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Authors: Mary Nichols

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BOOK: The Husband Season
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‘Mark told me.’

‘Oh, and what else did he tell you?’

‘That you have had a string of suitors who have all been rejected. I am curious as to the reason. You must be very hard to please.’

‘So my brother tells me, but I am not going to fall at the feet of the first man who offers for me...’

‘Nor the third either, it seems.’

‘No, I do not love any of them and they do not love me. Why they want to marry me I have no idea, but it is certainly not love.’

‘And is that important to you?’

‘Yes, it is. You loved your wife, didn’t you?’

‘Indeed I did.’

‘There you are, then. You understand me.’

‘I am trying. Tell me, if you had so lately turned down Sir Reginald Swayle, why did you consent to ride in his phaeton? I should like to think you were persuaded against your will.’

‘I was not persuaded against my will, my lord.’ It was said firmly, because it was the truth and she did not want him to think she was so easily coerced.

‘Oh. That sounded like a put-down.’

‘A put-down, my lord? I would never dream of trying anything like that on a superior being like yourself.’

He laughed. ‘Miss Cavenhurst, I think you are bamming me.’

She laughed, too. ‘That is for you to decide.’

‘Then I shall decide that a superior being like yourself would not be overawed by anyone, least of all me. You decide with whom you will ride and with whom you will dance and I am flattered that you consented to waltz with me. After all, I am older than Sir Reginald and almost as old as Lord Gorange.’

‘Ah, but you have not offered for me,’ she said.

‘True,’ he murmured.

She was becoming embarrassed by the way the conversation was going. As so often happened her tongue had run away with her, and she did not know how to turn it back to safer subjects. ‘Lord Gorange is a widower with two small children. I believe he is looking for a replacement wife, and that I will not be.’

Oh, dear, she was making things worse. She felt the colour flood into her face and would have stumbled if his firm grip had not held her upright.

‘If it helps, then be assured I am not looking for a replacement wife,’ he said. ‘No one can replace Anne. Not everyone comes to town to join the marriage mart, you know.’

‘No, of course not. I did not mean... I forgot...’ Her voice trailed away.

He smiled. ‘You are forgiven. No one could be at outs with you for long. Perhaps that is why your suitors are so persevering.’

He had deftly hauled her out of the pit into which she had fallen and for that she was grateful.

‘You have disposed of your three suitors,’ he went on. ‘What about the others, Mr Malthouse and Captain Moore?’

‘Vincent Malthouse is one of the silly ones, and as for Captain Moore, he may not be silly, but I cannot like him. I fear he is leading Teddy astray.’

‘You may be right. What can you do about it?’

‘Nothing. Teddy never listens to me. He grumbles that I want to spoil his fun.’

‘Brothers can sometimes be pests, can they not?’

‘Yes. Do you have brothers?’

‘I did have one, but he was killed at the Battle of Salamanca.’

‘I am so sorry. You seem to have had more than your share of bereavement.’

‘Yes, but we will not speak of it.’

‘I don’t mind you talking about it, if you want to. I am not a tattle-monger.’

‘No, I did not suppose you were. But we were talking about you.’

‘Were we? Then let us change the subject. Miss Malthouse has returned and is looking this way. Are you down to have another dance with her?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘But you are going to stay in town for her come-out ball, are you not?’

‘I have been invited. It is true. I assume you will be there?’

‘If I do not blot my copybook any more than I have already.’

‘Have you? Blotted your copybook, I mean.’

‘I am sure I have. Riding with Sir Reggie, for one thing—though there was a good reason for that—going out alone and allowing myself to be accosted by common soldiers, not to mention wearing this gown. There are probably more I do not even know about.’

‘What is wrong with the gown? It looks delightful to me.’

‘I am told I should not be wearing colours, since I am not officially out.’

‘Is that so? Do you care?’

She laughed. ‘Not a bit.’

The dance came to an end, he bowed, she bent her knee and he offered his arm to escort her back to Lady Cartrose.

* * *

Only later, lying sleepless in bed, did she begin to analyse their conversation, wonder what it was all about and how it made her feel. Mortified? Happy? Sad? Uncaring? Caring too much? She wasn’t at all sure.

He made her heart beat faster, even when he was teasing her, but fell short of her ideal on the grounds he was too old and a widower, but as he had never shown the slightest interest in her except to tease, she did not think she would be given the opportunity to turn him down, which, in some perverse way, made her wish for it. If anyone could rival Mark, he could. She gave herself a good talking to, thumped her pillow and lay down again, determined to put him out of her mind.

