by Cheryl Bolen
Lord Slade facilitated the introductions between his brother and Poppinbotham, and minutes later repeated introductions when his sisters entered the huge, cold chamber.
"If I met you on Conduit Street," Lady Sarah said to the eldest of the three sisters, "I would immediately take you for sister to Captain St. John and Lord Slade. The family resemblance is very strong."
"I pray I look more feminine," Lady Mary Ann said with a laugh.
"Oh, indeed, you do. You're not at all tall, like your brothers, and you're ever so pretty." Then Lady Sarah turned her attention to the other sisters. "But I must own, the two of you look nothing like the others."
Lord Slade squashed his hand on top Lizzie's head and spoke good naturedly. "We always say Lizzie's the runt of the litter."
"Just wait," Lizzie challenged, "I'll catch up with my sisters."
"I'm afraid, Pet," said the middle sister, Lady Diana, who was the only blonde in the family, "that may not happen. You're fourteen now. Mary Ann and I were fully grown by the time we were your age."
"It's amazing to me how different the three of you are," Miss Featherstone said. She made eye contact with him. "You must be very proud of your lovely sisters."
He nodded as his gaze fanned over his sisters. "I hope I do not flatter myself that as each of them is presented, they will receive many offers of marriage. Not that I ever wish to be rid of them."
"Put that in the betting book at White's, and you could make some blunt," Captain St. John said.
Lord Slade's lips curved into a smile. "No I could not. No man would be foolish enough to take the bet."
Mr. Poppinbotham loudly cleared his throat. "Glad I am that I've no sisters I have to dower."
Money again. And the crass man had broached the one subject Slade wished to avoid. Even though Lady Sarah was bound to know he needed to marry an heiress, he hated to be obvious about it. Every lady should believe a man courted her for herself, not her money. He stiffened. "Oh, but Poppinbotham, I could never regret these delightful creatures."
Captain St. John put his arm around Lizzie. "Nor could I. It's great fun having younger sisters to tease."
"How fortunate all of you are to have grown up in a real castle," Lady Sarah said. "All my life I've adored castles."
"Has my brother shown you the priest's hole?" Captain St. John asked the lady.
Her hands flew to her dimpled cheeks as a sunny smile brightened her face. "You have a priest's hole at Dunvale?"
"Indeed we do," his brother answered, holding out his hand. "Allow me to show it to you."
The two of them disappeared around the corner.
A pity Lady Sarah was always so shy in his own presence. He wished she adopted with him the easy camaraderie she and David shared. They got along quite like affectionate brothers and sisters, which, he supposed, was a good thing, seeing as how they would be brother and sister if his plan succeeded.
Good manners dictated that Slade offer to show the priest hole to his other guests. "Should you care to see it, Miss Featherstone? Mr. Poppinbotham?"
"I should love to," Miss Featherstone said.
"Pray, my lord," Poppinbotham said, "you must explain to me about these priest holes. Am I to understand you–or your ancestors–shoved priests down a hole?"
Slade chuckled. "Ours isn't a proper hole, as you'll see, but, yes, my ancestors most certainly did hide priests after the Dissolution.
When they reached the dining room, David was demonstrating how to open the priest's hole. David, who had always been fascinated by Dunvale's priest hole, tapped at the movable panel in the center of the wood-paneled wall, and one of a series of vertical oak boards opened as if it were on hinges. The space behind the board was actually a small, windowless stone room. The opening was so narrow, a large man like Lord Slade would not be able to squeeze into the hiding chamber.
An excited Lady Sarah raced through the opening, giggling like a child. "So this is where the priests used to hide! How vastly interesting."
"It is said our ancestor, Sir Matthew St. John, defied Henry VIII and kept his Papist faith," Slade explained when she came back out.
"Indeed," David expanded, "it was not until the third generation into the Tudor regime– after the baronetcy had turned into an earldom–that the Slade family fully embraced the Church of England."
They spent the afternoon exploring the main portion of the castle.
* * *
At sweet Miss Featherstone's request, he allowed Lizzie to sit at the dinner table that evening.
