“He was here a few minutes ago, but he left in high dudgeon.”
“Oh.” Inexplicably, Charles’ face lightened. “He did, did he?”
“I took exception when he told me I stood in need of moral guidance,” she said crisply.
He burst out laughing. “So you rang a peal over him, did you? Wonderful!”
“Is it?” she said, smiling too. It was odd how his moods affected her. If he was cross, she was likewise cross, but if he was in good humour, so was she. “Oh, do sit down, Mr Leatham, and cheer me up, for I am still cross.”
“My book has arrived from Narfield Lodge,” he said at once. “Lord Narfield found it in his library, and a groom rode over this morning to bring it to me. Was that not kind? Oh, and Mildred’s last remaining relative has died — her great-aunt in Harrogate. Mildred is now worth fifteen thousand pounds, can you believe it? She is quite upset about it.”
“Upset about inheriting fifteen thousand pounds?” Caroline said.
He chuckled. “No, no, the death. I will say this for Mildred, she is not in the least mercenary. She seems to have been quite fond of the old lady, for all she had not seen her for years. She wrote to her every week without fail, and never got so much as a word in reply. She had no idea her great-aunt was worth so much.”
“That is a very large dowry,” Caroline said. “She will be snapped up now, I’m sure. Are you tempted, Mr Leatham?”
He smiled. “There is no dowry large enough to tempt me to marry Mildred Beacher. I mean no disparagement by that, for she is a very good person, and will make someone an admirable wife, but she would never suit me. She is altogether too moralistic for my taste.”
“She should marry Mr Will Leatham,” Caroline said lightly. “Heavens, is that a carriage arriving? So many callers and it is a Tuesday and not even a day when we might be supposed to be at home.”
It was not a carriage, it was two identical curricles, one pulled by a pair of black horses, and one by a pair of white. But when Susie showed the Alsager twins into the parlour, they were not the bouncing, lively young men of Caroline’s previous experience. These were two gentlemen so dejected and out of spirits that they could hardly speak.
“Oh, whatever is the matter?” she cried out. “What has happened? Your mama or papa? Not your grandmama?”
“Oh no! Nothing of the sort! Everyone—”
“—is perfectly well. We bring you—”
“—an invitation. To a party.”
“A celebration.”
Their faces were so long and their tones so gloomy that she was almost tempted to laugh. “A celebration? But that’s good news, surely? What is to be celebrated?”
“Our betrothals,” they said in unison.
“The Miss Harlings are to arrive for a visit on Monday.”
“On Tuesday we are to propose to them.”
“On Wednesday there is to be a betrothal party and—”
“—in March, after Easter, we are to marry.”
“But… you’re not pleased?” Caroline said. “I thought it had been agreed long since.”
“It has.” They nodded their heads. “But marriage… it is the end of everything.”
Susie came in just then with tea and cakes, but although Mr Leatham tucked in with gusto, the two brothers wouldn’t eat or drink a thing. Caroline had never seen them so miserable.
“Perhaps… I mean to say, if you truly dislike the Miss Harlings, then—”
“Oh, no! We like them very much.”
“They are charming, and we have been great friends with them for years.”
“For years and years. Ever since we were children.”
“They understand that we must always be together, and—”
“—they feel exactly the same way, so we will share a house—”
“—and raise our children together, but—”
“—but… married! For ever. With no escape.”
Mr Leatham set down his plate and delicately removed a crumb of pound cake from his breeches. “Is matrimony such a dire prospect? Since you will all live under the same roof, I cannot see that you will lose by it. The two of you will still go on as you always have, but you will now also have female companionship whenever you wish for it. You will always have a four for whist, and someone to smile at you over the breakfast table, or to drive out with you in your curricles, or to ride with. When you attend a ball, you need not dance with every hopeful chit just out of the schoolroom. If you want music in the evenings, the ladies will play duets for you, and if you want to read aloud, you will have a ready audience. I cannot see any disadvantages to marriage with an agreeable and sensible woman.”
