by Clare Jayne
“There is a way but since Amelia specifically said she did not wish for your advice, you will have to keep thinking.” He began to walk out but turned when Brightford called after him.
“I do heartily regret my words.”
Benjamin nodded. “Did it never occur to you that, like you, there is far more to Miss Daventry than can easily be ascertained at a ball or other diversion. She is intelligent and kind but those are sides of her that are not seen unless one takes the time to get to know her.”
He left Brightford to ponder these words.
* * *
Lottie’s affectionate letter had left Amelia feeling more lonely than ever but she now thought of the upcoming visit and wedding with more interest than she had felt in anything since her father’s death.
Of course, the hateful Mr Brightford would be attending the wedding too but she could not avoid him forever and why should she? She was not the one in the wrong. And yet what had given him the idea she might be interested in Mr Wrackley for his money? It was not true but she had thought of men in mercenary terms in the past. She had told herself she was being practical but had she instead been callous or greedy? Yet Benjamin had understood and not condemned her.
She did not know what to think, except that Mr Brightford had now beaten Mr Saverney as the most unpleasant man she had ever met.
Chapter Seventeen
“MADAM, I BELIEVE I owe you an apology.”
Her mother was out visiting friends so Amelia had reluctantly agreed to speak to Mr Brightford when he called at the house. She could have refused him since it was not proper for her to see him without a chaperone – she had already waived this rule for Benjamin and Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge but that was because she wanted to. She considered sending him away but curiosity got the better of her so she joined him in the drawing room.
His tone was uncomfortable as he made his apology and she wondered if he actually meant it or had been persuaded to say this by his friends. She sat down and he did the same. “You believe, sir? You have doubts then?”
“No. I do owe you an apology and my sincere regrets for what I said about you to Mr Wrackley.”
“Because it was ungentlemanly or because it was untrue?”
“Both.”
She frowned, surprised by this capitulation and wondering what Benjamin had said to him to bring it about. “You have had an extremely sudden change of heart about my character then?”
“Yes… I mean, not exactly. I think part of my initial concerns were reasonable but… no, I do not mean that…”
“I am at a loss to understand what you do mean,” she said, anger rising. “You apparently believed me to be a heartless mercenary only interested in money.”
“Well, I had heard you talk about money before…”
Loathsome man! This was his idea of an apology? “Is it a sin to speak of money?”
“I thought it unladylike but that is not the point…”
“On the contrary, I am fascinated to learn how you came to feel you were an expert judge on perfection of character. Are you without flaw of any kind?”
“No, not at all.”
“Then what right did you have to ruin my future happiness and make up your mind I was some evil person?”
“None at all. I apologise…”
She slapped him as hard as she could, the sound loud in the sudden silence. Her hand immediately stung and after a moment she realised what she had done. She stared at Mr Brightford in horror then turned and fled.
* * *
Brightford watched Amelia run up the stairs then heard the sound of a door banging shut.
His face was sore where she had slapped him but he wanted to tell her he did not blame her for the action. What an utter mess he had made of that apology. She had deserved his deepest regret over what he had done, not his censure for matters which she was right in saying he had no business to judge.
He had come here with every intention of offering his abject regrets over his words but somehow it had all gone wrong. He walked into the hallway where the butler handed him his hat and cane with a look that said good riddance.
He felt thoroughly uncomfortable as he headed out to his curricle. Miss Daventry was an argumentative woman, surely that could not be denied. She had seemed determined to quarrel… or perhaps she had just doubted his sincerity, which again he could not fault her on.
He wondered if his cheek was red from the blow she had landed. She had certainly put her full force behind it.
He drove around the nearby park, not acknowledging that he wanted some extra time before facing Nathan with the confession of how utterly he had botched the visit. If he was unlucky Harrington would be there too, both of them keen to tell him what an idiot he was.
As he finally headed home, there was one thing he was certain of: Miss Daventry brought out the worst in him and their trip together to his cousin’s wedding was going to be a nightmare…
* * *
Amelia sat on the chair in her bedroom and stared blankly at the wallpaper opposite her. She could not believe she had slapped Mr Brightford. While he had certainly provoked her with his critical, half-hearted apology, nothing could justify her reaction. Now she owed him an apology but that would meant raising the subject and she felt humiliated just thinking of it. What was even worse was that she had now justified his low opinion of her character.
She was only half aware of the sound of a carriage pulling up somewhere outside, not paying it any attention until several minutes later when there was a loud knock upon their front door.
She walked downstairs as the butler admitted a middle-aged but beautifully dressed lady to the house. She was tall and dark-haired with the air of someone who knew her own importance. Mrs Daventry crossed the hall to greet the stranger as Amelia got to the bottom of the stairs.
“You wrote to inform me of my brother’s death,” the woman said in a loud voice, in answer to Mrs Daventry’s enquiry about her visit. “I am Mrs Gallerton.”
Papa’s estranged sister. The one he had not spoken to since before Amelia had been born.
“It is kind of you to call on us…” Mrs Daventry began.
