The Seventh Suitor

by Laura Matthews

  At least this time, Kate thought, I have something to occupy my time. She headed for the back parlor to work on the book, but Susan was having trouble containing her excitement these days and came to sit with her sister.

  “You will teach me how to go on, will you not? And where to find the proper clothes? Mama has not been to town for so many years that she is afraid she will not know who is fashionable nowadays. And Mama will need to have new gowns, too,” Susan said, eyeing her sister beseechingly.

  “Dear Susan, I shall help you in whatever I can, but I have no superior knowledge of London. Aunt Eleanor and I have been through town many times, but I never had to undergo the rigors of a season. Lady Stockton and Laura will teach you how to go on. And I should have thought your wardrobe quite adequate already. We have packed two trunks for you,” Kate reminded her.

  “Oh, Kate, you know those are the merest fripperies. I probably shall not be able to wear the half of them, for Bristol seamstresses are certain to be far behind London in fashion. And Mama insists that I shall not buy a hat until we reach town!”

  “From what I have seen in the Ladies’ Magazine I do not blame her. I am sure you could never find anything so gaudy or impractical in Bristol.”

  “And have you anything decent to wear?” Susan asked with concern.

  “My dear sister, you will not be ashamed of me. I shall show you some gowns I got in London last year which have hardly been worn. They are safely packed away for just such a venture.”

  The sisters adjourned to Kate’s room and Susan was duly impressed with her sister’s wardrobe, for it was elegant if small. “I shall only be there a week or so, hardly time enough to wear everything,” Kate assured her. “But I would ask a favor of you, Susan. Do you think you would have time to look me out a piece of lace for this blue satin? It really needs something about the cuffs, don’t you think?”

  Susan considered it thoughtfully. “I have just the thing! And I will sew it on for you right now.”

  Having thus successfully disposed of her sister for an hour, Kate returned to the back parlor to work on the children’s book, which she had had to put aside for the last week. Her aunt’s drawings inspired her to weave a story around the little lad who appeared in many of them, and she felt a sense of satisfaction when she left it for luncheon.

  Although the demands were heavy in the last days before their departure, she spent many hours on the book. She was truly disappointed two days before her journey to receive a note from Thomas Single excusing himself from calling because Lord Winterton was ill. “I should come regardless, you understand, but his lordship is such an irascible patient that I fear for the household were I to depart for several hours.”

  Kate could have wept with frustration; she had finished the book and wished to have Mr. Single see it before she left. It had actually been her plan, if he found it acceptable, to take it to London and have it printed while she was there.

  “Papa,” she began, when she had tracked him down, “would it be all right, do you think, if I drove over to Winter Manor with Betsy? I really should like Mr. Single to see the book before we leave for London and have his comments on it.”

  “Does he not usually come here?”

  “Yes, but Winterton is ill, and Mr. Single refuses to leave the Manor.”

  “I suppose it would be acceptable. I know you’re anxious to be finished before we go to London,” he said indulgently.

  “Thank you, Papa. I shall drive carefully,” she forestalled him.

  Spring had taken over the countryside. The lanes were muddy, but the trees sporting their new greenery made up for the splatters. There were even some spring flowers to be seen, their color splashed against the neat farmhouses. Everything looked fresh, and Kate almost regretted leaving the country for town at such a time.

  Betsy sat quietly as they rode; then, nerving herself, she asked Kate a question which had been on her mind for some time now. “Do you think, Miss Kate, that I could learn to read?” she asked shyly.

  “Why, Betsy, I feel sure you could. It never occurred to me that you did not know how. What a fool I am! Spending all this time writing a book for children to learn to read from and not once considering that there are those on the estate who have never learned! Let me think about it for a while, Betsy.” For the remainder of the journey Kate turned the matter over in her mind, and she determined to speak with Mr. Single about it.