Chapter Five

S
ophie went with her aunt to visit Mrs Malthouse and Cassandra the next day to mull over the dance and comment on everything that had happened. Lady Martindale and Lucinda were there ahead of them. There was plenty to gossip about, but when they tired of that they began to look to the future. Cassie’s ball was still three weeks away and they needed something to fill in the time.

‘We could go to Ranelagh Gardens one evening when they have fireworks,’ Cassie suggested.

‘Or to Astley’s to see the performing animals and the wire walkers,’ Lucy added.

‘Bullock’s Museum is interesting, too,’ Lady Martindale put in. ‘And there’s
The Marriage of Figaro
at Covent Garden.’

‘But the weather is so lovely now, I would rather be out of doors,’ Sophie said.

‘In that case, what about a picnic?’ Mrs Malthouse said.

‘A picnic!’ Cassie clapped her hands. ‘What a splendid idea! Where shall we go and whom shall we invite? Do you think Viscount Kimberley would come?’

‘We will ask him, of course,’ her mother said. ‘But he may be otherwise engaged.’

‘And where will we go?’ Sophie asked.

‘Richmond Park is always pleasant at this time of year.’ Lady Cartrose was managing to keep up with the conversation by concentrating hard on whoever was speaking. ‘The men could ride and the ladies go in carriages.’

‘I would as soon ride,’ Sophie said. ‘Teddy will hire a mount for me.’

‘Do you think you can keep up?’ Mrs Malthouse asked Sophie. ‘It is several miles, you know.’

‘That is nothing. I am used to riding miles all over the countryside around Hadlea.’

‘I shall ask your brother what he thinks when I see him,’ her aunt said.

* * *

‘Oh, Sophie will be able to keep up,’ Teddy said later that day when Lady Cartrose told him about the outing and expressed her doubts about Sophie riding. ‘She is a natural in the saddle, better than her sisters and the equal of many men. I have no fear for her.’

‘Thank you, brother,’ Sophie said, giving him a beaming smile. ‘You will hire a decent mount for me, won’t you?’

‘Of course. And one for myself. I fancy a trip out of town.’

‘That will please Lucy,’ she said.

‘Lucy?’ he queried.

‘Oh, didn’t you know? She has a fancy for you. You could do worse, a lot worse.’

‘There is no call to be matchmaking, Sophie. I am not ready to be leg shackled yet.’

‘What a horrid expression,’ Lady Cartrose said. ‘So vulgar. I don’t know where you young men learn such things.’

‘Out and about, Aunt, out and about.’

‘What you need is a wife to instil some delicacy into you.’

‘All in good time,’ he said, laughing. ‘We will despatch Sophie first.’

* * *

The party that set off two mornings later in a cavalcade of carriages and riders including Viscount Kimberley, to Cassie’s intense delight, Vincent, Sir Reginald and Mr Richard Fanshawe, to Sophie’s dismay. Mr Fanshawe was a Norfolk friend of Lord and Lady Martindale, who had invited him to join them. He insisted on riding beside her, and what had been anticipated as a pleasurable ride was embarrassing and uncomfortable.

‘Mr Fanshawe, I am sure you would rather ride with the gentlemen,’ she said, falling back in the hope he would tire of her slow pace and leave her.

‘Not at all. Your company, Miss Cavenhurst, is all I want and need.’

‘I do not know why you are saying that. I made it quite clear, three months ago, that I do not wish to marry you.’

‘I know you did, but that was simply done out of convention. Young ladies are taught to say no on the first time of asking.’

‘I don’t know where you got that idea, but in my case you are under a misapprehension. I meant what I said.’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’ she repeated. ‘I do not think I am under any obligation to say why. But if it helps you to accept it, the reason is simply that I do not love you.’

‘Love! That is a greatly overrated emotion by young ladies who read too many romantic novels and think they reflect real life. I thought you to be more practical than that. It is better to be well suited and comfortable.’

‘Mr Fanshawe...’ she began, just as Sir Reginald rode up on her other side.

‘Sophie, I cannot let Dickie monopolise you. Pray, allow me to join you.’

‘Oh, Lord, give me patience,’ she said and kicked her horse into a trot. They both followed suit. Unable to shake them off, she cantered and then, in desperation, dug her heels in and galloped.

