Teaching the Earl (3 page)

Elizabeth did not see them for the rest of the evening.

"Is that him? That one there?" Jane held back the drapes for a better view.

Elizabeth peered from the upper floor window. "No. He has darker hair than that. And he's taller.
And much more handsome."

"An earl.
How wonderful." Katherine picked up the fan her sister had used at Almacks, held her skirt out wide to one side, and twirled slowly in a solitary waltz.

"An excellent
catch, yes," said Mrs Cross, seeming complacent, but Elizabeth was not fooled. She knew her mother too well to miss the bright spots of color in her cheeks, or the way she kept smoothing the expensive lace that fell from her sleeves. Three times she had straightened the cap that sat in her curls, which had not once been crooked.

"That's so grand," said Jane.

"If you marry him you'll be a
countess
." Katherine lingered over the word as if it held magic.

"I can't imagine it. Not our Beth." Alice teased the kitten in her lap, not concerned by the threads his sharp claws pulled from the fabric of her pinafore.

"Why not?" said Katherine. "She'd be a beautiful countess. She'd make all the other countesses envious."

"Is
that
him?" asked Jane, and Elizabeth looked again.

"Yes," she said. Nerves fluttered deep in her stomach.

Katherine rushed to the window to peer out too, but he had already climbed the steps of their house and was out of sight. "Lady Carhampton. We'll all have to curtsy and bow and put you always at the head of the table, for you will outrank even Mama and Papa."

Elizabeth g
rinned. "But when we go out I’ll keep you always near me so you will meet the sons of marquises and dukes and marry them and have an even higher rank. Then you may be seated above me."

Alice only looked disdainful, but the older girls sighed in unison.

"Oh, won't that be perfect," Katherine said. "Only imagine it. You must marry him. You must."

"Certainly if she can bring him up to scratch, she will," said Mrs Cross.

"And if I love him," said Elizabeth.

"Yes, of course," said Mrs Cross with fond impatience. "But what is not to love? Look at him, so handsome, so exquisitely mannered."

"He is very cool," she answered, a little wistful. Yet perhaps he would warm, with time. His quiet smiles seemed promising.

"He is correct. Trust me, once he knows you are his he will be much more passionate. But that is the way of nobility. They must be even stricter than most to avoid raising false hopes. The fact that he calls on us like this means he is already half in love with you."

"Do you think so?" she asked. "I didn’t imagine him particularly captivated."

"What does a schoolroom miss know of such things? You are an innocent, and while that is a
very good thing to be, trust me to see the signs of a man transported with delight by a young woman. He will be as attentive a husband as you might wish for."

"Well certainly I will get t
o know him better, and then I’ll see-"

"Yes, yes, but let us put my pearls on you," Mrs Cross said, took her daughter's hand and tugged her up from the window seat, then unfastened the triple strand of pearls that were around her own neck, "for now I look at yours in this light, they are too insignificant. I'll put on my emeralds instead. It is a great pity you are not permitted to wear jewels, or I would send you out in my sapphires. They would make his jaw drop I'll warrant, be he the loftiest of earls."

"But that would be vulgar, Mama."

"Yes it would be, no need to remind me, you impertinent thing. I was only wishing we might put them on you, for they would bring out the
color of your eyes. Such pretty eyes, my chick."

"Thank you. Must I truly be laced so tight? I can barely breathe."

"You don't need to breathe. Just sit and look radiant and flutter your eyelashes at him, and I'll do the speaking."

"Lady
Carhampton," said Katherine again, sighing as if in love with the name itself. "Just imagine the dresses you'll wear."

"The furs and the jewels," added Jane.

Alice looked up from her kitten. "You'll meet the queen."

"
Meet
the queen?" scoffed Jane. "She will
dine
with the queen. After you, your majesty." She stood, curtsied grandly to Katherine and gestured with exaggerated courtly grace. Katherine lifted her nose and bosom high in the air and minced forward.

"May we come down to meet the earl too?" asked Alice.

"Certainly not!" Mrs Cross said. "You are to stay above stairs and I don’t want to hear a peep out of you."

"But Mama-"

"Don't 'Mama' me. This is too important to give him disgust for us through your rollicking ways. You will stay out of sight. Only after he is firmly married to your sister will he meet you, scallywags. Now be off, and give your sister and me a moment of peace."

With reluctant obedience they sauntered out, both Katherine and Jane catching Elizabeth's gaze with meaningful nods and wide-open eyes to indicate the importance of the proceedings, and their support.

When they were gone Mrs Cross turned to Elizabeth. "Now Beth, I want you to be calm and composed. No telling of funny stories, for we have no idea if he has a sense of humor. You will captivate him with your fine looks and femininity."

"Don't you think he should know what he's choosing?"

"No, no when courting it is always best to be cautious. Suitors may take the strangest things into dislike, imagining the little they know of you is your entire character. Best while they know so little to give them nothing to which they may object. They can find out more at leisure. It is a sort of joyous discovery. Let him look at you, and you look at him, and if you like the man you see - and I don't see how you can fail to, for he is very splendid - then you take him and be grateful."

"Perhaps it is Papa's money he wants."

"And so what if he considers that also? There is nothing wrong with being a sensible man. Not when you're such a darling, lovable girl he can't help but fall head over heels the moment he really knows you."

"Funny stories and all?"
Elizabeth asked sceptically.

"Funny stories in their place, at the right time.
You do have a very teasing way about you, and while that is charming among the family or our closest friends, another might be offended."

