Complications

by Clare Jayne

  “I am glad. How is Mr Harrington’s arm?”

  “The doctor says he is entirely satisfied that it is healing properly. Benjy has to wear a sling, which he does not like, but it will not be for long. Have you decided which dress to wear to the ball?”

  “Not yet.” She would have to look her best: Mr Wrackley would very likely be there.

  * * *

  This ball was less select than Lady Treeton’s had been, the upper classes mixing with wealthy businessmen and the more distinguished academics; the Scottish accents of the middle and working classes mixing with the English accents of the upper class. However, there were handsome men to talk to, pretty dresses to admire and music to dance to so Amelia was content.

  She saw Mr Harrington and Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge talking, Benjamin looking so happy and Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge so fond that she had great hopes for them. Lottie, her parents beside her, was talking to Mr Brightford. Well, that would not do. Mr Brightford would likely never marry anyone and certainly he was far too sharp and bad-tempered for Lottie. She was about to go over and get Lottie away from him when she saw Mr Alexander Fenbridge approach her; a moment later they left together to go to dance. Mr Alexander Fenbridge was a little older than she would have liked for Lottie, perhaps thirty, but this was not an unreasonable age difference. He had been charming so far and had seemed to show a liking for Lottie, although it was difficult to tell as he seemed more reticent than Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge. She remembered how charming Saverney - the rat - had seemed and wished Mr Alexander Fenbridge was not a stranger to the area; the character of a local man would be easier to find out, although again Mr Saverney had deceived everyone.

  A voice spoke her name and she recognised it at once and turned to greet Mr Wrackley, trying not to look or sound too eager, or too disinterested. She gave a smile that was hopefully friendly but not excessive. “I am glad to see you again, Mr Wrackley.”

  “You cannot be as glad as I am.”

  She had had such flattery fifty times in the past but it had never been anything beyond a pleasant boost to her self-esteem. Now, when Mr Wrackley said any such thing to her she wanted to laugh or throw herself into his arms. This would not do at all. She sternly told herself to be calm. “Are you enjoying your stay in Edinburgh?”

  “It is growing more pleasant by the second.”

  This comment made her feel over-warm and flustered. “And have you visited all the sights?”

  “Honestly, I prefer to converse, ride or dance than visit museums or libraries. Does that sound shallow to you?”

  “I hope not since I feel much the same way myself.”

  As the previous music finally came to an end, Mr Wrackley’s dark eyes scanned the dance list. “Ah, finally a cotillian. May I request the great honour of this dance with you, Miss Daventry, if you are free?”

  She was not but Benjamin would certainly not object to the reprieve. “I would be delighted.”

  They took their places and the music began. Whenever the dance required him to touch her waist or hand she was acutely aware of the warmth of his hand and of the tingling sensation his touch produced in her body. She had never felt such awareness of another person and their eyes frequently met in gazes that sent pleasurable thrills up and down her spine.

  The dance, although some fifteen minutes long with this many couples, was over far too soon and they walked through the crowds away from the dance floor.

  She fanned herself, suddenly made light-headed by the extreme heat of the room. Mr Wrackley at once offered his arm and said, “Shall we stand by the doorway to the garden? It might be cooler.”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  It was a little less warm by the open doors. “There are people out on the balcony,” Mr Wrackley said. “If you are still warm it would not be improper for us to go outside.”

  She agreed and, once there, felt a lot better. Mr Wrackley left to fetch her a drink and she stood looking in at the ballroom brightly lit by a vast candelabra and full of talking and dancing guests. No wonder she had felt faint: half of Edinburgh looked to be there. She saw Lottie on Mr Alexander Fenbridge’s arm, moving away from the dance area, only to be stopped by Mr Brightford and head back again with him. She smiled, happy that her friend was enjoying the evening.

