HONORIA
OR
THE SAFETY OF THE FRYING PAN
by
CATHERINE BOWNESS
Copyright © 2017 Catherine Bowness
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-1979584562
ISBN-10: 1979584567
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
With love and gratitude to:
Sophy and Ben for invaluable technical and emotional support
as always
and to
Janis, Caroline, Lyn, Aysen and Victoria for their endless patience, helpful advice and continuing encouragement.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 1
Honoria Ford was an heiress.
Her money defined her, on the one hand elevating her above those less well-endowed and on the other dehumanising her to a degree where she might be viewed as simply the possessor of a bank account from which unscrupulous persons would seek to part her. As a child, she had known nothing of the complexities of her position and had been unaware that, when she grew up, her thousands might render her excessively attractive to impecunious gentlemen.
She was an orphan and had been brought up by her aunt and uncle. Fortunately, never having been a poor relation, she had not been subject to the humiliations and petty tyrannies that are sometimes the lot of such unfortunates; neither her aunt nor her uncle made any distinction between her and their own progeny; indeed, if anything, they favoured Honoria, the aunt bending over backwards to include her in every expression of affection that she extended to her own son and daughter, and the uncle taking no more notice of her than he did of his own children.
She had been in possession of the fortune almost all her life – or, rather, it had been awaiting her for more than twenty years. Her mother had died less than a week after giving birth to her only child and her father had broken his neck whilst hunting a few months later; some said he had become reckless as a result of losing his wife so soon after marriage. She had no memories of either and, while she often wished that she had at least one parent to call her own, it would be untrue to say that she missed them; she had, after all, never known them.
Neither Honoria nor her cousins had any means of knowing whether they grew up in a well regulated household or not, it being the only one of which they had any experience, so that it was not until they were grown that they began to wonder about certain aspects of their upbringing such as the fact that Lord Charles, Honoria’s uncle, rarely spoke and, although inhabiting the house alongside his wife and children, took very little part in family life. He sat through breakfast with his head in the newspaper, generally avoided nuncheon altogether and ate his dinner mostly in complete silence, only occasionally affording his family the benefit of a blighting remark or two.
Lady Charles enjoyed indifferent health and spent a good deal of time confined to her chamber, attended only by her maid.
There had originally been four children growing up together and Honoria was not the only orphan. The other was the Earl of Waldron, who had inherited the title when he was a boy. When his mother followed his father into the grave he had been taken into his uncle’s family. He was the eldest of the four; Lord Charles’s son, Frank, had followed and in due course Helen, who was a year younger than Honoria, had been born. Lord Waldron, a man of some thirty summers, had moved out of the family home some time ago.
Honoria, who was now only a few months’ shy of the birthday which would mark her majority, had recently begun to take more interest in her inheritance. It was managed by her uncle and, since he spoke of this no more than he did of any other matter, she had no notion either of its extent or of where it was – she presumed it was invested and not simply lying in coins in a strong box in her uncle’s study.
He said, when she asked of what the fabled fortune consisted and what precisely would happen on her twenty-first birthday, that she need not trouble her head about such matters: all would be arranged properly and very likely it would be possible to pass the care of it straight to her husband without her ever having to be concerned with such dull matters.
“But, Uncle, I do not have a husband,” Honoria pointed out.
“You have not yet reached your majority either,” Lord Charles reminded her.
“There is barely six months left of my minority,” she argued, “and I have not yet met anyone whom I could marry; indeed, I have not met any men to whom I am not in some way related. Are you not cutting it a bit fine if you are of a mind to give it directly to my husband?”
He smiled; he did not often do so, which always seemed a pity as, on those rare occasions when he did, it was a startlingly sweet one. “You say that, child, without having applied a great deal of thought to the matter. You can only marry one man and there is therefore no necessity to meet ‘men’ in the plural. I do not foresee any difficulty in your acquiring a husband in plenty of time.”
“Have you thought where one might be found?” she asked curiously.
“I do not think that the net will need to be cast very wide,” he said pleasantly enough, “but I cannot pretend that that is precisely my forte. I think we can safely leave such matters to your aunt, although I shall of course be required to give my consent.”
“Shall you expect me to give mine?”
“Of course, my dear. No one would expect you to marry a man you had taken in dislike. I hardly think that is a question which needs to be asked.”
“You say that I need only to meet one - and that is true if he should turn out to be all that I am looking for – but where shall I meet him? Aunt is very good and kind but we do not leave the house except to walk about the grounds or ride a little way – and it is almost unknown for anyone to visit us.”
“When you say ‘us’, are you including Helen?”
