Love or Title: The Colchester Sisters

by Darcy, Charlotte

  As much as he claimed not to understand the feminine world, Edward Colchester seemed to have a natural instinct for such things.

  “Well, I thought it would be all too complicated if the three of us joined them,” Mr. Colchester said with an amused smile. “What with you looking for any signs of true love in his eyes and Verity trying to frighten him away.” He chuckled and was visibly pleased when his family joined in.

  “Oh, Papa!” Esme said, feeling the flush of being the center of things. “You do tease.”

  “It is one of life’s few pleasures.”

  “Is that so?” Elizabeth Colchester forgot all about the invitation for a moment as she placed her hands on her hips and tried not to laugh as she scowled at her husband.

  “One of.” Edward looked sheepish.

  “Was the Marquis a nice man, Esme?” Verity asked in a more serious tone than the rest of her family.

  “Yes, very nice indeed,” Esme said, remembering his dark hair and blue eyes and smiling at the thought.

  “He was a polite young man,” her mother agreed. “But really, a person would need more than twenty minutes to decide upon his character.”

  “You did not like him, Mama?” Esme asked a little defensively.

  “What I saw of him I liked, my dear. But we are going to afternoon tea at Longton Hall, so I am certain we will find out a little more of his character then. These are early days, are they not?”

  “Early days?” Esme felt a little flat suddenly.

  Her mother had come into the drawing room with such excitement and now it seemed as if the whole thing was going to be ruined by misplaced common sense. For Esme was certain that she was a good judge of character and even more certain that she could have the measure of a person in no time at all. As far as she could see, Daniel Winsford had everything a young man should in terms of status and character. Oh, and he was really very handsome. So handsome that she had hardly slept for thinking about him ever since the garden party.

  “I know how you are when it comes to choosing a young man, Esme. I would not want you to be blinded by everything that he is before you truly know him. I suppose I am advising you not to become fixed upon him. After all, there are a lot of nice young men out in the world.” Her mother spoke in the soothing tones which had always marked Esme’s childhood out as warm and wonderful.

  “As you say, I will be able to get to know him better when we go to Longton Hall,” Esme said, not wanting to argue with the mother she loved so dearly.

  “He seemed very interested in you, Esme,” Jane said, and it was clear she was determined to be excited about it all.

  “How do you know? Have you not just complained that I kept you out of the way?” Their father was amusing himself again.

  “I could tell by the way he stood,” Jane said defiantly, and all present laughed. “You might find it amusing, but it is true. He turned towards you and looked directly at you whenever you spoke. Really, I thought he was quite charming.”

  “He was charming,” Esme said gratefully.

  “But he could have been saying anything, Jane.” Edward Colchester was not ready to let it go.

  “Papa!” Jane said. “Really! You are not helping at all.”

  “Then I shall keep quiet and promise faithfully to behave myself at Longton Hall.” He stared off into the middle distance, his greying hair and pale blue eyes full of amusement. He was a much-adored father. “Imagine it, Mr. and Mrs. Colchester being invited to the home of a Marquis. How on earth is a simple man like me to afford such a dowry?”

  “Papa! It is only afternoon tea!” Esme said, and the room became raucous again.

  “What on earth is going on?” Amos, the eldest of the Colchester offspring, came into the drawing room wide-eyed and ready to join in.

  He had been out riding and looked healthy and fresh, smelling a little of the outdoors, like dried linen brought in from the washing line.

  “Esme has finally found a young man who fits her ideas of suitability, nay society’s ideas, and he has invited her to tea with Mama and Papa on Wednesday,” Verity said, reducing the whole thing to its most basic parts.

  “Thank you, Verity, for your brevity,” Amos said as he wandered into the room, pausing to ruffle Verity’s already ruffled hair en route. “Nobody tells a tale like you do, my dear.”

  “What do you think of it all?” Jane asked, making room on the pretty but uncomfortable brocade-covered couch for her brother to sit beside her. “Esme met him at Lord and Lady Hollerton’s garden party.”

  “I am sorry I missed it now,” Amos said and laughed. “But who are we talking about? Who is this fine young man who meets every one of Esme’s stringent requirements?” In temperament and humor, Amos Colchester was much like his father.

  “Daniel Winsford,” Esme said shyly. “He is the Mar…” She began, but Amos cut in.

  “The Marquis of Longton,” he said with confidence.

  “Oh, do you know him?” Esme asked excitedly.

  “I know of him and I have seen him from time to time at hunting events.” He shrugged. “You found him pleasing?” Amos seemed tentative.

  “Yes, his manners were very nice indeed.” Esme was wondering if she was imagining Amos’ change in demeanor.

  “And you are to go to Longton Hall on Wednesday?” he went on.

  “Yes, we are to go to afternoon tea.”

  “I believe that Lady Longton is a most pleasant lady,” Amos said with enthusiasm.

  “Oh yes, she is.” Their mother came back into the conversation, keen to sing the praises of the Marquis’ mother.

  And, as the family began to discuss Lady Longton and her mother’s connection to that fine woman, Esme studied her brother for any sign that he knew more of the Marquis than he had said. But for all the world, Esme could see nothing out of the ordinary.

