“As soon as I am finished greeting everybody, I will come and find you, my dear,” he said, holding onto the hand she had held out to him just a little longer than she was comfortable with. “I have all sorts of people here tonight I would like to introduce you to.”
“How very nice, Lord Longton,” she said and inclined her head before following along behind her mother, father, and sisters.
Once again, her brother had taken the opportunity to make himself scarce and she began to think that dear Amos also knew a little something of the Marquis’ character that he had seen fit to let her discover for herself.
“The Marquis seems to be in a very good mood this evening,” Mrs. Colchester said when they were at a decent distance.
“I have only ever known him to be in a good mood,” Esme’s father said with a chuckle. “Perhaps it is my presence which suits him, my dear.”
“Please, you must not,” Esme said, wishing that she could enjoy her parents’ gentle humor as normal.
But the truth was that she felt uncomfortable again, only this time it was not entirely because she felt out of place. She was not waiting for the Marquis’ mood to swing in another direction, for she was certain that it would not that evening. What Esme was coming to realize was that she was not entirely sure she cared very much one way or the other.
True to his word, the Marquis appeared before half an hour was over.
“You must forgive me, it does take an awfully long time to greet people,” he said as much to Esme’s father as to Esme. “Mr. Colchester, I wonder if I might steal Esme away from you for a few moments to introduce her to some of my friends?”
“Of course,” Edward Colchester said good-naturedly, clearly not a party to everything that her mother knew.
Esme was sure that if her father had known some of the worst of the Marquis’ behavior, he would have dug his heels in about accepting any further invitations.
“Thank you,” he said and bowed at Edward before holding out his arm for Esme to take.
Esme took his arm with a smile and allowed him to guide her through the ballroom, becoming almost dizzy with the number of introductions.
She seemed to be on his arm for the entire evening, being walked this way and that and introduced to more people than she could possibly ever remember in the future. And each time, he introduced her with pride.
“Please allow me to introduce you to Miss Esme Colchester, she is a dear friend of mine,” he said more than once, keeping her arm in his almost perpetually.
He seemed bright and amusing all night, a perfect gentleman in every respect. He was attentive the entire time, always making sure that she did not want for something to drink or a little something to eat.
She was glad, in the end, when he had found it necessary to make his way out of the ballroom and answer some little problem that his footmen had encountered. He left her in the care of his cousin, Lady Rachel Marlow, and Esme was greatly relieved.
“You look exhausted, Miss Colchester,” Lady Rachel said gently and took her hand. “Would you care to sit down for a few minutes?”
“Oh yes, please,” Esme said, feeling her nerves to be shredded and her feet to be aching. “I have lost count of the number of people I have been introduced to this evening.”
“Yes, I did see that Daniel was making you do the rounds, as it were.” Lady Rachel laughed. “He seems to be in a very good mood this evening,” she continued tentatively.
“Yes, he does,” Esme said and realized that her tone entirely lacked enthusiasm. “Forgive my intrusion, Lady Rachel, but I believe we have an acquaintance in common.” She changed the subject rather awkwardly.
“Oh yes?” Lady Rachel said, but Esme had an instinct that the fine woman already knew who she was talking about.
“Mr. George Wentworth,” Esme plowed on regardless.
“Yes, George Wentworth is a friend of mine. Or at least he was a friend of my husband,” she said, and her voice took on a very quiet, wistful quality.
“I am terribly sorry, Lady Rachel,” Esme said, remembering what Mr. Wentworth had said about Lady Rachel’s continued deep love for her husband.
She would be very careful not to lead her into a discussion about him and have her upset so publicly.
“You are very kind, Miss Colchester,” Lady Rachel said and nodded. “Yes, George Wentworth is a very nice man.”
“I seem to bump into him everywhere, Lady Rachel.”
“He is very fond of Hertfordshire of late, I believe. And he has a good many friends here, considering his own home is in Buckinghamshire.”
Esme realized that there was nothing she could really ask about George Wentworth without it being plain that she was truly asking what his station in life was. She knew enough of his character to know that she liked him, after all. Any other questions would only be asked in order to satisfy her own need to know his status.
And where had that got her so far? Her preoccupation with respectability, title, wealth, what had it brought her of worth? Nothing more than a handsome but entitled young man who was not in control of his own moods. Was that really a prize befitting the years of careful adherence to rules which had been decided upon long ago by people she had never met?
And so instead, she chose not to ask. She would simply let George Wentworth be himself. And if he ever chose to tell her more, Esme would be ready to hear him.
“I am bound to say, Lady Rachel, that Mr. Wentworth is quite the worst bridge player I have ever partnered with in my life,” Esme said and was pleased when Lady Rachel laughed heartily.
“Oh dear, I can hardly believe he has displayed his appalling bridge skills publicly.” Lady Rachel was highly amused. “And yes, he is a very poor player indeed. He has never taken the trouble to get to grips with the game, you see.” Lady Rachel was still laughing. “He is far too busy making a study of everyone around him to concentrate on his cards.”
