by Leenie Brown
He flipped up his collar and trudged down the street, muttering under his breath about Miss de Bourgh and her standards as well as Madoch and his interference. “Ten thousand pounds,” he said to himself. “It is not a trifling amount to give up.” He should have kept his eyes up instead of on the ground. For if he had, he would not have run straight into Miss Ivison.
Instinctively, he reached out a steadying hand and kept the lady from falling.
“Mind where you are walking,” she snapped, pulling her arm back from his grasp.
“I am truly sorry,” he replied.
The look on Miss Ivison’s face changed from one of annoyance to one of calculated pleasure as she looked up and saw exactly who it was that had collided with her. “Oh, Mr. Blackmoore. I am not sure the fault is entirely yours. If my footman had taken both of my parcels instead of just one, I might have seen your approach more clearly and been able to step to the side.” She waved to a footman that stood near a coach just a short distance up the street. “Think nothing of our accident. I am well enough. Just a bit startled.”
She turned to her maid. “Take this to John.” She handed the parcel to the maid and then, placing a hand on her heart, she turned back toward Blackmoore. “Oh, see, my heart is nearly returned to normal already.” She batted her lashes and looked from his face to his arm and back.
Blackmoore was not ignorant of what she implied with such a look. “May I assist you to your carriage?”
“How very kind of you to offer,” she said as she placed her hand on the arm he offered. “My visits are nearly over for the day. I have only to make one last call on Miss Bingley.” She cast him a sidelong look. “Do you care to join me, or…hmmm…how do I ask this best?”
“I am not yet attached to the woman if that is what you wish to know. However, I am considering her.”
“I know it is very forward to ask such a thing, sir, but she is one of my dearest friends.”
“Indeed?”
“Oh.” Miss Ivison’s hand rested once more on her heart. “I know she is beneath both of us in standing, but one must contribute some charity work to this world. My lot seems to be cast as the one to assist Miss Bingley in being accepted into good society.” They had reached her carriage, but she had not released his arm. “Not that it is a burden. She is such a sweet girl.” She removed her hand from her heart and placed it on top of the one which still lay on his arm. “Please, Mr. Blackmoore, if you do not wish to call on Miss Bingley, at least, let me offer you a ride to wherever it is you are going.”
“I had no particular destination in mind.” He managed to remove his arm from her grasp and moved to help her into the carriage. “Perhaps another time,” he said politely.
“Yes,” she said taking his hand but not moving toward the carriage. “I had hoped you would be successful with Miss de Bourgh.” She lowered her eyes and her voice. “A title should stay with those who were born to it, should it not?” She looked up at him through her lashes before catching up her skirt and finally stepping toward the carriage. “Another time. If you need assistance with anything, Mr. Blackmoore, do not hesitate to call. I am always home to my friends.”
He blinked a bit as he watched the carriage pulled away. He was not quite sure, but he suspected she might have been offering herself as someone to consider as a wife. He straightened his coat sleeve and continued on his meander. She was not without means. Perhaps she was worth the consideration. He had just determined to pay her a call the following day when, again, with his attention not fully on where he was walking, he narrowly avoided a second collision. Excusing himself, he stepped to the side to allow two gentlemen to pass and then as the name Miss de Bourgh caught his ear, he turned to follow them so he could hear what they were saying.
“Some fellow named Madoch sat outside Matlock House for nearly two hours. She never did agree to see him,” said one man.
Blackmoore chuckled to himself. So last night’s saviour was today’s castaway.
“I hear she has been very businesslike with all her callers,” said the other. “They say she asks for their papers and conducts an interview.” He shook his head. “I would not marry such a woman. Imagine what else she might take it into her head to control. It is simply not right.”
“I agree,” said the first man. “But her fortune and connections are not to be discounted out of hand. A woman can usually be brought to heel after marriage. A reduction in social events, a few less coin to spend at the shops, among other things.”
The second man laughed. “You have apparently not met her. I hear she is a dragon much like her mother and uncle. Not the sort I would marry for twice her wealth.”
Blackmoore stopped. He had not considered carefully how much effort it might be to have Lady Catherine living with him. He turned away from the men shaking his head. He had met Lady Catherine last evening. Surely he could stay in town and allow the ladies to live without him at Rosings. But what of an heir? Would he be allowed to take the child with him to London? He laughed silently at his own foolishness.
“But her connections extend beyond her uncle. Darcy and Rycroft are both cousins,” the first man was saying, and Blackmoore turned to look their direction once again.
The second man shook his head. “They are not worth the trouble, and she will be trouble. I heard she made quite the spectacle at Rycroft’s ball last night. Gave poor Blackmoore a proper scolding.” He chuckled. “That man will have a hard go of finding a willing father to give him his daughter after Miss de Bourgh made certain all knew of his mistress.”
The first man whistled.
Blackmoore stood frozen to his spot. He had not considered that fact. Perhaps his friends were right. He should give Aimee up for now, at least until he could meet his father’s demands. Strangely, the decision, though it did discomfort him, did not bring the pain he had thought it would. He fumbled in his pocket for the fare he would need to get home and write the letter of explanation to Aimee.
