Allerdale: Confirmed Bachelors Book 1

by Jenny Hambly

  “Perhaps it was true,” Miles suggested.

  Lord Carteret gave a hard crack of laughter. “You know as well as I that she was the apple of her father’s eye. He would gainsay her nothing! My fortune was the equal of Haverham’s and my address better, the only advantage he had over me was his rank.”

  “Then you had a lucky escape, my friend.”

  “I know it,” he acknowledged. “I thought Diana’s liveliness was all part of her natural vivacity, but she is a flighty piece. I do not resent Haverham at all, on the contrary, I feel rather sorry for him. I witnessed Diana in a clinch with Sandford on the terrace at a ball I attended only last week. She is clearly bored by her rather staid husband, but she is playing with fire. Haverham thinks so much of his consequence that I doubt it has crossed his mind that Diana is already playing such tricks, but if he gets wind of it, she will find herself whisked back to his pile in Staffordshire and kept there until she has provided him with an heir and a spare. She has thus far presented him only with a daughter.”

  “Were you not tempted to drop a word in his ear?”

  Lord Carteret’s upper lip curled into a sneer. “I do not take my revenge on women. Nor do I peddle gossip. You should know that.”

  “I do,” Miles said gently. “You are always the gentlemen. Forgive me, I don’t know where my wits have gone begging.”

  His friend’s lips relaxed. “You are forgiven. The prospect of trawling the marriage mart for a suitable bride is enough to send anyone’s wits begging. You are cutting it a little fine, however. You have only five weeks, six at most, of the season remaining and the most beautiful prospect has already been snapped up.”

  Miles groaned. “Do not tell me I have only the wallflowers left to me.”

  “It is not quite that bad, old fellow. There is one lady who is not quite in the usual style. She is a little older than some who have made their entrance into society this season, I judge her to be in her early twenties, and I would not call her beautiful—”

  Miles dropped his head into his hands as if in despair. “Say no more, I beg of you, or I will turn tail and return to Yorkshire!”

  Lord Carteret laughed. “And leave your mother disappointed? I think not. But let me finish, Allerdale. It is not so desperate as you suppose. Miss Edgcott may not be considered beautiful in the traditional way, but she is not unattractive. She has spent some years abroad. Her father, Sir Henry Edgcott, was attached to the foreign office in some capacity or other. They were in Constantinople for some time but left when the city was unfortunate enough to suffer the plague. They made their way to Malta, but it followed them there, and Sir Henry fell victim to the contagion. Last season, Miss Edgcott was still in mourning for her father, and it is these circumstances that have kept her from making an appearance in society before now.”

  Miles did not look convinced. “In what way is she not in the usual style?”

  “She has been used to moving in the first circles abroad. She is confident, intelligent, and unfashionably independent. Rumour has it that her father left her something in the region of fifty thousand pounds, and she does not appear to be very much interested in finding herself a husband.”

  “Has she had any offers?” Miles asked sceptically.

  “At least three that I am aware of,” Lord Carteret confirmed, “and only one from a fortune hunter. I believe there have even been some bets recorded in the book at White’s as to whether she will succumb to the not inconsiderable attention she has attracted and finally yield to the lures of matrimony.”

  Miles raised a brow. “You think to tempt me with a challenge, Carteret, but I am not so gullible. It seems you approve of her and yet you evince no interest in her yourself.”

  “I like her well enough, but have we not agreed that I am not interested in the married state? There is the added awkwardness of her being a relation of Lord Haverham. She is a guest in his house, and she would have to be a very extraordinary woman indeed to make me wish to cross that threshold.”

  “But you think this less than extraordinary lady might suit me?”

  Lord Carteret’s lips twitched. “And why not? The only thing that I have known to tempt you out of your sullens when you are in a temper is your humour. Miss Edgcott can be very amusing and possesses an admirable sangfroid. I cannot help but think that these two qualities are desirable, if not essential in any woman you marry.”

