A Desirable Husband

by Mary Nichols

  ‘Oh, you ladies are so stiff with protocol, it is a wonder you manage to do anything, but if you will not take her as a gift, then I will keep her for you to ride whenever you want to. Will that satisfy the proprieties?’

  ‘I don’t know. I shall have to ask Rosemary.’

  ‘If she was going to object, she would have done so at once, don’t you think?’ he queried. ‘Now, let us forget about it for today. Enjoy riding her and we will talk of it again when you have answered my other question.’

  ‘Other question?’

  ‘The one I put to you on the way home from the park the other day. You promised to give it serious thought.’

  ‘I am still pondering on the meaning of it.’

  ‘Meaning? I thought I made it clear that I was offering you marriage.’

  ‘You did not say so.’

  ‘I certainly was not suggesting anything else.’ He sounded affronted.

  She should have told him immediately she would never consider marrying him, but to spend the rest of the day with a disappointed and perhaps irritable man was more than she was prepared to do. ‘In that case, I will give the offer the careful consideration it deserves, but please do not expect an answer today.’

  He did not seem to notice the deliberately ambiguous way she had framed her answer. ‘Very well. Shall we say the day of your ball? It would be an appropriate time to make an announcement, don’t you think?’

  ‘You shall have your answer by then.’

  They were passing through what had once been open fields with a few houses dotted along the road, but new housing and businesses had begun filling in the gaps and very soon, Esme realised, Hammersmith would soon become part of the great metropolis. It was not easy to talk because the road was busy and they were often forced into single file. In a way Esme was glad of the chance to be alone with her thoughts. She tried to imagine herself married to Edward Gorridge, being held in his arms, sleeping with him, sitting opposite him at breakfast, directing the army of servants at Linwood Park, and failed utterly. Images of someone else kept getting in the way. She wondered where he was, if he was thinking about their last encounter. She had not handled it at all well and had learned nothing at all, except that he did have a secret and that secret involved Ma’amselle Lefavre. She was tempted to ask Lord Gorridge if he knew anything about it, but decided against it. She had a notion that anything his lordship said would be biased.

  It was when they stopped to rest the horses and allow them to drink at the trough by the river bank that they were joined by Mr Ashbury driving Juliette in a phaeton and Captain Merton and Bertie Wincombe on horseback. ‘The other ladies have cried off,’ Ashbury said. ‘On account of the news.’

  ‘What news?’ Rosemary asked.

  ‘About Sir Robert Peel. You must have heard he was thrown from his horse last Saturday?’

  ‘Yes, indeed we did, but I cannot see why that should make their ladyships cancel today’s outing, unless…’ She paused. ‘Oh, do not tell me the poor man has died of his injuries.’

  ‘Yes, afraid so.’

  ‘Oh, dear, how shocking. Rowan, what do you suppose we should do?’

  ‘I ought to return,’ he said. ‘But that means taking the carriage and you would have to come with me.’

  ‘Then we would all have to return. I cannot let Esme go on without me.’

  ‘I do not mind in the least if you think we should,’ Esme said.

  ‘Oh, please do not deprive your sister of her outing,’ Edward put in. ‘She has been so looking forward to it and I have sent a couple of servants on ahead in a dogcart with all the picnic things. They will be expecting us.’

  ‘My lord,’ Victor said, addressing Viscount Trent. ‘If you feel you must return, I would be pleased to offer you my phaeton if you would allow Miss Lefavre and me into your carriage with Lady Trent and Miss Bannister.’

  Rowan looked dubious. ‘What do you think, my dear?’ he asked his wife.

  ‘It would be a pity to cancel the picnic after Lord Gorridge has gone to so much trouble.’

  ‘Very well.’

  The exchange was made; Victor and Juliette settled themselves opposite Rosemary in the carriage and the little procession continued on its way. As they approached the bridge, they had a view of Richmond and the wooded area of Richmond Hill and a building standing on a prominence which Edward said was the famous Star and Garter hostelry, beloved of Mr Dickens. Having crossed the bridge and entered Richmond, they found the builders had been at work here too and it was rapidly growing into a small town. Moving on up the hill, they entered the Great Park at one in the afternoon, nearly an hour later than Edward had intended.