The twins stared at him, then looked at each other. “That is very true. How very perspicacious you are, Leatham.”
They departed in much better spirits than they had arrived. When Caroline returned from seeing them out, she was amused to see Mr Leatham cutting himself another slice of cake. She took a slice herself, and only when she had eaten every crumb did she say, “You seem to have a higher opinion of matrimony these days.”
He looked across at her with a smile. If only he would always smile! He was a handsome man when he was in charity with the world. “It is true, I have come to see the benefits of the wedded state. I am not at all as reluctant as I once was.”
“So have you chosen a lady?”
“I have.”
Why did that make her insides twist? “And have you spoken?”
“I have, but she refused me.”
“Oh.” Interesting, but who could it be? “I am very sorry for the disappointment that must cause you, for she must be rather special to make you positively want to marry her.”
“She is very special indeed,” he said softly. “Indeed, the prize is so well worth the winning that I shall not give up my campaign, and shall hope to change her mind before long. And now, Miss Milburn, I have trespassed upon your hospitality for far too long. I shall bid you good day, and hope I will not be unwelcome to call again before breakfast tomorrow, now that I have my book returned to me? We have a few chapters left to discuss, I believe.”
Very special? How foolish to resent the unknown lady who had won his heart, yet she did. For when he married, he would come no more to see her, and how she would miss him!
Her throat was tight, but she managed to say, “You are welcome at any time, Mr Leatham.”
He gazed at her for a long moment, and surely his eyes were unusually intense? Or was that merely the wish of her heart?
27: More Proposals (August/September)
She had to escape from the house, at once, before anyone else came to disrupt her day and destroy all her equanimity. As soon as Mr Leatham had gone, striding away down the drive, Caroline dashed upstairs for a bonnet, and hastened through the house.
“Susie, if anyone else calls, anyone at all, I am not at home.”
Then she went out into the garden. The silence and the smell of pipe smoke from the rear of the wood store suggested that Martin was not as diligent in wood chopping as might be hoped. On another day, in a different mood, she might have stopped to reprimand him, but today she didn’t care. All she wanted was to be out of the house, and for once she understood Poppy’s need to disappear from time to time. Not into the woods, though! Poppy loved to wander far afield, but Caroline had no desire to go far. Just far enough to leave the house and all its responsibilities behind. Just far enough that she could think.
She passed through the small pleasure grounds and then the rather dishevelled patch that had perhaps once been a neat shrubbery. Beyond that was the area of former lawn where the goats were pastured today, and the orchard. It was not a hot day, the sun screened by dull, grey clouds, but there was a welcome coolness under the trees. The burgeoning fruits were growing large enough to weigh down the branches, but there was a clearly worn path winding through the trees and then, tucked away at the far end, a wooden seat that John Christopher had made. How many assignations had this seat
seen, new as it was? Such a convenient and secret place for two lovers to meet and yet they were still in the garden. How many hours had Poppy spent here, unchaperoned, with John?
But she would not wallow in guilt. What was done was done, and today she had her own problems to consider. Her problem was tall and well built and handsome when he smiled. Which he had done frequently of late. Now she knew why. He was in love. And how had that happened, when he had seemed quite definitely not in love at Narfield Lodge? What was it he had said… ‘None of them please me as well as you do’… that did not seem in the least like a man in love.
Unless… unless he meant her? No, surely that was impossible.
But he had kissed her. Not a proper kiss, as a man in love might attempt, but the lightest peck on the lips. How it had tormented her, that kiss! It had kept her awake at night, wondering, for the first time in all her two and twenty years, what it might be like to be married, and have a man in her life as close and as intimate to her as her sisters were. She had thought about it and come to no conclusions. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as terrible as she’d always feared. Mama and Papa had been happy, after all. Or perhaps it would be the surrender of everything that made her truly herself. To belong totally to a man… to one man in particular… to Charles.
