Letitia Or The Convalescent Heart

by Catherine Bowness

  The Earl said jocularly, “We are not ciphers, you know.”

  “I do not know,” Letty retorted, “but I have come to the conclusion that men think women are entirely empty-headed for they show absolutely no consideration and never ask us what we think about anything and if – if we do dare to express an opinion, we are immediately told to ‘button it’ or some such.”

  “Perhaps you are right,” he said slowly. “I apologise on behalf of my sex. Could we, do you think, start again and try to treat each other as human beings?”

  “If you embark upon such an excessively silly thing as that,” the Countess interrupted, “you will never hear the end of it. That girl,” she almost spat as she glared at the defiant and red-faced Letty, “will lead you on the most appalling goose-chase if you give her the smallest encouragement. She is selfish, thoughtless and vain.”

  “Vain?” Letty exclaimed, reacting immediately to the criticism which she recognised as being unwarranted.

  “You are the vainest creature I ever met,” the Countess confirmed, glaring back. “It is perfectly clear that no one has ever corrected your conduct but there is no doubt in my mind that your head has been filled with the belief that, because you are pretty, men will do your bidding – and, absurd creatures that they are, very likely they will.”

  “That is enough!” the Earl exclaimed in a loud voice. “Must we spend every minute in argument? We will soon be home and I wish you will all look out of the windows and see how pretty the banks are in the sunshine. Indeed,” he added, perhaps carried away with his own power when they not only all grew quiet but stared at him with their mouths open, “I forbid anyone to say another word until we turn in at the gates.”

  “Humph,” the Countess said defiantly but, as the Earl wisely ignored this sally, silence fell and the carriage clattered on towards its destination.

  Everyone retired to their chambers upon arrival, the Countess disappearing with a ‘tsk’ into the North Tower, the Earl going to the library and Letty and Aspasia making their way upstairs.

  Letty, after the Earl’s instruction not to speak, seemed to have taken umbrage and made a vow never again to open her mouth for, without a word, she went to her chamber and shut the door, quite pointedly, in her aunt’s face.

  Aspasia, rather glad than otherwise not to be obliged to remonstrate with her again immediately, sent for some hot water and, upon quantities being brought up, retired to make use of it.

  It was shortly after she emerged that she heard a soft knock and, inviting the visitor to enter, saw with pleasure that it was her maid, Wilson, accompanied by the girl she had promoted to wait upon Letty.

  “We have but this instant arrived, Madam,” Wilson explained. “Shall I order the men to bring up the trunks?”

  “Oh, yes, please do. I own I shall find it comforting to have my own things about me. We have had a most tiring day,” she added with a sigh.

  “I understand from Baxter,” Wilson spoke the name as though referring to a wild animal, “that you have been visiting Lord Archibald’s residence.”

  “Yes; it was not a long journey and we did not remain there as long as I think was first intended because Miss Denton was taken ill. She has retired to her chamber and is, I hope, asleep so that it might be advisable for Bess to wait a little while before we introduce them.”

  Both maids were perfectly happy with this arrangement, the trunks were brought up and they began at once to unpack Mrs Ripley’s and to set her garments in her wardrobe.

  When Letty had still not emerged from her room by the dinner hour, Aspasia knocked upon the door and, receiving no answer, opened it. Letty was asleep, but it was apparent that she had wept copiously before falling into slumber for her cheeks were still damp and her eyelids swollen. Aspasia, looking upon the young face and the touching way the girl’s hands were folded beneath her cheek, felt her heart contract. She was a decidedly tiresome companion and had, to her mind, fully deserved the telling-off she had administered as well as the Earl’s exasperated injunction to stop talking, but the fact that she had shed so many tears without drawing attention to the fact made the aunt’s heart soften towards her.

  What should she do? They ought to go down for dinner but she found herself reluctant to wake the sleeping girl when she had clearly not been asleep for long. In the end, after standing undecided in the doorway for some time, she resolved to put the matter before the Earl and allow herself to be guided by him.

