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Captivating the Cynical Earl

Page 6

by Catherine Tinley


  ‘Poor Tom? Poor Nell, more like!’

  ‘But Tom cares so much for his opinion. You cannot know what they have endured together.’

  Cecily snorted. ‘Indeed, I care not! My concern is for you, my dear friend, not for your abominable brother-in-law.’

  They stopped, and Cecily took a furtive glance behind them, noting with relief that the Earl had turned up a side path and was even now walking towards the nearest exit from the park. ‘He is gone, thank goodness.’

  Nell turned too, and they both stayed like that for a moment, neither speaking. Overhead the sun shone, and birds tweeted, and small clouds scudded busily across the sky. It was the strangest thing, that the world should continue so prosaically when Cecily’s senses were so disordered. Strangely, along with everything else, her foolish eyes had focused on noting just how handsome the Earl was. The current flutterings in her heart held unlooked-for attraction as well as everything else.

  How inconvenient!

  Why, she had yet to find anything likeable about him. And yet her foolish senses were severely disordered, and in a way that had little to do with their previous difficult encounter and everything to do with the Earl’s fine form and handsome face.

  Footsteps sounded behind them. ‘Ladies!’

  They turned back towards the palace to see Mr Beresford hurrying towards them. At least he had approached from the opposite direction from that his brother had just taken. They would not have seen each other.

  ‘I did wonder if I might find you still here! The footman has returned to the house and informed me it was your intention to walk in the park. I understand you have spent a small fortune on trinkets, for he was struggling with all the parcels!’ He was a little out of breath, and his face lit up as he took his wife’s hand. Nell was beaming with happiness.

  He kissed Nell’s gloved hand, and held it, seemingly reluctant to let go. ‘My love, it was bad enough that I could not accompany you last night to Lady Jersey’s, but now today it is you who have abandoned me!’ His tone was playful, and there was genuine amity between them, Cecily noted.

  Turning to Cecily, he gave a bow. ‘Good day, Lady Cecily. It is delightful to see you again. Are you well?’

  ‘I am indeed well.’ Her tone was guardedly polite. Did he know how his brother had accosted her? ‘Felicitations on your marriage.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He grinned, seemingly delighted with himself.

  ‘Oh, Tom,’ Nell was saying, excited hope in her tone. ‘May I invite Lady Cecily when we travel to Hazledene next week? She will be company for me while you are out hunting.’

  ‘Of course!’ He smiled at her indulgently. ‘You may have anything you wish, my love.’

  Cecily could not help a slight pang of envy. She eyed the happy couple, noting this warm, indulgent Tom looking at Nell as though she were the most precious creature on earth. Nell, too, was glowing with happiness, her eyes shining, as she sent her husband a sideways glance. In sharp contrast, last night the Earl had shown his true self—arrogant, entitled and domineering. It was interesting to note how different he was from his younger brother.

  They walked all the way to the Queen’s Basin and back. Their conversation was not unpleasant, Mr Beresford seemingly in a jovial mood and Nell glowing with happiness. The ladies’ recent encounter with the Earl was not mentioned.

  Mr Beresford bade them farewell at the gates, hurrying to his next engagement—an engagement on some business matters. Cecily was all politeness, but underneath she was still vexed by the Earl’s opposition to the marriage and confused and hurt in equal measure by his involving her in it.

  * * *

  ‘Well, Merton, where shall we begin?’ Jack, with some effort, focused his mind on the matters at hand. His man of business, Merton, indicated the papers he had been preparing. They were laid out on Jack’s desk in neat piles and represented a significant amount of work. Normally, Jack would have been eager to discover the tasks before him, to enjoy the stimulation and excitement matters of business always gave him. Today, however, he remained distracted and sombre.

  ‘I have separated them into three, my lord. These are documents needing your signature alone, this pile is for both you and your brother to sign, and here is new information on the prospects you asked me to look into.’ He glanced at the clock on the library mantel. ‘Mr Beresford should be here shortly.’

