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Authors: The Kissing Bough

BOOK: Joan Smith
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“Don’t be ridiculous! Marry, at his age, and in his condition? I don’t intend to become your papa’s pensioner,” he said sharply.

“Don’t worry, it wouldn’t be a gift. He’d make you work for your money. Eleanor’s husband has taken over the Manchester brewery, but Papa plans to open another one in Kent. You would be perfect to run it.”

Nick just stared. “I don’t know anything about brewing ale, nor do I have the least interest in learning.”

“It is a deal more certain than farming,” she snipped. “Papa says farming is the worst investment a man can make. It takes so much land, and you are at the mercy of the weather and diseases and blights and corn prices
....
Whatever the weather, everyone likes his ale.”

Nick sat silent a moment, thinking. All these matters must be thrashed out between them, but in private, not with Jane and Lizzie and Willie casting those questioning looks from the card table.

He picked up the magazine and said, “Show me that bonnet again, the one with the pink feathers. You would look adorable in it.”

That easily was Aurelia diverted from discussing her future, and Nick’s. “I shall have the milliner put on blue feathers, of course. Pink is vulgar, don’t you think?”

“Blue suits you better. It matches your eyes.”

Oh, Lord! Was he doomed to a lifetime of these platitudes? His eyes strayed to the card table, where a lively argument had broken out.

“If you want my opinion, which you don’t, I think you reneged,” Pelham was saying to Willie.

“So succinctly put, Pelham,” Willie replied. “I can only wonder why, when you discerned my lack of interest in your opinion, you insisted on giving it.”

“Because you reneged.”

Nick wished he were at the table. He liked a good, argumentative game of cards. Jane, as he might have expected, soon brought order to the chaos.

“Let us deal a fresh hand. And next time, Master Jackanapes,” she added in a playful aside to Willie, “we shall all be keeping a sharp eye on you. You are forewarned.”

Willie inclined his head to Jane’s and said, smiling, “Then I shall keep the other two aces up my sleeve.”

Jane made some light response. How pretty she looked. Her little flirtation with Willie brought a sparkle to her eyes. She was not immune to Willie’s charm, despite her knowledge of his circumstances. He would steal her from Pelham, if Pel wasn’t careful.

How complicated this game of love was. A moment’s infatuation leading to a declaration, and one’s fate was sealed. He had come home from Spain, eager to get to Clareview, only to be pressured by Wellington into doing liaison work in London while Wellington went to Paris. He had met Aurelia and been bowled over by her beauty. She was young and friendly, and seemed exactly the bride he wanted to take home to Clareview. She had probably been attracted by the romance of his having been a colonel, back from the war, a protégé of Wellington. She wanted what he was tired of.

And now they were more or less stuck with each other. He would never be that carefree young soldier again. And she would never really be happy here, away from the only life she had ever known. She had been born and raised in a city. She didn’t ride, she didn’t even like dogs. Cutting a swath in society was her aim. And the fault was his. She was young and inexperienced. He was older and ought to have been wiser. They must reach some compromise. Perhaps when she started the nursery she would take more interest in Clareview.

 

Chapter Ten

 

Mrs. Lip ton had a touch of flu the next morning. Although she came down to breakfast, her flushed face was enough to cause her hostess concern.

“Emily, you have gone and caught Goderich’s cold,” Lizzie said.

“I expect I did catch it from Lord Goderich,” she said. “He was coughing last night.”

“You want to be well for the party, Emily. You must go straight to bed.”

“I promised James I would help him with the flowers in the conservatory. It is nice and warm there. Perhaps I could—

“No, no. Bed is the place for you,” Lizzie insisted.

“I don’t feel much like eating. I believe I will go and lie down for a few hours, if you would tell James, Jane.”

“I shall take your place in the conservatory,” Jane offered.

As soon as this was settled, Aurelia said, “Will you be coming to Brighton with me, Nick?”

“I’m afraid I cannot get away. I wish you will not go, my dear. With this flu going around—and Brighton is cold.”

“I simply must go shopping,” she insisted, looking to Willie for support.

Willie shrugged his shoulders. “You two battle it out between you. Never let it be said I stuck in my oar between lovers. If you decide to go, I shall be happy to accompany you.”

“There you are, then. Willie will go with you,” Lady Elizabeth said, and it was settled.