“Yes, I can very well imagine that,” Esme said and found her spirits lifting.
Perhaps it was Rachel’s company, or perhaps it was the fact that she was talking about George Wentworth again. Perhaps it was even a mixture of the two. But this was certainly the first time she had enjoyed herself all evening and Esme realized that in itself was very telling.
“Forgive my intrusion into your business once again, Miss Colchester, but I would beg you to hear me out,” Lady Rachel said, becoming suddenly serious and quiet again.
“Of course,” Esme said and nodded enthusiastically. “You may say whatever you wish.”
“Lady Longton is a very fine woman and I love her dearly. But she is so tender-hearted that all she wants in the world is to see her only son settled happily with a fine young woman who might go some way to easing his capriciousness and his little moods.”
“She is very kind and clearly a very loving mother,” Esme said gently.
“But as much as I love her, I would not see you sacrificed, not even to see that dear woman happy.”
“I understand,” Esme said, not wanting to put Lady Rachel through the embarrassment of having to explain herself fully.
“Daniel is a good man in his own way, but tonight he is seeking to please his mother. He loves her dearly, you see, and he remembers it more when he is not in the company of Michael Burton and his dreadful sisters. But just because he is behaving nicely this evening, please do not be taken in by it.”
Lady Rachel looked down and even in the pale light of the ballroom, Esme could see her blushing.
“You must think me the worst kind of interfering woman. But really, I do like you so much and it would pain me to see you in a life that would not make you happy.”
“I used to think that marriages had to be made in a certain fashion, Lady Rachel. And in all of it, if I am completely honest, such things as love and happiness did not really feature. I suppose I had the same list of quiet wants and demands that any other ambitious young woman might have. Nothing out of the common way, perhaps a little ambitious f
or my station, in truth.”
“It is all very understandable,” Lady Rachel said graciously.
“The thing is, I am not as sure as I used to be that I have the thing right. It is a funny thing, but I have two sisters, as you know. Jane is a hopeless romantic and Verity is the most unromantic common-sense filled young woman you might ever wish to meet. I had always thought myself to be somewhere between the two, but in actual fact I realize I have been quite different. I have been somewhat gullible, I suppose,” Esme said, feeling a little shaken inside to hear the truth of herself spoken aloud from her own lips. “I believed it all, you see. The very moment I was out in society, I took every single part of it on board and held it close. Everybody talked of finding just the right sort of young man to marry. I very quickly fell in line with it all and learned everything I could about how to behave and what to say. How to appeal to a man of consequence, I daresay.”
“You do not need to try to appeal to anybody, my dear. You are a very fine young woman in your own right.”
“It is very kind of you to say so, Lady Rachel. I just wish that I had allowed myself to enjoy the privilege of coming from a family where no awkward expectations have been placed upon me. My parents truly want nothing more than for me to be happy, and I know from my experience in society that it is a rarity to be treasured. But I have not treasured it. I have simply continued along the path as if I am under the greatest pressure to succeed. And now I believe it has led me here, right to Longton Hall. And in coming here, I have raised the hopes of a very dear lady and it pains me to think of it.”
“You must not think of it too much. After all, Lady Longton is perfectly well aware of her son’s flaws and I think, in the end, she would have been greatly surprised to find herself with a daughter-in-law like you.”
“I do wish this evening could be over. Seeing the Marquis as he is now, so pleasant and excited, I feel the most tremendous sense of guilt. The truth is, I have never particularly regarded him highly. Not Daniel Winsford, the man. I never really bothered to get to know him at all.”
“And he has never bothered to get to know you either, otherwise he would not behave as he does.”
“When it is all finished, Lady Rachel, I do hope that you and I can remain friends,” Esme said and truly meant it. “I have been very touched by your kindness.”
“Have no doubt of it, my dear. We shall remain friends.”
Chapter 16
George Wentworth had hovered on the edge of the Colchester estate for more than an hour. He had crept onto the grounds earlier and slid a note addressed to Esme beneath the front door. He could only hope that it had reached her hands although he was certain, given everything that Rachel had told him about the Colchester family, that her parents were not of the type who unscrupulously read their daughters’ letters.
Still, if they did, it would certainly take some explaining. And as the time passed, he began to worry that he had done something that would see the woman he had come to care about so greatly in trouble.
Until, that was, he saw her and one of her sisters walking arm in arm in the direction of the little woodland where he had remained out of sight. Surely, they could only be making their way in response to his desperate little note requesting that Esme meet him secretly. He had expected, of course, that she might bring one or both sisters. As much as he was sure that she was changing, that spirit of hers rising up to the fore, he still knew her to be a little too cautious to be found alone with him.
Well, he would take what he could get.
“Miss Colchester?” he said, coming upon the sisters the very minute they entered the woodland. “You received my note?”
“I am here, am I not?” Esme said and looked at him with cool amusement. “What is so urgent, Mr. Wentworth, that you linger here on a cool autumn day without a cloak?”
