The Seventh Suitor

by Laura Matthews

  She must needs leave town to avoid him. To be sure, there was probably a reason to go to Daventry, but the suddenness of it was suspicious. He felt rejected and more than normally cross. He rang for Thomas.

  Thomas was sensitive to Winterton’s moods, and he knew before his employer spoke a word that he was in a rage. Nor did Thomas miss the crumpled letter near the grate; he retrieved it and made to hand it to Winterton, who shrugged and said, “It contains a message for you. You may read it.”

  “I shall of course be happy to pick up the books for Miss Montgomery,” Thomas commented after he had finished the note. “I believe Miss Martin-Smith resides in Daventry,” he mused.

  “You think that is why they have gone?” Winterton asked sharply.

  Thomas responded blandly, “I have not the slightest idea, sir.

  “Oh, go to hell,” Winterton rasped, at which Thomas merely smiled. “Why can they not all look after their own affairs without dragging her into them?”

  “I believe you have expressed the opinion that she is an interfering wench. That would explain it,” Thomas offered.

  “Go work on some ledgers!” Winterton growled, tempted to throw his pillow at the grinning secretary.

  “Very good, sir.”

  It was with some difficulty that Kate avoided explaining to her parents why she and Ralph were leaving so abruptly for Daventry. Mrs. Montgomery querulously wondered if her children could not take a day to prepare, as she was sure they would forget half their belongings, and Mr. Montgomery was suspicious as to their errand having something to do with Charity Martin-Smith, but Kate was as calmly evasive as Ralph had been with them. While Ralph paced the entry hall and stretched his driving gloves out of recognition, Kate hugged a tearful Susan and bade her sister see that their mother enjoyed her stay in London.

  “Don’t give her anything to fret over, will you, love? And make my farewells to Mr. O’Rourke and Lady Stockton and Laura.” Kate noted Ralph’s increased agitation to be off; his hair stood on end once more from his absently running his fingers through it. She put her sister aside with, “Enjoy yourself, Susan. I’ll see you at the Hall this summer.”

  Ralph barely took the time to make his own farewell to his younger sister before he was out the door and seated in the curricle. When Kate was seated he started to thread their way through the London traffic, past brewers’ drays and elegant equipages, and they soon left the city noises behind them. At the Green Man he changed teams and made arrangements for his bays to be brought forward to Daventry. When Kate had begun to think that he intended to pass every inn on the road, and allow them to starve, he halted at the red brick White Horse in Hockliffe and ordered a private parlor for them. The landlord brought in coffee, cheese, cold meat, and bread while Kate watched the Holyhead Mail sent off in a flurry of hooves and the arrival of the Chester Mail bound for London.

  Ralph took a sip of the coffee, stretched out his legs, and remarked, “We’re half-way there now. I suppose it will be too late to see Charity tonight.”

  “Yes, but you can send a message round to the vicarage that you’ll call in the morning.”

  “Oh, lord, Kate, I’ve just remembered. I didn’t arrange for the purchase of the chestnut before I left.”

  “Well, Papa will be leaving for the Hall tomorrow or the next day, so it is too late to write him. There will be other horses.”

  “Yes,” Ralph agreed with a grin, “this business is much more important than that.”

  “Do remember that Charity has only agreed to explain why she rejected you, Ralph. It may be a matter which cannot be overcome,” Kate cautioned.

  A worried frown creased his brow, but he said nothing then or for the remainder of the journey about Charity. Aunt Eleanor greeted Kate enthusiastically and welcomed Ralph with a concerned warmth that made his sister wonder if he had yet more problems in store for him. Mr. Hall accepted their advent with his usual good humor and applauded their choice of arriving on a day when a beef roast and a raised pigeon pie were available and both still warm in the kitchen.

  The Montgomerys soon sat down to a meal, but not before Ralph had scribbled a note to Charity and had it sent round. Aunt Eleanor brought Kate up to date on the happenings in Daventry, and Uncle Hall and Ralph discussed horses.

