Love Engineered (10 page)

“Then there was Mr Lee. I had only known him a week. He was handsome and charming, but far too reckless. Father would never have approved.”

“Weren't you the smallest bit tempted?”

“Oh Lord no! Certainly not. He was a gambler.”

Lucy opened her mouth and was about to speak, but was stopped by Louise as she continued on.

“Then there was Mr Dupont. He was one of my tutors. Frenchman. I was only fifteen when he proposed. As soon as I told father, he sent him away that instant. Father wouldn't let the poor man pack his clothes. He was escorted off the estate and onto a train and his belongings were sent on afterwards. He wrote to me a few weeks later telling me how much he loved me, but again, after I showed the letter to father, I never received another one. I would like to know what father did to stop him writing again, but alas he never did tell me.”

Louise gazed out of the window. She rather wondered why, if Mr Dupont had loved her, he hadn’t contacted her after her father’s death. She really did wonder what had happened to the man. Perhaps it was better not to know.

“Then there was Mr Gaffney. My goodness, I cannot but help laughing when I think of him!” It was a few moments before she could control her laughter.

“Whatever did he do that was so amusing?”

“Well,” Louise said, stifling giggles. “He proposed to me the first time he met me. It was at an assembly in London. Horrible place, the music was dreadful, the refreshments were dire and there were too many drunken men and it was so hot! I was there with my cousin, Lord Philip, and a few other acquaintances. It was Philip's idea to go. He seems to like these things. After I had been introduced to Mr Gaffney he cornered me near the refreshments and proposed there and then!”

“My goodness, that is rather odd. Why ever did he propose so quickly?”

“For my inheritance, of course. I tried not to laugh at him, even if he was blatantly mercenary.”

“So it wasn't love at first sight then?”

“Certainly not. He was obnoxious. Thought he would be doing me the favour by marrying me. The impudence of it.”

They sat for a while in silent contemplation.

“Father always used to tell me I could marry any man I chose,” Louise remarked after some time.

“What? Any man?”

“Well those who were not married already!” Her face grew more serious, and she placed her teacup down. “He used to tell me that I was lucky to be able to choose and that most women had to accept whoever made them an offer, whatever their sentiments.”

“I hope I won't have to do that,” Lucy said, with a sad look in her eye.

“I'm sure you won't my dear. I'm sure you won't. You have so many excellent qualities that Mr Francis will have to stand behind all the other gentlemen who will ask for your hand.”

“But don't you find it difficult to know if a gentleman loves you and doesn't want to marry you for the money?”

“It's the primary concern to me whenever I meet a gentleman for the first time. But you know there are plenty of them who are wealthier than me. They'd better watch out!”

Lucy looked unsure whether to take Louise seriously. “I would have thought that the ideal husband for you would be someone who didn't know you were rich or owned an estate. He would love you without knowing about it.” She looked pleased at her analysis. “You could pretend to be poor and when a gentleman falls in love with you you'll know for sure that he wants you and not the money! Or better still, so that you do not have to pretend to be someone else, a gentleman who wasn't interested in your inheritance at all. But is there such a man?”

“I'm sure there is somewhere,” Louise said. The conversation was starting to be a revelation to her. There was one man who seemed uninterested in her estate. She pushed him from her mind for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

“Do you think a gentleman could possibly not be interested in my money?” Louise asked. But it was more a question to herself. For what would a nineteen-year-old girl know of it?

A gentleman who wasn't interested in my inheritance.

The words hung over her. She knew Mr Lucas enough to realise that his heart and soul lay in his work, in his bridge designs, his tunnels and his other engineering feats. This was the age of engineering and he was at the centre of it. What interest would he have in a country estate?

She no longer made herself push the thought of him aside as she had been desperately doing since she returned to Devon. She allowed her mind to linger on all she knew of him, both from her own experience and from what she knew of his dealings with Robert Adams.

