Miss Armistead Makes Her Choice

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Miss Armistead Makes Her Choice Page 4

by Heidi Ashworth


  Colin quelled his disappointment and noted that Tony was expected to return in a matter of days. The passage of time in between could be spent in the continued redecoration of the townhouse. The library had been Colin’s priority and a visit to an antiques dealer had quickly resolved the matter of furniture. Even now he enjoyed the deep satisfaction one experienced when sunk into the butter-soft leather of a well loved chair.

  Meanwhile, provisions had been made to redeem the floor through the purchase of an ancient, but well cared for, Aubusson rug and new window hangings had been requisitioned. As for the rest of the house, all that remained was for him to persuade his father that an increase in Colin’s allowance was in order in spite of his lack of a wife. The original fitting of the house had made prodigious inroads into his accounts and once he was through with what was needed for the library, there would be little left for the other rooms, of which there were many.

  With a sigh, he rose from his chair with the intention of repairing to his father’s London abode in search of financial relief. He hadn’t stirred far from the fire, however, when there came a knock at the door and Evans entered bearing a single card on a tray.

  “Sir, there is a young woman in the vestibule. After the mishap of earlier this week, I hesitated to allow her entrance without first making her identity made known to you.”

  “Very good of you.” Colin took the card and was surprised, as well as pleased, to see that it bore the name of his sister. “Ah, well, in future, Evans, you may admit my sister any time she is good enough to call.”

  “Very good, sir. I will show her through.”

  Colin had but a moment to wonder whether or not the room was now too masculine to afford comfort to a female before his sister was in his arms.

  “Oh, Colin, how I have yearned for you!”

  He gave her a squeeze and held her at arm’s length. “And I you. But you look fine as a newly shined penny, do you not? Your new status in the world becomes you.”

  She blushed and favored him with a smile he suspected would hammer the heart of many a man in the weeks and months to come.

  “Thank you, Colin. I must admit to an inordinate amount of enjoyment as of late,” she said with a twirl of her skirts. “However, I am here to discover the reason for your absence. You have left me to my own devices far too long and I can hardly credit it! I would have thought you delirious with fever if Papa hadn’t assured me that you were well enough. I haven’t done anything to give you a disgust of me, have I?”

  Colin laughed. “The very idea is absurd.”

  “Then why have you not been by my side? I must say, I have been positively bereft! I thought surely you would attend the Carruth’s ball last night, but you were nowhere to be found. You can’t still be troubled over that to-do with Cecily, can you?” she asked smartly though the expression in her eyes betrayed a much softer sentiment.

  Finding her sympathy insupportable, he turned away to stoke up the fire. “Of course, what else? You do not expect me to recover from true love quite so abruptly, do you?”

  “It wasn’t true love, you know very well it was not. Is there even such a thing?”

  Caught off guard, Colin swung round to read her expression. “What is this? Does the perennial romantic turn pragmatic?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes at his words and she collapsed onto the newly delivered Louis the XIII sofa. Appalled, he rushed to her side and took her hand in his. “What is it, Ana? Mrs. Lloyd-Jones hasn’t been badgering you over your sweet-eating tendency again, has she?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. And if she were your mother as well as mine, you wouldn’t be so inclined to fly to false conclusions. As if our father isn’t trouble enough for one poor debutante.”

  “Dearest, whatever can you mean? You are the apple of his eye. What can he have done to vex you so?”

  Analisa rolled her eyes. “Don’t feign ignorance, Colin. You have seen for yourself how positively callous he can be. However, if you must know, he has verbally beaten all of the romance out of me. Where is the romance in being made to marry someone you have but met the once and who is so dreadfully tiresome?”

  “Betrothed? Already?” Colin asked anxiously with a mind for the betting books at White’s. “To whom?”

  “Someone entirely unsuitable. He’s about as dreadful as one could hope. Why Papa wished this deplorable state of affairs on me, I cannot imagine.”

