by Jenny Hambly
“Not in Town,” her lord said firmly.
“No, of course not,” Lady Brigham said, the tiniest bit of disappointment lacing her words. “It would give the horrid gossips something to dine out on for weeks. Not that I would care a button.”
“Miss Edgcott might, however,” Lord Brigham said gently, “and I certainly would.”
“Then it is, of course, out of the question,” Lady Brigham conceded, “but I do not think you would object if we were to race at Brigham?”
“Not at all,” he allowed.
“Do say you will visit us at Brigham this summer, Miss Edgcott,” Lady Brigham said, her eyes sparkling. “It would be such fun.”
“Mama!” Miles said, frowning. “Racing is dangerous, you should not—”
“I would very much like to see Brigham,” Eleanor interrupted, “and I also think a race would be fun.”
Lord Brigham sent an amused look in his son’s direction. “Then that is settled. I think I should just mention that there will be certain conditions attached to this race.”
“Oh?” Lady Brigham said.
“Each lady must have a gentleman seated beside her so that in the unlikely event that the excitement of the occasion should lead either of you to be overcome by a dangerous recklessness generally unknown to the gentler sex, your safety will be ensured.”
“In that case,” Miles said, grinning, “I withdraw my objection.”
“But Brigham—”
“That is my final word,” he said softly.
“Oh, very well,” Lady Brigham said, “but I cannot think it necessary.”
Neither could Eleanor, but she smiled anyway. She rather thought she would enjoy being part of this family.
When Miles returned her to South Audley Street, he bowed over her hand and said, “Until tomorrow, then.”
Eleanor nodded, not daring to speak lest she begged him to ask her again immediately.
“Ah, Eleanor,” Frederick said as she entered the house. “You’ve just missed Miss Finchley. Mr Pavlov took her off ten minutes ago, but not before I questioned him closely about his intentions. He seemed a very sensible young man. I also sent one of our maids with her for propriety’s sake. I told her to go back to Standon afterwards.” He shook his head. “I shudder to think what would have become of that sweet young lady if you and Diana had not befriended her. But all’s well that ends well, eh?”
“It is a happy outcome indeed,” Eleanor said.
He had been glancing up at her intermittently as he rifled through the post on the hall table, but he suddenly sent her a rather penetrating glance.
“Have you changed your style in some way, Eleanor? I can’t quite put my finger on it, but you look different somehow.”
“Do I? I can’t imagine why,” she said casually.
“Did you enjoy yourself this morning?” he said. “You should have invited Lord Allerdale into the house.”
“I thought it might be a little awkward to explain Miss Finchley.”
Lord Haverham’s brows shot up. “By gad, it would.”
“But I am expecting a visit from him tomorrow.”
Something in the tone of her voice made her cousin look at her closely.
“Eleanor!” he said. “Now I know what is different, there is a softness about you, a glow almost. Has he proposed?”
A squeak came from the top of the stairs. “Eleanor! Is it true?”
“Yes,” she said, “It is true.”
Lord Haverham came quickly to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and beamed down at her.
“Congratulations!”
Diana ran down the stairs and threw her arms about Eleanor from behind.
“I shall miss you terribly, but I hope you will be very happy.”
Eleanor suffered herself to be wedged between them for a moment before disengaging herself.
“I should perhaps mention that I have not as yet given him my answer.”
Lord Haverham’s smile wavered. Diana’s mouth opened. They spoke at the same time.
“But you haven’t refused him?”
“Don’t you like him?”
Eleanor smiled. “I have not refused him, Frederick, and I do like him, Diana.”
Lord Haverham looked relieved and gave her an understanding smile.
“Of course, your acquaintance with him is not long—”
“It is not that,” Eleanor said. “I feel quite sure of my affections. I have asked him to ask me again tomorrow if he still wishes to when he has had time to consider my terms.”
“Your terms?” Frederick said, looking a little uneasy.
“Yes, my terms. The things that I would expect from a husband.”