  Her smile faded as she watched the dance begin. Given his attention at this ball and the last one they had attended, Amelia wondered if Mr Brightford could possibly be interested in courting Lottie. It was a thought that alarmed her. Lottie would never be able to cope with his insults and bad temper. No, she told herself, it was far more likely that he actually did possess a speck of goodness and was being kind to Lottie.

  She thought that the same was probably, unfortunately, true of Mr Alexander Fenbridge. He seemed to like Lottie but showed no sign of great admiration, let alone love. This meant that the chances of Lottie gaining a husband this season were rapidly diminishing and Amelia was afraid that if Lottie did not get over Saverney’s desertion now then she might always feel tainted by it and by the censure of society and never marry.

  Mr Wrackley returned with two drinks and she forgot about the presence of anyone else as she thanked him and sipped the lemonade, feeling a strange awareness of his body next to hers. She had never experienced anything like the sensations he aroused in her. It was frightening yet also exciting.

  “Would you tell me something of your home?”

  He smiled down at her, cheeks dimpling. “What do you wish to know?”

  “Something of your life. I do not even know your favourite pastimes or what family you have.” It seemed impossible that she actually knew so little when she felt such a strong connection to him.

  “I enjoy riding. I have a fondness for cards but I do not gamble excessively. My parents are dead but I have three sisters, two older than me and one younger, along with two younger brothers.”

  “How pleasant. I think I should have liked siblings, although I do think of Lottie like a sister.”

  “And your preferred pastimes?”

  “I can think of nothing in the world more pleasant than this evening.” As soon as the words slipped out she realised it might be improper to suggest his company meant so much to her so soon, but Mr Wrackley looked far from censorious.

  His gaze grew more intense, dark gaze as warm as a fire. “I can think of nothing save how beautiful you are.”

  They gazed at each other and she savoured every moment and drank in everything about his face.

  “There you are, Amelia!”

  She jumped at her mother’s voice, loud and dry, and just in front of them, in the open doorway.

  “I felt a little faint, Mama.” She did not know why she should feel guilty. They had not done anything wrong. “Mr Wrackley just brought me outside and fetched me a drink while I recovered.”

  “If you have done so I think we had better return to the other guests.”

  They followed her inside, joining Lottie, Benjamin, Mr Brightford, Mr Alexander Fenbridge, Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge and the newly married Mr and Mrs McIvett. The lady was no older than Amelia and the man of no great fortune, but Mrs McIvett was assuming the grandest of airs.

  “We had our honeymoon in London, of course. There is nowhere better in the world than our country’s great capital.”

  “I thought we were already in our country’s capital,” Mr Brightford commented in a slightly bored tone, causing Amelia to feel a momentary warmth towards him.

  “Oh, you know what I meant, Mr Brightford,” Mrs McIvett simpered, swatting him with her fan. “Do not tease.”

  Amelia winced at this over-familiarity, particularly with Mr Brightford of all people. He did not respond to the comment but looked even more pained than usual.

  Lottie broke the silence by asking what they had liked best about London. She was clearly just being polite and there was nothing hostile in her tone, far from it, but Mrs McIvett looked at her with a cool smile.

  “Naturally, my husband’s presence at my side
gave me the greatest pleasure. Some of us do not scare off our gentlemen.”

  Lottie froze at the words and, worse, a few of the nearby ladies were cruel enough as to laugh.

  Amelia glared at Mrs McIvett. “How fortunate for you that your husband is so easy to please. Come, Charlotte, your mama is looking for you.”

  She led Lottie away by the hand and her friend held on tightly.

  “Everyone here will have heard of Mrs McIvett’s comment by tomorrow,” Lottie whispered in a shaky voice.

  “And everyone will know the contempt with which we treated it. That woman is not worthy of another thought. You are worth a thousand of her.”

  “I do not think that is true.” Lottie still looked on the brink of tears.

  “Then you must take my word for it.” She paused to allow Benjamin and Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge to catch up with them.

