Lucy Muir (18 page)

“Your affections
are
engaged, Lieutenant Halcott?” Anne queried. “This is not some quixotic gesture to save a young girl’s honour?”

“No, Miss Southwell,” he assured her. “My parents have known of my intentions for some time, and approve. They also concur that I should make my offer now. If it is seen that I offer for Melissa, many will realise that she is innocent of any improper behaviour. There will always be some who doubt, but enough will be convinced.”

Anne looked at the lieutenant searchingly and he gazed back at her, his brown eyes unflinching. His sincerity was apparent, and Anne felt a great load lift from her conscience. The lieutenant would make a good husband for Melissa. He was young but steady and reliable, and it was evident he did care deeply for Melissa.

“Then it only remains for me to tell you that Melissa’s dowry is two thousand pounds, and that I give you permission to speak to her. I am sure she is waiting anxiously. Please rejoin her in the morning room.”

Lieutenant Halcott thanked Anne warmly and immediately departed to the morning room without waiting for Benton to escort him.

Anne remained in the drawing room, feeling much heartened. Melissa would not suffer for things that were none of her doing. The only difficulty would be to come up with two thousand pounds from her own funds, since she had had to return the two thousand from Lord Stanton. She could do it if she went back to Medford soon and lived very quietly. She was contemplating a return to the quiet village life when Benton announced another visitor.

“Lord Millbank.”

Lord Millbank entered, splendidly appareled in a wasp-waisted pea-green coat, yellow pantaloons, a striped waistcoat and a bright blue neckcloth that was a marvel of starch and intricate knots.

Anne appreciated the show of support he was making by calling upon her after her disgrace and welcomed him warmly. To her surprise, he seemed to have lost his studied attitude of ennui, and appeared nervous, toying with the chains hanging from his waistcoat, and even disarranging his immaculate neckcloth, pulling at it in a distracted manner. Suddenly, to her surprise, he lowered himself to his knees and caught her hand.

“Miss Southwell. You must be aware of the high regard in which I hold you. I would be pleased if you would do me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage,” he said, placing a kiss upon her hand.

Anne was caught completely off guard by the proposal, and looked at Lord Millbank in astonishment. She was also deeply touched, for she knew that her disgrace in the eyes of Society would be hard for Lord Millbank to bear. She withdrew her hand from his slowly and begged him to rise.

“Lord Millbank, I am deeply honoured, more than I could ever express, but I cannot accept.”

She thought she caught a glimmer of relief in his eyes as he rose from his position on the floor, but he still protested.

“Please consider it seriously, Miss Southwell. You need someone to protect your name. Think we’d suit admirably. You have an eye for colour that is rare in a female.”

Anne smiled in spite of herself. “Thank you, Lord Millbank, but I must tell you that my heart is already engaged. If it were not for that I should be most pleased to accept your flattering offer.”

Lord Millbank accepted her refusal gracefully. “Hope we will remain friends,” he said. “M’sister and I shall call later.”

He lifted Anne’s hand to his lips, bowed over it elegantly and took his leave. Anne noted with amusement that he strutted more than ever when he left, evidently proud of his chivalrous attempt to save her good name.

As soon as Lord Millbank departed, Melissa came into the drawing room, her whole being glowing, greatly transformed from the miserable girl of that morning.

“Anne, I’m so happy. You were correct; Stephen did not believe the rumours. He says they will die down soon and will not affect us, anyway, as his regiment will be going to Brighton. What was Lord Millbank doing here so early?” she added, curious.

Anne smiled at her. “It seems this is a morning for proposals. He made me an offer.”

“Did you accept?” asked Melissa, looking surprised.

“No. Although I thought more of him than I ever have. He has a depth I did not suspect.”

Melissa agreed it had been a chivalrous gesture, wishing for a moment that Anne had accepted, for that would have made her best friend Amelia a close connexion, and then her attention returned to her own happiness.

“We should like to be married the first of next month, before Stephen’s regiment leaves. Could it be managed? Stephen says his mother will help.”

Anne, amused by Melissa’s repeated use of Lieutenant Halcott’s baptismal name, assured her ward they would manage, and Melissa left the room on a cloud, anxious to tell her Sandy of her happiness.