  Jack looked up, keeping his tone casual. ‘My brother has confirmed he is coming?’ There was a risk that Tom’s stubbornness would cause him to miss this important meeting. He never had before—not even during their previous disagreements. It was a sad reflection on the depth of the breach this time that Jack had to even consider the possibility.

  Merton’s brow creased. ‘Why, yes, sir. As is my usual practice, I informed him of the time we agreed to meet.’ He hesitated. ‘Is there some reason why he may not be here?’

  Jack dropped his gaze back to the papers in front of him. ‘I believe he may be busy with other engagements. I am not sure he will be able to join us as usual.’ Inwardly, his stomach was churning in quite an inconvenient manner. Never had there been dissent such as this between him and Tom. Their disagreements were less frequent these days and tended to focus on business matters.

  Occasionally they irritated each other over trivial concerns too, as most brothers did, but never before had Jack felt such a distance between them. He did not like it one bit. And since he had met Tom’s headstrong wife, Jack’s path had become even less clear.

  Voices in the hall indicated that Tom had, in fact, arrived. Jack ignored the leap of joyful relief within, instead focusing on the challenges the next half-hour would bring. His brow creased.

  Can I convince Tom to put aside his wife, before an annulment becomes completely impossible?

  He glanced at Merton. Nothing could be discussed in front of a servant.

  ‘Good day, Jack. Good day, Merton.’ Tom’s stiffness seemed immediately apparent to Merton, who returned the greeting then glanced quickly at Jack, a frown marring his forehead.

  ‘Good day, Tom.’ Even Jack could hear the strain in his own voice.

  ‘Ah, yes. Very good.’ Merton pulled at his right ear, suddenly busy. ‘There are a number of papers for you to sign, Mr Beresford, for the shared holdings.’ He drew the middle pile across the desk and pulled up a chair for Tom’s use.

  Without a word Tom picked up a pen and began scanning the first document. Jack, recognising instantly the sullen stubbornness on his brother’s face, could not help but be irritated by it. Here he was, trying to understand the most monstrous folly on his brother’s part, and Tom did not even appreciate his efforts. Worse, he clearly had set himself against Jack’s common-sense questioning of this reckless marriage.

  Jack gripped the pen tightly. He dared not think about her. Not right now.

  Merton, his face blank and expressionless, stepped back as the silence grew and thickened. The air in the room crackled with unspoken divisions as Tom worked methodically through the pile of papers assigned to him, read each one and signed it as if he had not a care in the world. At one point he even whistled a tuneful air, as if attacking Jack with his own cheerfulness.

  Jack, realising he had now read the first document four times without taking it in, signed it anyway—thereby breaking one of the earliest rules he had set himself since his passion for matters of business had begun.

  Ignoring his inner reservations, he picked up a document from Merton’s third pile. It related to a field he wished to purchase, which ran along the eastern edge of his estate. Mr Harting, the current owner, who had not yet been approached about the sale, was apparently building new cottages on the far side of his own estate, but, Merton reported, was woefully short of labourers. Jack, relieved to finally have something to pique his curiosity, glanced up.

  ‘Interesting, Merton. I wonder if Harting would appreciate some assi
stance with his building work from some of my own labourers? As a neighbourly kindness, of course.’

  Merton smiled slightly. ‘The possibility, my lord, did occur to me. Has Mr Harting agreed to hunt with you this month, as you had discussed before Christmas?’

  Jack nodded. ‘I saw him at my club yesterday. Both he and Carmichael will come with me to Hazledene on Tuesday.’

  Tom, who had been studiously ignoring their conversation, looked up at this. ‘But I am already engaged to use Hazledene this month. It was all arranged with the staff ten days since.’

  Jack, manfully hiding his true feelings, shrugged. ‘You will have to change your plans.’ Although the brothers shared use of Hazledene, Tom knew full well that it belonged to Jack.

  Tom eyed him defiantly. ‘You are the one who must give way. I had already set my plans in motion. Your trip with Harting and Carmichael can wait. I have always been able to use Hazledene at this time of year.’