He was handsome – to her at least. Not classically so, but she never did find ordinary looks appealing. He cared for his sister and mother in a most attentive way. Jane had revealed that he often worked long hours and therefore certain weeks she didn't see him much. But when he was at home, he was always the kindest, most thoughtful brother. If she wanted justification for her growing adoration then this only fueled it.

To break from these ruminations she suddenly said, “Lucy, you must not get your hopes up with Mr Francis.”

Lucy looked up at her, her blue eyes wide with longing. She quickly added, “What I mean is, you must remember that a man like Mr Francis must have employment before he could take a wife.”

“I see what you mean,” Lucy said, with a note of sadness in her voice.

Louise took hold of her hand. “But I'm sure that once he has these prospects, he will not hesitate to secure your affections. Besides, he may propose and you will have to be engaged until he has such a position. I have known several couples come to an understanding even though material circumstances have been against them for some time.”

“I hope he finds something soon.”

“I'm sure he will, I'm sure he will.”

It was a few weeks since Charles had met with William Risinger that first time, and though they had met a number of times since, Charles had forgotten his promise to himself to find out the circumstances behind the breakdown of Miss Thomas's friendship with his friend. The everyday stresses and pressure of his work pushed all such thoughts from his mind and it wasn't in his nature to linger on trivial matters. But his curiosity was roused once more when he saw Risinger sitting in a large comfortable chair near the window one evening at Perrivale's coffee house.

Risinger looked up and cast aside his newspaper. “Charles!” he stood up and shook his hand. “Won't you join me?”

Charles sat down.

“If I look a little more tired than usual,” Risinger said. “It's because I have been making arrangements. I'm emigrating to America.”

Charles's eyebrow's rose. “Really? When do you leave?”

“Well, I thought I may go in about six months. I have some personal matters to take care of and friends to take leave of. I think once I'm gone I shall never return,” he said with a sigh.

“You do not wish to go?”

“Well, there is not much for me here in England.” He paused for a moment. “Certain people have made sure that I do not have many prospects here.”

“Really? Who?” Charles sat forward.

Risinger looked away for a brief moment, as though deciding whether or not to say anything. His mouth formed the words, “Miss Louise Thomas.” He paused after he said the words and then in a louder voice asked, “Do you know if she is in London at the moment?”

Charles frowned. “No, I don't think she is. Why do you ask?”

“Only that since I'm not her most popular person I would very much like to stay out of her way.”

“Surely it cannot be that bad?”

“It's more me than her. Things might get a bit heated if we met and I'd tell her exactly what I thought of her.”

Charles was about to ask what the problem was when they were interrupted by one of the waiters, who approached to tell Mr Lucas that his sister was waiting for him outside.

“Well then, Risinger, you must come and meet my sister Jane. I'm sure you will like her.”

Risinger smiled. “Of course, it would be an honour.”

They both made their way out of the coffee house to find Jane standing just outside. The introduction was made and Charles noticed that Risinger seemed as affable as ever. He had an easy way of conversing with people, but especially with women.

“What do you think of Mr Risinger?” her brother asked once they parted.

“He seemed a pleasant enough man,” Jane said nonchalantly, but she offered no further comment.

“Is that all you have to say?” He glanced at her face to try and read her expression.

“Yes. I don't remember him much, but I think I will have to meet him a little more if I'm to give you an informed opinion. But straight away I could tell he was a ladies’ man.”

Charles burst out laughing.

“What is so amusing?”

“Risinger, a ladies' man? At school he was always the biggest oaf with girls. Not that we met many.”

“People change, Charles. And he seemed to be the kind of man who was used to putting an act on in front of a woman.” She grabbed his arm. “Forgive me, I don’t mean to be mean about a friend of yours. But you always like honesty. I will endeavour to like him.”

Charles contented himself with that.

. . .

