A Most Congenial Lady

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A Most Congenial Lady Page 6

by Elizabeth Downton


  ‘I do feel sorry for his Lordship,’ Sara said, ‘he had gone to such lengths to make today a success.’

  ‘And no one can say it was not,’ Cameron said, ‘a memorable success, that’s for sure. You know, being outdoors in the fresh air and even this rain, reminds me of being back on my grandparents’ estate as a young boy. I’d be out all day watching the wildlife, swimming in the river; there was wonderful deep pool, you could see right to the bottom and I’d dive into the crystal-clear water, and there’d be a rush of the fish around me as I made the biggest splash you’ve ever seen.’

  ‘It sounds wonderful,’ Sara said, ‘you’d love Springside then, the woods and glens and the brook that runs by our cottage, the wildlife. My sisters and I go on such long walks out into the estate.’

  ‘Well I should love to see it very soon,’ Cameron said.

  ‘And perhaps I shall see where you live too,’ Sara said.

  The two smiled at each other as the rain now appeared to ease.

  ‘It looks like we weren’t the only people to take advantage of the shelter,’ Cameron said, pointing to a spot further down the garden where Bart and Daisy could be seen sheltering beneath the boughs of a similar sized rhododendron bush, ‘The old devil.’

  The rain eventually eased enough for both couples to make the walk back towards the house, and the water had now soaked into the grass making it exceptionally muddy under foot. By the time they arrived indoors, their footwear and the hems of their clothing, were suffering the effects of the elements.

  ‘Look at you all, you’re soaked,’ Lady Treblinger said when she first laid eyes upon them, ‘and look at the table.’

  The table was indeed a sorry sight, the spectacular cake at its centre a soggy pile of melted sugar and wet fruit mix.

  ‘We’ll salvage what we can,’ his Lordship said, ‘I’ve eaten worse,’ and he laughed, ‘and Elizabeth dear, no more picnics, I promise.’

  The servants had brought fresh towels for the guests to dry themselves, and a fire was lit in the grate around which sodden clothing was now steaming. No one particularly minded the inconvenience, and indeed there was now the sound of merriment and laughter coming from the salon where Sara and Cameron discovered Susan and Mary talking with Daisy and Bartholomew.

  ‘You had the same idea as us, ey Bart,’ Cameron said as they joined the party.

  ‘What idea?’ Bart said.

  ‘Sheltering under the rhododendron.’

  ‘Yes, a most convenient place to be, unlike my dear sister who thought it best to run.’

  ‘I was only thinking of Father,’ Mary said, laughing.

  ‘Where is he?’ Bart said.

  ‘Oh, he’s enjoying the attentions of the maid, drying his stockings out by the fire, it’ll keep him quiet for hours, I have no doubt.

  The rest of the afternoon passed by gaily enough; at length, the articles of clothing had dried and by three o’clock the sun had come out enough so that its warmth did the rest as the guests once more made their way into the gardens. Thus, the day ended well despite the unexpected deluge. The time that both couples had spent together beneath the rhododendrons, away from prying eyes, had offered them the chance to speak freely and get to know one another on more intimate terms.

  Sara had been enchanted by Cameron’s revelations about his childhood and the care free life he had lived on his grandparents’ estate, which sounded so much like her own and made her certain that they were kindred spirits. On his part, Cameron was enchanted by Sara’s kindness and her innocence which spoke so boldly of one for whom every new discovery is a delight.

  For Daisy Mills, Bartholomew’s attention had become something in which she took great pleasure, and whilst his boastful nature had not been attractive to Sara, Daisy had found it somewhat appealing, given that it allowed her the opportunity to boast in turn as to the varied prowess of her new suitor. For his part, Bartholomew had warmed more to Daisy than he had thought, and his initial desire to simply acquaint himself with whichever lady might find herself attracted to him had altered into the beginnings of a genuine affection.

  It seemed therefore that the situation in Bath could not be better. Sara had the attention of a gentleman she found to be a most pleasant match, and her sister had found, for the first time, a man who was interested in her. His rank and status was only a bonus.