His youngest sister took her place at the table between Miss Featherstone and Diana. "Thank you ever so much," Lizzie said to Miss Featherstone, "for asking that I be allowed to dine with you. Are you aware that this is the first time I've ever sat here?"
If he was not mistaken, Miss Featherstone often wore the same mint green dress as she wore tonight. Though it was limp and faded, it was not unbecoming on her.
"I was not, but I hope that every time you sit here over the course of your life, you will remember our stay here with affection."
"Oh, you may sure of it!" Lizzie glanced across the table and addressed Lady Sarah. "And I shall always remember that you were not only the prettiest lady I've ever seen but also the most fashionably dressed."
"Indeed," Diana said, her own covetous gaze whisking over the lady's elegant ivory gown. "It is exciting for hermits like us to see a reigning London beauty who has such an eye for all that is fashionable."
"La! Lady Diana, you shall put me to the blush." He could have liked a bit more modesty in his prospective wife. Lady Sarah easily accepted lavish compliments and adoration as her due.
Those at the table busied themselves filling their plates with sturgeon and French beans and passing the bowls of pickled beets and creamed potatoes.
He could not have been more pleased over the dinner. He did not know how she had contrived it, but Mary Ann had seen to it that the normally gloomy chamber was so brightly lit, it nearly looked like daytime. On the table were four braces of candelabras, and above it the massive forged iron chandelier was ringed with at least two dozen expensive wax candles.
He never failed to admire the Slade family china which bore the family's heavily gilded stag crest.
"I understand, Mr. Poppinbotham," Lady Mary Ann said, "that you plan to stand for Parliament." Leave it to his most serious-minded sister to steer conversation back to matters other than fashion and beauty.
"Indeed I do . . ." He turned to Miss Featherstone, who sat next to him. "Miss Featherstone is attempting to educate me. This lady is possessed of uncommon intelligence as well as an extraordinary breadth of knowledge on political theory." His attention returned to Lady Mary Ann. "And your estimable brother has been invaluable."
"Then I dare say my brother's got you reading Rousseau," Mary Ann mused.
The Buffoon shrugged. "I shall need to compile a reading list."
"One cannot read Rousseau and not Voltaire," Lord Slade said.
Miss Featherstone set a hand to Poppinbotham's sleeve. "And you must read Thomas Paine."
How remarkable that she would recommend Paine. "My own political philosophy was more influenced by Paine than by any other writer," Lord Slade said.
Miss Featherstone turned toward him. "Then, my lord, I dare say you must admire Edmund Burke's writings."
It was remarkable how much Miss Featherstone's thinking mirrored his own. "I cannot praise the man highly enough." He turned to Poppinbotham. "I urge you to read him, too."
"How fortunate I am to have your lordship offer such sage guidance."
Lord Slade shrugged, then made eye contact with Miss Featherstone again. "As you know, I believe your father is the best orator in the House of Commons today. Listening to him is one of my greatest pleasures. One of my greatest regrets, though, is that I never got to hear Burke."
She favored him with a smile. "It's the very same with me, my lord! Papa cannot speak highly enough of Mr. Burke's abilities as a speaker
who uses such perfect logic."
He nodded. "I understand he and Charles James Fox were two of the finest speakers ever on the floor of Commons."
Mary Ann addressed him. "I remember how excited you were that time you came down from Oxford just to hear an oration by Charles James Fox."
"I'm very glad I did." His lips folded into a grim line. "Within a year he was dead."
"My father was completely distraught over his death," Miss Featherstone added.
"I beg you not to talk of death or politics anymore," Lady Sarah said, turning her attention to David. "You must tell us of your adventures in India, Captain St. John."
David shrugged. "I fear, my lady, that my sisters would attempt to strangle me were I to accommodate your request."
"Indeed," Diana said. "We have heard the same stories scores of times."
David addressed Lady Sarah once more. "Perhaps tomorrow you will do me the goodness of allowing me to share some of my tales from India."
"I would be ever so grateful," she said, smiling shyly at him.