  Chapter 2

  Miss Eleanor Edgcott had not only been left a very generous sum of money by her father, but also a fine manor house by a loch in Scotland. She was very grateful that her cousin, Lord Haverham, had invited her to live with him during her year of mourning, however, for although the house was situated in an extremely picturesque spot, it was miles from anywhere, and the beauty of the country seemed only to be matched by the wet, cold climate. Three months there, in a house that was largely covered in holland covers, with a companion who had been hired by her family’s solicitor and had proved as dull-witted as she was voluble, had been almost more than she could support.

  Her companion, Miss Ryder, had accompanied her to Standon, Lord Haverham’s estate in Staffordshire, and the problem of how to dispose of her had swiftly revealed itself to Eleanor. Although she had found her incessant chatter a constant irritation, Diana, Lady Haverham, had found Miss Ryder a most sympathetic listener and discovered she had a way with children. When her nursery maid was discovered to be carrying on with one of the footmen and been summarily dismissed, Miss Ryder had come into her own. She had stepped into the breach without a moment’s hesitation. The child was approaching four years of age, and although it would have been beneath Miss Ryder’s dignity to take over the position of nursemaid, she had accepted the role under the title of governess.

  Eleanor had been much more than a daughter to her father; she had also been his companion, social secretary, and hostess. She knew how to conduct herself in any company, was not easily shocked, and liked to be busy. She was thoroughly enjoying the variety of amusements London offered her and was seriously considering selling her estate in Scotland and purchasing a house in the metropolis.

  Determined to employ her next companion herself, she had drawn up a list of the essential qualities this lady must possess, the most important of these being intelligence, humour, and discretion. She had advertised the position in the paper and now had only to interview her candidates.

  She glanced at the clock and felt a little rush of anticipation as she realised it wanted only a few minutes until two o’clock. She had received fifteen letters of application for the post and had chosen the three that were the most coherent, legible, and also came with the benefit of a glowing character reference. She had kept quiet about her plans not wishing to give the impression to either her host or hostess that she was at all unhappy with her current situation, as well as being quite unwilling to brook any interference in the matter.

  She did not expect to be disturbed; Lord Haverham was almost always at his club on a Wednesday afternoon, and Diana invariably liked to rest between two and four if they were not otherwise engaged.

  Her eyes swivelled towards the door as it opened. Clinton, Lord Haverham’s butler, stepped softly into the room and announced Miss Crevel. Eleanor rose swiftly to her feet.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Crevel. Your timing is all that it should be.”

  Miss Crevel looked to be somewhere in her forties. She held herself well, possessed a quiet elegance, and had rather sharp grey eyes that suggested a keen intelligence. This impression was reinforced when she smiled and replied swiftly, “I should hope it is, ma’am. You could hardly wish for a companion who would always be keeping you waiting.”

  Eleanor’s lips twitched at this humorous sally, but her smile quickly faded as she observed Miss Crevel’s puzzled glance and realised that the comment had not been an example of the lady’s wit but rather of a literal mind.

  “Please, sit down,” she said.

  Miss Crevel sat and favoured Eleanor with a conf
ident stare. Both her list of accomplishments and her reference had been particularly good so it was perhaps not surprising that she should not doubt herself.

  “Tell me, Miss Crevel,” Eleanor said, “how do you see your role as my companion?”

  Miss Crevel looked surprised. “Surely it is for you, Miss Edgcott, to tell me what you expect from a companion?”

  “And so I may,” Eleanor said, “after I have heard your own ideas on the subject.”

  “Very well. I should expect to always be with you when we receive visitors of the male variety and accompany you wherever you may wish to go. In short, Miss Edgcott, as you are still quite a young lady, I would see my role as that of protectress of your reputation. As well as this, I hope that I would be able to keep you tolerably well entertained when we are at home. I am very well read and am perfectly capable and willing to discuss any number of subjects.”

  Eleanor was reasonably sure that those subjects would be of a serious nature and an imp of mischief prompted her to say, “Well read? Excellent. I do so enjoy reading myself. What is your favourite novel?”