“Nonsense,” Mrs Gallerton cut over her. “I should have come when Richard was still alive but there is nothing to be done about that now and at least I can get to know you and your daughter.” Her sharp eyes took in Amelia in her black dress and she beckoned her forward. “Come here, young lady, and tell me your name.”
Amelia did as she was told, amused that she seemed to have a relation even more forthright and opinionated than herself.
Chapter Eighteen
AFTER FIVE DAYS of Mrs Gallerton’s company Amelia was no longer amused; in fact she was close to screaming.
Mrs Gallerton expressed her opinions on every subject, frequently telling them ways they could improve their home or get more work out of the servants and clearly expecting them to immediately jump to obey her. Of course, neither Mama nor herself had done any such thing, leading to some tense moments.
In other circumstances Amelia might have shaken it off and found her aunt interesting, but neither Mama nor herself were at their best right now and Mrs Gallerton seemed intent on making their lives more difficult instead of easier.
While the three of them were in the dining room for afternoon tea, Amelia brought up the subject of Lottie’s wedding to her mother. She had been worried about doing so, uncertain as to whether her mother would want the long journey or consider the wedding too frivolous an event to attend while they were in mourning. As it turned out she need not have been concerned.
“Yes, of course we will attend,” Mrs Daventry said as she lifted a piece of buttered scone to her lips. “Charlotte is your best friend and Mr and Mrs Harrington are friends of mine and your father… are friends of mine.”
“A change of air will lift both your spirits,” Mrs Gallerton contributed, “and England is far warmer than this. I am used to proper summers. I will join you.”
Amelia and her mother exchanged glances. The woman might at least wait to be asked.
Mrs Daventry took another sip of tea. “I will ask Mr Benjamin Harrington when he wishes to leave.”
The next day, when Benjamin called to check on them, they agreed a date two weeks’ hence to set out and he also, on Lottie’s behalf, invited Amelia’s aunt to join them. Depending on how many days the journey took that would give them about three weeks at Mr Alexander Fenbridge’s home before the wedding.
Amelia could not wait, the need to see her friend suddenly overwhelming. Lottie’s letter had also made Amelia miss her all the more and the knowledge that Lottie would never again live within a short carriage ride’s distance made it even worse, so she intended to make the most of every moment of their visit.
There was not much to get ready for the journey and she and her mother would, of course, still be wearing their black mourning outfits so there would not be anything to decide over clothes, despite her aunt’s comments to the contrary.
The days crawled by with little for Amelia to occupy herself with save worrying about the family finances, fretting over her future and feeling mortified over slapping Mr Brightford. She had not seen him since the awful incident but knew from Benjamin that he would be amongst the party travelling to the wedding.
She believed herself to have a generally happy disposition but her father’s death and not having Lottie here to help her cope with it made everything seem almost unbearable. Also, for some reason, the fact that Mr Brightford had such a poor opinion of her kept preying on her mind. She realised with a start that she had thought far more about that than about losing Mr Wrackley’s regard. Did she simply not have any grief left to spare him or was it possible that she had not loved him after all?
* * *
“You must be looking forward to seeing your family again for your sister’s wedding,” Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge said to Benjamin as they sat having luncheon together, “or are you worried about not obeying your father’s decree to get engaged?”
“I will be very happy to see Lottie but I fear my parents will cut me out of their lives when I tell them I never intend to marry.” It was an encounter he was dreading but he told himself they could only disown him once so, once it was done, he could forget about it and enjoy seeing Lottie again. It galled him that he would be dependent on Nathan to support him, that it might put a strain on their relationship, but Nathan had reassured him a number of times on the subject. Also, Benjamin hoped to throw himself into assisting with the running of Alexander Fenbridge’s estate and perhaps be sufficiently useful to make up for the financial assistance.
He would have to find a way to make it work as he knew he could never give Nathan up. Their weeks together had given him a joy he hadn’t previously known was possible, the mutual affection and physical intimacies giving him everything he could ever want.
Nathan took his hand, pulling his thoughts back to the present. “If you wanted to give them extra time to get used to us you could always say you are not marrying for the moment.”
“No. They have had a couple of years to get used to my feelings and their solution is to force me to live as others do even if it makes me miserable. If they cannot cope with who I am then I am resigned to being disowned. You make me happy and that is all I need from life.”
They exchanged a kiss and Nathan said, “Then I will endeavour to always make you happy.”
* * *
Miss Daventry had been on Mr Brightford’s mind recently.
Harrington - in reaction to hearing about Brightford’s words to Wrackley - had insisted on telling him countless stories about Miss Daventry’s kindness, wittiness and affectionate nature. Then, when he had run out of breath, Fenbridge took over. Had the annoying woman set out to charm every man she had ever met save him?
No, she had doubtless never intended it but the stories had done their work and Brightford had begun to be won over as well. Just this morning he had had to reprimand himself for dwelling on how beautiful she was and wishing she did not dislike him so thoroughly.
The knowledge that she was not the person he had believed made the harm he had done her all the more grievous and he could think of only one way to make amends.