  “Miss Harrington,” Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge said with a smile. “This reel is one of my favourites. Would you be so kind as to dance with me?”

  Amelia saw Lottie hesitate and squeezed her hand, giving a slight nod when Lottie glanced at her. The very best way to halt any more gossip was for Lottie to seen to be having a pleasant evening and not paying Mrs McIvett’s words any mind.

  Lottie fixed a smile on her face, where it sat over her distress like a mask, and allowed herself to be led once more onto the dance floor.

  “Do you wish to dance?” Benjamin asked Amelia with his usual reluctance.

  She laughed. “No. I will spare you that just now.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Thank you for not challenging Mrs McIvett to a duel.”

  He grinned and indicated his sling. “Well, I am not quite recovered from the last one but give me a day or two and who knows who I might challenge next.”

  * * *

  Wrackley got into the carriage with a dreamy expression and Mr Brightford suppressed the urge to sigh with annoyance. His cousins had left in their own carriage so it was just the two of them. He had seen Wrackley running round after Miss Daventry tonight and guessed that he was another who had fallen prey to her charms.

  He had seen her turn cool with a couple of her young admirers, casting them off without a backwards glance, but clearly Wrackley had enough wealth to be taken seriously.

  He could not understand why a kind-hearted girl like Miss Harrington should suffer the miseries of a broken engagement and such cruel comments as the one she had endured earlier tonight, when a heartless creature like Miss Daventry had her pick of the best of the gentlemen.

  Miss Daventry might be lovely - she was in fact the most beautiful woman he had ever seen - but last year he had overheard her intention to wed the wealthiest man she could find. He had been appalled to realise her so ruthless.

  He liked Wrackley and, should it come to that, would pity him if he ended up married to someone so cold-hearted.

  As if this thought had been his prompt, Wrackley looked up from his reverie with a smile and said in an awed tone, “Do you not think that Miss Daventry is the most beautiful and charming lady in existence?”

  Brightford unhappily delivered the blow: “I regret to have to say that I have found that lady to be the most heartless, fortune-hunting schemer I have ever encountered.”

  The smile dropped from Wrackley’s face.

  The rest of the carriage journey went by in silence.

  Chapter Nine

  AMELIA WONDERED, as she lay in bed the morning after the ball, when Mr Wrackley would ask her to marry him.

  Would he kneel down to propose? How ever he did it she was certain it would be the most romantic moment of her life.

  They would be so happy together. It would be strange living in England instead of Scotland - she would greatly miss Lottie and her parents but they would all visit her often and she, them. She and Mr Wrackley would be able to visit London whenever they pleased, which would be bliss. She would visit the best modiste in London and would look so beautiful in her new clothes that, when he saw her, Mr Wrackley would exclaim in amazement…

  Of course, he might not be wealthy enough for her to buy all the things she had spent years imagining or to visit all the places she had heard of. She had no idea whether he was rich or no better off than her own parents. Unbelievably, she did not care.

  She understood now why Lottie had spoken of falling in love as if nothing else mattered. Amelia just wanted a lifetime with Mr Wrackley. She giggled as she realised she did not even know his first name.

  How strange life was, and how perfect.

  * * *

  “Have you heard the news about Mr Saverney?”

  They were strolling in the garden behind Benjamin’s home. His heart - which had bloomed at the arrival of Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge - sunk down towards his stomach. The words had been spoken hesitantly and he feared the worst. “What has the skunk done now?”

  “He and his family have left Edinburgh. Brightford heard from friends of his mother that they will be spending time at their country estate and will likely not return this year.”

  Benjamin took in this news with pleasure. “My sister will be relieved not to have to worry about seeing him and perhaps the gossip about the broken engagement will finally fade away. Thank you for informing me of this.”

  “Brightford was going to tell you himself but, when I said I wished to drop by, he allowed me to share the news.” He took a step closer and Benjamin’s heart once more became erratic. “I hope this will be the start of happier times for your family.”