  Chapter 4

  Longton Hall appeared quite suddenly after what seemed like the longest estate driveway she had ever been on. But of course, it was the longest driveway she had ever seen because it was the largest estate she had ever been to.

  Although the Colchesters had been invited to many fine events and were a well-respected family of some considerable wealth, invitations to the homes of Barons formed the larger part of their society experience. Earls, Marquises, and Dukes were quite something else altogether.

  And Longton Hall, when she first looked upon it, was enough to take Esme Colchester’s breath away. It was built in immaculate grey stone with the warm sunshine reflected in dozens of windows on the front elevation alone.

  When their carriage drew up on the graveled front of Longton Hall, Esme could see that the wide stone steps leading to an immaculate flag stoned platform outside the immense doors were easily as large as the drawing room of her father’s fine manor house.

  Two footmen stood one on either side of the doorway in their fine livery, their responsibility nothing more than standing sentinel as their master’s guests made their way inside.

  The butler, austere but still managing to be welcoming, smiled at them and she was sure that he could sense a little of the family’s nervousness on their first visit to such a fine and imposing home.

  “Mr. Colchester, Mrs. Colchester.” The butler nodded as he bowed. “And Miss Colchester.” He reserved a small smile for the youngest in the party of three. “His Lordship and Lady Longton are awaiting you in the drawing room, if you would care to follow me.”

  “Thank you,” Edward Colchester said in a firm and easy tone which made Esme proud of him.

  Esme and her parents followed the butler, pausing in the great entrance hall to remove their light summer outerwear and the ladies’ bonnets before proceeding.

  By the time they reached the door to the sitting room, Esme was already a dreadful bundle of nerves. And not only was she nervous, but she was also lost.

  They had taken so many turns through so many corridors and passed so many heavy oak doors that she was certain she would never find her way
out of the building alone. Not, of course, that she imagined she would need to, but it crossed her mind nonetheless.

  Esme looked down at herself appraisingly, hoping at this late stage that she had put enough effort in. She had been keen to dress well for the afternoon, but equally keen not to overdo things and show herself up as being inexperienced in such situations.

  Her parents had not worried at all, although it was clear that they were dressed appropriately. But perhaps that was simply a facet of being older and settled in life, such worries did not concern one as they once did.

  But Esme had chosen very carefully, making sure, as always, that she wore a color most suitable to her chestnut hair which always seemed just a little redder in the summertime. She had picked a muted pale green gown in a heavy cotton. It had a dark green wide satin band beneath the bust and its sleeves were short and puffed with a little lace trim around the cuff.

  The fabric itself was embroidered with a thread of the same color as the gown. The small embroidery flowers were neat and discreet but gave the fabric of her gown a wonderful depth.

  Her maid, Violet, had helped to curl her hair into beautiful shining chestnut ringlets, with just one or two of the shorter ringlets falling in front of her ears and framing her face expertly. The rest of her thick hair had been neatly pinned up and Esme had been very pleased with the result.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Colchester and Mrs. Colchester.” The Marquis was the first to his feet, bowing neatly at his guests. “And Miss Colchester.” He bowed a little deeper to Esme and smiled at her.

  But there was something in his smile which seemed a little different somehow. He did not strike Esme as being quite as much at ease as he had been at Lord and Lady Hollerton’s garden party. But of course, he was the one doing the entertaining now, and Esme knew herself that it could sometimes be a little fraught.

  “Good afternoon, Lord Longton.” Esme smiled at him sweetly and inclined her head.

  “Well, do come in, my dears,” Lady Longton said, appearing at her son’s side and fussing in the warm and wonderful way of a mother hen.

  Esme had to admit to herself secretly that she was glad of Lady Longton and her kindly ways in that moment. Something about that lady certainly put her at her ease and she gave silent thanks for her.

  No sooner were they all seated than the household servants began to make their way in with the most sumptuous afternoon tea Esme had ever set eyes on. There was bread-and-butter, cakes of all shapes and colors with cream on the top, fruits and sweets made out of sugar, all manner of wonderful things.

  It looked so good, in fact, that Esme wished she did not feel quite so nervous for she would have liked to not only eat it but enjoy it too. Of course, a young lady ought never to overdo things, but perhaps she would have enjoyed a little cake.

  “I must say, I did enjoy Lord and Lady Hollerton’s garden party,” Lady Longton said, beginning a little conversation amongst them all as soon as the afternoon tea had been served.

  “Yes, it was a very pleasant afternoon. The weather was perfect.” As her mother spoke, Esme wished she had a little of her confidence.

  “And you enjoyed it greatly did you not, Daniel?” Lady Longton looked to her son.

  Esme, who had sat shyly fixated upon the ornate teapot, allowed her eyes to wander to where Daniel Winsford sat. He was in an armchair not quite opposite where Esme sat on a large and comfortable couch with her mother.