  His servants were already in the spot he had chosen almost at the top of the hill, which gave a wonderful view of the countryside, woods and meadows and the river, winding its way towards London. The air was sweet and clean after the smoke-laden atmosphere of the town and everyone, dismounting or getting down from the carriage, filled their lungs with it and turned their faces to the cloudless sky.

  ‘Everything is ready,’ Edward said. ‘I hope the ride has given you an appetite.’ He waved his hand at the rugs spread on the ground beneath the shade of an oak tree and a white cloth loaded with food: pies, chickens, hams, salads and cakes. Nearby on a small folding table were set out bottles of wine and glasses.

  The food, served by a footman in the Gorridge livery and a maid in a blue check dress and snowy apron, was delicious and everyone did it justice, except Esme, who had little appetite of late. Afterwards, while Lady Trent and Miss Bannister took their ease, the younger members of the party went for a walk. There were deer in the park which Esme had been told were tame enough to take food from her hand, and she took some crumbled pie for them. But they shied away when she approached them. ‘We are too many,’ she said, discarding the pie and hurrying to catch up with the others who had continued on their way.

  They were walking round the ponds where anglers were fishing when Esme found herself beside Juliette. She felt she ought to make some conversation, but hardly knew how to begin when all she felt was curiosity about where Felix was and why the lady was being accompanied by Mr Ashbury.

  ‘Are you enjoying your stay in England?’ she asked at last.

  ‘Yes. It is very different but I must learn your ways if I am to make my ’ome ’ere.’

  ‘Are you? Going to live here permanently, I mean.’

  ‘Yes. Felix cannot live abroad now he is the baron, can ’e?’

  ‘Oh.’ She paused to make a huge effort to gather herself. ‘When is the wedding to be?’

  ‘We ’ave not decided. Soon, I ’ope.’

  ‘Then allow me to felicitate you.’

  ‘Thank you, my lady. I ’ope soon to felicitate you, n’est-ce pas?’

  ‘Oh, it is too soon for that,’ she said, and hurried to join Captain Merton and Edward who were ambling ahead of her, but before she reached them her footsteps slowed. She was in no mood for conversation of any kind and wanted desperately to be alone. She turned along a second path that led into the trees, hoping no one would miss her. If she had ever looked forward to the outing, it was spoiled for her now. Felix was betrothed to Juliette and even if he wished he was not, he could not break off the engagement without a terrible scandal. Was that what he had been hinting at when he said there were things he could not tell her? As if she would think of marrying him after that! She had been right to be angry.

  She stumbled on, her eyes so full of tears she could hardly see where she was going. She wanted comfort, but there was no comfort to be had. Rosemary would give her none; Rosemary had known what Lord Pendlebury was like from the first. It was a pity she hadn’t believed her and had allowed herself to be ensnared.

  ‘Lady Esme, where are you going?’ Edward was calling after her.

  She did not turn round and, if anything, her pace increased, but it was not enough to lose him. He caught her arm. ‘Did you miss your way?’

  Obliged to stop,
she turned to her tear-streaked face towards him.

  ‘Whatever is the matter? Oh, my dear, tell me what is wrong.’ He took her into his arms and held her close. ‘Whatever it is, I shall put it right for you. Trust me.’

  If he had not said those two words, she would have succumbed, allowed herself to be comforted, but those two words, trust me, had reminded her of Felix. If he had not refused to tell her the truth about Juliette, she would have trusted him and that would have been a mistake. Almost had. She dared not risk it again. She scrubbed at her eyes and pulled away from him. ‘Nothing’s the matter. I caught my foot in a rabbit hole.’

  ‘Let me look at it.’

  ‘Certainly not!’

  ‘Very well. Lean on me and I will escort you back to the carriage.’ He was smiling, but it was not a smile she found agreeable; it reminded her of a cat with a bowl of cream. ‘You know you can always lean on me.’

  Caught in her own trap, she hobbled along with her hand on his shoulder and his arm about her waist. They emerged from the trees not far from the carriage. Rosemary, on seeing them, scrambled to her feet and went to meet them. ‘Esme, what has happened?’

