“He had no grounds to lead me away at all. Really, to behave in such a way towards a woman you have not even been introduced to.” Esme knew she sounded disgruntled.
“I think it is rather exciting that he butted up against your ideas of etiquette just so that he could rescue you. It is rather romantic.” Jane let out a girlish laugh.
“Oh, only you could see romance in such a rude man.” Esme laughed, not entirely pleased to be talking about the man, but pleased not to be talking about her humiliation with the Marquis any longer.
“I suppose his actions might have been considered rude if you were having an entirely agreeable time with the Marquis and his party. But this man obviously saw your discomfort and sought to relieve it. Even if he was mistaken, surely his intentions were very fine.” Jane was not ready to let go of the idea that this man, this perfect stranger, was somehow exciting.
“Yes, he was mistaken,” Esme said, but quietly wondered if there was something to Jane’s words.
“But it must have taken a good deal of courage for him to intervene or interfere as you call it,” Verity added. “I do think you must give him that much credit at least, Esme. Unless you think that he only inserted himself into things to specifically upset you. Given that you do not know him, I can hardly think that that is the case.”
“Although he is a stranger, I suppose it is true to say that he is not a perfect stranger,” Esme said tentatively, knowing that Jane was about to seize upon her words hungrily. “For I have seen him before at Lord and Lady Hollerton’s garden party. He stared at me.”
“He stared at you?” Jane said, and even in the gloom of the pale candlelight, Esme could see her eyes widening with excitement.
“I did not notice at first, Mama did,” Esme said, remembering how she had stared back at the man. “But then I did see him staring at me for myself. I thought no more about him until this evening.”
“So, he already had an interest in you, my dear?” Jane said.
“I am afraid I do not find being stared at so very romantic, Jane.”
“And yet you seem to find the idea of being mocked for your attire much more so,” Verity said solemnly. “Forgive me, sister, I am not coming down on the side of this Mr. Wentworth, or whoever he is. But I am still angered by the idea that the Marquis would lead you into a group of people who were so very rude.”
“I do not think he can be blamed for what his company did. After all, he cannot have imagined that Eliza and Henrietta Burton would be so rude.”
“Or perhaps you are just making excuses for him,” Verity said, and Esme found herself resenting her youngest sister’s propensity for common sense and speaking her mind.
“Really, it is nothing for the two of you to fall out about.” Jane the middle sister, was always the voice of reason. “And to talk about this Mr. Wentworth once again, if you will allow me, I am bound to say that he was very handsome.”
“Oh, Jane!” Esme started to laugh. “Then perhaps I should introduce the two of you.”
“Oh no, I would not be happy to be introduced to a man, however handsome, when he is much more enamored of one of my sisters than I.” Jane laughed mischievously. “But you must admit there is something about him.” She peered intently at Esme.
“But you were nowhere near. If you had heard how Mr. Wentworth and I argued, you would not now think the whole thing as romantic as all that.” Esme laughed.
“Well, I just think you should not dismiss him out of hand. I have high hopes for this Mr. Wentworth. I like the way he skirts around etiquette. And there is something a little mysterious about a man who behaves as he has done. I do not think you can rule him out.”
“Rule him out?” Esme said incredulously. “Do you mean as a suitor?”
“Yes, of course,” Jane said and clutched her chest dramatically causing Verity to laugh.
“But I know nothing about him. He could be anybody, Jane.”
“He could indeed be anybody. And that is what I think makes him all the more exciting.”
“Well, I am not excited by it.”
“No, but that is only because you do not know where to place him on your list of suitable young men. You cannot put him into any category.”
“Exactly that, Jane,” Esme said, and wondered how it was that the two of them could see the same thing so very differently.
“Well, I for one hope to see Mr. Wentworth again. If nothing else, it would not hurt the Marquis of Longton to realize that you are greatly in demand.”
“Oh, Jane, what a lovely thing to say.” Esme leaned forward to put her arms around both of her sisters. “And how glad I am to have the two of you.”
And for all her sisters’ outspokenness, Esme really was grateful to have them both there.
Chapter 7
Lady Ariadne Stevenson, a baroness and a widow of the very merry variety, was always an exceptional hostess. She favored afternoon events and early evening events, this time hosting an evening buffet.
Her drawing room was immense and the seating extensive and comfortable. And Lady Ariadne always invited just the right number of guests, not so many that her drawing room was full, and not so few that the company was not good and varied.
Esme was in attendance with her mother and Jane, Verity having begged to stay home for the evening so that she might play a raucous few hands of cards with their brother, Amos. She claimed that she would much prefer it to the trouble of having to get herself ready to spend the evening with people she was not at all in the mood to converse with.
As always, their mother and father simply let her be. They really were the most tolerant of parents, although Esme wondered if that would necessarily be to Verity’s advantage in the end. She was such a determinedly unusual character that Esme thought it perhaps not ought to be encouraged.
“Look, Lady Longton is here,” Mrs. Colchester said, clearly pleased to see that fine woman in amongst the other guests. “Although you must remember, my dear, that even if I like Lady Longton very well, you need not accept any invitations that do not suit you.”
