by Amelia Hart
He must. His marked interest in coming here like this - by appointment to be certain they were at home for his call - was unmistakable. One only needed to look at Mama - waving her fan too rapidly, halting herself, closing it to lay it in her lap, only to pick it up a moment later and start once more waving it madly - to know she was in a fever of excitement and trying vainly to conceal it.
Papa too sat very straight, very still, and wore his best morning waistcoat, splendidly embroidered but in the most subtle shading.
'Good taste is a matter of expense, not ostentation,' he had explained to her once when she was disappointed at the drab colors he chose. 'Old money can afford to play the foolish dandy and prance about like a peacock if it chooses. New money must be staid and sober and genteel, or it will be shut out altogether. We may have all the funds in the world, but if we wish to rise in stature, we must play the game carefully. You and your sisters to marry well, your brothers into noble professions, and once your dowries are all settled I shall look about me for a great estate not far from London. Landed gentry is what our family shall become, and with enough wealth soon it shall be forgotten how it smells of the shop.'
He must be correct, for here was an earl condescending to call on them, which could only be for her sake. Which could only mean marriage.
An earl. Marriage. If she thought of it too hard it made her head spin.
All too easy to be caught in the thrill of it. Could she love him, though? Such a romantic figure, sorrow in his heart but noble forbearance on his brow, handsome and courteous.
He had called her pretty.
Yes, she thought she could love him, could be a comfort and support to him, a companion and friend. If she could not quite imagine sitting with her embroidery by the fire while he read to her from the newspaper - as Papa and Mama liked to do - still there would be things earls enjoyed doing with their countesses that he could teach her. Perhaps he would prefer balls and routs and levees. She might even have to host them, and then she could show off Katherine and Jane, and Alice too in time, and they would find good husbands and everyone would be so happy.
Papa would be so proud to see her made a countess. He would squeeze her hand and look into her eyes with that special, loving glow that said he was enormously pleased with her, as he sometimes did when she had painted a particularly good watercolor fit for hanging on the wall, or sang for guests who applauded and congratulated the Crosses on having such an accomplished daughter.
She would be presented at court in a gorgeous gown, and perhaps other countesses would invite her to come to tea - but no, that was a frightening thought. What would she have to talk of to countesses? Lord Carhampton would have to teach her that, too.
His love for her would make him very patient; the best of teachers.
"Perhaps I might speak to you alone for a time, Mr Cross?" said Lord Carhampton, and Mama sucked in a breath that was almost a gasp, and stood, a flick of her hand calling Elizabeth to her feet also. They all bowed, curtsied, bid adieu, and Mama led Elizabeth from the room with a hand holding hers, gripping it so tightly it almost hurt.
Mama shut the double doors of the drawing room, forgetting the footman who stood there to do it, and bustled her away into the library across the hall. She slammed those doors behind them.
"Oh, my dear," she exclaimed, and her hands went to her cheeks as she strode away, spun and came back, only to pivot and stride away again. "My dear. Oh!" She came to a halt in the center of the carpet, and shook her hands back and forth in front of her chest.
"Mama, what is it?"
"He is asking permission of your father," Mama whispered over tears. "A countess. Oh, that I should live to see the day. My own sweet girl a countess." She came back, took one of Elizabeth's hands in hers, put her other hand on her daughter's cheek. "My dear, my very dear girl. He must have fallen head over heels in love with you the instant he saw you. And no wonder. I always said you were the prettiest of creatures. You have captivated him. Clever, clever girl."
Elizabeth's eyes went very round. "He is? Really? Are you sure?"
"Nothing else could make him ask for privacy in that way. He will ask permission to address you, and they will speak of your dowry, and how much Lord Carhampton will settle on you, and all the terms of your marriage, and then-" Mama's voice broke, and she fished a lacy handkerchief from her sleeve and pressed it to her nostrils, "then he will propose."
"Good heavens," said Elizabeth, astounded anew. Not just supposition, but reality. He loved her. He wanted her as his countess. "What do I say?"