  ‘Lady Esme caught her foot in a rabbit hole, my lady. Perhaps you should look at it.’

  ‘Yes, take her to the carriage.’

  He lifted her onto the seat and stood back as Rosemary stepped up behind her. ‘Thank you, my lord,’ Esme said, dismissing him.

  ‘Now, let us have a look at that foot,’ Rosemary said, as soon as he had gone

  Esme kicked off her shoe and poked out a foot.

  ‘There doesn’t seem to be much wrong with it, Esme.’

  ‘It’s better now.’

  ‘There never was anything wrong with it, was there?’

  Esme had never been able to lie successfully and though she protested, Rosemary simply laughed. ‘It was a ploy to get Lord Gorridge to help you along, wasn’t it? Oh, Esme, you are so transparent. But never mind, I will not give you away. What did he say to you?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You mean he did not propose?’

  ‘Oh, he did that before.’

  ‘He did?’ her sister queried in astonishment. ‘When?’

  ‘The other morning when we met in the park and again today when we set out.’

  ‘And what did you say?’

  ‘I said I would think about it and let him know before my ball.’

  ‘Oh, good, then we can make the announcement then. It will be a fitting end to your season.’

  ‘I have not said I will accept him.’

  ‘But you will, I am sure you will. He has everything a lady could desire: looks, manners, wealth and a title. What more do you want?’

  There were, she decided, different aspects to that word desire. ‘I want my husband to love me.’

  ‘That will come. He is a proud man and would not risk declaring himself in love in case you should reject him. He would not want to be humiliated as Lucy humiliated him, would he? Now, am I to say you are too injured to ride back and must ride in the coach or will you have made a miraculous recovery?’

  Lord Gorridge’s escort was better than enduring her sister’s endless matchmaking and especially the presence of Ma’amselle Lefavre. ‘I can ride.’

  ‘Then as soon as the others come back, I think we should make a start. I’ll send Lord Gorridge to hurry them along.’

  The return was accomplished in less time than the outward journey because they did not stop either to rest or for Edward to point out landmarks and they arrived at Trent House at six in the evening. The ladies left the carriage and Edward helped Esme to dismount and kissed her hand. ‘I wish you a speedy recovery,’ he said, maintaining the fiction that she had hurt her foot. ‘And hope to see you out and about again very soon.’

  Rosemary was effusive in her thanks to him for arranging everything and apologetic that the others had not come and so much food had been wasted, but he shrugged it off as of no importance. Mr Ashbury’s phaeton was brought round from the mews and everyone parted. Esme, leaning on Miss Bannister for support, followed Rosemary into the house and breathed a sigh of relief.

  But the day’s revelations were not over. When she went down to the drawing room in response to the dinner bell, she found Rowan telling Rosemary about Sir Robert’s demise. ‘The fatal injury was caused when his horse stumbled over him as he lay on the ground,’ he said. ‘Prince Albert is apparently most upset. Apart from his admiration for him as a politician, he was his principal ally for the Great Exhibition. There is talk of it being scrapped in deference to his memory.’

  ‘So, we shall not have to endure the upheaval, after all,’ Rosemary said. ‘I wonder what will happen to all the money they have been collecting.’

  ‘Presumably, it will have to be returned, whatever has not been spent on preliminaries, that is. I believe that has been considerable.’

  ‘How can they return money collected in pennies and shillings from the workers?’ Esme asked him. ‘I don’t suppose there is a record of who gave what. And they will be so disappointed. And what about all those people who are preparing exhibits and arranging for them to be transported?’ She couldn’t help it, her thoughts flew to Felix as she spoke. He was preparing an exhibit. Would she ever see it now? Did she want to? What would he make of all this talk of cancellation?

  ‘They will have to find other ways of showing off their wares,’ Rowan said.

  ‘Myles will not be pleased, nor Lord Pendlebury. They both invested heavily.’

  ‘Myles is rich enough not to be concerned. As for Pendlebury, he might very well be ruined.’

