia was left to her thoughts. Her mother’s school was now more successful than it had ever been, with three additional teachers. Mrs. Hayward had been able to hire some additional servants over the past several months as well, making things run more smoothly and giving her more leisure time.

  Although Mrs. Pembroke had pressed Letitia to stay with her in London for a few months longer, she decided to return home to her mother and the school. But what of Mr. Lambert? Mr. Lambert did continue to pay attention to Letitia, but she was by no means the only young lady on whom he seemed to shower praise. It did seem, on several occasions, that he paid significantly more attention to her than others, and he said certain things that could not help but raise the hopes of even a sensible young lady. But perhaps the word “hope” is inaccurate. It cannot be said that Letitia ever really “hoped” that this young man would fall in love with her. In short, she was not in love with him. Her experience with Robert Clarke had made her much warier and more cautious than she would have been otherwise.

  She soon became properly re-acquainted with the students of the school whom she had already met as well as the new ones. Mary Walter, now 14 years old, had grown significantly since Letitia had last seen her, and had become more confident than she had been before. She was now thoroughly used to being away at school. She wrote to her mother and family every night and went home for visits during the holidays. This was the same experience as Anne Fortesque and Margaret Nelson. They were both now 15, and both had become very high-spirited and extremely pretty. All of the pupils worked hard and were doing well with their studies.

  Mary was particularly proficient at the piano. She had already known how to play when she arrived, but further instruction from Mrs. Hayward and a master had made her much better. Letitia was amazed to hear her performance one evening.

  “Mary, you are so very proficient at the piano,” Letitia said, surprised at how much the young girl had progressed.

  “Oh, thank you, Miss Hayward,” Mary replied, looking gratified and pleased with the praise.

  “You must be very mindful with your practicing. More mindful than I ever was, I am afraid!” Letitia continued.

  “Oh, I am sure not,” Mary said modestly.

  “On the contrary, I am sure you do. I did not practice as much as I should have. I did spend a great deal of time drawing, though. Do you like to draw, Mary?”

  “I do enjoy it, but I do not think I’m particularly good at it,” the young girl replied.

  “Well, keep practicing with that, too,” Letitia said. “Is the rest of your family musical, Mary?”

  “Yes, my mother and brother are both quite musical,” Mary replied.

  “Oh, yes? Your brother is musical? That is wonderful! One so rarely hears of young men closely applying themselves to music these days. It seems to have become more of a lady’s province.”

  “Yes, that is true. But Henry, my brother, loves music so very much. He always has.”

  “Henry? Oh yes, I think I might have met him once or twice many, many years ago. How is he?”

  “He is very well, I believe. He said so in his last letter, at least. He loves to write poetry, too.”

  “Poetry too! Why, he sounds like a fascinating young man.”

  “Yes, I think he is. He is my brother and I love him so very much, though. He is always so kind. And he is so clever in every area, not only music and poetry but the classics and Latin and all those subjects that young men must know. He finished at Cambridge last year,” Mary explained.

  “He must be a very intelligent young gentleman,” Letitia responded, intrigued.

  15

  As one might easily expect, Letitia missed her sister a great deal. Jane wrote to her almost every day, and her letters were long and effusive, but it did not feel the same as having her sister there with her. She tried to occupy herself more in learning about the pupils and become more dedicated to the idea of being a teacher permanently. It did seem to be her fate, after all, and she could not say that she did not enjoy it. In fact, she came to like the occupation more and more every day.

  She also spent a great deal of time in the gardens, which her mother had arranged to be expanded over the last several months. They were now even larger with a greater number of pleasant private walks. Letitia loved to wander around these early in the mornings, before lessons began. She sometimes thought about the day that Jane came to find her there, to tell her about the inheritance from Aunt Maria. It seemed like so much that changed since then. And indeed it had. Jane was married and gone. She was not very far away, it was true, especially for a man of means like the son of Lord Grant, and her mother would have always found ways to bring her home as often as possible anyway. But Letitia had always had her sister there. In many ways, there was an entirely new life to adjust to.

  After one of these walks, she made her way back into the house to be greeted by the sound of her mother’s voice. She entered the drawing room and found her mother speaking to Mary Walter.

  “Oh, Letitia. Come and sit with us,” Mrs. Hayward said.

  Letitia smiled and sat down, quietly saying hello to her mother and the young pupil.

  “My dear, you are aware I have long been talking of trying to find a master to give our pupils some extra instruction in poetry, music, and literature. Well, what do you think? Mary here has told me that her brother just finished at Cambridge and he is eminently qualified to be a tutor. He would not be here all the time or live here, but as he is now staying rather close by, it would be easy for him to come when needed. How does that sound, Letitia? I think it is a wonderful idea!”

  “Oh, yes. That sounds like a fine idea, Mama. Mary has told me about her brother. He sounds very well-suited,” Letitia responded. It must be admitted that Letitia was anything but averse to the idea of meeting Henry Walter. The idea of him and what he might be like had entered her mind on several occasions after Mary had described him to her. She would certainly be very pleased to meet him.

