THE TREVORS: BOOKS I - IV

by Quinn, Ella

  “There are also a castle folly and a scene with automatons,” Hawksworth added.

  “I’d like to see those first.” Euphrosyne was glad her brother had mentioned them. If the labyrinth was extensive, it might take a long time to work it out, and they might miss the moving figures with their ingenious clockwork mechanisms.

  Her sister nodded.

  “Very well,” Mr. Paulet agreed.

  When they did get to the maze, try as she might, Euphrosyne could not find her way out and suffered the ignominy of being rescued by Mr. Paulet and Laia.

  After that, they explored the grotto, and wandered along one of the shady paths until Hawksworth’s stomach grumbled loudly.

  “I’m for my luncheon,” her brother proclaimed.

  “When do you not wish to eat?” Mr. Paulet groaned and gave Hawksworth a disgusted look that made Euphrosyne want to laugh.

  “Rarely,” Hawksworth retorted in a lofty tone.

  His stomach was not the only one complaining. Just the loudest. “I’m hungry as well,” she said.

  Mr. Paulet glanced at her sister and shook his head. “There is nothing for it. We must see these two fed. I know for a fact Hawksworth becomes a bear when he’s peckish.”

  “To be honest, my sister is not much better.” Laia sighed, and Euphrosyne was hard pressed not to stick her tongue out at them.

  She tugged Hawksworth’s arm. “Let them straggle behind if they wish. I’m for my luncheon.”

  As they were about to mount the steps to the house, they met her sister-in-law and mother coming from the direction of town. “Did you drink the waters?” Euphrosyne asked. “Were they very nasty?”

  “Yes and no.” Her mother laughed lightly. “The Pump Room has many interesting people, including some young ladies. You may wish to accompany us tomorrow.”

  “Both Mr. King, who is the Master of Ceremony for the Upper Rooms,” Meg said, “and Mr. Guynette, who performs the same task at the Lower Rooms, informed us there are balls twice every week and an illumination is planned four days afterward.”

  Euphrosyne prayed that they would be allowed to attend the balls.

  “Did you come across anyone you know?” Hawksworth took his wife’s hand, raising it to his lips.

  “Indeed we did.” Meg stared lovingly into his eyes.

  That was what Euphrosyne wanted when she married. To love her husband and have him love her.

  “Lady Sarah and Mr. Jeremy Bellingham are here with her brother Markville.”

  “That’s a surprise,” Hawksworth said. “I would have supposed Markville to be in Brighton.”

  “Oh, no. He doesn’t like the Carlton House crowd any more than we do.” Meg took Hawksworth’s arm. “They are staying at The York while they look for a house to buy.”

  That put whoever Markville was at political odds with Euphrosyne’s father, who supported the monarchy in everything. This Markville interested her just for that reason. “Who are Sarah and Jeremy and Markville?”

  “Your father wanted your brother Quartus to marry Sarah. Jeremy is her husband, and the Marquis of Markville is her brother. Markville is buying a house for them,” Meg said to Hawksworth as she strolled grinning behind Mama through the door. “You remember Quartus told us there was a misunderstanding of some kind between Sarah and her brother? It seems they have worked it out.”

  Meg handed her parasol and bonnet to Perkins. “We shall see them at the Pump Room tomorrow. It is quite delightful there. I also met Lady Engle, a friend of my grandmother’s. You will like her a great deal, I dare say.”

  Mama invited Mr. Paulet to join them. As they sat down to a cold collation, the talk turned to other sites to be visited in the area. After a good deal of discussion, they decided on excursions to the ancient chapel at Farley Castle, the Roman ruins, and the badminton court. Euphrosyne was more than happy to put off sampling the waters, although she very much wished to meet Sarah, Jeremy, and Markville.

  The rest of her family wanted to go on horseback, but Euphrosyne knew her mother would require a carriage. “Hawksworth can hire a barouche for you if you wish.”

  “Thank you for the thought.” Her mother’s clear blue eyes smiled. “However, I shall leave the sightseeing to you.”