Mary Ann, a natural hostess, redirected the conversation, this time asking Mr. Poppinbotham about his business.
* * *
After dinner Miss Featherstone played the pianoforte in the more intimate drawing room where the cold stone floors were covered with thick Turkey carpets, the windows were draped in red velvet, and a fire blazed in the more modestly sized hearth. Despite that it was in a castle, the room had a comforting quality. She thought that could also be attributed to the blocks of dark wood paneling which sheathed the walls. The wood was so dark from age it had turned almost black.
She had quickly seized a seat in front of the instrument so she would not be called upon to sing. If one hundred ladies were to sing this evening, Miss Featherstone had no doubts she would be the worst of the lot. Because her physical attributes were greatly lacking, Miss Featherstone was possessed of just enough pride that she never wished her other defects displayed.
Lady Sarah, as the guest, sang first. Her voice perfectly matched her angelic looks. What man would not fall in love with her? How Miss Featherstone envied her cousin her many blessings. And now a new one could be added. Soon, Lady Sarah would acquire three sisters! All their lives she and Sarah had lamented they had no sisters. Did Sarah have to get everything? Could there not be a crumb left for her poor relation?
Then Miss Featherstone would feel wretchedly guilty over her jealousy. She loved Sarah and always wanted what was best for her cousin, just as Sarah wanted what was best for Jane. They had always looked upon each other as sisters.
When Lord Slade saw that Miss Featherstone was having difficulty turning the pages of the music while playing, he came and sat on the bench beside her and began to flip the pages for her. She recalled him telling her that he was a great music lover.
Instead of comforting her, though, his close proximity sent her heart racing and her hands trembling. Whatever was the matter with her? Miss Jane Featherstone had never been so profoundly affected by a man before. If only poor Mr. Poppinbotham could elicit such a reaction in her!
After each of the ladies had sung–with Miss Featherstone politely declining–Lord Slade turned to Mr. Poppinbotham. "Would you care to sing for us?"
"Oh, dear me, no. Never had time for music."
Of course he didn't. No money to be made there, Miss Featherstone thought, uncharitably. "But my dear Mr. Poppinbotham, you've spent four decades toiling to make your fortune; now it's time to indulge in life's pleasures," she said, "and music is most definitely one of those pleasures."
He offered her an appreciative smile. "'Tis blessed I am to have met the likes of you, Miss Featherstone. You not only understand me perfectly, but you know exactly what I need for the next rung on the ladder of success."
"You are a fortunate man, indeed," Lord Slade said.
Jane felt wretchedly guilty for any uncharitable thoughts she had toward the printer, er, publisher. "Tell me, Mr. Poppinbotham, do you know how to play the pianoforte?"
He shrugged. "I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I do not."
Miss Featherstone addressed him. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. You paid handsomely for a dancing master to teach you to dance, and I can vouch for his success. Why do you not engage someone to teach you the pianoforte? You are obviously an apt pupil."
The flattered man tossed a glance to their host. "You must see, my lord, how very good Miss Featherstone is for me."
She thought perhaps Lord Slade was losing his patience with the other man. He was barely civil when he said, "Indeed I do."
* * *
It was nearly midnight when the sisters showed Jane and Lady Sarah to their bedchambers on the third floor. Lady Mary Ann, holding high a brace of candles, led the way. "This is the family corridor," she said. They began to pad down the broad, stone hallway where the only source of light was a lantern sconce midway down the hall.
"How many bedchambers on this corridor?" Lady Sarah asked.
Jane could tell her cousin was clearly impressed over the monumental size of Dunvale's interior. Lord Clegg's country home was a great deal smaller.
Mary Ann set an index finger to her chin. "Let me think."
"Twelve," Lizzie announced proudly.
"The rooms we're putting you ladies in are almost identical. The only difference is Lady Sarah's is emerald colored, and Miss Featherstone's is in red. She stopped in front of a tall timber door and opened it.
Since the room was green, Jane knew it was her cousin's.