  “I have nothing to complain of for myself. I am pleased to have had the opportunity to make your acquaintance.” The words were inadequate – conveying but a fraction of his feelings on the matter – but brought a sunny smile to Mr Fenbridge’s face.

  “As am I.”

  “Has Brightford showed you around Edinburgh to your satisfaction? I would be happy to escort you in any further sight-seeing you wish to do.”

  “I appreciate that. It is more the countryside outside the city I am curious to see.”

  “We could go riding?” Benjamin suggested, keen for as much of Mr Fenbridge’s company as could be achieved. “Perhaps take a picnic. There are some excellent views from some of the nearby hills.”

  “That sounds perfect. It is a lovely dry day today…”

  Benjamin nodded in agreement. “I will have our cook prepare some food to take and, while that is being done, perhaps you will tell me more of your brother’s estate.”

  “Gladly.”

  * * *

  Amelia heard footsteps on the stairs and remembered with pleasure that Lottie was due to call. Suddenly she could not wait to tell her friend all about Mr Wrackley. She had waited because she wanted to be certain of her feelings but now it seemed incomprehensible that she had ever had any doubts.

  There was a knock on her door and the maid announced Lottie, who then entered.

  Amelia - who had been sitting on a chair in the library reading a romance aloud to her cat - got to her feet. She smiled at Lottie then looked closely at her, concerned. “You are pale - are you ill?”

  “No, I am well.” They both sat down. “It was foolish of me but I lay awake after the ball thinking of Mrs McIvett’s insult.”

  With a pang of guilt, Amelia realised she had entirely forgotten about this. “She is just a silly, spiteful woman and does not deserve a second thought.”

  “Others might have been too polite to speak as she did but how many were thinking something similar?”

  “You must not think like that. You must forget the past and think that likely the happiest years of your life are all ahead of you.”

  Lottie bit her lip. “Apparently Mr Saverney and his family have left to stay at their country estate, probably for the rest of the year.”

  “That is excellent news.” Amelia said, happy that he had finally had the good sense to know where he was not wanted. “All the more reason for you to make a resolution to start anew.”

  Lottie nodded. “No
w that Benjy is recovering I will try to do so.”

  “You are long overdue for happiness and you will find it soon, I am certain.”

  Lottie gave a smile, at once looking more like her old self.

  “I have some good news I hope you will be pleased about,” Amelia said. “I am in love.”

  “With whom?” Lottie asked, eyes lighting up, then guessed, “Mr Wrackley?”

  “Yes. Every time I have seen him he has been attentive and admiring, last night most of all. We talked all evening and he never took his eyes off me. It was perfect. I am sure he will propose soon.”

  “That is wonderful. I am so happy for you.”

  Amelia saw that Lottie really meant this and suddenly felt sick as she recalled her own reaction to Lottie’s engagement. She had always known that Lottie was a better person than her but she had never wanted to correct her own shortcomings before. It did not seem fair that Amelia should be on the verge such joy when Lottie had endured such misery.

  “Tell me more,” Lottie begged, animated.

  “It makes me so happy just to be near him. I have never felt such things,” Amelia confessed. “It scares me at times.”

  “I could not be more glad for you. Do your parents know how you feel?”

  “I believe my mother knows I have a preference for him but I doubt she has guessed that I love him. Do you think I should say something to them?”

  “I am sure you know best, but it might be awkward if Mr Wrackley called to ask your father for his permission to marry you and your father did not know that you would welcome it.”

  “Indeed you are right. I will speak to them today.”

  “I am sure they will be delighted.”

  “I hope so. I have no idea of the size of Mr Wrackley’s estate or of his wealth or otherwise and, Lottie, I do not care.”

  Lottie was, of course, well acquainted with her feelings on the matter of money, and looked suitably astonished. “How extraordinary.”

  “I know. I always used to think I was so sensible but such considerations seem unimportant next to my love for him.”