She shivered. His words echoed in her mind. ‘She is very special indeed.’ What did he mean… who did he mean? Could he mean her? Even if it were so, did she want to marry him? Did she love him? Impossible to say.
But of one thing she was very certain, beyond the least shadow of a doubt — she did not want him to marry anyone else.
~~~~~
Charles smiled as he walked home. He had believed it to be a huge mistake to go tearing after Will when he learnt he had left the house that morning. He knew his errand, and it could bring Charles nothing but torment to arrive at Bursham Cottage to find Will secure in his successful suit. Instead, he had found the most blissful situation — Will sent away on the wrong side of Caroline’s temper, and herself alone and in need of his company. ‘Sit down and cheer me up, for I am still cross,’ she had said, and he had managed to make her smile. How astonishing to be able to do so! They had come a long way since their first, infelicitous meeting.
And then the foolish Alsager twins had given him the perfect opportunity to hint at his own change of heart. Had she understood him? Surely she had! He had not been very subtle. It would be foolish to rush into it, but to give her a tiny hint so that she would not be unprepared… yet he had planned his campaign rather well, he thought. Will had upset his strategy somewhat, but he had now been routed and the field was left to Charles. All he had to do was to convince Caroline…
He was so lost in his own thoughts that he walked straight into the summer parlour without hesitation, and there discovered a scene as dramatic as it was incomprehensible. Mildred was seated on a chaise longue, a handkerchief to her eyes, weeping copiously, while Will knelt at her feet, her free hand pressed against his cheek, his face mere inches from hers. As Charles stood gaping at them, Will released Mildred’s hand and leapt to his feet. If Charles’s suspicions had not already been aroused, Will’s furious blush would have given him away.
“Ah… Charles…” Will began.
Recollecting himself, Charles made a hasty bow. “I beg your pardon. I shall retreat at once.”
He turned to do so, but Will cried, “No, no! Stay, I beg you, cousin. You may be the first to congratulate us. Miss Beacher… my dear Mildred… has just this minute consented to be my wife.”
Charles opened his mouth, realised that his astonishment was too great for speech and closed it again. How could a man who had left the house that morning determined to marry one woman now be betrothed to another? It was beyond all understanding.
“I see you are surprised,” Will said, with a commendable degree of understatement. “I have long held Miss Beacher in the greatest admiration, as you know…” Had he known that? Will certainly had more tolerance of her prosiness than most. “…but my situation has always prevented me from speaking. Had I already received the preferment which will one day be mine, I should not have hesitated, but I could never ask her to so reduce her mode of living as to share my poverty. It would not have been fitting. But when I entered the house just now and Miss Beacher divulged her wonderful news… in the midst of our shared happiness at her good fortune…” Again he blushed. “…we… we became aware that we both harboured certain… feelings which could not… which need not be any longer repressed.”
He paused, awaiting a suitable response from Charles. What could he say? He was stunned, and disappointed to find Will, for all his moralising to Caroline, was nothing but a fortune hunter. Fifteen thousand pounds! Yes, that would be more than enough to tempt an avaricious man to abandon a lady with only two or three thousand. Still he could not speak.
Will went on, “Miss Beacher, I now understand, has been very much distressed by… certain events. The death of her beloved Ben, of course, but also that Alfred felt obliged to offer for her, and everyone had been so kind that she had felt obliged to accept him. She has always hoped to find another man who would value her for her many good qualities and not marry her merely from duty.”
That was a sentiment Charles could very much understand. “My dear Miss Beacher,” he said, sitting beside her and handing her his handkerchief to replace the sodden one she held. “Why did you not say as much? No one should marry from duty alone, without affection. If they had known, Mama would not have… Alfred would not have…”
They would not have said so, but Mildred would have felt the weight of her obligation to them. Mama wanted an heir, and soon, and Alfred was a gentle soul who would do his duty, just as Charles had once thought to do. And Mildred, poor grieving Mildred, had accepted him in gratitude and despair but without love.