Esme looked very beautiful. She wore a simple fawn colored gown with long sleeves, a matching velvet Spencer jacket, and a bonnet of a little darker color. The autumn shades suited her pale skin and red hair beautifully and her green eyes looked like jewels peering out at him from beneath the brim of her bonnet.
“I suppose I have come to interfere in your life once again, Miss Colchester,” he said, spreading his hands out wide and looking at her earnestly.
In response, Esme looked at her sister, Jane, who nodded imperceptibly before walking ahead a little to give them a few moments alone.
“I suppose I ought not to be surprised, Mr. Wentworth. Interfering in my life seems to be chief among your hobbies of late.”
“Do you mind very much?” he asked. Holding her gaze, he was impressed that she did not look away.
There it was again, that spirit. That little defiance that rested inside her, barely beneath the surface, always ready to break out and show itself.
“Not as much as I used to,” she said and gave him the briefest of smiles. “But I suppose that could all change at any moment, largely depending on what it is you have to say this time.”
“As sharp as ever, Miss Colchester.”
“Well, at least I can be sure that you still like me as long as I am being sharp.”
“Quite so,” he said and realized that he suddenly felt nervous.
This was no longer the casual interference of days gone by. This was something so much larger, a true interference in the course of her life.
“Well?” she said and tilted her head to one side expectantly.
“I have come to advise you not to accept the Marquis of Longton’s proposal of marriage,” he said in a rush of words.
“What proposal of marriage, Sir? As far as I am aware, he has made none.”
“But I think he might.”
“And what on earth makes you think that, Mr. Wentworth?”
“As I said before, I make a study of people.”
“And you have studied the Marquis of Longton so closely that you believe him on the point of proposing?” She looked at him incredulously.
“As much as you would seek to laugh at me, Miss Colchester, I can see the truth of it in those green eyes of yours. You have seen his capriciousness and you know how easily he is excited. You know him to be capable of a sudden proposal, one made without a particular courtship of any kind.”
“Capriciousness?” Esme said and leaned her head back to look up at the sky through the myriad of branches which were now losing their leaves to autumn. “What a funny word to use.”
“I do not think it a particularly funny word, Miss Colchester,” he said and felt a little confused, even wary if he was honest.
“It is funny, but that is just how Lady Rachel Marlow described him just two nights ago. I was a guest at Longton Hall, you see, for the Marquis held a ball there. I was fortunate enough to have a few minutes with dear Lady Rachel and she described her cousin in just such terms as you have described him.”
“You suspect me of something?”
“It is not a suspicion, it is certain knowledge. You, Lady Rachel, and dear Mrs. Dalton, have a connection that I do not quite understand. And as part of that connection, I am perfectly well aware that you have all discussed me at length.”
“But you must understand that both Lady Rachel and Mrs. Dalton care for you greatly. It is not idle gossip,” he said in defense of his two finest friends.
“And you need not defend them against me, Sir, for I know well that they are very fine women. But they have information that I do not; an understanding of you that I have not been allowed.”
“What do you mean?”
“They, at least, know who you are.”
“Ah, here we are again. You seek once again to identify my status. Well, I am not a Marquis,” he said with a little flash of annoyance that he would rather not have given away.
“And you misunderstand me if you think that I am only interested in that much information about you. That is far from what I meant, Sir,” Esme said, her bright eyes flashing with annoyance. “If it needs explanation, then you may have one,
” she went on, holding a hand out in front of her to steady his tongue when he was about to interrupt with his apology. “My meaning is that they know you. They know your past, your life, the trials and tribulations, the joys, the sorrows, everything. I am not so fortunate as to have such prized information. As much as you have sought to interfere in my life, however openly and honestly you have done so, you have managed to do it without giving me a single shred of who you are.”
“But I…”
“Yes, you have said, I know enough about you already. You are undoubtedly a kind man and a good man, if only evidenced by your association with two of the finest ladies I have ever met. You are also amusing, annoying, clever, witty, intelligent, and one of the most irritating men I have ever met,” she went on mercilessly. “So please understand that I do have the capacity to glean that much about a fellow human being.”
She was becoming furious.
“And I personally do not care whether you are the king of England or a farmer’s son. I like you well enough, Mr. Wentworth, I am simply becoming hurt that you do not trust me with the details of your life and furious that you would seek to interfere in mine when you clearly do not believe in me.” And with that, she turned on her heel and began to march sharply away.
“Please, Miss Colchester…” he called out after her.
“Jane!” She turned, only to call out when it was clear that she had forgotten she had left her sister adrift in the woods.
Jane hurried along, crossing George’s path and shrugging at him as she went. But her eyes were bright, and her smile was wide. No doubt Jane Colchester had heard every word and had seen what he had felt; that there really was something special between George and Esme.
He only hoped that she would calm down for long enough to see it.
But for now, the decision very much lay in Esme Colchester’s lap. Rachel was certain that the Marquis would be proposing any day and all George could do was stand back now, his final piece of interference done, and hope that Esme Colchester would make the right decision.
Love or Title: The Colchester Sisters Page 8