  ‘Oh, no, surely not.’

  ‘I have been told by the Commissioner of Police that a certain Patrick Connelly, a troublemaker they have been watching for some time, has been arrested and found in possession of a money draft made out to him on Lord Pendlebury’s account. It is very damning, although it is being kept quiet for the moment in the hope he will lead them to others.’

  Esme, who had been standing in the middle of the room, sank on to a sofa and stifled a cry by putting her fist to her mouth.

  ‘I always did say he was queer fish,’ Rosemary said, looking hard at Esme. ‘And that silly French woman went on and on about how wonderful he was while we were coming home in the carriage, I had to tell her I had a headache and wanted it to be quiet. They are a pair made for each other, if you ask me.’

  The butler came to tell them dinner was served. Esme let her sister and brother-in-law go in alone. She could not have eaten a bite without choking and excused herself, saying she felt unwell. ‘I think I was in the sun too long this afternoon,’ she said and fled to her room.

  She found Miss Bannister tidying her day clothes away. ‘Aren’t you going in to dinner?’ she asked.

  ‘No. Oh, Banny, I am so miserable.’ She flung herself on her bed and covered her face with her hands.

  Miss Bannister sat beside her and pulled her hands down so that she could look into her tear-wet face. ‘Tell Banny all about it.’

  She had to tell someone and it all poured out, leaving Banny gasping with shock. ‘Miss Esme, you should never have allowed him to kiss you.’

  ‘I couldn’t help it and, oh, Banny, it was so wonderful. I never felt anything like that before, all tingling and cherished. It wasn’t sordid or repugnant or anything like that. I would never at that time have believed ill of him—’ She stopped suddenly. ‘It is strange, but the more people castigate him and blacken his character, the more I want to defend him. Is that very perverse of me?’

  ‘It sounds as if you do not believe the rumours.’

  ‘But that means someone is lying.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But why?’

  Miss Bannister shrugged. ‘Why do people lie? Jealousy, perhaps, envy, hate, to divert attention from what they are up to themselves, to make themselves look better, for power, monetary gain, take your pick.’

  ‘And Ma’amselle Lefavre—why would she s
ay they were engaged if they were not? She made it perfectly clear to me that they were planning to marry.’

  ‘Then you must either believe her or believe him.’

  ‘I don’t know what to believe.’

  ‘I cannot tell you. You are a sensible girl, so trust your instinct.’

  Her instinct was to believe Felix, but how trustworthy was her instinct? ‘And if I say I believe Lord Pendlebury, then Rowan is not telling the truth and Ma’amselle Lefavre is a liar.’

  ‘Lord Trent has only repeated what others have told him. As for that Frenchwoman—’ She stopped.

  ‘You rode in the coach with her, what did you think? And do not tell me it is not for you to think. You are my friend, you have looked after me all my life and if there is one person I do trust, besides Mama and Papa, it is you.’

  ‘I could not take to her. There is something underhand about her. How a nice gentleman like Lord Pendlebury ever got into her clutches, I do not know.’

  ‘Oh, Banny!’ Esme’s eyes were shining through the tears that still lay on her lashes. ‘You have given me hope.’

  ‘It is only my opinion, child, and perhaps I am not a good judge.’

  ‘I have to find Lord Pendlebury…’

  ‘Now, Miss Esme, I hope you are not going to do anything foolish and cause a scandal. It would not be fair on Lord Pendlebury when he is already fighting for his good name.’

  The old lady’s words subdued her. Talking to Felix again was not going to be so easy as it had been the first time. He would not want to talk to her after her parting words in the park and she was never without an escort. If it was not Rosemary, it was Viscount Gorridge. ‘I know.’ It was said with a sigh.

  ‘You must rely on meeting him at some social occasion and somehow contrive to let him know you regret your quarrel. More than that you must not do.’

  ‘But what social occasion? Will he still be acceptable in society?’

  ‘It depends how far the rumours have spread. If Lord Trent has been told in confidence, it might not be so bad.’

  ‘Then I shall encourage Rosemary to accept every invitation she possibly can, though if she is not feeling well…Oh, why is life so complicated?’