Читать книгу A Marriageable Miss - Dorothy Elbury - Страница 12

Lottie was almost beside herself with a combination of worry and impatience. She had been standing at the window for almost half an hour and when, at last, Markfield’s carriage hove into view, she was out of the morning room and down the stairs in a trice, all agog to learn how Helena had fared at the hands of the imperious Lady Isobel Standish.

Reaching the hallway just as Hayward opened the front door, however, she perceived that Lord Markfield, having brought Helena to the doorstep, was now in the process of saying his fare-wells. Uncomfortably aware that any overly inquisitive behaviour on her part would meet with her cousin’s disapproval, Lottie quickly withdrew from their line of vision but, since her curiosity was by this time almost at bursting point, she found that, by straining her ears, she was just able to catch the earl’s words.

‘I must thank you again for exercising such admirable self-restraint, Miss Wheatley,’ he was saying. ‘I fear that my grandmother can be—how shall I put it?—a little overbearing at times. I trust that she has not caused you to have second thoughts about our agreement?’

‘Not at all, sir,’ came Helena’s reply. ‘You must allow me to disabuse you of such a notion. I have every reason to believe that the countess and I came to understand one another perfectly well.’

‘In that case, may I take it that you are not averse to attending this soirée she has suggested on Friday?’

‘But, of course,’ returned Helena evenly. ‘If her ladyship truly believes that she will have no difficulty in procuring so many guests at such short notice, then it is hardly for me to cry craven.’

‘You continue to surprise me, Miss Wheatley,’ said Richard, a slight smile playing about his lips as he executed a bow and turned to leave. ‘With your permission, then, I shall call for you at eight.’

Realising that her cousin was shortly about to make her entrance, Lottie turned tail and hurried back up to the morning room where, picking up the book that she had recently discarded, she resumed her seat in an attempt to give even the most critical observer the impression that she had been involved in that activity for quite some time. She was, however, considerably taken aback when, just a few short minutes later, Helena opened the door and, with barely a glance in her cousin’s direction, made straight for the window, clearly intent upon catching a glimpse of Markfield’s departing carriage!

‘His lordship appears to have made a considerable impression on you,’ she observed wryly, laying her book aside. ‘May I assume that your visit could be deemed to have been something of a success?’

Suddenly conscious of her extraordinary actions, Helena turned briskly away from the window only to find herself facing a somewhat speculative expression in her cousin’s eyes.

‘As a matter of fact,’ she replied defensively, as a becoming flush suffused her cheeks, ‘it actually turned out to be a good deal more interesting than I had expected.’

Lottie’s face lit up. ‘How so?’ she demanded eagerly. ‘You were gone such an age that I began to fear they had abducted you for some huge ransom!’

Helena laughed. ‘Silly goose! It is clear that you read far too many inferior novels,’ she said, as after peeling off her gloves she made for the door. ‘But I promise that I shall tell you everything as soon as I have been in to see Papa—he will be anxious to know how I got on.’

‘You had best not go in to him just at the moment,’ her cousin advised her worriedly. ‘I peeped in only a short while ago and he was fast asleep. Digby has spent most of the afternoon trying to keep him calm. Uncle Giles is so very keen that this Markfield fellow should come up to scratch, Nell, that I fear you will be hard pressed to persuade him that he has any unacceptable failings.’

‘I rather doubt that he has,’ murmured Helena absently, but then, as she registered the attentive gleam in her cousin’s eyes, she collected herself and added hurriedly, ‘But none of that matters for the present. His lordship has already given me his promise that he will go along with the scheme and his grandmama also seems to have entered into the spirit of the thing most enthusiastically!’

She then proceeded to describe the more salient details of her interview with Lady Isobel, causing Lottie to express, in turns, various degrees of dismay, affront and amazement at the countess’s high-handed treatment of her beloved Helena.

‘You are so brave, Nell!’ she breathed, when her cousin had finished. ‘I could not have borne to have been spoken to in such a way! She sounds the most awful harridan!’ A sudden thought struck her and she paled. ‘I suppose I shall have to meet her if I am to accompany you on any future visits!’