He sat down at his writing desk and began the difficult task of composing a letter to Mr Wrackley.
Chapter Nineteen
ON THE DAY they were due to leave for Mr Alexander Fenbridge’s estate Amelia was packed and ready by 7am, her Mama was ready by 9am, the carriage with the rest of the party was there by 9.30am and Aunt Agnes was still procrastinating at midday.
“We should have luncheon then leave,” Mrs Gallerton announced to the group assembled in the drawing room.
“We have a picnic packed for luncheon,” Amelia reminded her as patiently as she was able.
“I wish I had been introduced to either the bride or groom.” She said this in the tone of one who has been ill-treated. “It does not feel entirely proper to be expected to stay with complete strangers.”
Amelia bit her tongue to prevent herself from pointing out that this unexpected sensitivity had not stopped her aunt turning up on their doorstep.
“My brother will be delighted to have you stay with him,” Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge reassured her with his usual good humour.
“Or if you really feel you would rather stay here until we return you are welcome to do so,” Amelia suggested in a tone that must have sounded too hopeful from the glare her mother shot at her and the cool look from her aunt.
“Thank you, Mr Fenbridge. I will accept your word for it. I just need to check I have everything I need then I suppose we should set off.” She vanished back out of the room.
Amelia sighed and Benjamin suggested a game of cards.
* * *
Half an hour after they finally departed Amelia would have given anything to be back in her room.
Mrs Gallerton had invited Mr Brightford to join their carriage. Indeed she looked as if she would have liked to join all three gentlemen but sadly lacked the level of audacity needed to invite herself into their carriage. This meant that Amelia now shared a carriage with her mother, Mrs Gallerton and Mr Brightford while Benjamin and Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge shared the other. The latter gentlemen looked more than satisfied at the arrangement while Amelia resolved herself to two days of misery and humiliation.
While Mrs Gallerton talked at everyone on any subject that entered her head, Amelia tried to avoid Mr Brightford’s gaze, which meant she spent most of her time looking out of the window.
“You are in a quiet mood, Amelia,” Mrs Gallerton said and Amelia started and looked round. “Normally you have far more to say for yourself and Mrs Daventry and I have heard all this last week how eager you are to see your friend.” Before Amelia could respond, Mrs Gallerton turned to Mr Brightford and added, “It is pleasant for a young lady to attend a wedding, although of course not nearly as pleasant as her own wedding.” She laughed at her own slight joke while Mr Brightford gave an uncomfortable smile - more of a grimace really - and Amelia felt her face heat. “I imagine you are thinking about marriage yourself, Mr Brightford,” Mrs Gallerton went on with such an utter lack of subtlety that Amelia longed to throw herself from the carriage to escape.
“Not when I can avoid it,” Mr Brightford replied and Amelia, for once, welcomed his lack of manners, hoping it would put her aunt off the subject.
“Of course, men have more leisure over these matters than women…”
Amelia wondered if she could enlist some help in pushing Mrs Gallerton from the carriage. From the expressions around her she suspected no one would object.
“I am glad today is cooler than it has been recently,” Mrs Daventry said hastily and Amelia threw her mother a grateful look.
“Indeed,” Mr Brightford agreed eagerly. “There is nothing worse than a stuffy carriage ride.”
Not to be left out, Mrs Gallerton said, “England is, of course, warmer than Scotland.”
; “The countryside is, I believe, different to ours,” Amelia said, no longer caring how long Mrs Gallerton spoke just so long as she stopped match-making.
“That is very true. Where I live…”
Amelia’s wish was granted as her aunt managed to keep this subject going until they stopped at a large inn. It was only late afternoon but they agreed that this would be a good place to spend the night.
While her mother rested in the room they would be sharing, Amelia went for a short walk to clear her head of the echo of Mrs Gallerton’s strident voice.
She wandered vaguely towards some trees, enjoying the weak sunshine and the cool breeze on her face. She was brought to a half by the sight of a familiar figure. Her instinct was to turn and flee but she ignored it and steeled herself to approach.
“Mr Brightford,” she said to get his attention.
Her turned round, looking equally startled by her presence, and bowed.
She curtsied. “Mr Brightford, I owe you an apology for my shameful behaviour in slapping you when we last spoke. I do not know what caused me to act in such a way.”
“I expect it was my own appalling manners,” he said easily. “Besides, I still owe you an apology over Mr Wrackley.”
“You have already made it.”
“But you did not accept it,” he pointed out with a sardonic lift to one eyebrow.
She smiled, awkwardness fading. “Then I do so now and I hope you will likewise forgive me.”
“Done.”
Her relief at his response was beyond what it should have been and for a moment she remained flustered in his presence. “Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge must be looking forward to seeing his brother again,” she ventured.
“One might suppose that but in actual fact I have never seen him more content than during these last weeks.”
Her smile returned. “I believe he and Mr Harrington have formed an affectionate friendship.”
He gave her a sharp look and his eyes flashed with amusement. “That would seem to be a very accurate way of putting it.”