  ‘It does not suit me to delay.’ All wisdom lost, and consumed by intense irritation at Tom, Jack was vaguely aware that he and his brother were locked into a meaningless battle—such as they had used to do when they had been children. Yet, just as he had felt back then, Jack knew that winning this battle of wills was, at this moment, the most important thing in the world. Vaguely, Jack was aware that Merton had dropped his gaze and was pretending to not hear their conversation.

  ‘Neither does it suit me to delay. I shall arrive in Hazledene on Monday next, and intend to remain there for most of March.’ Tom gave an arrogant flick of the hand. ‘You may invite your friends to stay any time after that.’

  ‘You know as well as I do that this month will be the last of the hunting.’

  ‘I also know you have no passion for hunting, as I do.’

  ‘My passion—’ Jack’s voice was a little louder ‘—is for business. I believed you to be of the same mind. We have worked together for eight years to build a secure future. We both know how important it is.’

  ‘Of course! But you may ride with Harting on the downs a month later, nevertheless!’ With a flourish, Tom signed the last of his papers and rose. ‘Good day.’ His bow was insultingly shallow. For the second time in a row he stalked out.

  Jack, deprived of a target for his anger, resorted to swearing vociferously at the closed door, causing Merton to raise his eyebrows in shock.

  ‘I shall travel to Hazledene on Tuesday, Merton,’ he stated firmly, ‘along with Mr Carmichael and Mr Harting. Please inform the staff there.’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’ Gathering up the papers, both signed and unsigned, Merton fled.

  Chapter Eight

  Hazledene was an elegant, solid house, with multiple chimneys and neat, symmetrical windows. Its half-timbered design and mullioned panes proclaimed it to have been built in the time of Good Queen Bess, and Cecily and Nell could not help but exclaim with delight when they turned up the short driveway towards the front door.

  Mr Beresford, who had accompanied the carriage on horseback, grinned at their reaction. ‘I thought you might like it,’ he murmured, reining in alongside them as the carriage slowed to a halt.

  Cecily stepped down onto the gravel path, grateful to be able to stretch and stand after hours in the rolling carriage. She and Nell had spent the journey sometimes chattering, sometimes resting, and generally at ease with each other.

  They had been able to see each other almost every day in the past week, and had enjoyed shopping trips, ices at Gunter’s and walks in the park, usually alone. Nell seemed to be accepting of her new husband’s habit of spending some time each day engaged with friends. ‘We both agreed it was important not to simply disregard friends who have been important to us for a long time,’ she had said, linking her arm in Cecily’s. ‘Like me, he has not got many friends, but those we have we wish to keep.’

  Nell remained anxious about meeting Lord Hawkenden again, to the extent that she had avoided soirées and early season parties since the terrible night at Lady Jersey’s. Thankfully, the encounter in the Green Park had not been repeated. Nell confessed to having developed a quaking terror of the man, and his avoidance of her at Lady Jersey’s soirée, followed by what she saw as a direct insult in the park, had, in her mind, confirmed that he did not approve of his brother’s new wife.

  Cecily, who knew full well that he was implacably opposed to Nell—and even to Nell’s friends—could only be relieved, and both young ladies were happy to wave Beatrice and Lady Fanny off in the evenings, while pleading tiredness, or a headache, or a desire for solitude. ‘You will never get a husband like that,’ Mama had scolded, wagging a finger in Cecily’s face. ‘It is all very well for Nell, who has bagged herself an earl’s brother, but you cannot afford to let this season’s debutantes have first pick of the bachelors!’

  ‘But, Mama,’ Cecily declared, flinching a little at her mother’s direct language, ‘I do not want a husband. At least, not yet.’

  ‘Fustian! It is your duty to wed, and once you have given your husband an heir, then you may begin to live a little!’

  Cecily had replied in a placating manner, hinting she would go out in society more after her trip to Hazledene once the season was properly underway, and Mama had, thankfully, let it go. She was relieved to avoid yet more conversation about her own future, as she experienced confusion and anxiety every time she thought of it. The problem was she wished for a marriage such as that of Ash and Marianne, or Nell and Tom, and not like most of society. Yet she saw no way to ensure such an outcome.