  Miss Crevel’s lips twisted in distaste. “I do not read novels, Miss Edgcott. Novel reading encourages idleness at best and immorality at worst. Reading should be an intellectually uplifting experience rather than one which panders to sensation and irrationality. I think a person’s taste and character is more easily revealed by what they read than anything else.”

  “I see,” Eleanor said reflectively. “I have never thought myself idle and yet I have read many novels. I must admit that although I found some of the stories to be so improbable as to be laughable, they did help a rainy afternoon pass more quickly. And others, you know, had the benefit of being witty, amusing, and true to life.”

  “If you engage me as your companion, ma’am, I am confident that I could introduce you to a wide selection of histories, sermons, and moral essays which would persuade you that your time reading novels has been truly wasted.”

  Eleanor rose and smiled. “I am sure you are right, Miss Crevel. I shall not keep you waiting long but will send a message to you by tomorrow at the latest, informing you of my decision.”

  As if possessing some sixth sense that alerted him to the imminent departure of guests, Clinton appeared at that moment and showed Miss Crevel out. Eleanor still stood in the middle of the room, a faint frown between her brows when he came again into the morning room.

  “Miss Ripple arrived some five minutes ago, ma’am. I have put her in the book room. Would you like me to show her in?”

  “Yes, of course,” Eleanor said. “Thank you, Clinton.”

  A slender lady with a pretty shawl draped about her shoulders tripped into the room with a restless energy and a smile on her lips. Eleanor judged that Miss Ripple was a few years older than Miss Crevel.

  “I am early, I know it,” she said in a rush. “I am fully aware that guests who arrive early are just as annoying as those who arrive late!”

  Eleanor jumped as Miss Ripple made the most extraordinary sound. Never before had she heard such a laugh; it began as a gentle whinny, before deepening as it gained momentum and ending on a hoarse, donkey-like bray.

  “Not that I am a guest, but I am sure the principle is the same.”

  Although Miss Ripple appeared confident, Eleanor was inclined to think that her hideous laugh might be put down to nerves.

  “I am sure I have no objection at all to you being early,” she said kindly. “Please sit down, Miss Ripple, and tell me how you see your role as my companion.”

  Miss Ripple did not seem at all thrown by this question. “Well, I have a great deal of experience in the role,” she said confidingly. “Although thus far, I have served ladies far older than you, Miss Edgcott. I must admit, I think it would be refreshing to be a companion to a young lady such as yourself.”

  Eleanor saw the hopeful gleam in Miss Ripple’s faded blue eyes and asked, “In what way would it be refreshing, ma’am?”

  “Well, I imagine that you would like me to accompany you to a variety of entertainments.”

  “Would you enjoy such an arduous task even though it might keep you out very late?”

  Miss Ripple clapped her hands together and said eagerly, “I would indeed, Miss Edgcott. I have been used to spending my evenings reading to my employer, which is something I do not mind at all for I do enjoy a good novel or poem as much as the next person, I am sure, but just think, if you were to take me about with you, I might meet the great man himself!”

  Eleanor considered the various gentlemen she had met during the weeks she had been in Town. Most had been pleasant, a few impressive, but she would apply the term ‘great’ to none of them.

  “The great man? Can it be that you have hopes of meeting the prince regent, Miss Ripple? If it is indeed your ambition, I must disappoint you, I fear. He is quite above my touch.”

  This time Eleanor could not quite suppress a wince as Miss Ripple abandoned herself to mirth. After a few moments, she made an effort to gather herself, dabbed at her leaking eyes with a handkerchief, and gasped, “You are funning, of course. I am sure the prince has much to recommend him, although I have heard that he is not what he once was and has become sadly fat, but that is neither here nor there, suffice it to say, I have no ambition to meet him. The person I refer to has such an exquisite sensibility, so perfect a command of the written word, and such a noble countenance that one cannot help but hope for at least a glimpse of him. I am sure anyone who has read Childe Harold could not fail to describe its author as great.”

