Annie Burrows - Four Regency Rogues

‘Aunt, it is already too late. I simply want to give a masked ball. Everyone of consequence in the area has been getting up lavish entertainment to celebrate the end of the war and I do not want to be the odd one out. I want my ball to be the best, the most sumptuous, the most talked about in the whole county. And I do not care what it costs.’

Lady Ratcliffe turned to Charlotte in surprise and realised there was more to this than the holding of a ball. Her niece had suddenly become aware of what she had missed in her youth and her ladyship was prepared to gamble it had a great deal to do with the Earl of Amerleigh. She smiled to herself; she had not arrived a moment too soon.

Their next call was on Lady Brandon, who was a very different being from the Countess. She was a prattler, full of herself and her family, of Martha in particular who had so cleverly attracted the attentions of the Earl of Amerleigh. ‘Have you met the Earl, my lady?’ she asked Emily.

‘Yes, he was with the Countess when we called. A very personable young man.’

‘Oh, yes, he is, is he not? Somewhat pinched in the pocket, I understand, though that is of little account. Brandon has told him that Martha is an heiress in her own right. He is very particular in his attentions to her, you know, and we are hopeful of a happy outcome very soon.’ She turned to Charlotte. ‘Have you decided on the ball?’

‘Yes, it is why I have asked my aunt to stay. She is going to organise it for me.’ She kept her voice carefully controlled, though Lady Brandon’s confidence was making her wonder how far matters had really gone between the Earl and Martha.

‘Indeed, I am surprised, considering I offered to help you,’ the lady said huffily. ‘I would have taken all the hard work out of it for you.’

Charlotte realised her friend’s show of hurt was on account of not being able to boast that Miss Cartwright had no idea how to organise a ball and without her help it would have been a very sorry affair indeed. ‘I am sure you would, Catherine,’ she said carefully. ‘But I know you are very busy yourself, but no doubt Aunt Emily will be glad of any help you can afford her.’

‘Tell me, is the Earl really going to offer for her daughter?’ Emily asked, when they were once more on their way.

‘I have no idea. It is none of my business.’

‘Then you must make it your business.’

‘Certainly not!’ Charlotte exclaimed.

‘I shall make it mine to find out.’

‘No doubt everyone will find out in due course. At the moment I am more concerned with making my ball a success.’

‘Very well, let us talk about the ball, considering you have given me less that three weeks to have everything ready. If you want to have a full ballroom, the sooner you issue the invitations the better. Have you made a list?’ Emily asked.

‘I have made a start.’

‘Good. Have you decided on any of the other necessities: musicians, food and drink, flowers, extra staff, your own costume?’

‘No, that is why I asked you to help me. Apart from choosing my costume, you may have the ordering of it all.’

‘Then we had best go into Shrewsbury tomorrow and make a start,’ Emily announced.

‘You go. Take Lady Brandon with you. She knows all the best shops. I have to go to the mill.’

‘Charlotte, I despair of you,’ her ladyship said. ‘Do you never think of anything but work?’

‘Of course I do, but it is a particularly difficult time at the moment. We have a large order to fulfil and I am waiting on a consignment of cotton yarn from the spinners that is late. I must chase up our suppliers.’

She forgot all about the ball when she arrived at the mill next morning to be told that the yarn had still not arrived. ‘I sent over to Langhams and they said the raw cotton had not arrived from Liverpool,’ William Brock told her. Mr Langham, who conducted his business from premises just outside Shrewsbury, employed an army of spinners who turned the raw cotton into yarn, which he was contracted to pass on to Cartwright’s for weaving. ‘I am told the Fair Charlie is overdue. There have been storms at sea.’

Running short had never happened before, but the Fair Charlie had never been delayed by more than a few days before, and she had taken on more orders than usual. She had been remiss in not making provision for such an eventuality and realised, to her chagrin, that she had allowed herself to become distracted by the Earl of Amerleigh and the social events in the village, which she had never previously bothered with, not to mention indulging herself going to Tommy’s lessons when she should have been at work. ‘There are always storms at sea. I came through one myself not three months since. The ship has always been able to weather them.’

‘Then let us hope that it will do so this time.’

She mulled over the possibilities and remedies as she drove back to Mandeville. If the ship did not come in soon, she would have to find an alternative source of supply to keep the weavers busy.

At home again, she found Lady Ratcliffe entertaining Lady Brandon to tea and going over long lists of things they had ordered and others they still needed. As the money for it was not coming out of their purses, they had been more than extravagant, but considering she had said she did not care how much the ball cost, she made no comment on it.

‘What about your costume?’ Lady Brandon asked her. ‘Have you given a thought to it?’

‘Not yet.’

‘We discovered a place in Shrewsbury that has all manner of costumes for rent. I have chosen mine and so has Martha. Why not go there?’

‘I will see what they have to offer when I go into town next time.’

* * *

The next week was a worrying time and she could not give her mind to her costume or even to the ball, but as the two ladies more than made up for her deficiency, the arrangements were coming along nicely, which was more than could be said for the work at the mill. Rumours were flying round that the Fair Charlie had been lost and, when there was no more yarn to weave, all the workers would be laid off. It took all her time to reassure her workforce that such was not the case, especially as the supplies in the stockroom were dwindling to an alarming degree. Mr Brock had taken it upon himself to discharge one man, an overseer called Josh Younger, who was intent on exaggerating the rumours. ‘He was making everyone discontented,’ Brock told her when she questioned his decision. ‘I had no choice.’

There was nothing for it but to go to Liverpool and find out what was happening herself.

‘You can’t go now,’ Emily complained when she told her. ‘You will not be back in time for the ball.’

‘Of course I will. It is over a week away and you have everything in hand. I shall be gone no longer than I have to be.’

‘Who is to go with you?’

‘No one, except Talbot to drive the coach.’

‘Charlotte, ladies do not travel around the countryside unaccompanied. Anything could happen.’

‘I am not a lady, nor ever will be.’

She pretended not to hear her great-aunt’s murmur, ‘You will be if I have anything to do with it,’ as she left the room to give orders for the coach to be readied and a groom sent ahead on horseback to arrange post horses.

* * *

Roland had not seen Charlotte for days. She had not attended the lessons, nor even been seen in the village. He missed her. He missed their wrangling, her chuckle of humour as she bested him in some argument. He missed her gentle care of Tommy, her understanding of the boy’s needs, her fire when roused. And he enjoyed rousing her.

‘Why not go and see if anything is wrong?’ his mother suggested, when he voiced his concern. She had come up to the Hall to supervise the hanging of new curtains in the drawing room and they were enjoying a break for refreshment.