  “I have failed miserably in ridding myself of Dawson’s housekeeper. She is an admirable woman and in need of the position, but I really cannot like her,” Aunt Eleanor confessed.

  “Did you suggest that she take over your old house?”

  “I tried, my dear, but she would not hear of such a sacrifice on my part. She has no small conception of her abilities, you understand.”

  “I daresay. Well, let me think about it a while and see what I can arrange,” Kate suggested.

  “Anything you can do will be appreciated.”

  “And I,” Kate replied, lowering her voice, “appreciate what you have done for Ralph. I gather there is an obstacle still to overcome, but you cannot know how grateful Ralph is to be given another chance.”

  Eleanor sighed. “He has a very difficult decision ahead of him, love. I’m glad you came along. How is Susan getting on in town?”

  “Very well. Lady Stockton had a ball (was that just last night?) and Susan and Laura were both very well-received. Patrick O’Rourke has been visiting us, too, and the two of them played his own trick on him when first they met. He was decidedly annoyed with me that I had disclosed what he called his one accomplishment.” Kate took a sip of her wine and brushed her hair back with a tired hand. “We completed the drive down in good time, but I find that I am wearied with the excitement of the day.”

  “We’ll have you to bed early, then,” Eleanor promised. “Was Lord Winterton in town?”

  “Yes. We saw him several times.”

  “Is he pleased with your book?”

  Kate’s lips twitched at the memory of Lord Winterton’s reaction to her book. “He was in his nightshirt when he read it,” Kate said mischievously, “and he allowed as how it would do.”

  “Kate!”

  “I’m only teasing you, Aunt Eleanor. He was sick at the time, and Mr. Single chaperoned us quite properly, I assure you. In fact, he seemed delighted with your drawings and said that the book was very good. I left it to be printed in London, and Mr. Single, I hope, will pick it up for me.”

  “Are you to write more of them?”

  “I believe Mr. Single would like me to do one about a chandler’s shop next. I visited one in London, but it was so busy that I could not ask questions. Perhaps Mr. Cofley here will accommodate me.”

  “I’m sure he would be happy to do so. He is one of your admirers, you know.”

  “And he is a dear.”

  “How is Ralph’s farm? He deserted it for London?”

  “Benjamin was staying on, and Ralph has been pursuing the matter in London. He found a chestnut at Tattersall’s that he wanted, but in his hurry to be off here he forgot to arrange to have it purchased for him.”

  They adjourned to the parlor and talked for some time before retiring. Eleanor showed them to their rooms and sent a maid to Kate, who expected to sleep the moment her head touched the pillow. But tired as she was, she felt restless. Her thoughts turned to Ralph and Charity, and eventually to Winterton.

  Really, there was nothing for it but to admit that he was showing an interest in her. Perhaps it meant nothing. For all she knew, it was his standard social practice. But she doubted it. Her defection today would merely fuel his previous disapproval of her, and likely determine him to avoid her in future. She sighed, decided a bit wistfully there was nothing she could do about that, and went to sleep.

  Ralph left the house in High Street at ten the next morning, since Aunt Eleanor had informed him that the Martin-Smiths rose early. He was very nervous, and Kate straightened his cravat before he left with a word of encouragement. He smiled solemnly and departed murmuring, “Wish me luck!”

  For all his rush of the previous day he wandered
to the vicarage with a notable lack of speed. He was not sure how he should approach this meeting. When he eventually found himself at the door of a vine-covered house with spring flowers poking up all about, he hesitantly knocked and shifted from one foot to the other, still undecided. He was shown into a neat, cheerfully furnished parlor where he found Charity seated, an open book in her lap. Ralph found himself unable to say a word.

  Charity rose and smiled a warm greeting at him. “It is good to see you, Ralph. Come and sit by me. I thought you would rather not have to meet my parents and my sister before we talk.”

  Ralph seated himself stiffly on the chair beside hers and, encouraged by her obvious pleasure in seeing him, said, “Thought I’d never see you again, Charity. I have no right to expect explanations, I know, but I’m very grateful you’d see me. Kate and I drove up immediately we had Aunt Eleanor’s letter.”