  A vision of Miss Ripple accompanying her to a ball or musical evening and swooning at Lord Byron’s feet came into Eleanor’s mind. She brought the interview to a swift close, and once Miss Ripple had left, picked up the letter that lady had written and read it carefully. She could find no evidence of the breathless, rambling style the lady evinced in person in her missive. She sighed. All her hopes must be on Miss Gissop.

  It seemed that this lady would not disappoint. She could have been no more than ten years Eleanor’s senior, was pretty in an understated sort of way, and had bright, intelligent eyes. When Eleanor asked her to describe how she saw her role as companion, those eyes twinkled.

  “How very clever of you to ask such a general question, Miss Edgcott, and one that is so seemingly innocuous.”

  “Seemingly?”

  Miss Gissop’s soft, deep laugh was gentle on the ears. “Indeed. You have given no clue as to your own preferences in a companion and so provided me with enough rope that I may either jump blindly through hoops in an effort to please you or tie myself up in knots!”

  A glimmer of amusement brightened Eleanor’s deep, brown eyes. “You make me sound like such a scheming female! I assure you I am no such thing!”

  Miss Gissop smiled. “Then I shall answer your question as honestly and simply as I may. I would endeavour to be just what the word implies; a companion to you. I am old enough to be able to offer the respectability the position requires and perhaps offer you some advice if my opinion is sought, but not so old that I will be unable to enter into your feelings on any number of matters.”

  Eleanor could not help but admire this adroit answer. It suggested a compatibility between them without offering any specific information. Miss Gissop had taken the rope offered to her and rather than jump through hoops or tie herself up in knots, had fashioned a tightrope that she had delicately navigated without a wobble.

  She picked up Miss Gissop’s reference and scanned it for a moment. “Sir Stuart Crane mentioned that you looked after his sister very well, but I notice that you were only with her for a year.”

  Miss Gissop sighed. “Was it only a year? It felt much longer.”

  “Oh dear. Was Miss Crane difficult to please?” Eleanor asked in a sympathetic tone.

  Miss Gissop gave a conspiratorial smile. “Only after midday.” She leaned forwards and dropped her voice. “She was quite addicted to strong drink but would not touch a drop until then.
”

  Not by the flicker of an eye did Eleanor display the disappointment she felt at this answer, but she was indeed dismayed. Miss Gissop had fallen at the final hurdle; intelligent and humorous she might be, but if she had also been discreet, she would not have breathed a whisper about her former employer’s failings.

  The hope that the trail of visitors to his house in South Audley Street might go unnoticed by Lord Haverham was dashed when he returned home a little earlier than was his habit. He came into the house as Miss Gissop departed it. After a quiet word with the butler, he strode into the morning room, a frown between his eyes.

  “I hear you have had a busy afternoon, Eleanor,” he said. “You had not mentioned that you were looking for another companion, and I must say that I cannot see that you have need of one whilst you are under my roof and have Diana to keep you company.”

  Lord Haverham’s natural expression tended to be serious, but Eleanor saw both bewilderment and hurt lurking in his hazel eyes.

  She crossed the room to him and laid a hand upon his sleeve. “Do not be cross, Frederick. I did not think it worth mentioning the matter until I had found a suitable candidate for the post. I have been happy living with you, but I cannot do so forever. I find London suits me very well and am considering purchasing or hiring a property of my own here, but you must see that I cannot set up my own establishment without a companion.”

  As she had expected, her cousin was clearly upset by this notion.

  “Four and twenty is far too young to be setting up your own establishment, my dear,” Lord Haverham said. “It would look very odd. You should rather be looking about you for a husband.”

  “Why? One of the things I most admired about the culture in Constantinople was that women were allowed to have property and wealth in their own right. I am fully aware, however, that I am extremely fortunate to have the means to support myself in this country.”

  “If you mean to tell me that Constantinople is full of ladies who have set up their own establishments in preference to finding themselves a husband, it will be the first time I have heard of it.”