“Pel, will you go with them?” Nick asked.

Pel felt his throat and coughed. “I believe I have a touch of whatever is going around myself.”

“Good gracious!” Lizzie exclaimed. “We are all falling like flies, and with a party to prepare. Perhaps we should cancel it.”

Aurelia looked up, horrified. “I have had a reply to my invitations this morning, Aunt Lizzie. Mama and Papa are coming the day of the ball. Papa has postponed an important business meeting to come, and the Huddlestons will be arriving tomorrow. We cannot cancel the party.”

“That would be nearly as much bother as going forth with it,” Willie said. “The invitations have been delivered, the musicians hired, Cook has begun preparing the food. Surely there is no need to cancel. I had a touch of this cold myself last week. It passes in no time. I guarantee the invalids will be well in a day or two. What do you think, Nick?”

Aurelia’s wobbling lip told Nick what he was to think. “Let us go ahead with it. It is half-arranged,” he said.

She smiled at him. “I shall wear my new ball gown.”

“Oh, it is not a ball, my dear,” Lizzie reminded her. “Nothing too grand. The gown you wore on Christmas eve would do admirably.”

“That old thing?” Aurelia asked. “Everyone has seen it.”

Lady Elizabeth blinked in astonishment. Everyone had been seeing her magenta crepe for a decade, which did not mean they would not be seeing it again on New Year’s Eve, and for another decade.

Nick read the shock on all the faces staring at his beloved, and was angry with them all. He was angry with Aurelia, and with himself. Why couldn’t they understand? Why couldn’t she?

“Don’t leave your departure for Brighton too late, Aurelia,” he said, rather curtly. “It is coming on dark by four o’clock. You will want to leave Brighton by three, at the latest. What is so urgent that you must go today?”

“It’s a surprise, Nick,” she said. He thought she meant to buy him some bauble.

“I don’t much care for surprises,” he said, hoping still to prevent the visit.

“You will like this one,” she said.

Willie saw that he would have to provide a luncheon, preferably in the smartest inn at Brighton. This posed a problem,
as
his pockets were to let. He had a word with Lady Elizabeth before leaving.

“I had not planned to be away from Clareview,” he said, blushing. “I didn’t visit the bank before leaving London. I wonder if you could lend me a couple of pounds.”

This was no new thing with Willie Winston. He usually forgot to visit his bank, and forgot to repay his loans as well, but Aurelia had her heart set on the little trip, and since Nick would be busy, Lizzie was just as happy to have the girl out of the house. She seemed a restless little creature. Even, Lizzie
was coming to think, removing to the Dower House was not a bad idea. She gave Willie five pounds. He kissed her cheek and told her she was a darling.

He and Aurelia left early, promising to be home before dark. They spent a thoroughly enjoyable day, visiting the shops and buying a great many expensive items. The merchants made no demur when told to send the bill to Mr. Edward Townsend, and forward the merchandise to Clareview. Willie enjoyed having merchants fawn over him. It was an entirely new sensation. He steered her away from the gaudier items that attracted her. The pair of lamps with dangling crystals, he assured her, were so fine, they would make the rest of the Gold Saloon look shabby. The pair of French lamps with the Meissen painted bases were in better taste.

He had learned that the magic words
vulgar
and
in poor taste
worked like a charm with her. That she was refurbishing a house that did not belong to her to impress her relatives would be enough vulgarity and poor taste to cause dismay at Clareview. He was not responsible for Aurelia’s behavior, but the actual selections in some part reflected on him, and he valued his aesthetic reputation.

Willie could be charming when he set his mind to it. It did not bother him one whit that Aurelia was headstrong, vain, and vulgar. She was young and trainable. Over lunch, she confessed that Nick was being impossible. Willie encouraged her in her sentiment of being badly used.

“In a marriage, you should begin as you mean to go on,” he said in an avuncular way, filling her wineglass.

“That is exactly what Marie told me. I felt a little uncertain when I first arrived at Clareview, with so many strangers about, but now that they all like me, it is time to show my mettle. I daresay it was my agreeing to be married from Clareview that made Nick think I have no backbone. If he thinks to weasel out of the honeymoon in Paris, he is badly mistaken. Who is to say Wellington will still be there in the spring? I quite count on Wellington to be our sponsor into society.”