  But a shadow was soon to be cast over the proceedings, for no tale ends happily ever after without some heartache; a heartache which was to emerge in just a few weeks’ time, as the sisters’ time in Bath was drawing to a close.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  And so our Tale Ends

  ‘Marry her?’ the Duke of Mantlehurst said, ‘What do you mean marry her? You hardly know her.’

  ‘Well when has that ever stopped anyone of our rank, Father?’ Bartholomew retorted.

  He and his father were engaged in a heated conversation regarding Daisy Mills. In the weeks since the deluged picnic, the heir to the Mantlehurst estate had found his attitude towards women mellowing somewhat, as he fell more in love with Daisy whose company he had kept on several occasions. The daily written exchanges demonstrated that the love building in his heart for her was reciprocated ten-fold in the eldest daughter of Mr. Ernest Mills.

  For though we have perhaps been rather harsh upon the character of Bartholomew, who had done himself no favours in his treatment of Sara, at his centre was a good heart. For who could have a sister such as Mary Dinkster and not oneself be disposed to some of her kindness and joy?

  ‘You can’t just marry anyone, you know,’ his father said, ‘I have to approve such a liaison, and who is her father? If it were Lord Treblinger himself, I would have no qualms, but is she of sufficient breeding for such a match?’

  ‘Breeding seems to matter not to you when it comes to the waywardness of your hands,’ Bart said rather pointedly, causing his father to become even more enraged.

  It was at this point that Mary Dinkster entered the room. She had been reading in the library with Cameron Styles, who was himself besotted by his own Mills sister and had heard the commotion occurring in the Duke’s study.

  ‘Really, Father, are we then not to marry for love?’ she reproached him.

  ‘Love?’ the Duke said, ‘People of our status do not marry for love. If by happy chance love should occur afterward then so be it, all well and good. No, we marry for duty and not below ourselves. Now young man, I shall make enquiries as to the young lady’s suitability, her estate and so on through the proper channels. I will speak to Lord Treblinger this afternoon and we will discuss this again in the morning. Until then, I absolutely forbid you to pay a visit to Springside House; you could well bring scandal upon us if you do so.’

  ‘Father,’ Mary said, ‘you are a fine one to talk about scandal. If Bart has met the person whom he has deigned to give his affections to, then we should be happy for him.’

  But there was to be no changing of the Duke’s mind, and he dismissed his children forthwith before taking the carriage to Springside House where he found Lord Treblinger in his own library, poring over a copy of Virgil’s Aeneid. The Duke was no classicist, and had little time for such things, striding into the library, he came straight to the point.

  ‘Do the Mills girls have money or not, George?’

  Lord Treblinger was a little taken aback by this intrusion, but he was used to his friend’s distemper. He offered him a chair by the window and both men sat down.

  ‘Why, are you thinking of marrying one of them?’ he said.

  ‘Not me, no, Bart. He wants to ask for young Daisy’s hand, he asked me this afternoon. Preposterous I said. Why, anyone can tell they’re just gentrified farm stock.’

  ‘Come now,’ Lord Treblinger said, ‘there is no need for insult under my own roof.’

  ‘Well what do you see in them, George?’ the Duke said, ‘I understand your charitable intentions in bringing them here, but really they have caused quite an upset now. Enjoying the look of a
girl is one thing, but falling in love, I’ve never heard of such a thing.’

  ‘Well Daisy and Bart appear to get on admirably, as do Sara and Cameron, not to mention Mary’s friendship with all three.’

  ‘Cameron is different,’ the Duke said, ‘he’s not titled, there are no expectations there, and friendship is allowed. Why, I’ve been perfectly friendly myself. But Bart will not marry that girl.’

  ‘Well I can report that her father is an honest and most decent friend of mine, a solicitor by trade.’

  ‘By trade?’ the Duke exclaimed, ‘we do not have trades, we provide them.’

  ‘And,’ Lord Treblinger continued, ‘by our standards, they are not well off. Perhaps he has £400 a year, but Bart will not find a kinder or more straightforward girl than one of Ernest Mills’ children, and you would be unwise to stand in the way of such an assignation.’