  “But, Mama, we want you to join us,” Euphrosyne pressed, but Mama, in her own gentle way, was every bit as stubborn as the rest of them.

  “I know you do, my love,” she said in a firm tone. “However, I have met some old friends with whom I would dearly love to renew my acquaintance, and I must take time to look in on your brothers and sisters. Aside from that, I shall be with you in the evenings for the balls and concerts.”

  “We’re going to be allowed to go to the ball?” Laia’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “A real ball?”

  Yes, yes, yes! Euphrosyne’s prayers were coming true! The way this was going she might even find a husband.

  “I believe I shall host a dancing afternoon,” Meg said.

  Mr. Paulet turned to Laia. “Will you do me the honor of standing up with me for your first dance at Lady Hawksworth’s party?”

  Her head swung from her mother, who nodded her permission, to him. “I would love to.”

  As happy as Euphrosyne was for her sister, she couldn’t but wish she had a gentleman with whom to dance.

  “Euphrosyne, I know I am only a brother, but will you allow me to lead you out for your first set?”

  “Thank you, Hawksworth. You are the best brother ever.” Still, she hoped that by the time of the dance, she would have met at least one other gentleman.

  Chapter 2

  Charles, Marquis of Markville, fought to keep a scowl from forming as his sister Lady Sarah Bellingham read the invitation aloud.

  “I, for one, would love to take this excursion to Farley Castle,” she said. She turned to her husband, smiling brightly. “Do you not agree, Jeremy?”

  “Yes, of course, my love.” Although it was not yet mid-afternoon, he pressed a glass of claret into Markville’s hand. Bellingham was a perceptive man.

  “And”—she waved the papers she held in the air—“if I am reading this correctly, Meg requires our assistance.”

  Markville would rather not have anything to do with the Marchioness of Hawksworth’s schemes. She and her husband were the most interfering pair Markville had ever met.

  At Sarah’s pronouncement, even her doting husband appeared nonplussed.

  Markville had no doubt Hawksworth, the Duke of Somerset’s heir, and his wife were engaged in arranging someone’s life. Then again, as much as Markville hadn’t liked their interference in his family, it had turned out for the best. Sarah was happier than he’d seen her in years.

  The Hawksworths had decided to become involved in politics as well, and Markville had the feeling that before long the couple would be a force to be reckoned with. Not that he objected to their causes, which were the very ones he supported. He simply wished his sister had confided in him instead turning to Meg Hawksworth in order to effect Sarah’s marriage to Jeremy.

  “Very well.” He smiled to himself at his sister’s grin. “I suppose we might as well go out and see the sights.” It would also give him an opportunity to exercise Samson, his three-year-old black stallion.

  The following morning, they rode to Laura Place and were met by Hawksworth’s party on arrival at the door. Markville was surprised to see Paulet and intrigued to see him escorting an ethereal-looking young woman with silvery blonde hair. She must be one of Somerset’s daughters. Then he noticed another young lady with the same hair color, but there was nothing otherworldly about her. Even though their features were similar, energy emanated from the lady’s every move. Her bright, light-blue eyes sparkled as one small foot determinedly touched the pavement as if she were setting out to conquer the world. Even her pale-blue nankeen habit seemed to shimmer.

  “Good morning, Markville.” Lady Hawksworth smiled at him. “Euphrosyne, allow me to make you known to the Marquis of Markville. Mar
kville, my sister-in-law, Lady Euphrosyne Trevor.”

  As he bowed, he admired her graceful curtsey. “My pleasure.” How old was she? Surely she was out. “Were you not in Town last Season? I am sure we would have met.”

  “No.”

  Her cheeks colored slightly, not with shyness, but with barely subdued anger, Markville suspected.

  “I should have been out last year, but our father decided none of us needed a Season.”

  Well, that was plain speaking. He liked her better for it. “What a pity.” Her eyes flashed for a moment. When she turned toward a white horse, he approached her. “Allow me.”

