Annie Burrows - Four Regency Rogues

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‘Oh, it is all going according to plan.’ Lady Brandon had come upon Charlotte in the dining room, where she was standing by the window looking out onto a damp garden. Behind her several tables were laden with food of every description: hams, chicken legs, fish, pastries, jellies, cakes.

‘What plan?’ She was still thinking about Roland and did not welcome the intrusion.

‘Why, the Earl is dancing with Martha now. She will bring him up to the mark. I should not be at all surprised if he does not ask Brandon for an interview later.’ When Charlotte made no response to this, she added, ‘What is the matter with you, Charlotte? I never saw such a Friday face in all my life and there is no reason for it. The ball is a prodigious success and you will find yourself being invited to everything from now on.’

Lady Brandon had set her heart on making a Countess of Martha. Her daughter, of course, had no say in the matter. Would his lordship have any say either? Charlotte believed he was strong enough to resist, if he wanted to. But supposing he did not? Supposing he married Martha? Being a friend and confidante of Lady Brandon, she would be thrown even more into his company and it would be unbearable. But she was no simpering schoolgirl, she told herself sternly; she was a mature businesswoman who knew how to best an opponent. He was an opponent and she would get the better of him and of her own wayward desires, one way or another. She forced herself to sound bright. ‘There is nothing wrong, Catherine. I was making sure everything is ready for supper.’

‘You have servants for that. You should be mixing with your guests and making sure the young people have partners.’

‘I know. I am just going back.’

She returned to the ballroom and set about her duties as a hostess with a bright smile, bringing young men and young ladies together to dance, chatting to the older men, laughing when they teased her about her costume, pretending not to notice the disapproval of the matrons. This was how it was going to be in future, this false brightness, this pretending, even with Roland Temple. Especially with him.

Roland was aware of her, but whenever he approached her, she found some reason to disappear, and just when he decided he would have to force the issue, he saw Lady Brandon crossing the room towards him, like an eagle bent on its prey. He looked about for a way of escape, but before he could do so, he felt someone pluck at his sleeve. Miss Brandon was looking up at him with an expression on her face he could only interpret as pleading. ‘My lord, I must speak to you before Mama reaches us. Come with me, please.’

He had no time to demur, for Lady Brandon was very close and Martha, with a bright smile for her mother, took his arm and almost dragged him from the room, in full view of everyone. He groaned inwardly, but was too polite to resist, as she led him to the library and shut the door after them. She stood facing him, breathing heavily. ‘My lord, it is important I speak to you.’

He bowed. ‘I am at your service.’

‘My lord, please do not let Mama bully you…’

‘Bully me?’

‘Bully you into offering for me.’

‘Rest assured, Miss Brandon, she could not do anything that would influence me one way or another.’

‘I am glad.’

He smiled ruefully. ‘I thought you were intent on bringing Mr Elliott up to the mark. Is he still hanging back? I cannot think why he should be so dilatory. You are a charming young lady and just right for him.’

‘The foolish man has decided I am above his touch, that he does not want people to think he is after my fortune and has told me he means to leave the field clear for you.’

‘Good God! Miss Brandon, I hope that nothing I have said has led you to suppose…’

‘No, of course not, it is all in Mama’s head and of course she must boast of it in front of Martin. I truly do not know what to do.’

He must not appear too relieved, but how to answer he did not know. ‘Can you not tell Mr Elliott the truth?’

‘I cannot do that!’ she said, aghast at the suggestion. ‘In any case, while Mama thinks I have a chance with you, she will not entertain him.’

‘Then what shall we say to your mama?’ he asked.

‘Nothing. I wish you would not accept Mama’s invitations so frequently. You are filling her with hope.’

‘Am I? I was only being polite and thankful to be received into society after my long absence.’

‘I know that, but you know how people gossip and it has enhanced Mama’s expectations. Could you not behave a little coldly towards me? Then perhaps Martin will see…’

The young lady was stronger than he had previously imagined, but she was also naïve and had not realised the consequences of taking him off to be alone with him. He was at fault for not resisting, but that would have caused just as much comment. ‘Miss Brandon, I am afraid that would not serve. Everyone saw us leave the room and we have been talking together without a chaperon for several minutes. You cannot say, that in all that time, I did not make an offer. It would humiliate you and make me less than a gentleman.’

‘Oh, I had not thought of that!’ She gasped. Then her face fell. ‘Do not tell me you feel obliged to offer for me after all?’

‘I ought to.’ He paused. Some way out of the dilemma had to be found. ‘Shall we say I offered and you refused? Will that do?’

She smiled, obviously relieved. ‘You would not mind?’

‘No, it is the least I can do. But will your mama accept that?’

‘I think so. I hope so. I hope Martin believes it…’

‘Then, with your permission, I shall act the rejected suitor and take my leave. You may say I am heartbroken, if you wish.’ He smiled, aware of the irony of the situation. ‘If you like, I will act the part and take myself off for a few days to recover.’

‘Thank you, my lord, but I wish you would not inconvenience yourself.’

Lady Brandon almost tumbled through the door as he was taking his leave ‘Oh, there you both are! May I offer my felicitations?’ She was so eager, she looked about to burst out of her tight pink bodice.

‘No, Mama, you may not,’ Martha put in, far more forcefully than Roland would have expected of her. ‘Lord Temple and I have decided we should not suit.’

‘Not suit!’ her ladyship echoed, her mouth open in consternation.

‘Your daughter has rejected me, my lady,’ he said. ‘Now, if you will excuse me.’ He bowed to Lady Brandon and then turned to Martha, taking her hand and bending over to kiss the back of it. ‘Miss Brandon, I wish you happy.’

He heard her ladyship’s voice as he left. ‘Martha, whatever were you thinking about? After all the trouble I have taken…’

He returned to the ballroom and made his way over to the Countess. All the ladies seemed to be whispering and looking towards him over their fans. They had seen him go off with Miss Brandon and had come to their own conclusions. He had been alone with her for several minutes so he must have offered and of course she had accepted. What young lady would not? Would Miss Cartwright allow the announcement to be made at her ball or must they wait for an official notice in the newspaper? He wondered wryly what they would say when they learned there was to be no wedding. ‘I find I must leave,’ he told his mother quietly.

‘Why?’

‘I cannot explain now. You stay and enjoy yourself. Geoffrey will see you home safely when you are ready. We will talk tomorrow.’

‘Miss Brandon?’

‘Yes and no.’

She sighed. ‘Very well.’

A brief look about him ascertained Charlotte was not in the room and Lady Ratcliffe was in earnest conversation with Lady Brandon, who had followed him into the ballroom. He left the room and, instead of asking a footman to have his gig brought to the front entrance, found his way out of a back door and took a narrow path across the garden towards the stables. He would not say goodbye to anyone else; there was no one to whom he could bid adieu except Charlotte, and she was determined not to speak to him. The world would think he had left because of his disappointment, but that would not matter if it meant Miss Brandon could hold her head up in the community and not be laughed at for chasing him in vain.