  About a fortnight after this, the day finally arrived on which Henry Walter would arrive for his first lessons. Letitia scolded herself for being so excited and set down her nerves to having so little diversion of late. Something or someone new seemed so very interesting now. But she had to acknowledge that her feelings went beyond this. She barely remembered Henry Walter as she had only met him once or twice many years before when she was very young, but the thought of what sort of young man he must have matured into intrigued her. This, combined with Mary’s description, made her feel very eager to see him. She checked herself to cease these thoughts lest she find herself blushing in the drawing room later on!

  The young man eventually arrived, and Letitia was summoned to the largest drawing room to meet him. When she walked in, he stood up and their eyes met. She certainly did not feel disappointed. He was a pleasantly tall and very handsome young gentleman with brown hair and bright green eyes, like his sister. He had a remarkably charming yet mild and even somewhat shy countenance, a combination that Letitia had never come across before. She could barely believe her eyes when she detected a slight blush pass over his face.

  Her mother introduced them.

  “It is so pleasant to meet you, Miss Hayward,” he said. “Or I should more accurately say, to meet you again. I know that we met once or twice when we were both children.”

  “Yes, indeed, we did!” Letitia said as she sat down, trying to keep strong control of her countenance. She did not want to look foolish, especially in front of such a clever and amiable young man.

  A few moments of silence passed before Mrs. Hayward began to speak. “Mr. Henry Walter will be invaluable to us, my dear.”

  “Oh, yes, I am sure!” Letitia replied.
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  “He has been telling me about his studies at Cambridge. He finished with great distinction, and he is so very proficient at so many things, from music to Latin. Please forgive me, Mr. Walter. I do not wish to embarrass you,” the lady said, noticing that the young man was again slightly blushing.

  “No need to apologize, Mrs. Hayward,” Henry said. “I can only be grateful when people praise me, although I do think you might do so a little too much,” he continued modestly.

  “I certainly do not, I assure you, Mr. Walter. Your sister and mother have told me everything that I need to know. And now that I have met and spoken to you, I can see that they did not exaggerate.”

  16

  Several weeks passed during which Henry came to tutor the pupils twice a week. He was staying nearby, with old friends, and so he rode over on his horse.

  Letitia often peered from her chamber window, watching him approach the house. She wondered, “What will he be like today? Will he speak to me?”

  It was not that he ignored her. He was always very polite and kind, but she never noticed him looking at her again the way he had when they had first met in the drawing room. His manner seemed increasingly shy around her. She was a very modest young lady, and so it did not occur to her that perhaps his shyness could be due to his liking her very much indeed. She always greatly underestimated her own beauty and powers of attraction, especially since her past disappointments.

  The failure of the young gentleman to show proper interest in the young lady did not cause her to lose interest in him, however. In fact, it seemed to make him even more fascinating. She scolded herself for such weakness. After all, every young lady knew that she should not allow herself to treasure feelings for a young man until he had already made his love and honorable intentions clear. But she found that she could not help it.

  Henry Walter seemed too good to be true in several respects. A young man who so perfectly combined the qualities of goodness and charm was a rare thing indeed, in her experience. And he was so clever, so knowledgeable in all the academic subjects and proficient at music. And on top of all that, he had a poetic soul. This latter quality was something that Letitia had never seen in Robert Clarke or Matthew Lambert.

  One evening, Letitia was amusing herself and her mother by playing on the pianoforte. She was quite proficient, much more so than she imagined herself.

  “Letitia, my child, do sing a little, too. It is not the same without singing,” Mrs. Hayward entreated.

  “Sing, Mama? I do not think I dare. Someone else might come in and witness my dreadfully weak voice.”

  “You do not have a weak voice. It is very pretty, very pleasant indeed. And it would improve even more if you practiced it more often. Do sing a song for me, dear,” her mother responded.

  “Very well!” Letitia said, smiling in resignation.

  A few moments after she started her song, Henry Walter, who was reading in a room nearby, happened to hear what he felt was the most beautiful sound. He did not realize it, but it was the sound of Letitia singing. He left his chair and made his way to the drawing room from which the music was emanating. He found the door slightly ajar and only slightly opened it. Mrs. Hayward saw this out of the corner of her eye.

  “Who is there?” she asked. After turning around in her chair and looking more closely, she saw that it was Mr. Walter, who had shown himself.

  “Oh! Mr. Walter, do come in? We should have invited you in to listen to Letitia’s performance.”

  Letitia had stopped playing at this point and felt rather embarrassed and confused.

  “I did not mean to impose, Mrs. Hayward. I only heard beautiful playing and singing and wondered about its origins,” Henry explained, feeling quite bashful himself.

  “Ah! Perhaps Letitia will believe me now when I praise her singing and playing,” Mrs. Hayward exclaimed. “Why have you stopped, my child! You see you have an appreciative audience,” she said in a kind voice, smiling at her daughter.