Helena let out a little chuckle. ‘Oh, come now, Lottie,’ she cried. ‘You only have to call to mind old Mrs Pettigrew in your village! You remember how she always tries to mortify everyone with her overbearing behaviour, while you and I both know that, at heart, she would really like to make friends, but simply doesn’t know how to set about it. Look how quickly she came round when we offered to exercise her dog when she was laid up with the gout. In my opinion, her ladyship is merely a rather grander version of our Mrs Pettigrew!’

Lottie looked bewildered. ‘But the countess must have loads of friends if she is going to invite them all to this party of hers!’

‘Plenty of acquaintances, no doubt,’ replied Helena, with a decisive nod. ‘And hangers-on, too, probably, but I take leave to dispute that many of them are actual friends! As a matter of fact, the countess struck me as being rather a lonely old soul. Once you get past her hoity-toity grand manner, you will find that she is very little different from the likes of Mrs Pettigrew.’

‘If you say so,’ said Lottie, not at all convinced by her cousin’s argument, but then, changing the subject, she asked anxiously, ‘Am I to accompany you on Friday, do you know? I imagine that you would be expected to have some sort of a chaperon.’

Helena was silent for a few moments as she considered Lottie’s words but then, shaking her head, she felt bound to admit that the etiquette involved in this particular issue was somewhat outside her sphere. Although the matter had seldom arisen, it was perfectly true that, since her cousin had joined the Wheatley household, Lottie’s inclusion into any invitation, heretofore, had always been taken for granted. But, as Helena was well aware, small gatherings of her father’s business acquaintances, accompanied by their wives and assorted progeny, could hardly be compared with what Lady Isobel was likely to have in mind for the coming Friday.

‘I dare say I could ask Lord Markfield,’ she said eventually but then, recalling her earlier embarrassment over the faux pas regarding the carriage ride, she heaved a reluctant sigh. ‘But it is sure to give him even more reason to think us complete flats!’

At Helena’s crestfallen expression, a puzzled frown appeared on Lottie’s brow but she forbore from commenting on her cousin’s remark. Instead, she felt constrained to point out that, since Lady Isobel appeared to be so eager to sponsor Helena’s début, surely she was the person from whom any such advice must be sought.

Her face clearing, Helena reached out and grasped hold of Lottie’s hands. ‘But of course! How foolish of me not to have thought of that myself! Oh, Lottie, what an absolute gem you are. I shall write a note to her ladyship at once.’

Later that evening, however, as she sat at her father’s bedside and studied his grey, lined features, Helena found herself filled with serious misgivings regarding her continued deception of the sick man.

‘Now, my jewel,’ he was saying, his voice a husky whisper, ‘you must promise me that you will not allow this little setback of mine to interfere with any arrangement that the dear countess cares to make on your behalf. I feel myself growing stronger by the day and I find it extremely comforting to hear that you are not entirely averse to Lord Markfield’s suit. I was beginning to fear that we would never find the right husband for you!’

Helena attempted a careless laugh and patted his hand.

‘Good heavens, Papa! Anyone would think that you were anxious to get rid of me!’

The old man regarded her warmly. ‘Dear child.’ He smiled. ‘You know full well that that is not the case—I am merely concerned for your future well being. And, in the short time I was able to study his lordship, I do have to say that he struck me as being a very fine gentleman.’

‘Oh, I am sure you are right, Papa,’ replied Helena, uncomfortably aware that these were almost the exact words that her father had used in his appraisal of each of the three previous contenders for her hand. However, conscious of the physician’s recommendations that her father must enjoy absolute quietude, she refrained from any mention of those earlier conversations. Instead, having realised that the invalid was beginning to exhibit signs of fatigue, she gently disengaged her hand from his grasp, rose to her feet and bent to kiss his forehead.

‘You must rest now, dearest. Doctor Redfern has promised to come and see you tomorrow morning. I would not like him to think that you had been overtaxing yourself.’

‘You are a such a good girl, Helena,’ murmured Mr Wheatley, as he closed his eyes but then, almost at once, he forced his heavy lids apart and blurted out, ‘You will remember to have Markfield sign that contract, won’t you—I must have his promise…!’

‘Pray do not excite yourself, Papa,’ interjected Helena, utterly dismayed at her father’s sudden reference to the still-unsigned document, since she had been all but convinced that the dreaded subject had finally slipped his mind. ‘I am dealing with the matter, you have my word!’