Anne retreated to her desk to begin planning. If the wedding was going to be so soon she would have to get busy. She was working on a list of things to be done when Benton came to the door, a fierce glare on his young face. He had not yet mastered the impassivity required in a butler’s facial expression.

“Lord Stanton,” he said, looking as though he would rather remove the caller forcibly from the premises than announce him. The servants knew of their mistress’s fall from grace, and had no good feelings towards the cause of it.

Anne rose from her chair in shock. What was Lord Stanton doing here? She could not control the leap of her heart as she saw him, but it quickly subsided when she saw the bleak look in his eyes. He was impeccably clad as always, in a blue coat, buff pantaloons and waistcoat, white cravat, and black hair
a la
Titus, but his sartorial perfection was somehow off-putting. The marquess greeted her stiffly and stood in the middle of the room.

“Miss Southwell, I came to assure you I had nothing to do with the story of your stay at Longworth becoming known, and to make what reparation I can by offering you the protection of my name. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

Anne remained frozen, standing before her chair. Here, then, was the offer she had dreamed of receiving in the secret corners of her heart. Yet it was nothing like she had imagined. This Lord Stanton was a stranger, stiff and formal. It was obvious he made the offer not from any regard for her but from the same notion of chivalry that had inspired Lord Millbank. Only Lord Millbank’s offer had been much more gracious, she thought angrily.

“Thank you, my lord, for your generosity, but there is no need,” she said coldly. “Lieutenant Halcott has made an offer for Melissa this morning, so you see her reputation is safe, and for mine I care nothing.”

“I see,” said Lord Stanton, his voice becoming more austere. “But although you don’t care at this moment you may in the future. It will be unlikely that anyone will ever offer for you now, believing you have been my mistress.”

Anne felt that his words were insulting and was tempted to tell him of Lord Millbank’s offer but refrained. She could not cheapen Lord Millbank’s honest offer by using it to taunt Lord Stanton.

“I do not mind,” she repeated. “I have no desire ever to marry.’’

Lord Stanton looked for a moment as though he would say more, but did not. Anne remained standing before her chair, her back stiff with pride and her head held high. Lord Stanton bowed rigidly and took his leave without another word.

Anne sat down slowly, wondering if she had done the right thing. There was a time, that night at Lady Brookfield’s, that she had thought to have any part of Lord Stanton was better than none. But now she felt the opposite. If she were to marry him without his love and he took a mistress, she would not be able to bear it. It would be better to have none of him than to share him.

Anne attempted to work on her list again, but found that the confrontation with Lord Stanton had shattered her ability to concentrate. She decided to find Melissa. Perhaps some of Melissa’s joy would take her mind off her own unhappiness.

* * * *

After leaving Anne’s house, Lord Stanton instructed his groom to take the curricle back, and walked home, hoping to walk off some of his anger. Anne Southwell had refused him. He, the Marquess of Talford, owner of a fortune and Longworth, a sought-after catch for over twenty years, had been refused by a disgraced spinster from a country village. It was unthinkable. Arriving at his town house, he thrust his hat and stick at his butler and gave the order for a bottle of claret to be taken to the library.

When Jessup came with the bottle, Lord Stanton instructed that he was not to be disturbed under any circumstances for the rest of the day. He slouched down into his favourite chair, a full glass of claret in his hand, and thought over the day’s happenings. Not until he had heard the stories about Anne last night had he realised the depth of his feelings for Miss Southwell. He had immediately determined to offer for her and had gone to do so as soon as he could this morning. He had been nervous but confident. He had not expected a refusal. It was true he had thought she might demur at first but agree in the end that it was the only thing to be done. Then, safely married, he could have wooed her and won her love. He knew Anne felt a strong physical attraction for him, and that would have been a good start. But she had refused. Why? It could only be that, despite her physical attraction to him, she found him repugnant because of his reputation. He was trying to think of any other possible reasons for the refusal when his butler entered the room.

“What’s this, Jessup? I gave orders I was not to be disturbed.”