  Mrs. Hayward begged Henry to sit down and join her in appreciating her daughter’s musical performance. Letitia struggled to command her nerves, faltering on several notes on her instrument. Perceiving her distress, Henry spoke.

  “Mrs. Hayward, please forgive me. I have only remembered the time. I am afraid I have some obligations that I cannot avoid tending to at this moment. Please excuse me,” he said. He left his chair, bowed politely, and departed from the room.

  While this relieved Letitia’s nervousness, she found herself feeling a sharp sense of disappointment, more so than she could have expected. How very frustrating, she thought. Her feelings seemed unaccountable. She seemed to yearn for this young man’s presence, but whenever he was near, she felt nervous and unaccountable and was not even able to play a simple piece on the piano. But then perhaps this was not unaccountable but rather the reverse. She now knew that she had a distinct preference for Henry Walter. Sadly though, she thought, he did not show any sign of admiring her.

  17

  The next morning, Letitia was still feeling frustrated with herself and disappointed with Henry’s apparent lack of interest in her. Happily, she received a letter from her sister. Letitia always preferred reading her letters alone, so that she could derive the greatest possible enjoyment. This was especially the case when it came to letters from her much-beloved sister. She discreetly hastened to her chamber, stealing time between lessons to savor her letter beside the bright white light that streamed through the window, creating a dazzling and almost dreamlike look to the rest of the room.

  Jane was announcing that she was coming for a visit a few days hence. Her husband, Mr. Grant, was traveling to London for some estate business and would be gone for at least a week. Jane had decided it would be much more agreeable to spend some time with her deeply missed sister and mother instead of wiling away the time with Lord and Lady Grant, who were both very quiet and tended to spend large amounts of time reading in remote areas of the family’s ancestral mansion.

  Jane’s eventual arrival was met with a great deal of excitement from both her mother and sister, as can easily be imagined, and their expressions of pleasure were certainly heartily reciprocated. The sisters embraced and laughed with joy, while their mother watched with satisfaction. Now the wife of the heir to an earldom, the young lady was exquisitely well-dressed. Of course, she and her sister had always maintained a tidy and reasonably fashionable appearance, but now her appearance immediately signaled the fact that she moved in the most exclusive circles wherever she went.

  “My dear Jane, I am so very happy to see you!” Mrs. Hayward said. “You look so very beautiful! And much more important than that, you appear so very happy! Are you, my dear?”

  “Oh, yes! I certainly am, Mama! William is everything I hoped for. He is so very kind and attentive to me, and, as you can see, he is always showering me with presents! His parents are quite pleasant too, pleasanter than I worried that I might find. They are very reversed, mind you. As I said, though, they are quite kind to me.”

  “I am so pleased, my dear,” Mrs. Hayward replied, her eyes filling with joyful tears. “So very, very pleased.”

  “William sends his love, of course. He said he hopes that you are both happy and well,” Jane said.

  “Yes, we are certainly well. And happy, I think. Are we not, Letitia?” Mrs. Hayward asked.

  “Yes, certainly Mama,” Letitia said.

  After Jane had said hello to the pupils, she and Letitia climbed the expansive main staircase with smooth cherry-wood banisters to Letitia’s room. Jane admired the decorative changes that Letitia had made in her chamber, and they sat down on the bed to chat.

  “You look so very pretty, Jane. What lovely clothes William has bought you! The textures and colors suit you so well,” Letitia said, in clear admiration.

  “Thank you. But that’s enough about me. How are you, dear sister? Are you happy?”

  “I am happy enough. I enjoy my work with the pupils, and it is so pleasant here. Mother h
as expanded the gardens, as you saw. I love my walks in them every morning,” Letitia responded, maintaining a cheerful smile.

  Jane looked closely at her sister’s face. “But something seems wrong, Letitia. You do not seem quite yourself. Are you still thinking of Mr. Matthew Lambert? If you did ever really think of him, I mean. I know he thought of you.”

  “I believe he did think of me. The only problem was that I was by no means the only young lady that he honored in this way,” Letitia said, jokingly. “He is an inveterate flirt.”

  “Yes, I suppose he is. Anyway, he could not help but admire you. Who could?” Jane responded. “But what is it, Letitia. What distresses you?”

  “I have told you, Jane. It is nothing. Let us talk of something else.”

  “Very well,” Jane said, smiling but still appearing worried. “I believe that Mother has lately engaged a young gentleman as tutor to the pupils. What is he like?”

  Letitia felt the color rise to her cheeks, and the more she tried to suppress her emotions, the more evident they became.

  “Ah! Have I uncovered something, my dear, sly sister! You blush! Why would you blush when the new tutor’s name is mentioned?” Jane said, gently grasping her sister’s arm and peering into her face.

  “Do not tease me, Jane! Indeed, do not. I only blushed because I felt that you expected me to. You know how odd I can be in that way,” Letitia said, feeling embarrassed.