  “Thank you.” Lady Euphrosyne reached up for the saddle, clearly expecting him to cup his hands for her foot. Instead, he clasped her waist and lifted her onto the horse. Eyes wide, she stared at him. Now he had her attention. “That was”—she cleared her throat—“unexpected.”

  For reasons he could not understand, Markville wanted more.

  He didn’t know how strong her reaction was. Her breathing was steady, and the lace ruff hid any sign of her pulse. Only her eyes and words showed her surprise. Did she have a great deal of countenance, or was she cold? With a father like Somerset, Markville wouldn’t have been surprised at the latter, but there was something in the spark of her eyes that made him think she was anything but made of ice. Not to mention the energy he’d observed earlier.

  He’d learned this morning that her sister was betrothed to Bolton, of all the hideous choices. Who did her father have in mind for Lady Euphrosyne? Not Markville. He had no land with borders that marched with Somerset’s holdings, and that was main qualification as far as the duke was concerned. Markville could barely take his eyes from the lady when, in fact, he would be better off staying away from Lady Euphrosyne.

  She expertly guided her horse after her brother’s. Quickly mounting Samson, Markville followed and soon drew up beside her. “I understand from my sister that this is your first time in Bath.”

  “Other than my brothers’ weddings, it is my first time away from Somerset.” A current of anger ran beneath her pleasant tone. “If it were not for my sister’s betrothal, we would not be here at all.”

  Guilt struck him that he had even considered agreeing to Sarah’s marriage to Lord Quartus, one of Lady Euphrosyne’s many brothers. Not that there was anything wrong with Lord Quartus, but it would have left him in the duke’s control and placed Sarah there as well. Even if Quartus could have broken from his father, he would have had no means of support.

  They crossed Great Pulteney Street and headed toward Claverton Down. “What have you planned for your visit here?”

  Her polite smile finally broke into one that touched her expressive blue eyes. “A great many things. According to the guide book, there will be illuminations and open-air breakfasts. My mother said there will be balls and dances at the assembly rooms.” She heaved a sigh. “I have never been to a ball or a dance. And, of course we shall have more outings like this one.” Her short, straight nose wrinkled. “I suppose at some point I must taste the waters.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh. “Truth to tell, I have been avoiding them myself.”

  “But one would not wish to be thought provincial.” Her nose wrinkled even more.

  “Perish the thought.” Markville wanted to be present when she tasted the water, if only to see her expression. Damn. He’d been a fool to agree to the excursion. She had immediately intrigued him, and it wouldn’t do either of them a bit of good. “If my sister finds a house soon, I suppose she will wish to entertain.”

  “I’m glad she is a friend of my sister-in-law’s.” Lady Euphrosyne glanced behind her and he followed suit. Sarah was in close conversation with Lady Laia, who did not appear happy. “I have a feeling we shall be spending more time together.”

  “As do I.” That was, after all, the only way Sarah would be able to assist Lady Hawksworth in whatever plan she’d hatched.

  “Do you know much about Farley Castle?” Lady Euphrosyne asked, drawing his attention back to her.

  “I do. My maternal grandmother lived here for several years, and my sister and I used to visit. It was built in the fourteenth century by the Hungerford family, who had several ups and downs over the centuries. In the end, the final owner was beheaded by King Henry VIII, and the castle fell into ruin.”

  “Well, the owner’s end is not surprising,” she said. “King Henry seemed to go about beheading anyone who disagreed with him.”

  “You and my sister are in agreement on that point. It is fortunate our regent does not have the same power.”

  She gave him a searching look. “Are you friends with Hawksworth?”

  More acquaintances than friends. “Why do you ask?”

  “I thought you might share some of the same ideas.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “He once gave me a copy of Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Women. Our governess at the time considered it to be an excellent piece of philosophy.” Lady Euphrosyne grimaced. “My father did not agree.”

  That didn’t surprise Markville in the slightest. Yet Somerset didn’t strike Markville as the type of parent who would interest himself in his daughter’s studies. “How did he discover the book?”

  Her softly rounded chin firmed. “He made a pronouncement that I did not consider to be just, and I argued with him.” Once again, her magnificent blue eyes burned with the unfairness of it all. “He discharged my governess without a reference and burned the book. He also refused to allow Hawksworth to visit again.”