"It seems very hard to me, to pretend to be something I am not-"

"I never said pretend. I only said to be your calm self, and poised. You can do that for me and your father, can't you? It will be the very greatest triumph to him if the Earl declares for you. It will reward every good thing he has ever given you or done for you."

"Very well.
I'll do what I can. But you know I don't think it right to marry without love."

"Oh, you modern
misses. I declare we never thought of such things when I was a girl. Do not ask if you love him. Only ask if you
could
love him. And if you think the answer is yes, that is enough. When you are married, there is a lifetime for esteem to grow and flourish between you."

He was so proper, so polite and precisely
correct, it was difficult to decide if he was happy. His faint smile came and went but the skin around his eyes did not crinkle, though she watched him carefully. He said what he ought to Papa, and drew him out about the nature of his work and the manufactories. Papa was cagey of course. He did not wish to disgust his lofty visitor by glorying in his connection with trade.

Yet
Lord Carhampton was not put off, but nodded his head with civil interest, and directed the occasional comment to Mama to include her. To Elizabeth he said nothing as yet, though each time his eyes turned to her she felt his glance all through her body - a tightening, a drawing-in of breath and awareness. Did he like her? Did he admire her?

He must. His marked interest in coming here like this - by appointment to be certain they were at home for his call - was unmistakable. One only needed to look at Mama - waving her fan too rapidly, halting herself, closing it to lay it in her lap, only to pick it up a moment later and start once more waving it madly - to know she was in a fever of excitement and trying vainly to conceal it.

Papa too sat very straight, very still, and wore his best morning waistcoat, splendidly embroidered but in the most subtle shading.

'Good taste is a matter of expense, not ostentation,' he had explained to her once when she was disappointed at the drab
colors he chose. 'Old money can afford to play the foolish dandy and prance about like a peacock if it chooses. New money must be staid and sober and genteel, or it will be shut out altogether. We may have all the funds in the world, but if we wish to rise in stature, we must play the game carefully. You and your sisters to marry well, your brothers into noble professions, and once your dowries are all settled I shall look about me for a great estate not far from London. Landed gentry is what our family shall become, and with enough wealth soon it shall be forgotten how it smells of the shop.'

He must be correct, for here was an earl condescending to call on them, which could only be for her sake.
Which could only mean marriage.

An earl.
Marriage. If she thought of it too hard it made her head spin.

All too easy to be caught in the thrill of it.
Could she love him, though? Such a romantic figure, sorrow in his heart but noble forbearance on his brow, handsome and courteous.

He had called her pretty.

Yes, she thought she could love him, could be a comfort and support to him, a companion and friend. If she could not quite imagine sitting with her embroidery by the fire while he read to her from the newspaper - as Papa and Mama liked to do - still there would be things earls enjoyed doing with their countesses that he could teach her. Perhaps he would prefer balls and routs and levees. She might even have to host them, and then she could show off Katherine and Jane, and Alice too in time, and they would find good husbands and everyone would be so happy.

Papa would be so proud to see her made a countess. He would squeeze her hand and look into her eyes with that special, loving glow that said he was enormously pleased with her, as he sometimes did when she had painted a particularly good
watercolor fit for hanging on the wall, or sang for guests who applauded and congratulated the Crosses on having such an accomplished daughter.

She would be presented at court in a gorgeous gown, and perhaps other countesses would invite her to come to tea - but no, that was a frightening thought. What would she have to talk of
to countesses? Lord Carhampton would have to teach her that, too.

His love for
her would make him very patient; the best of teachers.

"Perhaps I might speak to you alone for a time, Mr Cross?" said
Lord Carhampton, and Mama sucked in a breath that was almost a gasp, and stood, a flick of her hand calling Elizabeth to her feet also. They all bowed, curtsied, bid
adieu
, and Mama led Elizabeth from the room with a hand holding hers, gripping it so tightly it almost hurt.

Mama shut the double doors of the drawing room, forgetting the footman who stood there to do it, and
bustled her away into the library across the hall. She slammed those doors behind them.

"Oh, my dear," she exclaimed, and her hands went to her cheeks as she strode away, spun and came back, only to pivot and stride away again.
"My dear. Oh!" She came to a halt in the center of the carpet, and shook her hands back and forth in front of her chest.

"Mama, what is it?"

"He is asking permission of your father," Mama whispered over tears. "A
countess
. Oh, that I should live to see the day. My own sweet girl a countess." She came back, took one of Elizabeth's hands in hers, put her other hand on her daughter's cheek. "My dear, my very dear girl. He must have fallen head over heels in love with you the instant he saw you. And no wonder. I always said you were the prettiest of creatures. You have captivated him. Clever, clever girl."

Elizabeth's eyes went very round. "He is?
Really? Are you sure?"

"Nothing else could make him ask for privacy in that way. He will ask permission to address you, and they will speak of your dowry, and how much
Lord Carhampton will settle on you, and all the terms of your marriage, and then-" Mama's voice broke, and she fished a lacy handkerchief from her sleeve and pressed it to her nostrils, "then he will propose."

"Good heavens," said Elizabeth, astounded anew. Not just supposition, but reality. He loved her. He wanted her as his countess. "What do I say?"

"It depends on how he asks it, of course. You must answer his specific words. Usually a man will say 'will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?' or perhaps 'you would make me the happiest of men if you would become my wife.' Then you may say either 'It is I who would be honored,' or 'You make me a very great compliment. I accept.' And you will look at him meltingly, so he feels you hold his heart with tenderness and true regard."