  Accordingly, she went downstairs where she found him alone in the saloon.

  “Mrs Ripley,” he said at once, rising to greet her.

  “Letty is asleep,” she told him without preamble. “I think she must have been upset when we returned and, to be frank, I am not convinced that I should wake her just yet.”

  “Have you had a very trying time with her?”

  “No; she went straight into her own chamber and shut the door without a word. I own I was relieved but, just now, thinking that the hour for dinner must be approaching, I went in and found her with traces of tears upon her cheeks.”

  “Oh dear! Do you suppose it was I who distressed her so greatly?”

  “Not only you, although I think you did; I did so too. Do you think I should wake her? Where is Lady Stonegate?”

  He laughed. “You will be relieved to hear that she has decided to dine in her own quarters this evening.”

  “Will she be sitting down to a bowl of gruel, do you suppose?” she asked, teasing.

  “Very likely, although it is not she who suffers from a weak digestion. She was right when she said that, as a boy, I was often unwell. She seems to have formed her dietary beliefs about what she calls ‘rich’ food on the basis of my childish over-indulgence. Shall we dine alone and leave both our charges to their own devices? I will have something sent up to Letitia in half an hour or so.”

  “She will not be happy if she finds me gone when she wakes,” Aspasia objected.

  “She will no doubt come downstairs when she notices you are absent and realises what time it is. I would like it exceedingly if you would dine with me but, if you are determined not to abandon your niece, I will have something sent up for you too – and take my dinner by myself.”

  Hearing the note of disappointment in his lordship’s voice and having little desire to be served her dinner on a tray upstairs, Aspasia conceded defeat and allowed him to inform Crabb that there would only be two covers.

  When the butler had gone, Stonegate said, “Now that our dining arrangements have been resolved, I will tell you what Crabb divulged to me shortly after we returned: your admirers called this afternoon while we were at Amberstone. I understand they are staying at the Prince Hal tonight and have promised to visit again in the morning.”

  “Oh! They are not my admirers – at least not both of them!”

  “No, but I imagine you would lay claim to the elder and allow the younger to have conceived an admiration for Letitia; he seems to have no hesitation in seeking her out in her fiancé’s house, due, most probably, to the lack of devotion she evinced when you met. While you were upstairs earlier I occupied myself in writing a note to invite them to stay while they are in the neighbourhood.”

  “That is very generous of you,” Aspasia said, “since I believe you to be perfectly right that the younger soldier is keen to pursue his acquaintance with Letty – and does not seem to have been deterred by her status, which, I can assure you, she did draw to his attention.”

  “I have no wish to lock the girl up and indeed, now that I have spent some time with her, I am convinced of the importance of her meeting as many potential suitors as possible in the next few days. She is exceedingly young and, not having had the usual London season to introduce her to likely gentlemen, is sadly lacking in experience in dealing with admirers. She is, as even Mama has acknowledged, excessively pretty and is bound to attract a good many; it is imperative that she have a choice if she is not to make a dreadful mistake.”

  “I am beginning to
think you will stop at nothing to prevent your marriage taking place,” Aspasia said, not altogether amused, “including inviting a whole lot of potential new suitors to take her off your hands!”

  “I own I do not find myself precisely eager to go ahead but I will, of course, fulfil my obligation if she does not find someone more to her taste. You surely cannot pretend that you think she and I would suit!”

  “No, I own I do not!” Aspasia agreed warmly. “She is by far too young and exigent and, forgive me, my lord, but I suspect you have already spent a deal too much time dealing with Lady Stonegate’s demands to wish to embark on a fresh set with your wife! I would imagine that peace and tranquillity might be more to your taste than endless feminine cat-fights between your wife and your stepmother!”

  “Oh, I hope I have not become so old that I do not look forward to excitement – and even occasional differences of opinion – but I own the thought of dealing with those two might hasten me to an early grave!”