“Yes, for she is nineteen now and, if she is not to become an old maid as well, is it not time for her too to be introduced to Society?”
Lord Charles frowned. “You are both as yet very young and not in much danger of old maidenhood. I know that, aware of the dangerous attraction that a fortune can exert upon undesirable suitors, your aunt has been keen to keep you secure for as long as possible. I am sorry that such restrictions, put in place entirely for your benefit, should have begun to chafe. I will speak to Julia and see if she is prepared to ease up a little. But I reiterate: there is unlikely to be the least difficulty in finding you a suitable husband – or even several to choose between.”
“I own that I should like to have a choice. But, Uncle, I began by asking you the precise sum that will be mine on my birthday – and where it is presently invested. I presume it is not
all sitting in a bank somewhere.”
“I am surprised at your taking such an excessive interest in the matter, Honoria. I doubt very much whether you would understand even if I were to explain it to you. Some of the money is indeed in a bank. You will be able to withdraw a portion of this on the day of your birthday – and I daresay you will want to buy yourself a new bonnet or some such - but the majority is invested and will take some time to realise. It has, for nearly one and twenty years, been taken care of by my man of business and is probably best left where it is.”
Her uncle’s attempt to soothe her was not successful; perhaps if he had not conceded the purchase of a bonnet as an understandable desire on her part, she would not have persisted in demanding a reckoning but his expectation that all she would want would be something frivolous hardened her resolve to have the management of her thousands under her own control.
“Yes, that sounds perfectly reasonable,” she said a little stiffly, curbing her irritation and trying to speak calmly – man to man as it were. “I believe there will be a good deal to play around with ultimately and I shall certainly not need the whole sum on my birthday. However, as I am thinking about my future, I would be grateful if you could let me have a reckoning of precisely how much there is as well as where it is – and how long it will take to realise the entire sum. In addition, it would be helpful to know how much I will be able to withdraw as soon as I attain my majority. I think it would be best if you have your man of business draw up a list so that I can study it carefully before finalising my plans.”
This forthright speech drew a prolonged silence from Lord Charles.
“Very well,” he said at length, recovering a little from the shock of his niece’s demands as he realised that she did not expect him to disclose instantly the exact number of pounds, shillings and pence which she had been bequeathed. That onerous task could be postponed a little longer. He had been afraid for a moment that she might refuse to leave the room until he had made a full disclosure.
“I will speak to your aunt about increasing the number of social engagements you undertake. I own I had not realised that you craved entertainment of that sort.” This was said with a degree of derision for what Honoria assumed her uncle considered to be frivolity.
She wondered what other sorts of entertainment there might be and supposed that they might perhaps have visited the circus – if it had been camped nearby – or a concert or theatre; but they had never done any of these things. Entertainment, such as it was, took place exclusively in their own house amongst themselves. She and Helen did their best to amuse themselves but were nevertheless frequently bored, so much so that their weekly visit to the lending library – was that an entertainment? - was a high point in their lives. If they could not themselves go to parties or engage in flirtations, they could at least read about imaginary people doing so. Although it was a poor substitute, they had grown accustomed to their meagre diet and were not, for the most part, discontented, although it did occur to them to wonder from time to time what the point might be of their endeavouring to learn the steps to the latest dances when neither had ever danced with anyone but each other – and occasionally Frank when he was at home – all their lives.
It was now early December and Frank was expected to return from the university for the Christmas vacation within the next day or two; this was a longed-for event which had animated almost the entire household with pleasurable anticipation for at least the past week.
The family, which had at one time consisted of the two grown-ups, Lord Waldron, Frank, Honoria and Helen was undergoing a protracted diminuendo, the children leaving in order of age. Lord Waldron had left as soon as he attained his majority and was now a rare visitor to the Hall. In spite of being a belted earl he had a job – of sorts – attached to the British Embassy in Vienna.
The next to leave, in order of seniority, should – presumably would - be Frank; he had indeed begun the process, first by being sent away to school and now by attending the university. In addition, since he had begun at Oxford, he was inclined to spend several weeks of the vacation staying in London with friends. He had not so far shown any sign of wishing to embark upon earning his living which, unlike Waldron, it was generally assumed he would be obliged to do unless he could marry a fortune. Lord Charles was a younger son and, although not purse-pinched, was not precisely flush either.
Unless Waldron should come by a fatal accident or contract a terminal disease in the near future, it seemed unlikely that Frank would ever succeed to the earldom; there was no reason that anyone could see, at least at present, why the Earl should not eventually marry and produce an heir of his own. Indeed, with every passing year, that outcome was surely increasingly likely.