Lord Haverham groaned. “You mean all that nonsense about listening to his wife’s counsel and considering her feelings—”
“You listened to my counsel, Frederick,” she said gently, glancing at Diana.
“Yes, well, I will allow that there are some things—”
“And you consider my feelings, Freddy,” Diana said.
“Of course I do, my love, but—”
“And I am sure that if Lord Allerdale is worthy of Eleanor, he will not be put off by her terms.”
“We shall discover that tomorrow,” he said, retreating to his study.
Eleanor and Diana turned as the knocker on the front door sounded. Linton glided past them and opened it.
“Miss Crabtree,” Eleanor said, coming forwards to greet her.
“I cannot stay,” she said, smiling at them both. “I have just come to say goodbye. We are on our way home. Papa is waiting in the carriage.”
“You must be very happy,” Eleanor said, taking her hands.
“I am,” Miss Crabtree said, her eyes crinkling in amusement. “Papa has told me that I am a very tiresome girl but that if I want Mr Shaddon, I shall have him.”
“I hope you will be very happy,” Diana said.
“Oh, I will be,” Miss Crabtree said with certainty. “I only hope Lord Allerdale will find someone he can like as much.”
“I think he already has,” Diana murmured.
Eleanor sent her a reproving look.
“I thought there was something between you that night at the theatre,” Miss Crabtree said. “It was nothing either of you said, but there was something in the way you looked at each other, as if a deeper communication existed between you. Or was I being fanciful?”
“No,” Eleanor said softly, “You were not, only I had not quite realised it then.”
An exasperated voice came from the carriage. “Come along, Anne!”
“I must go. Goodbye and good luck.”
As the carriage pulled away, another took its place and Georgianna and Marianne descended from it.
“Take them up to the drawing room, will you, Diana, whilst I take off my bonnet and pelisse?”
Diana raised a brow. “Yes, Eleanor, it is my house after all.”
Eleanor laughed. “You’d better hope Miles does not change his mind, for a house, it seems, cannot have two mistresses.”
When she entered the drawing room some ten minutes later, it was clear that Diana had not been able to resist sharing her news.
“We knew it!” Marianne said, rushing across the room and hugging Eleanor.
“We suspected it,” Georgianna corrected her.
Marianne laughed. “It is the same thing. It was something about the way—”
“We looked at each other,” Eleanor finished for her. “It seems that everyone knew it but me.”
“I did not,” Diana said, a little peevishly.
“You would have if you had come to Richmond,” Marianne said.
“I begin to wish I had.”
“Nothing is settled yet,” Eleanor reminded them.
“It will be,” Georgianna said. “Once Allerdale makes up his mind about something he rarely changes it. I think you were very wise to give him a list of conditions, however. But it seems to me that your list wasn’t very compre
hensive. I think you missed a trick.”
“Oh?” Eleanor said.
“Did you stipulate, for example, that he must never lose his temper with you?”
Eleanor smiled. “But then I would have denied myself the pleasure of provoking it.”
“Very true,” Georgianna acknowledged. “But you might have at least asked him to promise never to allow his dogs into the house.”
Eleanor raised a brow. “Does he have dogs?”
“All gentlemen have dogs,” Marianne said. “Georgianna used to be quite terrified of them.”
“I am no longer,” Georgianna said. “But I do not like them to roam the house at will. The duke’s do.”
“Well, I can’t see any problem with that,” Marianne said. “I think you should rather have asked him to bring you breakfast in bed each morning.”
“Does Cranbourne do that?” Eleanor asked, laughing.
“Yes, and it is very pleasant.”
“But I do not like to eat breakfast in bed,” she pointed out.
Marianne gave her a knowing grin. “I did not think I did, either.”
“I wonder if I should ask Freddy to do that?” Diana mused.
“Not at the moment,” Eleanor said dryly.
Diana giggled. “No, you are quite right. He almost ran from the room when I was ill the other morning.”
“But he did carry you there, knowing you were about to be,” Eleanor said gently.
“Yes, he did, didn’t he?” Diana said, on a sigh.