  Thomas was surprised when Kate was announced, but he directed that she be shown to his office immediately. “I hope you will forgive me for interrupting you at such a time, Mr. Single, but I was anxious that you see the book before I leave for London.” She seated herself in the chair he drew up for her and handed him the package. “You will note that my aunt has done some illustrations, which I think are excellent.”

  Kate sat back in her chair and tried not to look anxious while Thomas went through the package carefully. He made several marks as he progressed and finally looked up at her, smiling. “This is exactly what we need, Miss Montgomery. I have changed a few words which would be especially difficult for the children because they are not pronounced as they are spelled. Your aunt’s drawings are perfect. And . . .” He was interrupted by a soft tap on the door.

  Manner entered soundlessly at Thomas’s call and excused himself for intruding. “His lordship,” he announced grimly, “is in immediate need of your services.”

  Thomas cast his eyes heavenward and begged Miss Montgomery to excuse him for a few moments. “More likely half an hour,” he mumbled as he strolled out the door.

  However, he returned within ten minutes and seemed somewhat embarrassed. “Lord Winterton has requested that you wait on him in his bedchamber,” he said apologetically. “I informed him that I did not think it proper for you to do so, but he insisted there could be no impropriety if I were present. He is past the contagious stage, at least,” he offered.

  “Contagious stage of what?” Kate asked incredulously.

  “I don’t think he would appreciate my telling you,” Thomas said with a laugh. “He contracted the disease while visiting another of his projects, so it was all in a worthy cause.”

  When Kate did not offer any objection, Thomas picked up her book and preceded her to the door. “I must warn you,” he said with twinkling eyes, “that he is in a foul mood.”

  “One seldom sees him otherwise,” Kate retorted primly and allowed Thomas to lead her up the magnificent staircase.

  The room she entered after a considerable walk was nearly the entire width of the west wing of the Manor. Although she was impressed by the size of the room, it paled in comparison with the bed on which Lord Winterton lay. Delicately carved, tapering bedposts supported a japanned cornice which acted as frame for a magnificently domed tester. The dome was surmounted by carved armorial bearings, and four pairs of turtle-doves marked the four corners of the tester and served as finials for the bedposts. Valances of blue damask hid the legs and had overdrapings of white tasseled swags. The curtains and tester were of blue damask and the counterpane was white.

  “What are you staring at?” Winterton asked irritably.

  “I am overcome by your lordship’s bed,” Kate replied reverently, hoping that her voice would carry the thirty feet from the door to this magnificent structure.

  “I should have prepared you,” Thomas whispered aside.

  Kate shook with mirth as she approached Lord Winterton, and one glance at his face undid her. “You have the measles!” she exclaimed and burst into laughter. Even his steely-eyed glare could not stop her, and she dropped helplessly into a chair Thomas thoughtfully pushed forward.

  Winterton assumed his most haughty expression and remarked quietly, “I cannot abide a hysterical female.”

  “Shall I leave?” Kate inquired, as she rose and wiped her eyes.

  “Sit down!” he bellowed. “And control yourself.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “I have something to say to you.”

  �
��Yes, my lord.”

  “And stop yes-my-lording me,” he growled.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I want you to know that I have sustained a most unwelcome visit from Lord Romsey, all on your account.”

  “I am sure I never sent him to you. I would have remembered.”

  “He came, so he informed me, to solicit my support for his son in the matter of acquiring a seat in Parliament,” Winterton retorted dauntingly.

  “Oh.”

  “Is that all you can say for yourself?”

  “I think we should be quite pleased with the results of our venture,” Kate informed him smugly.

  “Do you?”

  “Of course. If you did not want Geoffrey to run for a seat, you should not have helped me. I did not really thank you for the effort, but I am grateful, and I had no idea you had brought such fine results.”

  “I should not consider a two-hour visit from a bore like Romsey to be in the nature of a fine result!”

  “Did he mention anything about Terence Marsh? Did we make any progress there?” Kate asked, intent on ignoring his heavy sarcasm.

  “No,” Winterton replied exasperatedly, “he did not mention Marsh.”

  “Well, one of two is not bad.”