  Charity took a deep breath and looked down at her hands which lay quietly in her lap. “Ralph, your Aunt Eleanor has been most kind to me, and it was she who convinced me that you have the right to judge for yourself if I did right to refuse you.”

  Ralph shrugged helplessly. “I want to marry you, Charity. I’m very fond of you, but I can see I’m no bargain. I don’t blame you if you don’t want to marry me.”

  Charity’s face flushed softly. She, too, made a helpless gesture with the hands she continued to contemplate and whispered, “And I am fond of you, Ralph. It is not for lack of regard that I refused you. What I am going to tell you now will explain that. Please do not say anything until I am finished. Will you promise me that?”

  “Yes,” he answered simply, meeting her eyes.

  “Years ago I was warned by our family doctor that it is very unlikely that I can have children,” she said gently. His shocked expression made her return her gaze to her hands once again. “I made him promise me that he would not tell my family, for I know that it would be very distressing to them.”

  She swallowed unhappily. “I know that you are fond of children and that as the only son you must look to carry on the Montgomery name and estates through your own children. Of course, you might marry someone who did not have children, and you would have to accept that. But I am aware of this problem and therefore could not marry anyone without disclosing it.”

  “But why did you not tell me?” Ralph asked, his voice agonized.

  “Some years ago I was offered for by a nice young man of whom I was rather fond. When I told him, he was very distressed, and I did not see him again. It happened a second time, with the same results, and I decided that it was my own problem and I should not place the burden on any man again. It is a burden I felt I must bear alone.”

  Charity paused for a moment and raised her eyes to his face. “I was unable to bear it alone,” she admitted sadly, “and eventually told your aunt. She said you had a right to know. I could not be sure if that was true. I did not wish to hurt you further.” A lone tear clung precariously to her eyelash and splashed onto her cheek when she hastily blinked her eyes to clear them.

  Ralph jumped from his chair, clumsily drawing his handkerchief from his pocket. He knelt before her and dabbed at the tear-stain. “You silly goose!” he exclaimed. “Of course a family is important, but it is not as important as having you.”

  Charity stared at him in amazement. “You cannot know what you are saying! Your parents, even your sisters, would be very distressed. You have not thought, my dear.”

  “Listen to me, my love. As you say, I could marry someone who did not have children, without ever knowing beforehand. But I do not want to marry anyone but you. There are sufficient Montgomerys in England already. Who cares what happens to my property when I am dead? Surely I cannot. Charity, we have years and years ahead of us. Kate and Susan can bring their children to us for visits; I’m sure they’ll have tons of ‘em. We might even come in the way of adopting a child.”

  “Oh, Ralph, you must want a son of your own to teach to ride, to hunt, to carry on the name and the estates. You are not considering!”

  “I know only that if you’ll marry me I shall be the happiest of fellows,” Ralph proclaimed steadily. He smiled at her and took her trembling hand in his two firm ones. “Please say you will.”

  “You must discuss it with your parents. They would not approve,” she faltered.

  “This is a matter for me alone to decide,” he said firmly. “And I have made my decision.”

  Charity smiled tremulously at him and touched his cheek gently with a shaking finger. “For my sake, I would have you think on it for a day. I shall not be angry if you change your mind. It were better that you did now than after we are wed.”

  “Then you will marry me?” he cried exultantly.

  “If you are of the same mind tomorrow, yes, my dear, I will marry you. But I beg that you will give it serious thought. It is a very important decision and one not to be taken lightly.”

  “All right,” he said solemnly. “I shall consider the matter thoroughly and return tomorrow at the same time to see you.”

  “You might discuss it with Kate. She will see the wisdom of what I have told you, and may be able to convince you of your folly.” She smiled shyly at him and rose. “And do not be distressed to come to me tomorrow with a different decision. I shall perfectly understand.”

  “You are the most wonderful of women, Charity. I shall see you tomorrow.” He strode purposefully out of the room, retrieved his hat, gloves, and cane in the hall and left the house. Charity stood by the window and watched him walk down the street, a tender smile curving her mouth. Even should he change his mind, she would treasure forever his words of this day. When he rounded the corner she turned back into the room with a sigh.