“I think,” Georgianna said, her eyes kindling, “that the most pertinent thing you should have demanded of him, is never to go on a drinking spree the night before a journey.”
“Definitely,” agreed Marianne, looking unusually stern.
“Oh dear,” Eleanor said. “I assume that is why you are still here. Miles was not on top form when he called for me this morning, but he was not incapacitated.”
“Then I can only assume he did not imbibe as much as Somerton or Cranbourne,” Georgianna said. “Neither of them have as yet, managed to emerge from their bed chambers.”
Chapter 20
Lord Brigham had asked Miles to return to Berkeley Square. He found him awaiting him in his study.
“Sit down, Allerdale,” he said, pouring them both a glass of claret.
Miles accepted the glass offered to him but looked at it dubiously.
“Drink it,” Lord Brigham said gently. “I know you do not think it, but it will make you feel better.”
When he had done so, he said, “Congratulations, Miles. I think Miss Edgcott will lead you a merry dance, but you will, at least, avoid the biggest causes of unhappy marriages; boredom and incompatibility.”
Miles grinned. “You are premature, sir. Miss Edgcott has asked me to ask her again tomorrow when I have considered our negotiation.”
As Miles explained, Lord Brigham’s eyes glinted with amusement.
“I think you got off lightly,” he said.
“So do I, sir.”
“I hope you will not change your mind.”
“There is not the remotest chance of it. I adore her.”
The door behind Lord Brigham was flung open. Lady Brigham and Lady Bassington tried to come through it at the same time and became wedged in the doorway, and after a brief moment’s undignified struggle, Lady Brigham shot forwards like a cork from a bottle.
Lord Brigham caught her and pulled her onto his knee.
She laughed and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, my dear.”
Lord Brigham eyed his sister with disfavour. “I thought I had hidden the key to that door?”
Lady Bassington smiled. “You need to be a little more imaginative, brother.”
“Oh, never mind that,” Lady Brigham said, jumping off her lord’s lap and rushing around the table to envelop her son in a scented embrace. “Miles! Oh, Miles! You have made me so happy.”
“Stop strangling the boy, Julia,” Lady Bassington said, dryly. “Although I must say, I am very pleased with him myself. Never knew he had so much sense.”
“You have never valued him as you should,” Lady Brigham said.
“On the contrary, I have always valued him exactly as I should, and I still loved him, warts and all.”
“None of you seems very surprised,” Miles said, ignoring this interplay. “And yet I had no idea I was going to propose until the words came out of my mouth.”
“There was a certain charged atmosphere between you and Miss Edgcott when we were at Richmond,” Lord Brigham said.
“And an even stronger one this morning,” Lady Bassington said, chuckling.
“And the way you looked up at her before you lifted her down from the carriage, Miles,” Lady Brigham said, softly sighing, “reminded me of the way Brigham used to look at me.”
“Used to?” Miles said, laughing. “Everyone who has ever witnessed you and Father waltz has seen that look. Which reminds me, I have not yet had the pleasure of waltzing with Miss Edgcott. That must be remedied.”
“Moving onto other, more mundane topics,” Lord Brigham said. “I have received a letter from Mr Willis this morning, it was nothing of import, but it has reminded me that you have always taken upon yourself the task of keeping an eye on his daughter. Is she still prospering?”
“She is doing very well, sir, but two new milliners have set up shop in Cranbourn Alley, ones who, I am afraid to say, employ young women of questionable morals.”
“Mr Willis will be most displeased at this news,” Lord Brigham said, frowning.
“There is no need for you to inform him of it,” Miles said. “Rebecca would not wish you to.”
“But it is my duty to do so.”
“Rebecca will be moving into premises on Bruton Street soon,” he said.
“But Miles,” Lady Brigham said. “That will be very expensive, surely? And it seems only two minutes since she completed her apprenticeship. Is she ready, do you think, to compete with the established shops in Mayfair?”
“She completed her apprenticeship two years ago, Mama, and I have it on the best authority that her hats are something above the ordinary.”