As she let herself out of his bedchamber, however, fresh qualms began to assail her and she spent a very unsettled night wrestling over the combined difficulties of, not only fending off her father’s awkward questions but also, wondering how on earth she was going to come up with an acceptable excuse for terminating her association with the earl who, insofar as she was able to judge, appeared to be well nigh faultless!

The following day, having spent the morning helping out at the Chelsea soup kitchen, as was their usual practice, the two girls arrived home to find that, not only had the countess’s reply to Helena’s query been delivered during their absence but, in addition, a beautifully boxed posy of violets and primroses had arrived, courtesy of Lord Markfield.

To Helena’s relief—although rather to her cousin’s consternation—Lady Isobel indicated that, given that she was suitably gowned and coiffured, Miss Daniels’s presence on Friday evening would be quite in order.

‘Well, even she will have difficulty in finding fault with our appearance,’ glowered Lottie, upon reading her ladyship’s words. ‘Most of those lovely evening gowns that you had Madame Devy make for us last year have barely seen the light of day, let alone graced the rooms of the rich and famous, so I certainly shan’t shame you in that respect!’

Helena, who had been rapt in contemplation of the floral tribute, spun round in astonishment. ‘Shame me? Good Heavens, Lottie! What are you saying? How can you possibly think that I would ever be ashamed of you—you are my dearest friend!’

‘That’s as may be, at present,’ replied her cousin, only slightly mollified. ‘But, just you wait! The minute you start moving in those exalted circles, you should not be surprised to find yourself surrounded by a great many new friends—especially once news of Uncle Giles’s fortune gets about! Added to which, there is another matter that has been bothering me. If you really intend to allow her ladyship full rein in the setting up of these engagements, it cannot have failed to occur to you that they will all be organised to suit her convenience, not your own. It seems to me that you are going to find yourself in something of a social whirl—morning visits, afternoon calls, theatre parties and so on. How will we be able to fit in all our other commitments? We shall scarce have a moment to ourselves!’

Helena merely laughed, saying, ‘Oh, come now! Surely you are worrying unnecessarily? We had no problem fulfilling our duties at the chapel when I was staving off the other three, so I fail to see why you think that it should prove any more difficult this time.’

Shaking her head, Lottie eyed the little posy reflectively. ‘As I recall, Nell,’ she pointed out, ‘you were somewhat more averse to those particular gentlemen’s attentions than you seem to be to Lord Markfield’s—as well as doing your level best to find ways of extracting yourself from your various engagements with them. This time, it does seem to me that you are a good deal more eager to give the matter rather more than its fair share of your attention!’

A rosy glow crept across Helena’s cheeks. ‘W-whatever can you mean, Lottie?’ she stammered uneasily. ‘You must know that I only fell in with her ladyship’s plans because it seems to me that, with Papa still so poorly, I really have very little choice in the matter.’

Lottie shrugged. ‘Very true, my dear. But I can’t help wondering exactly how you intend to ditch this particular peer!’

Helena flinched and a little shiver ran down her back. ‘It is far too early to be thinking about that, Lottie,’ she retorted. ‘For me to pull out at this stage would be nothing short of disastrous. Besides which, Papa would never countenance such a thing at present.’

‘You are right, of course,’ returned Lottie sagely. ‘Besides which, Lord Markfield is, without a doubt, far and away the best of those who have responded to Uncle Giles’s offer and, apart from the fact that he has such extraordinarily perfect manners, you have to admit that he has to be the most devilishly handsome creature that you have ever come across!’

In order to hide the beginnings of yet another tell-tale wave of colour that ran across her face, Helena hurriedly bent to gather up her outdoor things and swept towards the door, declaring, ‘If you are about to descend into talking utter nonsense, Lottie, it is clearly time to bring this conversation to a halt! Allow me to assure you that his lordship’s looks, handsome or otherwise, are of very little concern to me.’

This grand exit, however, did nothing to diminish the guilty niggle within that warned her that there was, perhaps, a certain amount of truth in her cousin’s words.

With a pensive frown on her face, she made her way up the stairs towards her bedchamber and would gladly have dismissed Lottie’s remark had she not been obliged to admit to herself that she was finding the earl’s attentions rather pleasing. His choice of flowers, for instance, could not have been more delightful—he could hardly have known that she had always preferred the fragile beauty of these woodland blossoms to their more exotic hothouse sisters.