She knew galloping side-saddle on a strange horse on a busy road was a foolish thing to do, but she was angry. She managed to avoid a mail coach cantering into town to keep to its schedule and an elderly pedestrian who shook his stick at her before she noticed a side road and turned down that. Thinking she had shaken off the two men, she slowed to a trot, but she was wrong. They were not far behind her and shouting at her to stop. ‘You will end up in the river if you keep going like that,’ Reggie shouted.

She pulled up and turned to face them. ‘I am going back to the party,’ she said as haughtily as she could manage, considering she was out of breath. ‘I do not expect to find either of you beside me again unless I invite you. Is that understood?’

‘Perfectly,’ Reggie said. ‘But I was concerned for your safety and your reputation.’

‘My reputation! Who was it who tricked me into riding in that monstrous vehicle of yours? You were not too concerned for my reputation then.’

‘Ha!’ Richard said. ‘What do you say to that, Swayle?’

‘I say it is none of your business, Fanshawe.’

‘Miss Cavenhurst’s welfare is my business.’

‘And how, pray, can you say that? I have not heard of an engagement which might justify it.’

‘It is only a matter of time.’

Sophie had heard enough. ‘Will you both get it into your heads I am not considering either of you? I have refused your offers and will not change my mind. Now, excuse me.’

She moved past them and cantered back to the main road, but unfortunately the carriages had disappeared. All she saw was an empty road. She turned in what she considered the right direction, well aware that the two men were only yards behind her. Strangely enough she was comforted by their presence, so long as they stayed well back.

She rode on until she came to a fork in the road and then she stopped, unable to decide which way to go, and that allowed the men to catch up with her. Ignoring them, she took the left-hand fork on the assumption that she needed to head south, but kept a wary eye on them in case they chose the other route, which would mean she was wrong. Right or wrong, they followed her. Very soon she came to a wooden bridge over the river that she needed to cross and she had no money for the toll. She had left her reticule containing her purse and a few coins in Lady Cartrose’s carriage. The men were beside her again and soon realised her dilemma.

‘Allow me,’ Mr Fanshawe said, offering the toll man the money for them all.

She was obliged to thank him, and then all three crossed the bridge together. They were still together when they caught up with the rest of the party just short of the gate to the park.

‘Where have you been, Sophie?’ her aunt demanded, looking tellingly at her escorts. ‘We thought something bad had happened to you. And where is Edward?’

‘I took a wrong turn,’ she said. ‘I haven’t seen Teddy since we set out.’

‘He and Captain Moore went back to look for you.’

‘They must have missed me. Fortunately, Sir Reginald and Mr Fanshawe found me.’

‘Then let us carry on, and do stay beside the carriage now. I do not know what I would say to your parents if anything dreadful happened to you.’

Sophie was happy to obey. At least it would keep her two swains off her, but she was gloomily aware of the disapproving looks of the other ladies, and more than aware of the frown on the face of Viscount Kimberley. It seemed he was always to be witness to her humiliation and he was bound to add two and two and make five. Why that mattered, she would not admit.

* * *

Mr and Mrs Malthouse were riding in their barouche; their travelling coach had been sent on ahead with the servants and the food and several bottles of wine and cordial. When the cavalcade arrived, they had already selected a good spot beneath a tree and were busy unloading the hampers and laying out the picnic on a white tablecloth spread on the grass. Everyone dismounted and wandered about, stretching their legs.

‘What happened?’ Cassie demanded, coming across to Sophie. ‘Why did you ride off with those two?’ She nodded in the direction of Reggie and Richard, who were talking to Viscount Kimberley. Sophie wondered what they were saying to him and would dearly have liked to interrupt them, but decided she was in enough trouble without inviting more.

‘I did not ride off with them and nothing happened. I fell behind and took a wrong turn.’

‘Fell behind!’ Cassie laughed. ‘Was it some strategy to be alone with your
amour
?’

‘I was not alone.’

‘No, there were two of them. Really, Sophie, you are shocking, you know. I should never have dared.’

‘I didn’t ask them to follow me. In fact, I wish for nothing more than they should leave me alone. I am more than ever convinced there is something strange going on.’

‘They are after your fortune, perhaps.’

‘Fortune?’ Sophie repeated, mystified.

‘Why, yes. You said yourself you were wealthy.’

‘Did I?’