  He looked as handsome as he had done the first time she had set eyes on him. His dark hair was wonderfully thick and unruly and his blue eyes so blue that she wished she had the confidence to look into them for a moment. He was wearing black breeches and knee boots with a waistcoat and tailcoat in a shade of green not dissimilar to the gown she was wearing. Esme smiled to herself, imagining that her sister Jane would think their unwitting choice of such similar colors meant something romantic.

  “Immensely,” the Marquis answered his mother with a single word.

  Esme studied him a little more closely, taken aback at the shortness of his answer and what little of his tone she had gleaned from that single word. But it was his look more than anything else; the way he had momentarily surveyed his mother with annoyance.

  Esme wondered if the two of them had argued, or at least had some cross words, before she and her parents had arrived.

  “I am bound to say that Lord Hollerton’s gardener certainly knows his business,” Esme’s father added to the conversation with ease and grace and she knew in her heart that he sought to spare Lady Longton any little embarrassment her son’s seeming disinterest might have caused her. “Tell me, Lady Longton, did you manage to visit the little camellia garden? It really was quite something.”

  “I did, Mr. Colchester,” Lady Longton said with enthusiasm and, Esme thought, a little relief. “Such shades of pink as I have never seen. What a wonderful display. I have rarely been as impressed by camellias as I was at Hollerton Hall.”

  “The grounds here at Longton Hall are very fine,” Esme’s mother added.

  “Thank you kindly, Mrs. Colchester. Perhaps when we have finished our tea you might care to see the gardens at the back of the hall. The head gardener here is a very attentive man. He has been here at Longton since he was a boy.”

  “Oh yes, I should like that very much,” Mrs. Colchester said and turned a little in her seat to look at her daughter, quietly indicating that she ought to speak.

  “Yes, it is such a fine day to be outside,” Esme added, surprised that she recognized her voice as rather normal.

  Her insides felt absolutely rigid and she could hardly believe that it did not show in her tone of voice. But perhaps, given the opportunity to get to know the Marquis better, she might not feel quite so nervous and out of place.

  The afternoon tea went on in much the same vein, with the parents in the party very much holding up the conversation on their own shoulders. The Marquis sat in his armchair so rigidly and with such a look of unapproachability that it rendered Esme mute also.

  Once or twice, Esme was certain that she had seen little flashes of exasperation on the lined and pleasant face of Lady Longton. And in truth, she could hardly blame her, for it seemed for all the world as if the Marquis was not at all pleased to be in their company.

  If only he could talk and behave as he had done at the garden party, so lightly and warmly. If only he would look at her now as Jane claimed he had, his very manner full of interest for everything that she had to say.

  And things were a little better when they made their way outside, although she was pleased to be released from the all too large drawing room. To be able to walk outside in the sunshine and have displays and lawns pointed out to her that she might easily and readily comment upon seemed to take the pressure off her somehow and Esme found her tongue once more.

  “And these are my camellias, of course. Very beautiful, but I am bound to say not nearly as beautiful as the display of camellias that we saw at the garden party, Mr. Colchester.” Lady Longton was ahead of the little group with Esme’s mother and father, chattering happily as she went.

  “Your grounds really are very beautiful, Lord Longton,” Esme said, speaking quietly to the Marquis as if to be overheard would make her a little embarrassed.

  The truth was, it had taken all her courage to utter those few words, all the while wondering if his response would be anywhere near favorable. If it were not, she had determined to say nothing else to him for the rest of the day.

  “Thank you, Miss Colchester,” he said, turning to look at her briefly as they walked.

  He was a tall man with a pleasing shape and he walked along in easy strides with his hands gently clasped behind his back. “I must admit, I have very little to do with it all. Gardening and what have you has seldom interested me, and I am of a mind that the gardener is paid to be left to it.” He smiled briefly, and Esme felt her heart leap; such small crumbs from him providing so much pleasure. “Although I do believe that my mother interferes
regularly.”

  “As does mine with our gardener, Lord Longton. I think it is on every mother’s list of things to do.”

  “Quite so,” he said and laughed good-naturedly if not heartily.

  At that point, Lady Longton took them all off in a different direction altogether, walking them down to the lake as she gave her commentary on every part of the grounds and gardens. It naturally put an end to the tentative conversation between the two young people and Esme felt a little relieved.

  She wanted those last few minutes to be what she remembered of the day, the pleasant little conversation she had shared with the Marquis. In his current mood, she wondered if to continue the conversation would be to risk losing those few moments of magic, and that was something that she did not want to do.

  And so, when they climbed up into the carriage at the end of the afternoon, Esme had already convinced herself that she had enjoyed the whole thing. There had been enough conversation between them to run over and over in her mind when she was back home and in the quiet of her own chamber.

  She would remember his handsome face and his smile as they had talked of their mothers and she would focus upon it. And as for his curious mood for the rest of the afternoon, well, everybody had their bad days, did they not?

  Chapter 5

  Esme had chosen to wear a rich cream gown with a heavy lace overlay for the summer ball at the home of Lord Berkeley. Its only adornment was a pale green band beneath the bust and she wore it with long white gloves.

  Her hair was in ringlets again, just as it had been when she went to afternoon tea at Longton Hall. But this time she had longer curls hanging down and grazing her shoulders instead of just shorter ones framing her face.