  “Or back to London!”

  “As you say.”

  Chapter 21

  When Crabb announced dinner the Earl and Aspasia made their way into the dining room where, while the servants were present, the conversation was necessarily restrained.

  When they had left, the Earl said, “While you were upstairs I wrote a few more letters to various members of my acquaintance whom I thought might be able to shed light on Mr Ripley’s whereabouts. It would, I think, be of considerable assistance if you could recall the exact date – and indeed time – the ceremony took place in Gretna Green and the identity of any witnesses.”

  “I have no difficulty in recalling such a momentous event,” she replied at once and gave him the information, adding, “Would you like me to write it down for you?”

  “Oh, no, I think I can remember. It would also be useful to know Mr Ripley’s names – it being, as you say, a not uncommon name, his date and place of birth. All these details will help to identify him if Colonel Mott-Ripley is unable to shed any light on the matter. I have, by the way, also written to invite him, his wife, their son and eldest daughter to attend a sort of miniature ball which I have decided to give to introduce Letitia – and you - to the neighbourhood. He has been away in Europe for some time but will, I hope, be back on furlough by then. In any event, I daresay the wife and children could come on their own if he is still abroad. I suppose I should ask you for your own names and – if you do not object to divulging them to me – your date and place of birth.”

  “Of course I do not object,” she replied at once, “but I think I had better write it all down now that the list has grown so long. I am afraid I never knew Mr Ripley’s date or place of birth; indeed, I don’t believe I ever asked him, not considering such things particularly important at the time. I know his names, of course, since I had to recite them when I made my vows.”

  “I see. Do you know how old he was at the time?”

  “No, as a matter of fact I do not; he was peculiarly coy about his age, I suppose because he was at least twenty years older than I. We ran away the day after my sixteenth birthday. He must have been about six and thirty so that he would now be about eight and forty, if he is still alive.”

  “That is not as exact as I would like,” the Earl said, frowning. “Did he seem old to you at the time?”

  “When we married? Lord, no! He seemed at the very peak of his manhood: mature, but by no means old.” She was laughing as she recalled her husband’s handsome face, fine figure and inviting manner.

  “I am six and thirty now,” Stonegate said, laughing too. “I don’t suppose you can, with any degree of accuracy, make a comparison between us?”

  Aspasia, at first startled, finally began to laugh almost hysterically as she strove to compare her husband, some twelve years previously, with the man sitting opposite her.

  “Well, of course you cannot,” the Earl said at last. “I should not have asked for, quite obviously, he was a veritable Adonis while I am just a man.”

  “Oh, not quite,” she responded. “You are an Earl, my lord; he was ‘just a man’ and not, according to Mama, from the same rank as I. She had been prepared to flirt with him in the assembly rooms, which was an excessively irresponsible way to behave for of course it gave me the impression that he was in every way desirable. He was not.

  “I do not think I have grown a great deal since then so that I can tell you, with some degree of certainty, that he was not as tall as you; his hair was copious, fair and all over curls – quite Byronic in fact except that of course the poet is dark; his figure appeared excellent until I grew to know him better when I discovered that he had in fact padded his calves and his shoulders. He had blue eyes, which were rather round and very large; they had an innocent expression, due I now think solely to their size and shape for he was by no means innocent. Indeed, after what her ladyship said earlier, I do wonder if he hoped that I would bring a substantial dowry with me. His disappointment that I brought not so much as a penny piece may, I now realise, have had as much to do with his dissatisfaction as my poor grasp of wifely skills.”

  During this recital the Earl had veered between almost unholy amusement and sympathy. He said now, “I am sure he was not disappointed in your calves or shoulders – indeed, I cannot conceive how he can have been disappointed by anything of a personal nature – so I rather agree that it may have been related to the size of your portion. Did he ever mention it afterwards – once you were married?”