‘Yes, you said you could afford the best gowns and fripperies and do not need to stint, don’t you remember? And that habit you are wearing is certainly very fetching and must have cost a fortune.’

‘Oh, yes. But surely that is not reason enough...’

‘Of course it is. It is only men like Viscount Kimberley who are rich as Croesus who can afford not to consider it.’

She had forgotten that idle boast, but both men had been to Greystone Manor and must surely know her true circumstances. ‘There are other wealthy ladies,’ she said. ‘You, for instance, so why me?’

‘Who knows?’ Cassie shrugged. ‘Come, let us have some of Mama’s delicious picnic.’

Sophie followed Cassie to where the picnic was laid out. The older ladies were sitting in chairs, but everyone else was sprawled on the grass. Cassie managed to find a spot right next to the viscount and, as she had a firm hold on Sophie’s arm, Sophie found herself sitting on the ground uncomfortably close to him.

‘I hope you are none the worse for your adventure, Miss Cavenhurst?’ he said and though his tone was mild, she detected a certain measure of criticism.

‘It was not an adventure, my lord. I simply fell behind and took a wrong turn.’

‘And Sir Reginald and Mr Fanshawe were happily on hand to set you right.’

‘Yes, they were,’ she said sharply.

‘Tell me,’ he said, still in the same mild tone. ‘Why did you elect to ride and not travel in the carriage with your aunt?’

‘I wanted to ride,’ she said. ‘It is something I enjoy above all things, and I miss my daily rides around Hadlea.’

‘I see. And where is your brother? Should he not have stayed beside you?’

‘I have no idea where he is, my lord. My aunt said he had ridden back to look for me.’

‘Then, surely he should have returned before now.’

‘My lord,’ she said crossly, ‘I do not know why you are quizzing me. It is nothing to do with you what I or my brother do.’

‘No, thank goodness.’

Cassie was becoming frustrated at being ignored. She picked up a plate of tiny meat pies and held them out to Adam. ‘My lord, do have one of these pies, they are delicious. Our chef made them. He is a master chef, you know.’

‘No, I did not know,’ he said, taking one from the plate. ‘Thank you.’

‘How long will you be in London, my lord?’ Cassie asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

‘I am not sure, Miss Malthouse. It depends on many things, some of which I have no control over.’

‘Oh, you mean how many invitations you receive?’

He smiled. ‘I hadn’t thought of that, but if they are as delightful as the one I received for today, than I shall have to consider them.’

‘I know Mama would like you to come to my ball. It will be the last ball of the Season and will be a grand affair. Everyone of any note will be there. Say you will come. Your presence will make it even better.’

‘You flatter me, Miss Malthouse.’

‘Not at all. I shall be the envy of all my friends to have secured you first.’

He laughed. ‘Secured me, Miss Malthouse? That sounds as if you would have me in shackles.’

‘Oh, no,’ she said, blushing crimson. ‘I did not mean... Oh, dear... And you can stop laughing, Sophie Cavenhurst.’

‘Sorry,’ Sophie said, trying to keep a straight face. ‘But truly you asked for that.’

Adam was trying his best not to laugh, too, but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away. ‘I shall be honoured to be secured for your ball, Miss Malthouse,’ he said, picking up another of the little meat pies.

‘I shall go and tell Mama right away,’ Cassie said, scrambling to her feet, and added as Adam prepared to rise, too, ‘No, please do not get up, my lord.’ Then she fled.

‘I must go to her,’ Sophie said. ‘I am afraid our teasing has upset her, and I would not have that happen for worlds.’

‘Yes, do that. Please assure her I have not taken offence.’

Cassie had not gone to her mother, but wandered off a little way. Sophie went up to her and took her arm. ‘Cassie, you mustn’t mind his lordship, he was only teasing you.’

‘But you laughed.’

‘I am sorry. It was unkind of me. Will you forgive me?’

‘Yes, of course. I did not realise what I had said until he spoke. I never was so mortified in my life. Whatever must he think of me?’

‘He asked me to assure you he had taken no offence. I think he is sorry he was too quick to make the quip.’

‘You are so much more worldly wise than me, Sophie. You would not have made such a foolish mistake.’

‘Oh, I can make foolish mistakes, Cassie. Much worse ones than that,’ Sophie said, knowing how inaccurate Cassie’s statement was and anxious to make amends.

Cassie brightened. ‘Tell me.’

BOOK: The Husband Season
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