  Before Winterton could unleash his growing choler, Thomas stepped forward and handed him Kate’s book. “I have advised Miss Montgomery that this is exactly what we need. I thought you might care to see it.”

  Winterton glared once more at Kate before carefully perusing the package. “Who did the drawings?”

  “My Aunt Eleanor,” Kate said softly.

  “They are excellent. And the book will serve,” he commented gruffly.

  Thomas regarded his employer reproachfully, and Winterton relented. “This book is very good, Miss Montgomery. I shall have the whole printed and it will be in . . .”

  “No,” Kate interrupted.

  Winterton looked at her blankly, and Thomas showed his dismay. “I shall have it printed,” Kate informed them. “How many will be needed?”

  “I have always intended to have it printed,” Winterton responded stiffly, while Thomas smiled at her, shrugged, and said, “Twenty will do.”

  “Excellent. That is settled,” Kate replied and rose to leave. “Good Lord!” she exclaimed suddenly, turning to Thomas. “He was not contagious when he was at the Hall for dinner, was he? If anything happens to spoil Susan’s season . . .”

  “No, no, Miss Montgomery,” Thomas soothed her. “It was the day following that he visited the sick ward. I’m sure you have nothing to alarm you on that score.”

  “Thank heaven,” Kate breathed with relief. “Oh, and I wanted a word with you on another matter before I leave, Mr. Single, if you might spare a moment.”

  “I am in need of Mr. Single’s services, Miss Montgomery,” Winterton informed her coldly.

  Kate turned to stare at him. “You should be ashamed of yourself, setting your whole household on its ears for a simple case of the measles,” she scoffed. “I’m sure Mr. Single has better things to do than wait upon you.”

  “But, Miss Montgomery,” Thomas interposed, scarlet with embarrassment, “I am employed for just that purpose.”

  “Stuff! Lord Winterton promised me three hours a week of your time, and I am sure you would be better employed to that purpose than bringing him vinaigrettes and . . . and hot bricks!”

  “I have never used a vinaigrette in my life,” Winterton rasped.

  “Well, I shall send you one to keep you company!”

  Thomas choked and turned aside to cough quietly, unable to meet the Earl’s blazing eyes. Kate regarded Winterton intently, her own eyes snapping, until he burst into laughter. “I should like you to know, Thomas,” he informed his secretary, “that Miss Montgomery once informed her maid in my hearing that I am just like any other man.”

  Kate blushed but said defiantly, “And so you are.”

  Winterton considered her defiant little chin, her blushing cheeks, her straight nose, and her steady brown eyes. No wonder Carl had been so taken with her, he thought, only to bring himself up sharply. He was not aware that he spoke aloud when he said, “Good God, I must be weaker than I thought I was.”

  Kate thought he was castigating himself for having no retort for her. Thomas, however, sensed the effect of Kate’s presence on his employer and had a clearer understanding of the words. We are in for some prime sport, he thought with the usual twinkle in his eye. His lordship will hardly allow himself an easy time of it, after all he has said of her.

  Kate was contrite, imagining she had overtired Winterton. “Pardon me, sir. I should not have stayed so long or been such a nuisance. I hope you feel more the thing very soon.” She made a little curtsy and headed for the door.

  “Do you go to London for the season?” he called after her, cursing himself for this attempt to delay her.

  “No. Just for a week or so to see Susan and Mama settled,” she turned to answer. “I would be grateful if . . . when you get there. . . You are going, are you not?”

  “Yes. What is it I can do for you?” he asked encouragingly.

  “Mama has not been to London for so long, and there are so many loose screws there. I know Ralph means to keep an eye out for Susan, but he is . . . not so very happy just now.” Kate stared disconsolately at the package in her hands and wished she had not begun this request.

  “Is it so very difficult to ask a favor of me?” Winterton queried, a small frown on his brow.

  “I cannot think why I should ask you at all,” Kate replied frankly. “It is nothing to do with you, of course. I must leave you to rest now.” She managed to slip out the door Thomas patiently held open before Winterton could speak again.