Chapter 5
Anne gave a quick glance at her aunt as Lady Sophia returned to the sitting room. The last caller of the day, Sir Hugh, sat beside her. She wondered at the length of time her aunt had been gone from the room. Surely Lady Sophia was not in conversation with Alex for so long a period of time. She would have to make it plain to her aunt that Mr. Madoch was not an acceptable suitor as soon as she finished with Sir Hugh ─ she glanced at the papers in her lap ─ Mattingly. She tilted her head to the side. Lady Anne Mattingly. Yes, it sounded acceptable. She turned her attention to the documents once again. He was not wealthy beyond measure, but he was solvent and substantially so. She flipped through the papers, looking at his holdings and financial records. Then, she sat them aside in the stack that was slowly building on the table next to her. She looked carefully at the gentleman before her. He was not plain. In fact, his face was very like a chiselled marble. He held himself with dignity under her scrutiny and merely smiled. That could be a weakness, she noted. He might be far too self-assured to be pleasant. She leaned forward feigning a need to fix something on her shoe.
“It is such an annoyance when one’s slipper catches on one’s dress.” She had inhaled deeply as she had reached for her foot. He smelled very pleasant. She marked off good hygiene on her mental list. So far, he seemed a very likely candidate. “Sir Hugh,” she said situating herself back in a proper upright position. “You are a knight, not a baronet, is that correct?”
“It is, Miss de Bourgh.” He waited for her next question. Then, as she simply held his gaze, he determined that she might want a further explanation of his title. “There was a matter of some money owed that was forgiven and as a sign of gratitude, the title was bestowed.”
“You gamble?” That would be a sad thing, she was beginning to like looking at him and his voice was very pleasant.
“On occasion, but never more than I can afford and always when the prince demands it.”
She raised an eyebrow and contemplated that. “You are often with the p
rince?”
“No, no, I have only been invited to play with him a handful of times.”
She nodded. To be included in a group so close to the prince did have its merits. It was not as if this man had been born to it. “Never to excess?” She needed the reassurance. Debt was a very easy way for one man, and therefore, his whole family, to fall under the power of another.
“Never.” He assured. “My estate and legacy are far too valuable to risk on an evening’s entertainment.”
She smiled and relaxed just a bit. He did seem to know the proper answer to give. “And in what other forms of entertainment do you partake? The theatre? Concerts? Riding?”
“I do enjoy an invigorating ride either on horseback or in a curricle. I would be happy to escort you to the park on a drive.”
She tipped her head and bit her lip. He was the first to ask it of her, and his voice and that smile did make it hard to resist. She smiled. “I think I should like that Sir Hugh; however, and you must forgive me for being so forward, there are still two vices about which I must question you.”
He chuckled, and Anne suddenly became less concerned with his uprightness. “I do not drink to excess,” he said with a smile. “And I would never consider a mistress after I was married unless my wife made it necessary.” He smirked slightly as Anne’s eyes grew wide, and she blushed at what he implied. “So do I pass? Might I take you for a drive tomorrow?”
Anne bit her lip again and considered the invitation for what she deemed was an appropriate length of time before giving a small nod of her head and extending her hand. “You have succeeded so far as a ride is concerned. We are not yet acquainted well enough to determine if your suit shall succeed above all.”
He took her hand and instead of shaking it as she had extended it for him to do, he turned it and placed a kiss gently on her knuckles. “Until tomorrow at five, then, Miss de Bourgh,” he said as he rose.
Anne mumbled something in farewell. He cut quite a stirring figure as he left the room, and since all others had left, she did not bother to check her pleasure at watching him leave.
“He is quite acceptable, I think,” she said to Lady Sophia when the front door to Matlock House had closed behind Sir Hugh.
“He is rather attractive,” said her aunt.
Anne picked up his financial reports. “And he is both titled and wealthy.”
“He seems practiced,” said her aunt in an attempt to shed some less positive light on the man. To have Anne so enamoured with another would do Mr. Madoch no favours, and she did not particularly care for the look in Sir Hugh’s eyes. Perhaps she was being partial, but she did not particularly care. Mr. Madoch was the one who would love Anne as she deserved.
“He is two and thirty, Aunt Sophia. I expect a man of such age has had his share of experience in speaking to a woman.”
Lady Sophia huffed. “Not as smoothly as he spoke to you. I do not trust him, and I think you should take care.” She held up a hand to stop the protest Anne was beginning to make. “But I shall allow you to at least ride with him tomorrow. You must remember, however, that it is your uncle and I who have the final word as to whether he is acceptable.” She dipped her head to the side. “So, he must impress not only you but us as well.”
Anne sighed heavily.
“I love you, Anne,” said her aunt softly. “I do not wish for you to be unhappy, and if I fear he will shower you with pretty words now and neglect you later, I will not approve him. I have seen more of the world than you, my dear. I am not opposed to your seeing it, but I am opposed you being hurt by it.”
Anne nodded her understanding.
“What did you think of Sir Hugh, Catherine?” Lady Sophia turned toward her sister, who was still in the room but had been only allowed to have a chair in the far corner. Anne had not wanted her mother hovering.