She stared down at the small piece of pasteboard in her hand and turned it over hoping, against reason, to find some sort of message. But only the stark flourish of the single word ‘Markfield’ sullied the card’s pristine surface. Laying the card down on to her dressing table, she buried her nose into the posy, dreamily inhaling its delicate fragrance. A soft sigh of pleasure escaped her lips as, with closed eyes, she found herself back in the woods near her uncle’s vicarage where, as children, both she and Jason had spent many happy hours wandering at will with their country cousins.

Her eyes moistened as she recalled those carefree, far-off days and, not for the first time of late, she found herself wishing that she could find some way to persuade her father to give up his broking practice and move out of town. A plentiful supply of clean, fresh air, coupled with a stress-free existence in some peaceful rural backwater, she thought, surely must do wonders for his rapidly failing constitution.

Blinking away her tears, she fetched a glass from the night-stand and, after filling it from the water jug, she carefully arranged the posy of flowers within it, before returning the glass to its original position beside her bed. She was gravely contemplating the delicate loveliness of the pale blossoms, cradled in the dark velvety softness of their cool green leaves, when it suddenly came to her that the Earl of Markfield was, in all likelihood, the owner of such a country idyll. This thought had no sooner entered her head than it was immediately succeeded by the staggering realisation that, should she care to encourage his lordship’s suit, rather than setting out to sabotage it, she might well, within a matter of mere months, find herself absolute mistress of an estate that would provide an ideal setting for her father’s recuperation.

Almost as quickly as this somewhat fanciful notion conjured itself up, however, it evaporated into thin air, Helena having been obliged to recall Markfield’s initial reluctance to involve himself with her proposal. Added to which, hadn’t the dowager countess also made it perfectly clear that, as far as she was concerned, any association between Helena and her grandson was intended to be purely temporary and would continue only as long as it proved beneficial to Markfield’s cause?

A small frown furrowed Helena’s brow, as she realised that the reins of power did seem to have passed firmly into in her ladyship’s hands, rather than remaining with herself, as she would have preferred. But why, she wondered, should this disconcert her so? Having achieved, more or less, what she had set out to do, she knew that she ought to be glad that there would no longer be any need for subterfuge and, more to the point, perhaps, it was reasonable to assume that the actual termination of the relationship would be settled by mutual agreement. It was, therefore, most vexatious for Helena to discover that, whenever her thoughts lighted upon the inevitability of the affair’s eventual conclusion, she was conscious of the oddest sensation of regret. This mounting state of uncertainty was not aided by the fact that she then found that she was actually looking forward to her next meeting with the earl!

Grimacing at her reflection in the looking glass, she patted her hair into place and changed into her house slippers, ready to join her cousin in the dining room. As she was making her way down the stairs, however, a rueful smile began to play about her lips, for she had suddenly been beset by the most disquieting thought that, unless she kept her wits about her, despite all of her carefully conceived plans, she might well be about to find herself being beaten at her own game!

Richard, presently ensconced in the library at Standish House, was also wondering if he had been entirely wise to involve himself in what was turning out to be a rather more complicated set of circumstances than that for which he had originally bargained.

As a slight frown furrowed his brow, he found himself reconsidering the recent conversation he had had with his grandmother, whereupon his thoughts immediately flew to Helena, whose appearance, as he remembered quite vividly, had made a not inconsiderable impact on his senses. Under any other circumstances, this discovery would have proved something of a challenge to his healthy, masculine libido; the girl was undeniably attractive and, as she had recently demonstrated, more than capable of holding her own.

Then, as he once again recalled Helena’s impressive stand against the countess, Richard’s lips began to curve in an involuntary smile. In fact, the more he considered the events of the afternoon, the more there appeared to be about Miss Wheatley than he had, at first, surmised. Had he not been so heavily occupied with his present difficulties, several rather interesting possibilities might well have presented themselves. A roguish glint came into his eyes and his smile deepened.

A tap on the door interrupted his reverie and, turning his head, he observed Charles entering. With a welcoming smile, he gestured to the drinks tray on the table at his side and told his cousin to help himself.