  “You can’t mean that he has promised you to Lord Eggleston?” Colin demanded. “He is more than twice your age and almost entirely deaf in one ear.”

  “No. Worse. Lord Northrup,” she replied and promptly burst into tears.

  “But, Ana, surely you are mistaken,” he soothed. “Lord Northrup is practically a child.”

  “Yes . . I am quite aware!” she cried.

  “I am beyond astonished that you have accepted this without presenting an argument or two. You must have told Father that Lord Northrup just won’t do!”

  Analisa swallowed her sobs and heaved a shuddering sigh. “How could I not?”

  “And what was his response?”

  “He said that I haven’t the years or maturity to know what is best for me, that is what.”

  “One needn’t be older than you to know that Lord Northrup is the worst choice of husband!”

  “That is precisely the argument I posited,” she said with a sniff. “And that is when he told me that I had best mind my words or my reputation shall be torn to shreds, just as has Ginny Delacourt’s.”

  “Who is Ginny Delacourt?”

  “Some nobody vicar’s daughter. She has caused some undue amount of scandal over her unwillingness to hold her tongue,” Analisa replied, tears welling again in her eyes.

  Colin put his arm around his sister’s shoulder. “There, there, now, he’ll come about.” In truth, Colin was rather alarmed and wondered at his father’s judgment. The young Lord Northrup was not an answer to Analisa’s spirited ways. An older man was called for, to be sure, though not one as far gone as Lord Eggleston. He considered soothing her by pointing out that the infamous Lord Trevelin might have been the man to whom she found herself promised, but decided it was a jest in poor taste. “In the meantime, I was just about to go in search of dear Papa over a personal matter. Should you like me to speak to him as to your betrothal?”

  “Yes,” she cried, seizing his hand. “Oh yes, Colin! Would you?”

  “I would be delighted. However, you must be prepared to be patient. I am persuaded he shall change his mind, but it might take some time. Do you know if the matter is settled? Is an announcement to be placed in the papers so soon?”

  She shook her head. “He was kind enough to suggest I become accustomed to the notion before it is made public.”

  “Well, then, matters are not as far progressed as I had feared. Did you take a hackney cab or were you allowed use of your mother’s carriage?”

  “Neither. I walked.” She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with tears. “I required time to gain command of myself.”

  “In that case, I shall be most pleased to convey you home.” He rang for the butler and gave the order that the horses should be put to his curricle and brought round. “I expect I shall be asked to dine en famille, Evans, so let Cook know that I will not be in need of the usual tray.”

  He kept Analisa occupied with benign chatter until it was time to depart and welcomed her head on his shoulder when she nodded off during the journey home. That she was, perhaps, attending too many parties and not getting enough sleep was a matter of concern. He determined to speak to his father on that score, as well.

  Upon their arrival at Lloyd-Jones House, they were met nearly as might have been long-lost prodigals. It seemed that Analisa had informed none of her departure and the household had been in an uproar since she was discovered to be missing. Colin’s step-mother was particularly distressed and his father had just rung for the butler to request the physician to call when Colin and his sister descended upon t
hem in the first floor salon.

  “Oh, my dearest child!” Mrs. Lloyd-Jones cried from her place sprawled across the divan. Her struggles to rise were hampered by the disagreeable pair of small dogs that could always be found somewhere about her person. For the first time in Colin’s presence, she ignored their vociferous barking and turned them from her lap in favor of clasping her daughter in her arms. “I have been positively wild with worry! What can have been so imperative that you must needs sail out of the house without so much as a by your leave?” she sobbed into Analisa’s shoulder. “And, as if that were not bad enough, you left the house without a bonnet!”

  “Mama, I never did!” Analisa gently extricated herself from her mother’s grasp. “I fell asleep on our way home and Colin removed it.”

  “You fell asleep? How might one sleep in the face of such an ordeal? Where did your brother find you? At Gunter’s sneaking an ice again?” her mother accused. “Or were you at the theater? Do tell me you hadn’t ventured there. Theaters have such a distressing habit of burning to the ground.”