Lady Sarah hurried into the chamber where a fire glowed from the small hearth, and emerald colored broadloom carpet covered the cold stone floors. The bed was draped in velvet the same shade of green as the carpet. The occupant was elated. "What a wonderfully cozy room! Who would have thought a castle could be cozy?"
"I'm glad you like it," a clearly delighted Mary Ann said.
"Oh, I assure you, I love Dunvale," Lady Sarah said.
"We are so gratified. I hope you sleep well, Lady Sarah." Mary Ann faced Jane. "Now to your chamber, Miss Featherstone."
The fire in Jane's bedchamber had also been laid. She hoped these few days at Dunvale were not costing his lordship an excessive amount he could ill afford to spend. She had noticed at dinner that dozens of costly wax candles lighted the long oaken dining table. Such an expense!
"Thank you, Lady Mary Ann." Jane turned to the other sister. "I am ever so appreciative that you've made mine and my cousin's stay here so comforting and enjoyable." She – as well as her cousin – had taken an immediate liking to the sisters. They displayed a genuine warmth of character and well-informed minds. Just like their eldest brother.
"The joy is all ours," Diana said.
"Indeed, it is a delight to have guests," Mary Ann added.
Lizzie smiled. "Tomorrow we shall steal you away from the males and bombard you with questions about the newest fashions in London and the assemblies at Almack's."
"You're much too young to be filling your head with such things," Mary Ann chided as she set a gentle hand on her sister's shoulder and guided her from the room.
"My cousin will be happy to discourse on fashion," Jane said. "It is a subject upon which her knowledge is vast."
"I could certainly tell that by the quality of her beautiful clothing," Lady Diana said.
Mary Ann sighed. "As if one that lovely even needed beautiful clothing!"
Alone in her bedchamber, Jane dressed for bed, then climbed onto the high, curtained bed. She lay there in the semidarkness, the wood fire crackling in the grate, her thoughts spinning over the day's events before coming to settle on Mr. Poppinbotham. Until today, she had not admired the man, and while he had yet to do something to earn her respect, tonight he had won her affection.
Certainly not the same kind of affection which Lord Slade elicited in her, but now she saw Mr. Poppinbotham as a man struggling to better himself. And he needed her in order to accomplish what he wished to accomplish in life. The very notion
of being needed gave her a sense of purpose.
She tried to imagine being kissed by Mr. Poppinbotham, but the thought made her excessively uncomfortable. Not like with Lord Slade. The very idea of kissing him had a profound physical effect upon her entire person–a pleasant physical effect. Indeed, she could think of nothing which could be more pleasant.
She had come to believe that Mr. Poppinbotham meant to ask for her hand in marriage. Would he ask her on the morrow? What would be her response?
Chapter 7
"Whatever is the matter, Runt?" Lord Slade asked Lizzie as he entered the saloon the following morning and saw her reddened, teary eyes.
"My . . . my persecutor insists that I cannot get out of my lessons today." She glared at her eldest sister.
He stopped and eyed Mary Ann. "I appreciate that you have Lizzie's best interest at heart, and I'm cognizant that it's a great burden having to serve as mother and father while I'm away, but I think this once it can't hurt for her to take a day away from lessons." He knew how much Lizzie loved a picnic.
Mary Ann's features softened. "Honestly, Slade! You are such a tender heart. I knew you'd come right behind me and undermine my efforts to instill in her self-discipline."
He drilled Mary Ann with a stern look. "Can you honestly tell me Lizzie is so deficient in knowledge that she cannot miss a single day of instruction?"
"You know she's more than capable. She's too devilishly clever, by far." She mumbled under her breath. "She's entirely too much like you."
He hugged Mary Ann. "A most fortunate girl, to be sure."
Lizzie flew to him and threw her arms around him. "You are the best brother any girl ever had."
"Indeed you are, Slade." Mary Ann looked up at him with admiration shining in her eyes. "It's you who have all the burdens. It's not fair that you're saddled with all of us, and you're not yet thirty."
He stiffened. "Pray, don't ever speak like that. I count myself as the most fortunate man in the three kingdoms to have four such delightful siblings."
"All the same," Mary Ann said, "it's a pity you had to make that Vow."