  ‘Is that your counsel?’ the Duke said.

  ‘It is, and you can take it or leave it as you see fit and as you have done on multiple occasions.’

  The Duke sighed.

  ‘As usual you offer wisdom over the heart, George.’

  ‘I hope in this case that wisdom and heart go together as one,’ Lord Treblinger said, ‘now let me pour you a drink and perhaps your mind can be changed.’

  ~

  But it seemed that no amount of brandy could change the Duke of Mantelhurst’s mind and when he left Springside House a few hours later, he returned to the family’s lodgings once more to speak with his son.

  ‘She has no money,’ he said as Bart entered his study, ‘no money, no title; her father is a solicitor, not even a London barrister, a country solicitor.’

  ‘But I have fallen for her, Father, there are no others words I can use to express my feelings for Daisy Mills.’

  ‘You will put these fanciful thoughts out of your head. We shall return to London very soon, now I absolutely forbid you to see her again, do you understand?’

  ‘So, I am to call off my courtship of her by letter? Is that what you are saying, Father?’

  ‘Courtship? A picnic and some walks in the park, I would hardly call that a courtship,’ the Duke said.

  ‘This is not about me, is it, Father?’ Bart said, ‘All my life I have watched as you have grown into a sad and bitter old man. You desire no happiness for anyone. See how you keep my poor sister as your companion and force her to watch as you leer over every woman who comes across our path. You are nothing but a peddler of misery, Father.’

  And with that he stormed from the room, leaving the Duke brooding over another brandy.

  In the adjoining room, Mary and Cameron had heard Bart’s outburst and listened now as he paced above them in his own chamber before descending the stairs and going out into the afternoon, his destination being Springfield House.

  Upon arrival there, he asked to speak at once to Daisy, and Mrs. Killingdon informed him that she was out in the garden. Without standing upon ceremony, he rushed past her and out into the gardens where he found the three sisters taking tea with Lady Treblinger.

  From his library, his Lordship watched the young man striding across the lawn. Seeing the look of anguish on his face, he knew what was about to transpire, and no amount of brandy having changed the Duke’s mind.

  It was indeed an anguished meeting.

  ‘Daisy, I must speak with you,’ Bart said, surprising the ladies at their tea.

  On her part, she thought at first that he had come to ask for her hand, but when he drew her aside, the joyful prospect soon turned to dismay.

  ‘Forbidden?’

  ‘Yes, he will not change his mind. I was ever so angry with him; truly Daisy I have been a fool so often when it came to women, perhaps even in my treatment of your dear sister, but as you and I have come to know one another better I realise I could not love anyone but you. His anger at our union only makes my heart grow stronger, but alas I must do as he says. He would disinherit me if I did not follow his commands, and so I fear I must now say goodbye to you.’

  The formality of his departing words was too much for Daisy, and she broke down in tears, so intense that Sara rushed over to comfort her, as Bartholomew left her, unwilling to show his own emotions to the sisters of the girl whose heart he had just broken, though by no fault of his own. But the Duke could be a hard man, and his heart would not readily be changed.

  ‘Oh, darling Daisy,’ Sara said, but she was inconsolable.

  Lady Treblinger had overheard enough of the conversation to know that her opinion of the Duke would now sink further than it already was. Later, she pleaded with his Lordship to attempt some reconciliation. So aware was she of the young heart in love, and how fragile a thing it could be.

  But the magic of Bath now seemed to have come tragically to an end and after a restless night, Daisy decided she no longer wished to remain there a moment longer.

  ‘Lady Treblinger,’ she ventured at breakfast, ‘I must ask a great favour of you.’

  ‘Anything, dear, you only have to ask.’

  ‘Might I be permitted to return home? I should like to see Mother and tell her of everything that has occurred; a written letter cannot adequately convey my feelings at this time.’

  ‘You only had to ask,’ Lady Treblinger said, ‘Why, even the most wonderful places can become as a prison when one’s heart is broken, and I am sorry that it has so happened for you here.’