“Oh, Mildred,” Charles said gently. “You poor, dear girl. And will my cousin make you happy?”
“Oh yes!” she said, through her tears.
“You are not accepting him because you feel you ought?”
“No. Oh, no, not in the least. I have always held him in the greatest regard. You must be aware that I have always been best suited to a life as a clergyman’s wife, Charles. I would have done my best to make Alfred happy, and if you had… well, you never liked me, so it did not arise, but—”
“It was not a matter of liking or disliking,” he said. “You are so good that you make me feel… unworthy. I could never be married to someone so superior to me in every way. Will is a very good match for you, and I shall like you very well when you are his wife and not here as daily proof of my inadequacy. I wish you both joy.”
~~~~~
SEPTEMBER
The autumn rains began early, trapping Caroline indoors for day after day. In Romsey, she could still have dashed out between showers to do a little shopping, for the pavements dried quickly, but here in the country the inevitable consequence of rain was mud. If she were prepared to lift her skirts and not mind her fine new boots becoming caked in the stuff, she would have walked about as usual, and if she were minded to have the horse put to the gig and take Martin away from his work, she could have been driven about like a lady. But she would not do so, except on Thursdays, when she visited Starlingford and Corranwater. Then it seemed only right to take the gig, and as often as not she visited some of the shops as well, which pleased Martin greatly. Whichever village they were in, he always found a helpful boy to mind the horse while he went off to the inn to refresh himself until he was wanted again.
The Alsager twins were formally betrothed, and seemed not too dispirited by the prospect of matrimony. They departed with their mother to visit the Harling family, leaving their father and grandmother behind.
Poppy’s marriage was fast approaching, and Mrs Stratton had helpfully undertaken to see about her wedding clothes. She had a seamstress in Romsey who would be making Lin’s, and would be happy to make Poppy’s, too.
“It will save you all a deal
of sewing,” she said cheerfully, “and if you will undertake to pay for the materials—”
“We have plenty of fabric,” Lin said, bouncing with excitement. “Mama laid by a great quantity of silks and muslins and velvets and all sorts of wonderful things, and this is precisely what Mama’s box is for, isn’t it, Caro? We can use everything in it, can’t we?”
“Not everything, Lin,” Mrs Stratton said. “You must leave enough for Miss Milburn’s wedding clothes.”
“Oh, but Caro will never marry,” Lin said cheerfully. “Will you, Caro?”
“Never say never,” Mrs Stratton said. “Even if she does not, one third of everything in the box is hers.”
Caroline said nothing, but Lin’s words stabbed her like knives. That was her own sister’s opinion of her marriage prospects — that no man would ever want her. Or perhaps she meant that Caroline would never want a man. Even a few weeks ago, she would have said as much herself, but now… No, she would not think of Charles Leatham. He must not be permitted to destroy her happiness. So she smiled and said nothing, and if the smile was a little strained, no one noticed.
Mr Stratton was now employed at Salisbury, and was living at the Wheatsheaf Inn until he married and would move into Bursham Cottage. There had been much discussion about bedrooms, but in the end it had been decided that there was no significant difference between any of the rooms and no need for any alteration. The two husbands would simply move into the same room as their wives.
If Caroline wondered just how well the arrangement would work in practice, she kept such thoughts to herself. Everyone spoke of it as though nothing would change, but for her, everything would change, for she would no longer be mistress of the house. Lin and Poppy, as married women, would take precedence over her, and she would have to defer to them. She would be obliged to hand over the keys to the linen and silver cupboards to Lin, and the key to the wine cellar to Lester Stratton. Lin would decide the meals and give orders to the servants. How many more servants would they need, now that they would have two men in the house and a nursery to set up? And what of the account books and the keys to the safe? Would Lester expect to take charge of the household finances? Caroline would be reduced to the status of the poor relation, and she must accustom herself to her destined rôle as spinster aunt to her sisters’ children, she supposed, unless…
The Lacemaker (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 2) Page 28
