Catherine Tinley - Waltzing With The Earl

Just now, she did not look quite so formidable.

Retying her cap under her left ear, and gathering her thoughts at the same time, Lady Sophia surveyed the Earl. He looked fresh and immaculately groomed. His boots were polished to a high gloss, his neckcloth perfectly tied, and his eyes clear and amused. Yet she knew he—like most of London’s elite—had drunk and eaten, danced and talked until the early hours of the morning at Lady Cowper’s ball.

‘Why are you so awake and so loud at this ungodly hour? I am not long arisen from my bed.’

‘But it is almost two o’clock.’

‘Yes, but it feels like the middle of the night! I believe there was something wrong with those prawns, you know, though I would never say so to Emily Cowper. I feel distinctly unwell.’

‘Well, you look as fresh as a newborn lamb, despite...er...the copious amounts of punch on offer last night.’

She eyed him malevolently. ‘Yes, thank you, Adam, but you really shouldn’t be barging in unannounced, you know.’

‘Aunt Sophia, you summoned me here. I dashed from my bed when I received your message, wondering what desperate crisis had occurred. I came as quickly as I could!’

‘Foolish boy! I have no time for your funning today.’ She patted his hand warmly, but then spoke intently. ‘Something of a most concerning nature has occurred.’

‘Do tell, pray.’

‘Last night at the ball the Fanton name was being bandied about in a most unpleasant way.’

He frowned. ‘Indeed? May I ask what was said?’

‘There’s the thing. I don’t know exactly. But I know the sort of tittle-tattle and gossip...’

‘Ah.’ He sat back. ‘And was this gossip perhaps related to the fact that we were part of the Buxted party at the ball?’

‘I cannot like it, Adam. We are Fantons. We should not be the subject of demeaning conversation from people with nothing else to do.’

‘What are the old tabbies saying? What can they possibly find amiss in our company last night? The Buxteds are a respectable family whose Surrey estate marches with ours. Why, we may have known them for a long time.’

‘Yes, but it is known you have never been intimate with them. It is drawing attention. It seems Mrs Buxted has been crowing about you visiting their house and having dinner, arranging riding excursions...’ She paused. ‘There are even rumours that the entire family have been invited to Chadcombe.’

‘And what if they have?’

She looked shocked ‘But, Adam, you must know it is too particular... It looks as if you may be planning to offer for one of the Buxted girls. Now, I must say since your father’s illness, and this last year, you have surprised all the naysayers who thought you would struggle to manage Chadcombe. I know as few do how things were let slip these last few years, with your mama gone and your father not himself...I also know how you are working hard to repair and improve the estate. You have behaved admirably, my boy. But there is no need to set up your nursery too soon, you know. Better to wait a while for the right girl to come along.’

The Earl remained expressionless.

She took his hand. ‘Tell me, Adam, do you think of marriage?’

‘Yes—no! I don’t know.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘I had thought it sensible, but unfortunately I am having some difficulty in actually deciding to...well, to cross that particular Rubicon. I have had my fill of debutantes. They giggle and simper and talk too much—or not enough. Or they have no opinions. Or they have ill-informed opinions. Or they are...impudent.’

He rose, trying to shake away the memory of one particular young lady, and made an absent-minded study of Lady Annesley’s ormolu clock on the mantel.

‘I must at least consider it, Godmama. It is my duty to marry well. Grandfather almost ruined us, and Papa worried himself into an early grave trying to restore our fortunes. I have made a good start on the estate, but the house has lost some of its warmth since Mama died. It needs a mistress. And Olivia needs female company—someone other than Great-Aunt Clara. Olivia and I argue too much lately. I do not understand what goes on in the mind of a woman!’

‘What do you and Olivia argue about?’

‘She chafes against the restrictions of Chadcombe. She wishes to come out next season, now we are out of mourning, but in truth I cannot stomach the thought of squiring her to dozens of balls and routs. And as for Almack’s—with its orgeat and its gossips—’ He grimaced. ‘I have been trying hard this season to take my place in the Marriage Mart, but the whole game quite disgusts me!’

‘Adam, you have had it your own way for far too long. No, do not show me that face. I am not a debutante, to be slain by your wrathful looks. I am your aunt and your godmother and I shall tell you what I think.’

‘I am all attention, dear Aunt.’

‘You are a good boy, Adam. You work hard with the estate and your interest in politics does you credit. My brother—your poor father—would be proud of you. But you are accustomed to deference, and to having what you want. You have the freedom to go where you will, whenever you wish—to gambling dens, cockfights, boxing matches and other uncouth pursuits if you wish. You have independence. Try to remember Olivia does not.’

‘Olivia is well cared for. My great-aunt—’

‘Clara Langley is too old to be a fitting companion for a young lady. You know I love your mother’s elderly aunt, but she does not wish to go out in society and has no understanding of the needs of a young girl like Olivia.’

‘Which is why I must marry! My...my wife—’ he struggled with the word ‘—will look after Olivia, help her with her come-out and—’

‘But that is not a reason to marry. Why, I could take dear Olivia under my wing.’

‘Come, come, Aunt Sophia. You would hate it after a week. Like me, you are accustomed to independence. Since my uncle died—and I know you grieve deeply for him—you have built a good life as a widow, have you not?’

‘You know me too well. But, Adam, I will do it. If you do not find a lady you truly wish to marry—a lady you love and wish to share your life with—then I will bring Olivia out next season. There!’

He kissed her hand. ‘Best of aunts. I thank you—though I still believe you would detest it. How would you survive Almack’s every week?’

She struggled to answer.

‘Exactly!’

‘Wretch! Now, tell me—what of Harry? His name is being linked with the Buxted girls too, with speculation that he will also marry.’

The Earl considered this, his forehead creased. ‘I cannot say, for Harry no longer confides in me. He enjoys female company, and can flirt and make compliments much easier than I. But I do not know if he thinks of marriage... The wars have changed him, Godmama. Underneath the gaiety, he is still troubled, I think.’

‘He is young. Time will help him forget what he has seen. Now we have peace, and will not be murdered in our beds by Frenchmen, he can enjoy his duties without anxiety. You shake your head—do you disagree with me?’

‘I cannot be easy about Harry. He hides it well, but... I am being foolish, perhaps. Too much time to think and worry and ponder over things. And now this unfortunate mess. I am displeased that my attentions to the Buxted ladies have been noticed—and not just on my own behalf. I should not like to cause distress to any lady—and I should like the freedom to make my choice without an audience watching my every action.’

‘Tell me, have you invited them to Chadcombe? Just the mother and the daughters?’

‘I have—but not just Mrs Buxted and her daughters. The father too. And a relative who is staying with them.’

‘And who is your hostess? Clara?’