  “No, Mama, I have done nothing amiss other than to quit the house without leaving word.”

  “She came to see me, Ma’am,” Colin supplied. “It seems she has mourned my absence as much as I have hers,” he added with a fond smile. “However, methinks she is in need of a night or two of rustication,” he said with a brow raised in his father’s direction.

  “Doubtless you are correct,” Mr. Lloyd-Jones said in a manner so hearty as to betray his anxiety. “All is now well and supper may be served. Colin, you will join us, won’t you.”

  “I should be delighted. And afterwards, Father, it would please me if we discussed a few matters.”

  “I should very much like to be present for this disputation,” Analisa announced.

  “Disputation? Who suggested anything so dire?” Colin directed a sly wink at his sister in hopes of warning her away from her present course of conversation.

  “You will speak to Papa about my circumstances just as you promised, won’t you?”

  “Yes,” Colin said briskly. “Certainly someone ought to address the subject of your propensity to run about town on your own, not to mention your utter lack of delicacy in falling asleep in the face of your mother’s anguish.”

  “Oh! You are but mocking me, now,” Analisa said and she turned and quit the room.

  “Whatever it is, Colin, that you have to say, we shall address in private,” his father said.

  “Of course. I hadn’t considered otherwise as I have matters of a personal nature to discuss. I do, as I’ve said, have concerns that pertain to Ana, as well, and I hope that you shall be willing to listen with an open ear.”

  “When have I done otherwise?” Mr. Lloyd-Jones demanded.

  Colin felt it best to allow that question to hang on the air and turned to follow his sister out to the dining room. As he made his way, he examined his feelings and was surprised to find how frustrated he felt. He couldn’t like the way his father was playing fast and loose with Analisa’s future and hadn’t the slightest idea how he was to convince his father to do differently.

  The meal they took together was a chaotic one; most of the kitchen staff had been pressed into service to hunt for the young miss and several of the dishes were hastily replaced or served cold or not at all. This put Colin’s father in somewhat of a bitter mood as there was nothing he prized more highly, save his children, than an irreproachable service and the ensuing pleasure derived from the consumption of the best meal his vast fortune could provide. Therefore, when the women left the dining room, it was with some trepidation that Colin broached the subject of his sister’s marriage; the matter of enlarging his allowance could wait for another day.

  “Father, Analisa has spoken to me of her betrothal. I must say, I am more than a little surprised. Lord Northrup can’t have been through with his schooling more than a year ago.”

  “Less. However, he has plans for a Grand Tour of a year or more. The marriage won’t take place until his return.”

  Colin heaved a sigh of relief and leaned back in his chair. “Then there is hope.”

  “Hope? Of what?”

  “That she shall catch the eye of someone more suitable in the meantime and cry off.”

  “Why should she?” his father demanded. “Northrup is an excellent match. He is rich, educated, titled and far from being an old man. For what more should a young girl wish?”

  Colin winnowed his words with great care. “Of course, you are quite correct on all counts. Only . . there is something a bit unsavory about him. It’s not anything I might put my finger on exactly, but Analisa is of the same opinion. I am persuaded it would be best for her to wed where there is, at the very least, a meeting of the minds.”

  “Love; that is what you mean to say,” Mr. Lloyd-Jones said, frowning. “What has love to say to the matter? It cannot feed you when you are hungry, house you when you are cold, put clothes on your back . . “

  “Yes, Father, yes, I realize that these things are all frightfully important, particularly when they pertain to your only daughter. However, Analisa hasn’t the practical nature that might best appreciate these circumstances to the fullest. I do believe she deserves the opportunity to fall in love with the man she intends to wed.”

  “I suppose you fancied yourself in love with Miss Ponsonby. Where has that landed you, dare I ask?”

  Colin ignored the stab of discomfort that followed his father’s words and pressed on. “What has my failure to do with Ana? She is nothing like Miss Ponsonby.”