  Chapter 17

  Winterton roamed about his townhouse for several hours after the arrival of Kate’s note. He should like to have taken his annoyance out upon the servants and Thomas, but he could hear as clearly as though she stood in front of him Miss Montgomery’s pert remarks on his disruption of his household when he was sick. He ordered that his favorite stallion be brought round and took himself off for a ride in the park. The spring day showed signs of impending rain now, but the grass smelled fresh and there were flowers blossoming here and there along the way. It was possible for moments at a time to imagine oneself back in the country when one heard the trill of birdsong.

  After a half-hour’s ride Winterton came upon his ward and Miss Susan, her friend Laura, and Mr. O’Rourke. They hailed him and he reined in to ride with them for a moment. “I understand your sister and brother have gone to Daventry, Miss Susan,” he remarked.

  “Why, yes,” Susan replied, surprised. “They left but a few hours ago.”

  “I hope there is nothing amiss.”

  “Really, they were very mysterious,” Susan volunteered ingenuously. “But I am sure nothing is wrong with Aunt Eleanor or her husband, or I would have been told.”

  “As you say,” Winterton agreed. “Did Ralph arrange to purchase the chestnut?”

  Susan looked puzzled. “I have no idea, Lord Winterton.”

  “Ask your father, if you will. If he leaves before sale day, I can see to the matter.”

  “That is kind of you, sir. I will speak with him.”

  Winterton turned his attention to his ward for a few agreeable words, and then dropped back to ride beside Laura and O’Rourke. “A very successful ball, Miss Stockton. My compliments to your mother.”

  “Thank you, Lord Winterton. I must admit that I enjoyed it myself.” She smiled shyly at O’Rourke, who grinned in return.

  “Sure an’ the ton keep extravagant hours,” O’Rourke teased her. “The poor working fellow has not time for any sleep at all.”

  “But there is always time for a ride,” Winterton remarked, with a smile to take the edge off his words.

  “If there were not,” O’Rourke remarked resolutely, “I would not work.”

  Laura giggled, and Winterton acknowledged the justice of such a philosoph
y. He then bade the young people farewell and rode off, leaving them to discuss him.

  “He did not used to be so friendly,” Susan confided to Charles.

  “Don’t I know it! Kate says he must be mellowing in his old age, but whatever it is, I cannot object. You don’t know why Kate and Ralph went to your aunt’s?”

  Behind them the other couple, who had only recently met Winterton, were likewise commenting on his lordship.

  “Not so easy-going as his brother Carl was, of course,” O’Rourke commented sadly, “but not such a bad fellow, either. He seems to have adopted the Montgomerys.”

  “They’re neighbors, and Susan told me that Ralph and Carl were the greatest of friends,” Laura said.

  “I suppose that might be it,” O’Rourke said dubiously, and they rode on discussing other matters.

  That evening Winterton was brought round a note from Brook Street, sent by Mr. Montgomery this time, in response to Susan’s query. He informed Winterton that he was returning to Montgomery Hall in the morning. Ralph had been in a hurry when leaving and had not mentioned the chestnut, so Mr. Montgomery did not know for sure whether he had intended to purchase the animal. He thanked Lord Winterton for his offer of assistance, but allowed as how he thought he would let the matter ride.

  Winterton did know that Ralph intended to purchase the animal, for he had said as much the previous evening. But Winterton assured himself that he was not responsible for that young man’s carelessness. And Miss Montgomery would see, if the matter ever came up, that he had done his best for Ralph by his offer of assistance. Drat the chit! What the hell did he care what she thought about him? One more note was crumpled, and this time it successfully landed on the burning grate.

  * * * *

  When Ralph returned to his aunt’s home he inquired for Kate straightaway and was informed that she was in the garden. He found her there with a basket over her arm snipping some spring flowers for the house. She turned at his footsteps and anxiously surveyed his countenance. There was an air of suppressed excitement about him, thinly veiled by a mock serious expression.