  ‘Oh, please do not think that it is because I was brought here that the fault occurred, I have been so truly happy here, we all have, it is just that now that spark has gone and I should like to return home.’

  ‘Then return home you shall, we will make arrangements for you this very day and you can return upon the morrow. Would that suit?’

  ‘It would indeed,’

  ‘And perhaps you girls would wish to return too? Alas we ourselves have further business here with the Hareburns, but it will not be long before we return also.’

  ‘I would not wish to leave immediately,’ Susan said, ‘I would feel such guilt if all of us left at once, but perhaps Sara might accompany our sister home?’

  Sara paused for a moment.

  To accompany Daisy home would mean that her chances of continuing her courtship with Cameron Styles would be over, though perhaps his feelings for her were enough to ensure that he would remain devoted to her and visit as he had implied.

  She felt certain that his affections for her were genuine, but to think that her stay in Bath was now to come to an abrupt end seemed somewhat sorrowful. Yet seeing the look of pain across her sister’s face and knowing it be the right thing to do, she readily consented.

  ‘Of course, dear sister,’ Sara said, ‘I shall accompany you on the morrow, but it is such a shame we shall not get to say goodbye to our new friends, even though their father and benefactor leaves so much to be desired.’

  That afternoon, she set off for the lodgings of the Dinksters, where she found Mary alone, her brother in deep despondence, locked in his room, and her father gone out to take the air.

  ‘Where is Cameron?’ Sara asked.

  ‘He had been called away to town on urgent business,’ Mary said, ‘it seems that for us all the world is coming crashing down, our happy little band displaced.’

  ‘Daisy is heartbroken at the loss,’ Sara said, ‘I cannot allow her to travel alone, but how I wished to say goodbye to Cameron.’

  ‘It would not have been goodbye,’ Mary said, ‘he is surely fallen for you, as has Bart for Daisy/. Fear not, dear friend, I shall endeavour to see to it that all comes right.’

  But Sara could not see how this could be the case, and greatly despondent, she left the lodgings of the Dinksters, she and Mary sharing a tearful farewell.

  Walking back to Springside House, she saw the Duke of Mantelhurst approaching on the other side. Knowing it to be terribly rude, but caring little, she turned her head away as he sought to acknowledge her. This caused his hardened heart some
sorrow, for he had so taken to the ladies, if only for their handsome looks.

  ~

  ‘We will see you very soon, girls,’ Lady Treblinger said as she helped Daisy and Sara into the carriage the next morning, ‘It has been a true joy; parting is such a sweet sorrow, but part we must, if only to restore your sister’s soul by the peace of Springside.’

  ‘Dear Lady Treblinger,’ Sara said, ‘please do not think we leave under a cloud, for truly the weeks spent here have been the happiest of my life.’

  ‘I know, dear,’ the Lady answered, ‘and sometimes it is happiness which alone breaks the heart.’

  ‘Goodbye Susan,’ Sara cried from the carriage as it made its way down the street, taking them away from Springside House and their sister, who was to remain with the Treblingers in Bath for two further weeks. What mixed memories each carried on their journey home. Daisy’s broken heart aching for the loss of Bart, and Sara anxious for news of Cameron and whether now they were parted he should still seek her courtship. But such sadness was tinged with joy at the memories of friends made, and the glorious city of Bath which had felt so like home these past weeks.

  ~

  We will not accompany the two sisters on their journey back to Springside that day, as one can imagine the drive passed mostly in silence, broken only by the occasional necessary interjection.

  Instead, we shall remain in Bath where at the lodgings of the Dinksters, another scene of anguish was unfolding as Cameron Styles returned from his day’s business to find Bartholomew Dinkster in the depths of despair.

  ‘Gone? What do you mean gone? He said as Bart explained what had transpired on the lawn of Springside House some days earlier.

  ‘I am forbidden, it seems,’ Bart said, ‘from marrying for love, and so I must resign myself to some aristocratic woman, deemed suitable by my father, that paradigm of expertise on womanhood.’

 

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