The girls, of course, would not be expected to leave until they married and, in spite of neither being so very young any longer, Lord Charles did not appear concerned about this.
Lady Charles was in high alt at the thought of the imminent arrival of her son. This took the form of snapping at Helen and fussing over Honoria, changing her mind so frequently about what that damsel should wear that the poor girl had changed her dress at least five times before noon.
Honoria made no attempt to argue about the growing pile of garments discarded upon the floor, but submitted patiently to the older woman’s demands. By the time they went downstairs for nuncheon Honoria was wearing a deceptively simple gown fashioned from merino in a soft shade of green which became her well, at least according to Aunt Julia.
“You have grown excessively pretty in the last few weeks,” she observed, looking her niece over critically now that her hair had been tidied again after all the putting on and taking off of gowns, “and that colour suits you very well.”
“Thank you, Aunt,” Honoria said, touched by the compliment.
She was pretty and, although she had never met a single gentleman who might have told her so, she was perfectly aware of it, having a mirror and a pair of eyes. She was of slightly less than medium height, possessed of a slender figure, an abundance of yellow hair and a pair of large blue eyes.
The praise accorded to her cousin’s looks did not meet with Helen’s approval. She cast a critical eye over the other girl and observed that she doubted Frank would notice any change.
“I am certain he will not,” Honoria agreed cordially. She had been surprised when her aunt praised her looks – not a common occurrence - now she was astonished that Helen should mention Frank in such a context. “I am persuaded he will not look at me at all beyond making certain that I am not an impostor before he kisses me.”
“Of course he will; he dotes upon Honoria,” Lady Charles argued, two spots of colour beginning to flame on her cheeks.
“But not to look at her,” Helen argued. “I know you want him to fall in love with her,” she went on, now addressing her mother in a weary voice, “but I cannot see how you will contrive to change the way he thinks about her, no matter how carefully you choose what she is to wear.”
“I am sure I do not know of what you are speaking,” Aunt Julia replied loftily before addressing the bewildered Honoria again. “You are really quite lovely, dear child, and I cannot think that any young man will not appreciate that.”
“What – even one who has known her since she was a baby and thinks of her as a sister? Really, Mama, that is a quite shocking thought. Should I too be worried about him looking at me in that way?”
“But you are his sister,” her mother pointed out, frowning. “Honoria is his cousin.”
There was a pause while all three thought about the differences between cousins and sisters until her ladyship, believing that she had won the argument, added, “You must accustom yourself to receiving compliments, my dear. Why, any young man would be bound to be taken by you.”
“No doubt,” Helen put in snappishly. “But how, pray, is she to become accustomed to any such thing when we never go anywhere? She – and I – will be too old to attract anyone except an old man if you keep us
sequestered here much longer.”
“I cannot conceive what you mean, Helen,” Aunt Julia said, showing clear signs of flying into a pet. “Your father and I have taken a great deal of trouble to protect you from forming unsuitable attachments.”
“Stuff!” Helen exclaimed, becoming red in the face in her turn. “You have protected us to such an excessive degree that I do not see how either of us could have formed any attachments – suitable or otherwise. Why, we are positively antique now.”
“Nonsense! In any event, it is of no use for you to be thinking of any such thing just yet - Honoria is the elder and must marry first.”
“Yes,” Honoria said. “If you were to find a suitor before me, it would be too dispiriting. I am afraid you will just have to wait.”
“If you cannot prevail upon Frank and Honoria to tie the knot I can see I shall be waiting ‘til kingdom come!” Helen predicted with a despairing sigh.
Chapter 2
“I daresay we shall think of something before you become too withered to have lost all hope,” Honoria said, rallying. “In any event, if I am obliged to wait for Frank and you are obliged to wait for me, neither of us will be married at all.”
“It is all very well for you,” Helen retorted, turning some of her ire on to her cousin. “You know you are bound to attract suitors – on account of your fortune if nothing else. If Frank will not come up to scratch, someone else is bound to do so eventually. It is not at all the same for me: I have only the most meagre portion and must rely entirely upon what little I have in the way of looks, which were never much and are already beginning to fade.”
“They will vanish altogether if you continue to be so peevish,” Honoria told her, wondering how either of them was to attract even one suitor without anyone ever having seen them.
“Yes,” Lady Charles agreed; she had been silent for some time, turning her face from one girl to the other in the hope of lighting upon a means to prevent what seemed likely to turn into a full-blown scene, with Helen flying into a pet and Honoria fanning the flames. “You are a pretty enough girl, Helen, but inclined to be shrewish. You must cultivate a more agreeable manner if you wish to attract any gentlemen.”
Honoria Or The Safety 0f The Frying Pan Page 1