“Oh, he seemed a fine choice. I would not mind him for a son at all.”
Lady Sophia bit back a smile as she watched Anne’s brows furrow slightly. Happily, she had guessed correctly that her sister would approve of a man such as Sir Hugh and in so doing, would assist her in lowering the gentleman as a choice in Anne’s eyes.
Lady Catherine rose to look out the window, leaning close to peer at the equipage making its way down the street. “A fine carriage and horses. It would make for a comfortable ride to and from Kent and wherever else his estate might be.”
“Mother, I am not selecting a driver. I am choosing a husband.”
“Oh, yes, yes,” Lady Catherine turned back toward Anne. “I know what you are doing, my dear. But, you shall need an elegant carriage in which to ride. Travel can be a strain and with your ill health…”
“My health is not a concern, Mother.” She narrowly refrained from telling her mother that her health had never truly been poor. Maladies had come and gone as needed to keep her free from her mother, so that she might enjoy her time as she pleased. “I find I have never felt so well in all my life. It must be all the activity and splendor of the season.”
Lady Catherine gave a disapproving huff. “If you keep too busy a schedule, you will soon find yourself once again in need of a doctor. I think you would do well to keep to your room for the evening. A long rest would see you certain to impress Sir Hugh on the morrow.” She looked around the room and waved her arm in an encompassing motion. “Will there be more of these calls?”
Much to Lady Sophia’s delight, Anne’s expression had grown to nearly a scowl as her mother’s voice gained excitement while talking of Sir Hugh.
“There will be more calls if more gentlemen come.” Anne’s voice was just on the edge of sharp. “I shall not just accept the first seemingly agreeable gentleman and be off to Gretna Green.”
“I should hope not!” cried Lady Catherine. “Such a scandal that would be! It is bad enough that you have advertised for a husband. Were you to hie off to Scotland, there would be no hope of establishing yourself in polite society.” She shook her head. “I cannot imagine what a gentleman is thinking by presenting himself to a lady as if he is a sample that needs to be purchased. Financial concerns should be left to the men. It is the way of things.”
“Yes, Mother,” Anne spoke through clenched teeth. She wished to point out to her mother that having a gentleman present his assets and credentials was not so different from a lady learning to dance and sing and perform so that she might be seen as an acceptable choice, but she knew that would only lead to a long and protracted argument and a sizeable headache. Neither were things she wished to endure, so instead she gave her aunt an imploring look. “Would it not be best if we were to retire to my apartment to review the particulars of each caller?”
Lady Sophia agreed and rose to follow Anne from the room. She had hoped to rid themselves of Lady Catherine in some way so that she might mention how lovely she found Mr. Madoch. She flipped through many of the papers that were in the stack. Silently, she wished to know Madoch’s value, so that she might compare it to the numbers on the papers. Perhaps her brother would know. He seemed familiar enough with Mr. Madoch.
“You can place them on this table, and we can sort them into three piles ─ acceptable and worth pursuing, worthy of a second consideration if needed, and without doubt to be never considered again.”
Lady Sophia held the papers out to her niece. “I am afraid I am not able to judge your opinion. However, the acceptable and those just missing acceptance will need to be reviewed by your uncle and me.”
Anne nodded her agreement and began shuffling the papers, the majority falling in the third contemptible pile.
“There do not seem to be many of whom you approve,” commented Lady Sophia settling herself into a chair at the table.
Anne sighed. “They are all so boring.” She pulled herself straight and wagged her head from side to side before speaking in an imitation of a dull gentleman. “Miss de Bourgh, as you can see, my financial reports are in good order. My father has seen to it that my education is good and the title to which I wil
l ascend is well protected. There shall not be a want of security. In fact, my title and my estate have been secure for many years.”
She turned to her aunt in exasperation. “And then they would prattle on about their family’s history and the number of sons that had been born and daughters that had been advantageously married. I did not need a history lesson at this meeting, but it seems they thought I did. I tried to stop some of them from proceeding, but it was to no avail. It was like speaking to my mother! And when I asked them about amusements, many had to think for several minutes before entering an original thought that had not been given to them by their fathers.”
She placed the last paper in a pile. “Sir Hugh was the first to offer anything remotely interesting by way of a drive. Not one of the other gentlemen thought to do so. It was as if they did not enjoy speaking to me at all, as if it were a mere formality that must be completed.”
Lady Sophia chuckled softly as Anne flung herself onto a sofa. “That is what you requested ─ a responsible first born son. The more adventurous heir is often given to wild ways and excesses which do not lead to financial soundness or particularly virtuous behaviour. Mr. Blackmoore would be an excellent example of an undesirable, yet interesting heir, I should think.”
Anne agreed with her aunt. Lord Blackmoore was not the sort of heir for whom she was looking, but certainly there must be some gentleman somewhere that fit her requirements and was not completely uninteresting. Perhaps — “Lord Brownlow is not a bore, but he did not present a file. He came merely as a friend.” She sighed and draped an arm across her eyes, blocking out the light that was beginning to increase the small pain in her head. “I wish he would have brought his papers. I quite like him, and a lord is better than a sir.”