  “Not in so many words, no, which is why, until your mother spoke, I had no idea that I might ever have had the promise of anything much, but he did frequently accuse me of looking down upon him which, he said, was outrageous in view of the fact that I had come with nothing. It did not occur to me that I might have had something if I had not married him. Mama never mentioned the size of my portion nor warned me to be on the look-out for fortune-hunters.”

  “You might have had so many things,” Stonegate said gravely, “happiness, a family, companionship.”

  “I have a companion,” she pointed out with a little downturn of her mouth.

  “A woman? Is she stimulating company?”

  “No, she is perfectly maddening but at least I can lay her off if I cannot bear another moment of it. If Letty does not marry you, your brother or Lord Sharpthorne, I have offered her a home with me. Can you conceive how stimulating my life will become?”

  “Yes, and I promise I will not allow it to happen.”

  “You would sacrifice yourself for my comfort?” she asked curiously.

  “I believe I would, but I have made her a promise and I will not break it. I am pinning my hopes on Lord Sharpthorne.”

  It was not until after dinner when they were sitting in the drawing room playing a game of piquet in a companionable manner that the door flew open and Letty appeared on the threshold.

  “Why did you not wake me?” she cried.

  “I thought – forgive me, Letty – that sleep might knit up the ravelled sleeve of care which had been the consequence of today’s events. Did someone not bring you your dinner on a tray?”

  “Yes, but it was cold by the time I woke up.”

  “In that case, I will send for some that is hot to be served in the dining room immediately,” the Earl said. “Would you like us to sit with you while you dine?”

  “No; I don’t want anything now; it is by far too late. Where is your mama?”

  “She decided to remain in her own quarters; she said she was abominably fatigued.”

  “So was I but, if I had known she would not be here, I would have come down. I suppose you have had a lovely evening à deux?”

  “We have,” he acknowledged.

  Letty, who still stood in the doorway, pouted and said, “It would be much better if you were to marry each other, you know, for at least you are of an age, and I suppose my aunt is not so advanced in years that she could not provide you with an heir!”

  “Letty!” Aspasia exclaimed, blushing furiously.


  “I think you have spoken out of turn,” the Earl said quietly, “and should apologise to your aunt at once, although I own it would be a neat solution if she were not already married and quite possibly not yet widowed.”

  “A solution to what precise dilemma?” Aspasia asked, still blushing but drawing herself up haughtily and attempting to look outraged.

  It was the Earl’s turn to blush, which he did hotly. “I am sorry!” he said at once, “but you know that I am looking for a wife and, the more I get to know you, Mrs Ripley, the more I am convinced that we would deal extremely well together.”

  “One evening without anyone else setting up a disagreement and you think me suited to your requirements,” she said. “Pray don’t forget that I have no portion, I have been disinherited and am – as you say – very likely still married to Mr Ripley.”

  “I do not forget any of those things although I assure you that the possession of a portion is of no interest to me whatsoever, whatever my mama may have hinted this afternoon. Mr Ripley remains, however, something of a stumbling block, although I am convinced that, after all this time, he can be declared dead if we apply to the right authority.”

  “That is all right then,” Letty, who had been watching this interchange with an open mouth, said. “You and Aunt can marry and I – what shall I do?”

  “What do you want to do?” her fiancé asked, clearly deciding that the matter should be taken humorously.

  Aspasia, thinking that nobody had asked her what she wanted to do either, said nothing but waited, with considerable interest, for Letty’s reaction.

  “I don’t know,” she said and turned a pair of large blue eyes pleadingly upon her aunt.

  “You do not have to decide now,” Aspasia said. “I promise I will not allow anything bad to happen to you – or anything you do not wish. His lordship chooses to laugh about matters which, to you and me, are extremely serious. I really do think you should eat your dinner though because it is my experience that not eating one’s dinner can make one excessively anxious and irritable – and you did not eat any luncheon either.”