It was a few months later, in March, when Louise returned to London. Many of her friends would be in town, but there was one family in particular which drew her. She spent the time leading up to her visit giving in to those feelings that she tried to drive away and now, one last attempt was to be made. She was determined to see Mr Lucas again and let her heart decide if what she felt was love or simply a passing fancy. She had little to compare her feelings to, because she had never felt herself to be in love before. During her time away she was in constant correspondence with Jane, and had been called upon to explain her continued absence from London more than once.

She left behind a distraught Lucy. The girl hadn't received an offer from Mr Francis and he had left Devon a few days before. Louise was rather relieved to go to town because she didn't know if she could cope with her friend's anguish any longer. Lucy had turned up at Glazebrook several times in tears and asked for advice. Louise, although sympathetic, grew weary. She wasn't the best person to ask about such matters and did not have inclination to tend to a young broken heart. Generally though, when she wasn't thinking about Mr Francis, Lucy was improving in maturity. Louise discovered the girl had a talent not only for painting, but for writing poetry, and the two had spent many an afternoon discussing the latest works.

Lucy had to content herself with the thought that Mr Francis had promised to write to her, although Louise wasn't so optimistic. Mr Francis was a young man with no ties and who needed employment. She knew it was unlikely he would find time to write or that he would be inclined to do so. She didn't mention her doubts to Lucy.

So, Louise sat happily with Jane in London. They sipped tea, and talked over the last few days. Both ladies enjoyed being back in each other's company even during those moments when they had nothing to say. Louise hadn't seen Mr Lucas yet and eagerly anticipated a meeting. She would know the instant she saw him if her heart had been won over as she believed.

“When did you say your mother would return from Bath?” Louise asked.

“Next week. Have you ever been?”

“Yes, a few times. I have taken the water too; such an odd taste! I can't say it did me any good, but then I was lucky not to have any ailment at the time.”

They were interrupted by the sound of someone approaching. The door opened and Charles entered. The moment she had been waiting for had arrived. He greeted Louise with a small bow. She knew the instant she saw him.

She loved him.

She barely knew him, and she had only spoken three words to him for months, but she knew it the instant she laid eyes on him.

While these revelations pulsed through her, Louise barely noticed that another man had entered the room behind. Louise looked up to greet the man, paused, then withdrew her outstretched hand.

It took a moment for Louise and Mr Risinger to realise they were in each other's company. Their eyes met and then instantly looked away. Louise clutched the arm of the chair, uncertain what to do.

Risinger swallowed hard, then turned away and looked out of the window.

Apparently oblivious, Jane stood and rang the bell for more tea, but unable to bear being in the same room as William Risinger, Louise stood up and hurried out of the room.

Jane, having seen her leave, followed her into the hallway.

She put her arm around her. “Are you unwell?”

“Yes. No. I – er. I feel ill and I must leave immediately. Would you be so good as to call me a cab?” She placed her arm against the wall for support. Her face felt hot and she felt nauseous.

“Of course,” Jane said sympathetically. “Will you not come into the study and sit quietly while I arrange it? I will take you there.” It was a command more than a question and Louise didn't argue. Jane took her arm and led her the short distance to the study and seated her in one of the lounge chairs near the fireplace.

Jane left the room and Louise panicked for a moment. What if Risinger came in? The few minutes before Jane returned felt like hours. When she did, she was holding both their bonnets and cloaks.

“Come my dear, the cab is waiting.”

Jane led her outside. The short journey was over quickly and Jane tended to her friend when they reached her home. Louise's maid indicated those home comforts that she found advantageous. Jane left half an hour later, after Louise insisted that she was feeling better and would prefer to sleep for a while.

When Jane returned, she found Charles alone.

“How was Miss Thomas?” he asked with a distinct note of disgust in his voice.

“A little improved. I cannot say what ailed her, but I think she will be better shortly.”

Jane gazed at her brother. His scowl betrayed a certain amount of anger that had brewed for the last few hours.

“I should sooner have worried about Mr Risinger. He was shocked that Miss Thomas was here.”

“Why?” Jane asked. “She is my friend. Why should she not be here?”