Willie did not think a distinguished colonel and Lord Goderich’s heir required a sponsor, but he did not say so. “Quite right, my dear. Nick does not really know how to treat a lady. He was too long in Spain. It was bound to cause a few rough edges. These gentlemen farmers, you know, care for nothing but cows and pigs.”

“Horrid smelly things. Why can they not just buy their mutton in a civilized way?”

“Have a little more of this asparagus.” He placed it tenderly on her plate. “As to the cows and pigs, you had best learn to love them. You will have uphill work getting Nick away from Clareview. Oh, I daresay he will take you to London for a week in the Season if you harp at him. Once you start your nursery, of course, it will be harder to get away.”

“A week! Why, he has a mansion on Grosvenor Square. Why should we not stay for the whole Season?”

“That is the busiest season on a farm.”

“I am beginning to hate Clareview,” she said. “And there is no hope of getting Nick away from it. When I suggested Papa would let him take over the new brewery in Kent, he ground his teeth. Really! He did not say much, but he ground his teeth. The brewery is to be at Chatham, close to London. Chatham is much livelier than Amberley. What a horrid place that is. Those miserable little shops. And one assembly a month, if you please! Who would there be to go
,
if they had one every night? There is no decent society there.”

She emptied her glass, and Willie filled it. “It is so good to have someone to talk to,” she said. “I had thought Jane might prove a friend, but really, you know, she is such a provincial. You must visit me long and often after I am married.”

This was a poor second best to marrying her, but it was not to be despised either. Willie was on close terms with many noble ladies. He was not entirely without principles. He truly thought Aurelia and Nick were a poor match. He, on the other hand, had not the least objection to marrying a pretty widgeon, nor to living in London—or Chatham, for that matter. He rubbed along well with the Huddlestons. A touch of vulgarity did not bother him, so long as it was monied vulgarity. He lent a touch of class to the nouveau riche. They liked being on terms with Sir William Winston, cousin of Lord Goderich and half a dozen other fine lords and ladies. Many a merchant’s wife sought his expertise in matters of furnishing her mansion or her country estate. It had become a profitable little business. The purveyors of furnishings, paintings, and carpets were happy to give him a bonus for directing his wealthy friends to them.

Willie studied her for a long, silent moment, his gaze lingering on her fine eyes, her delicate cheeks, her full lips, and sighed. “I only wish
...

“What?” she asked, with a questioning look.

“No, I cannot say it.”

Her expression heightened to eager anticipation. “You can tell me anything, Willie.”

“You are betrothed. It would be improper.”

She reached across the table and took his hands. “Dear Willie,” she said, with a smile that would have done credit to the tragic muse Mrs. Siddons. “I think I have an inkling of your meaning. Alas, it was not meant to be, but I will always remember this day. It has been special to me. Very unique.”

“And me, my dear Aurelia,” he said, wincing at that “very unique.”

She wiped a tear from her eyes.

“What a brute I am!” he said at once. “We must cheer you up. I have it! A new bonnet. We shall buy you a new bonnet, so that we have something to take back to Clareview, for the carpet and other things will not arrive until tomorrow.”

“Oh, you are thoughtful, Willie. I wager Nick would not have thought of that.”

“But first, some dessert. Sweets for the sweet.” God, had he really said that? “What do you say to the syllabub?”

She agreed, and had a plate of macaroons with it.

After they left the inn, Mr. Townsend had a charming bonnet put on his account. Willie counted up his change and decided he could afford a small sentimental token gift. He bought Aurelia a silk fan with a likeness of the prince’s pavilion painted on it, and bestowed it on her with all the passion at his command.

“I shall always cherish it as a momentum of this day,” she said.

Willie didn’t wince or correct her error.

“Let us go and have a look at the pavilion before leaving,” he suggested.

Fate was on his side. It never entered his head that the Prince Regent would be in Brighton in the middle of the winter. Even if he was, it was unlikely that he would brave the inclement weather, when he was such a devotee of a blazing fire. But Lady Hertford had come to Brighton to visit a sick friend, and it was not to be supposed that this formidable dame would let Prinny off the leash entirely. His carriage was coming down the drive as Willie and Aurelia stood gazing at the collection of domes, minarets, and finials that had added such a burden of taxes to the ratepayers of England. Willie thought its Oriental style looked particularly ludicrous when surrounded with snow.

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