Jane cast Esme a look as they both silently acknowledged the fact that none of them had spoken to their parents of the events of Lord Berkeley’s summer ball. If they had, Mrs. Colchester would have been furious and might even have disallowed Esme the Marquis’ company in future.
Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Colchester were so impressed by titles that they would allow anyone in possession of one to be so rude to one of their much-beloved children. And knowing this, Esme was grateful that neither Jane nor Verity had gone to their parents with tales from the night.
“And look, her son is with her,” Jane said in a flat tone as she narrowed her gaze.
Lady Longton had quickly spotted Mrs. Colchester and was hurrying over with a broad smile on her face.
“My dear Mrs. Colchester, how wonderful to see you again. I had no idea you would be here this evening. Really, what a treat!” Lady Longton was as effusive as ever and Esme thought it would be impossible for a person not to like that woman.
“Good evening, Lady Longton. How well you look,” Esme’s mother said genuinely. “Really, that shade of blue suits you perfectly.”
Esme had always adored her mother and had always been in awe of the way she managed to give compliments so genuinely. And she only gave those compliments where they were due, not securing herself greater advantage by sycophancy. Nobody listening to Mrs. Elizabeth Colchester could think her anything but sincere.
As the two women continued to talk, Esme became aware that the Marquis was also making his way over. She felt her mouth go dry as she wondered how he was going to greet her this time.
“Miss Colchester, how nice to see you,” he said, and Esme thought he seemed a little sheepish. “I wonder if I might have a few moments conversation with you?” he said, his eyes flicking momentarily to Jane who was standing sentinel and listening to every word.
“Yes, of course,” Esme said, and moved a little away from her sister
so that she and the Marquis might speak in private.
“I had really wanted to ask you to forgive me for the other evening, Miss Colchester. I was feeling greatly out of sorts, having been unwell for much of the day. I daresay that I was in very poor humor because I had really wanted to stay at Longton Hall that night. But that is no excuse, I should have intervened when Michael’s sisters behaved so roughly.”
“Yes, they were rather rough.” Esme was surprised by her own resistance to immediately accept his apology.
After all, this very apology was the thing she had dreamt of for the last few days, the thing she had hoped for more than anything. And yet there was something deep inside her that was thrashing around a little, a mutinous little part of her that wanted to spoil her plans to find and marry just the right sort of man.
“They can be a little envious of other young ladies, Miss Colchester, and had I been in better health I would have been quick to denounce their words.”
“Well, I hope you are feeling a little better now, Lord Longton?” Esme said, willing herself to accept his apology and wondering why it was she could not do so directly.
“Indeed, I am feeling a good deal better.” He smiled at her and Esme was lost again in just how handsome he was, not to mention the fact that his rueful expression made him look a little boyish. “And I hope that you will let me make amends by inviting you and your family to dinner at Longton Hall next week.”
“Oh, how very kind, Lord Longton,” Esme said, feeling herself flush with pleasure. “I know that we have no engagements so I can speak for my family, I am sure, in saying that we would be glad to accept any invitation you might make.”
“I am so pleased, Miss Colchester. And I know that my cousin, Lady Rachel, will be very pleased also. She has expressed a desire to get to know you a little better and was sorry that she was not able to spend more time with you at Lord Berkeley’s ball.”
“I liked her very well indeed, My Lord,” Esme said truthfully of the woman who had sought to relieve her distress. “And I would be very pleased to see her again.”
“Then it is settled, Miss Colchester,” the Marquis said with a broad and handsome smile. “I shall send the invitation to your parents tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” Esme felt her spirits soar.
Despite a few bumps in the road, Esme was certain that she was on the right path. And surely, any young woman looking to make a most sensible marriage must have the fortitude to survive any rough seas she might encounter on the way.
She was sure that she was over the worst of it now and that everything would be plain sailing from here onward.
But when she returned to her sister, Jane, she was a little upended to discover that the hopeless romantic seemed somewhat more cautious in receipt of the news.
“I suppose it is good that he has apologized,” Jane said unconvincingly.
“He has not only apologized, sister, but he has invited our entire family to have dinner at Longton Hall. I think that is recompense enough, do you not?”
“For rudeness that should never have occurred in the first place?” Jane said levelly.
“Goodness, you are becoming more like Verity every day,” Esme said waspishly for she could not understand why her sister was not happy for her.
“Forgive me, I do not mean to dampen your spirits,” Jane said gently. “It really was very fine of the Marquis to apologize. Very gentlemanly.”
“But?” Esme said, holding her sister’s gaze firmly.
“But I cannot help but wonder about Mr. Wentworth.” Her face eased into a romantic smile.
“I think you can safely forget all about Mr. Wentworth, Jane. I know I shall.”
Chapter 8
“Are you all right, my dear? Shall I come with you?” Jane said with a look of concern.
“Oh no, I am perfectly all right, I would just like a little air. No, you and Verity carry on, I will be right outside the door, you need not worry,” Esme said, wondering if her increasing nervousness at the idea of dinner at Longton Hall that evening was the root cause of her unsteady feeling.