  Once in the corridor Kate followed Thomas in silence the lengthy distance to the stairs before she remembered her need to discuss Betsy’s request with him. “On the way here my maid was asking me about learning to read. Do you think I could teach her?”

  “Certainly, Miss Montgomery,” Thomas responded. “There is no mystery to teaching. It requires only the desire, knowledge, and a vast quantity of patience.”

  “Ah, well, patience is not one of my attributes, as you have seen. But I could try. Do all the servants at Winter Manor know how to read?” she asked curiously.

  “Most of them. Lord Winterton employs children from the school sometimes, and my brother’s wife teaches those others who wish to learn.”

  “Your brother lives nearby?”

  “He has the living at Stasby,” Thomas explained. “His wife takes it as her responsibility to do for the minds what my brother attempts to do for the souls. Perhaps you could talk with her when you return from London.”

  “I should like that. Thank you, Mr. Single, for all the help you’ve given me.”

  “It has been my pleasure, Miss Montgomery, I assure you. I seldom get the opportunity to hear the Earl scolded.” He shook hands with her solemnly and escorted her and Betsy to their waiting carriage. “Enjoy your trip to London.”

  Chapter 14

  The Montgomerys set out for London with an impressive entourage. Mrs. Montgomery, Kate, and Susan rode in the traveling carriage, followed by Ralph with a groom in the repaired curricle, and Mr. Montgomery mounted on his favorite stallion. A further carriage followed with various servants and luggage piled high and tied on. Bringing up the rear were several grooms who would proceed at a slower pace to bring the Montgomery horses forward when they were changed after the second stage each day.

  The procession started early on a sunny day in late March, and Susan felt decidedly ill with the excitement, the anticipation, and the swaying of the carriage. Kate drew forth several guide books from the bundle at her feet and enlisted Susan’s help in identifying various landmarks as they progressed. Kate kept up a flow of discourse on her previous travels and their amusing aspects while Susan grew accustomed to the motion. By the time the first change was made at the White Lion in Bath, Susan looked better and Mrs. Mo
ntgomery was so familiar with the movement that she was dozing easily.

  After luncheon in Pickwick, Mr. Montgomery joined them in the carriage. They passed the hamlet of Cross Keys and climbed Rowden Hill toward Chippenham with its narrow streets and balustraded bridge over the Avon. Kate spent most of the afternoon pointing out the sights and discussing London ways with Susan. They saw the White Horse carved in chalk near Cherhill and the Lansdowne Column; Kate talked of the strange Silbury Hill and the Druid stones at Avebury. Eventually Susan fell asleep, and Kate produced a volume of Sense and Sensibility from her bundle and proceeded to read until they began to draw close to Marlborough, where they were to dine and spend the night.

  Ralph had passed them along the way and had arranged matters at The Castle, and Kate smiled gratefully at him as they went directly to their rooms to refresh themselves before their meal. Although the rest of the family were content to rest quietly before retiring early, Kate urged Ralph to walk about the town with her, for she was desirous of some exercise after a whole day cooped up in the carriage.

  It was growing dark, and Kate was intrigued by the lights to the east of town, so she and Ralph directed their steps in that direction. Coming around the spur of the hill at the entrance to town, they were fascinated by the spectacle of a gypsy encampment—white tents, caravans, fires burning, bronzed figures in brightly colored clothes. As Kate began to ascend the steep hill for a closer look, Ralph expostulated, “Don’t think you should, Kate. Rather wild-looking people. Haven’t a weapon with me.”

  “Pooh. We shall come to no harm. I would like a closer look, and I’ll be bound you would, too,” she retorted.

  Since he could not deny this obvious truth, they trudged nearer to the encampment and were greeted by an old, wrinkled woman who pressed them to let her tell their fortunes. Ralph was aghast at such a suggestion, but Kate, with glowing eyes, said, “I should like to know what she has to say, Ralph,” and seated herself on the offered stool.