  She still felt deeply uncomfortable about her conversation with Lord Hawkenden, and had resolved to tell Nell the truth at Hazledene. Nell could hardly be more distressed about the situation, anyway. At the house they would be together much more than in London, and so there would be more chance of having time to discuss it properly. Guiltily, she wondered what Lord Hawkenden would say if he knew she was to visit one of the Beresford family properties, after he had made his dislike of her friendship with Nell so plain.

  No other guests were to be present during their stay, and Cecily anticipated leisurely days spent walking, reading and conversing with Nell, and evenings full of cosy contemplation. While she enjoyed London and all its delights just as much as any young lady, Cecily often had a secret hankering for peace and solitude. Mama’s life was a whirlwind of engagements and parties, routs and soirées. Cecily found that too many such events drained her, whereas Mama seemed to thrive on them.

  As they greeted the Hazledene staff, who had lined up to welcome Mr Beresford’s new wife, Cecily was conscious of a familiar feeling—and one that she had not expected to experience here. It was that old notion that she did not belong. At home with Ash and Marianne, she felt secure and comfortable, but spending most of the past eight years moving from house to house, hotel to inn, had taken its toll.

  Knowing that Mama’s visits to her friends were as much about their limited means than simply friendship, Cecily had become accustomed to a certain wariness. Sometimes their hosts betrayed through an unguarded grimace or throwaway remark that they knew quite well that Lady Fanny was hanging on their coat-tails via convenient friendships. If Mama were less personable, Cecily reflected, they would probably spend much more time with Ash and Marianne, and would likely be happier for it.

  The irony, of course, was that both Cecily and Lady Fanny had perfectly adequate allowances. Ash was not in any way miserly and had ensured a good dowry for Cecily as well as a respectable allowance for both ladies. Indeed, he had done more than had been required of him in Papa’s will. Cecily’s financial constraints in the quarter had little to do with her true financial stability, for she knew herself to be well-dowried.

  The difficulty was that Ash’s definition of ‘a respectable allowance’ did not match Mama’s spending habits. Lady Fanny had a habit of gleefully disposing of her allowance as quickly as she wished—normally on clothes, expensive food and wine,
and gifts for her friends, trusting that others would cover her bills towards the end of each accounting period. Most of Cecily’s own allowance was frequently taken up paying Mama’s bills. There was no point in asking for a larger allowance either, as Mama would simply spend that, too.

  Visiting Hazledene should have felt different. Cecily knew that Nell truly valued their friendship, and that she genuinely welcomed her company. But the disquiet she was feeling about her encounter with the Earl meant that she could not feel easy about it.

  Thoughts of the Earl were never far away. Just ten minutes ago Nell had repeated how much she was looking forward to nigh on a month in Hazledene, free from the vexation of wondering when she might see her disapproving brother-in-law again. ‘Tom will still not speak of him,’ she had confided to Cecily. ‘I fear they are at odds over our marriage.’

  ‘I believe you are right,’ Cecily had agreed cautiously. ‘But hopefully he will accept in time the fact that you are wed.’ Since the arrogant Earl had expressed his clear opposition to his brother’s marriage, Cecily now found herself even more determined to support it. And why should she be forced to give up her friendship with Nell just because Nell’s brother-in-law disapproved of her for some unknown reason?

  Greetings done, all of their worries were temporarily forgotten as they explored the house together—the grand hall with its huge fireplace and double height ceiling, the various smaller rooms downstairs, the spacious parlours upstairs on either side—one done up in red, one yellow—and the Long Gallery and five sumptuous bedchambers on the top floor, just below the attics. As footmen hauled their trunks upstairs, Cecily and Nell dashed about like girls, exclaiming with wonder at the clever way in which such an old house had been preserved.

  Mr Beresford informed them that he and his brother had had to complete substantial work to the place in the past few years, as it had fallen into disrepair.

 

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