  “No, she is not,” his father said as he leaned across the table to pin his son in a penetrating gaze. “She is precisely like her brother, a hopeless romantic, one who perpetually views life through a romantic lens and is invariably downcast when life doesn’t compare to her delusions. How is she to fare when the scales fall from her eyes and she learns her perfect husband is anything but? She needs to enter the marital state with no illusions if she is to survive it.”

  The truth of his father’s words wounded Colin to the core. “I was wrong, then, about hope.”

  “For happiness? But of course! She shall be the mistress of her own home, bear children, have her own funds with which to buy whatever she wishes; all are the same circumstances which made your own mother quite content, I do assure you.”

  “So, there is nothing to be done but have the banns read and the announcement placed in the papers. Yet, you hesitate. Why is that?”

  “As I have said, he is to be abroad for some months once the season has ended. She is only seventeen and this is her first season. Much can happen, with a man’s fortune or his character, in a year’s time. To be truthful, I suppose I am holding out for someone better, someone who might think it early days yet to broach the subject.”

  “Someone such as Sir Anthony Crenshaw?” Colin asked.

  “Certainly he should make a very fine catch for Analisa. And yet . . even Lord Northrup is but an earl. I had thought to look a bit higher for her.”

  “Than an earl? Father, you can’t be serious,” Colin began when a new realization dawned. “Not Lord Eggleston,” he heard himself say for the second time that day. “Yes, he is a duke but he is far too old for Analisa!”

  “I suppose you think you could do better?” Mr. Lloyd-Jones challenged with a pound of his fist to the tabletop.

  “I don’t rightly know,” Colin replied, nonplussed. “I hadn’t given the matter a moment’s thought until today. However, I do know that Analisa should be made miserable as wife to either Eggleston or Northrup. As for Tony, he is determined to stay a bachelor into perpetuity.”

  “Then you had best find someone else for your sister. In exchange, perhaps there is something I might do for you.”

  Colin leaned forward in his chair and ran his fingers along his chin. “There is one small matter with which you might be able to assist,” he said slowly. “I find myself financially short. It’s not serious,” he hastened to reassure his
father. “It’s only that I have a project in mind that would suit me but that is currently beyond my means.”

  “Very well, then, I shall finance this project and you shall find your sister a more suitable husband. Am I correct in that appraisal?”

  “Yes sir,” Colin said as he stood and held out his hand. “You are most correct.”

  The two men shook hands and though the promise of money caused Colin to feel as if he had made a deal with the devil, his heart felt lighter than it had since Miss Cecily Ponsonby had agreed to be his wife. With a smile so broad he could feel it stretch his face he went in search of his sister.

  He found her in the salon, her embroidery in her hand and a faraway expression in her eyes. “I had not expected to find you on your own,” he observed, removing a cushion so as to sit at her side.

  “Mama thought your suggestion brilliant and has ordered me to bed before she departs for the card party to which we had both been invited,” she said with an arch look for her brother.

  “Am I to be derided, then? I, your brother who has all but rescued your pretty neck from the noose?”

  “I find I cannot like your choice of words,” she said in bantering tones. “Have you rescued me or have you not?”

  “I have convinced our papa that I could do better, and so I shall.”

  “You, do better? Am I to wed my brother, then?” she quipped.

  “Ana, if you should but be serious, you should find that I am far more deserving of your praise than your reproaches.”

  “What is this?” she breathed as she thrust her embroidery into her lap. “You haven’t convinced Papa of his folly, have you?”

  “Nothing doubting!”

  “Oh, Colin, you absolute dear! I can hardly credit it!” She took his hand and held it tight between her own. “For Papa to reverse his decision and in so short a space of time . . However did you manage it?”

  “Well, naturally, he had requirements. In this case, they are well within my means.”

  She frowned. “I don’t see that any amount of money should tempt Papa in this matter,” she said slowly.

 

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