She did not feel unwell, exactly, but rather like she needed a little space. The haberdashery where her sisters were pawing over cards of lace was a small shop which was so well-stocked that it appeared smaller still. But it was a little dark too, not having windows large enough to capture the glorious sunshine of the day.
“Would you not like a little lace for the gown you will be wearing to Longton Hall?” Jane went on, her own excitement at the prospect of such a fine evening growing day by day.
“No, the gown I have decided upon needs nothing further,” Esme said confidently, although her mind immediately flew to her ivory gown with the lace overlay and she wondered if she had any idea about fashion at all. “But you take all the time you need, Jane. Really, I will be perfectly all right outside. It is just a little dark and a little stuffy in here for my liking.”
“Very well, but just tap on the door or the little window if you need us,” Jane said and kissed her sister’s cheek before releasing her.
The moment she was outside, Esme felt a little better. It was a warm day, but the air was fresh and clean, and she took in great breaths to steady herself.
“Good morning, Miss Colchester,” came a familiar voice.
Esme opened her eyes and was dismayed to see none other than Mr. Wentworth standing there before her.
“It is afternoon, Mr. Wentworth,” Esme said in an irritated tone.
“So it is.” He bowed and smiled brightly. “But perhaps I knew that already, my dear. Perhaps, as always, I sought only to annoy you.” He laughed.
“Now why on earth would you seek to do that?”
“I would not,” he said and smiled at her with curious warmth. “But I am certain that you would see it that way. I am very sure that I could do nothing that would please you, so perhaps I ought not to try.”
“This is a most curious conversation, Mr. Wentworth,” Esme said primly. “Perhaps I should remind you that we are barely acquainted. We were certainly not correctly introduced, Mr. Wentworth, and I think you perhaps ought to remember that. It is not quite the done thing for a gentleman to approach a young woman in such a fashion in the street when he is not entirely an acquaintance.”
“So, because the introduction was not formally made by a third-party and with grand gestures and bowing and polite discourse, we essentially do not know one another at all?” He raised an eyebrow and laughed a little loudly for her liking. “What a curious society we are, my dear, when we are perfect strangers simply because the correct form of words was not adhered to on first meeting. What a shame it is that we will never know one another, however much time we might spend in one another’s company. A great shame indeed.”
“Mr. Wentworth, I am sure you think yourself very clever, but I do not.”
“Goodness me, you are a very harsh sort of woman.” He continued to laugh, and she wondered that he was not at all offended by her words. “I should not like to find out how it is you treat your enemies. Unless I am an enemy, of course.”
“That is ridiculous. Of course, you are not my enemy, Mr. Wentworth. I do not know you well enough to be able to declare you as such.”
“Perhaps now you think yourself a little clever, Miss Colchester?” His fair hair was thick and a little ruffled, as if he had ridden into town on horseback rather than in a carriage.
Esme surveyed him coolly, not at all embarrassed to look at him as she might have been any other man. But she was annoyed, and so embarrassment would very much have to take second place.
Esme could see that he was certainly a man of some means for his clothing was very finely made. It was simple, insofar as it was not ostentatious, but everything had been tailored perfectly and she found herself wondering exactly who Mr. George Wentworth was. And in the cold light of day, Esme had to admit that she found his height and broad shoulders rather more imposing than they had been when he had interfered in her busines
s at Lord Berkeley’s ball.
“Perhaps we are enemies, Mr. Wentworth,” Esme said in a snap.
“Oh no, please do not take offense. I am teasing you, Miss Colchester.” He bowed his apology.
“I do not think we are well enough acquainted for you to tease me, Mr. Wentworth.”
“Not well enough acquainted? Not even when I have rescued you from an uncomfortable situation?”
“Rescued me?” Esme said in a voice that was rising with its incredulity. But perhaps she could ignore etiquette for the moment if this dreadful man intended to do the very same. “You rescued me from nothing. I did not need rescuing from anything at all.”
“Except, perhaps, a little humiliation?” He looked less amused and more serious than he had done before. “But perhaps you think a good match is worth anything. He is a Marquis after all, is he not? The very fine Lord Longton.”
Although his words felt a little mocking, his tone was anything but.
“If that is what you want in this life, Miss Colchester, then I wish you every success.”
“I would thank you if I thought you meant it,” she said and graciously.
“Perhaps it would be kinder of me to wish you every happiness instead of every success,” he said and screwed his pale blue eyes up in thought. “For I rather think that your version of success will lead you to anything other than true happiness. But that is your mistake to make, not mine. I shall give up my interference, Miss Colchester.” And with that he bowed deeply and turned to leave her.
With her mouth a little open, Esme watched him leave. There was something about his straight-backed bearing that was more confident than arrogant. But that would be as much compliment as she would ever give him, for he had angered her greatly.
And as she listened, Esme was certain that she could hear him chuckling to himself as he walked away, angering her further still.
Now why on earth would dear Jane see such a man as a romantic figure? No, the Marquis of Longton, the man who had invited Esme and her family to dinner, was a much better prospect.
Love or Title: The Colchester Sisters Page 4