“Please, your lordship,” explained Jessup. “There is a gentleman below, a Captain Leslie, who refuses to leave and says he will wait as long as necessary to speak with you.”

Captain Leslie, thought Lord Stanton. He was the army officer always hanging about Anne. No doubt he had come to issue him a challenge. Well, he couldn’t fault him for that.

“Very well, let him come up.”

Jessup returned shortly, followed by Captain Leslie, who stood stiffly before Lord Stanton’s chair. The marquess did not rise.

“Have you come to call me out, Captain?” he asked. “Before you do that I should tell you that I offered for Miss Southwell this morning and she turned me down. Surely honour has been satisfied?”

Captain Leslie did not pretend not to understand.

“I see. Then I have come upon a useless errand.”

“No, Captain, I respect you for your care of Miss Southwell’s name. Although I would like to know by what right you take the defence of Miss Southwell’s reputation upon yourself,” he said, straightening in his chair, a glower upon his face.

“The right of any gentleman who hears the name of a lady maligned.”

“Quite right,” Lord Stanton answered, falling back into his chair. Captain Leslie came to defend Anne as a gentleman, not as her betrothed. “Do not worry. She will come about somehow and do quite well without us both, I have no doubt.’’ He looked at Captain Leslie perceptively. “It seems we have something in common. Join me in a drink?”

Captain Leslie viewed Lord Stanton with a mixture of pity and envy. His guess as to who was the “other” who held Anne’s affections had evidently been correct. He wondered why she had refused him. “No, thank you, my lord,” he said, turning to leave. “My errand is finished.”

Lord Stanton looked after Captain Leslie as he departed, feeling fractionally better. It was obvious Anne had not accepted the captain’s hand, either. But what were her reasons? Did she truly not desire ever to marry? He was mulling over the problem when he heard the door open again.

“Damn it, I said I was not to be disturbed, Jessup.”

“Jessup knows better than to try and refuse me,” answered his sister, coming in and closing the door behind her. She stood before her brother in the place recently occupied by Captain Leslie, looking down at him with disapproval. “It is time you told me everything.”

Lord Stanton did not argue, but wearily motioned for her to be seated. Fortifying himself with another drink, he told her the whole, including his offer that morning and Anne’s rejection of it. Lady Brookfield listened in astonishment, then with growing satisfaction. She could see, if her brother could not, that Miss Southwell had a deep feeling for him.

“Go ahead, ring a peal over me and then leave,” Lord Stanton said ungraciously as he finished his recital.

“It would appear there is no need. Although I am appalled that even you would enter upon such a reprehensive wager with an unmarried woman of gentle blood,” she added, unable to resist giving her brother a mild dressing-down. “But it is obvious you are not in a condition to benefit from my advice at this time.”

Her scolding was interrupted by the arrival of Jessup. Lord Stanton raised his eyebrows sardonically.

“I
am
losing my touch. A woman refuses my hand, and now my servants won’t obey me.”

“It is from the Prince, your lordship,” explained Jessup, holding out a silver salver with a note upon it.

Lord Stanton opened it resignedly. “Prinny is commanding my immediate attendance at Carlton House. I suppose I must go. Excuse me, Caroline,” he said, pushing himself up from his chair. “Jessup, find Lewis and have him come try to make something of my attire.”

* * * *

“I was most displeased to hear the
on dits
about Miss Southwell and Miss Amberly, Stanton,” reproved the Prince of Wales, a severe expression upon his face.

Lord Stanton knew from the fact that he was left standing in the Prince’s presence and that he was not offered refreshment that Prinny was indeed most displeased with him.

“You will make an offer to Miss Southwell immediately,” the Prince commanded.

“I already did so, sir,” Lord Stanton replied. “She refused me.”

“Refused you, eh?” The Prince looked surprised. Stanton was generally considered a good catch, despite his reputation.

“Refused me. Not even to save her own reputation would Miss Southwell contemplate an alliance with ‘Hell-born Harry,” Lord Stanton finished bitterly.

The Prince looked at Lord Stanton with sudden understanding.

“So that’s it. Sit down, Stanton,” he said, motioning to a chair, his geniality returning.