“Whose authority?” Lady Brigham said sceptically.
“Miss Edgcott’s.”
“Ah, I begin to see the light,” Lord Brigham said.
“I will admit Miss Edgcott’s hats are always very stylish,” conceded Lady Brigham.
“She designs them herself,” Miles said proudly. “She stumbled upon Rebecca’s shop and intends to go into business with her, as a silent partner. It is Miss Edgcott who discovered that the lease on Madame Lafayette’s shop would soon be available. She has already asked her solicitor to acquire it for her.”
“I always knew that girl was something out of the ordinary,” Lady Bassington said, “the moment I set my eyes on her.”
“And you are happy with this arrangement?” Lady Brigham said, a little doubtfully.
“Why not?” Miles said. “Rebecca deserves this opportunity, and I will support my wife in her endeavours, as I hope you will, Mama.”
“Of course, I will, dearest,” Lady Brigham said, her eyes suddenly brightening. “I wonder if I will get a discount?”
Although Eleanor had assured Miles that she was almost certain of her feelings, that word almost ensured that he did not sleep quite as soundly as he would have liked. He did not feel much inclined to take Lady Selena for a turn about the park, but Charles had asked him to keep an eye on her, and so he did not fail to call.
He grimaced as Lady Sheringham pushed her out of the house saying, “Come, come, Selena, do not keep his lordship waiting.”
Lady Selena flushed with colour and murmured something incoherent.
He handed her up into his curricle and offered her a reassuring smile.
“That’s the way,” Lady Sheringham said. “I can see you’ll know how to handle a shy young lady, Lord Allerdale.”
“I shall take very good care of her, ma’am,” he said coolly.
Lady Selena’s colour deepened even further.
“Do not be embarrassed by that old dragon,” Miles said.
“Oh, no,” she murmured, “I am not—”
“Yes, you are,” he said smiling. “And I don’t blame you. Subtlety is unknown to her.”
“Well, perhaps,” she said hesitantly.
“And you needn’t be shy with me,” Miles said, “As Charles regards me as a brother and you as a sister, we are practically related.”
This drew a small smile from her.
“That’s better. I know all about you Lady Selena. You are a girl who falls in rivers and climbs trees, what other scrapes did Charles get you into?”
She smiled. “It would be more correct to say I used to be a girl who fell in rivers and climbed trees.”
“Very well, I stand corrected. But I will share a secret with you; I have always admired girls who do such things.”
He felt her withdraw a little way back into her shell.
“Do not fear that I am flirting with you,” he said. “I am about to propose to quite another lady.”
“Miss Edgcott?”
He laughed. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know?” He glanced over his shoulder. “Tibbs, did you know?”
His groom grinned. “I had a feeling the way the wind was blowing when you let her drive your greys, and I was sure of it when you came back to the carriage smelling of April and May.”
“Charlie said that you liked her,” Lady Selena said.
“Well, I do,” he admitted. “And although my heart is set on another, I hope you will consider me your friend, Lady Selena, in Charles’ stead.”
“I would like that,” she said.
“Good. And you needn’t be on your best behaviour when you are with me; as well as knowing what a hoyden you were as a child, I have seen you throwing grapes at Charles, so there is no point.”
“Very well.”
“That’s better,” he approved.
He set the seal on their friendship by regaling her with tales of the least disreputable scrapes he and Charles had rescued each other from.
As they came near the place where he had walked with Eleanor the day before, something caught his eye. He pulled up his horses, jumped down from the curricle, and walked quickly over to the clump of trees they had stood beneath. He bent and with a slightly unsteady hand picked up a hat. The crown was crushed, as if someone had trod upon it. He smoothed out the bent brown and cream feathers, his heart beating uncomfortably fast. It was the hat Eleanor had worn only yesterday. He suddenly turned and sprinted back to the curricle. He was sure there would be a simple explanation; there had to be a simple explanation. Perhaps she had come for a walk, sat under the trees, and then removed her bonnet, forgetting all about it when she returned home. But he knew that Eleanor would never forget her bonnet.