  “Nothing like a scorched-earth strategy to endear one to one’s family and others.”

  Lady Euphrosyne nodded, her gaze steady. “He must attempt to annihilate anyone who does not do as he wishes. Fortunately, Mama wrote an excellent reference for Mrs. Williams and made sure she was paid the next year’s wages.”

  He thought he knew the answer to his next question, but that didn’t stop him from asking, “Have you argued with him since?”

  “Yes.” Her already erect spine straightened. “Although, I am careful that no one other than me will be punished.” She urged her horse to a trot. “I’d like to enjoy the day. Shall we race to the willow?”

  “As you wish.”

  Lady Euphrosyne whispered in her horse’s ear and they were off like a shot.

  “Come, Samson. We must at least make a showing.”

  Markville need not have worried. His stallion seemed determined to catch up with her mare. Yet only that. The horse had no inclination to pass the ladies. Actually, neither did Markville. Lady Euphrosyne was an interesting woman. And despite recognizing it was a bad idea, he wanted to know her better.

  * * *

  Euphrosyne couldn’t believe Lord Markville’s huge horse hadn’t passed her and Estelle. Once man and beast had caught up, they seemed content to ride alongside. If only she knew whether they were merely displaying good manners or if it could be a sign of something else. Perhaps he was a gentleman who, like her brothers, preferred a partnership with a wife. Laia would scoff, but was it not true that most single ladies and gentlemen regarded one another as potential mates? After all, despite Wollstonecraft’s arguments to the contrary, what kind of life did a lady have if she remained single? Not one that Euphrosyne wanted. It would keep her under her father’s boot for the rest of her life. Why not see if she and Lord Markville would suit? As a peer he required an heir. Therefore he needed a wife. If she was right about his philosophies, he might be for her. There was only one way to find out. She would ask him when the race was over.

  When they reached the willow, she gave him a curious look. “Why did you not pass me? You have the stronger horse.”

  He flashed a grin that displayed straight white teeth. The man was definitely handsome. Was his mind as pleasing as his person? Parliament had recently been dissolved. That was a good topic for exploring whether he objected to a woman discussing the next government, and what his own views were on the matter. It was all to the good
if his beliefs matched with hers.

  “I can assure you that it was not my decision,” he said. “I like to win as much as the next man. I believe Samson wishes to be on better terms with your mare.”

  “I cannot blame him. She is a beauty.” Euphrosyne stroked her horse’s neck. “Do you think the Whigs have a hope of gaining control of Parliament now that it has been dissolved?”

  “As much as I hope we will, I’d be surprised if we did more than gain a few seats.”

  His dark brows drew together. So, this was a point of concern for him.

  “At the moment, there is too much fear among the landed gentry that we will end up like France,” he added.

  The Whigs supported the contentious position that the common man should be allowed to vote. Needless to say, her father staunchly believed that God gave the peerage and the King the right to rule. A position with which she did not agree. In fact, Euphrosyne would like women to be able to vote. Yet, only the most liberal thinkers, such as Hawksworth, agreed with her. “What do you think of the idea that women should be allowed to vote?”

  Euphrosyne held her breath as his gray eyes focused on her in a way they had not before. “I think it will, unfortunately, be a very long time before they are emancipated. However, that is not the only thing that must change for women.”

  “I completely agree.” She decided to charge on. “Property laws for married women must change as well. The ladies will never be able to achieve equality in their marriages if they do not.”

  “Very true. I take it you wish a marriage of equals.”

  “I wish for partnership in a marriage.”

  The corners of his well-shaped lips tipped up. “As do I.”

  For some reason, her neck and cheeks began to heat. Who knew that merely obtaining information could make one blush? Mayhap it was time to change the subject. “Do you think the Duke of Clarence’s marriage will produce the heir we need?”

  Markville’s lips twitched as if he would burst out laughing. “One can only pray. The royal dukes seem much better able to produce off-spring outside of marriage than within.”