"It depends on how he asks it, of course. You must answer his specific words. Usually a man will say 'will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?' or perhaps 'you would make me the happiest of men if you would become my wife.' Then you may say either 'It is I who would be honored,' or 'You make me a very great compliment. I accept.' And you will look at him meltingly, so he feels you hold his heart with tenderness and true regard."
"It is so swift. Don't you think it's too swift?"
"A decisive man knows his own mind immediately. That is a great quality in a gentleman. He loved you in the instant, and he has seen nothing of you or I or your father to which he could object, nor heard anything ill of us. We are not of the first families, it is true, but we are respectable and your father's fortune counts for something also, I expect."
"But he is not marrying me for money?"
"Of course not. No one could look at you and think it."
"How much is my dowry to be?"
"Such a question! It is not a matter for you to concern yourself over."
"All the same, I would like to know."
"I shall tell you, but you are not to discuss it with your sisters. There is nothing more vulgar than a girl who speaks of the size of her dowry. I expect you have too much sense to do it, but I don't wish to tempt your sisters to an indiscretion. Now promise me, for I know what you're like with secrets."
"I promise."
"It is one hundred and twenty thousand pounds."
Elizabeth blinked. "That is a vast sum," she said cautiously. "Are you certain he is not tempted by it?"
"Not solely that, my dear. There are many other heiresses on display this year, but I think none surpasses your charms. I have not said it aloud to you because I did not wish to turn your head, but I think this year you were truly the prize of the Season. That is weighing your wealth and beauty against the higher birth of other girls, of course. It is an arguable point, but I really think that is how it is."
"But what of love, Mama?" asked Elizabeth with some desperation, hearing in this litany nothing but the most worldly concerns.
Mrs Cross sighed in exasperation. "When you understand the world a little better you will see men are drawn in by youth and beauty and wealth, but they stay for kindness and steadiness of character. You have many feminine skills and you are yourself a delight. Perhaps he read much of that in your conversation. Perhaps he knows you better than you think. He is no doubt an excellent judge of character. Have some faith."
"I want to be loved, Mama. For myself." Her voice was firm and clear.
"You shall be, my dear. Never doubt it. I’m certain his haste means you have won his heart already. He must have you, and knows no other will do. So be at peace, for I am sure he loves you."
Papa and Lord Carhampton were not alone for long before the footman was sent to fetch Elizabeth. Her mother gave her hand a final squeeze, her eyes once more brimming with tears, and Elizabeth went back to the drawing room feeling quite outside her own skin. Each moment was increasingly unreal, most of all when Papa left, the door closed quietly behind him, and she was alone with Lord Carhampton.
He took two steps closer to her, then went gracefully to one knee and said without hesitation, "Miss Cross. I very ardently admire you and wish you will do me the honor of becoming my wife."
There was silence for a long moment, until she realized with a twitch of amazement that this was indeed real, that the ne
xt words belonged to her and he waited for her response.
"Why do you choose me?" she asked, only aware the words were on her tongue once she had said them, too late to take back.
For a moment he hesitated, then said, "You seem perfect in every way. My life would be blessed if I had you by my side."
The romance of it took her breath from her chest. It was almost too much to believe, that she had managed to make this cool, rather stern earl fall in love with her. But he had said he thought her perfect, had he not? He must love her indeed, to think such a thing.
There was really no choice.
She put a hand in his and was proud to see it trembled only a little. She could not quite bring herself to say she loved him too, for she knew him so little, but she was perfectly ready to fall in love with him, and admired him very much.
"It is I who am honored," she repeated Mama's words, and strove to form the melting expression required, to assure him all was well. "I trust as we come to know each other better we will care for each other even more."
He placed a kiss there on the back of her glove, so lightly she barely felt it. Then he stood, and looked down at her with a serious face. "It must certainly be so."
Odd that her answer did not make him joyous, but then perhaps that was the way with earls: they must be so restrained and careful it became a habit they must unlearn. She would have to be exuberant enough for both of them. Should she begin now? Should she kiss him?
Before she had decided, he led her to the door, and threw it open before them. Eager faces loitered in the library doorway. Mama, Papa, and even the footman tilted his head ever-so-slightly to catch the best of this drama playing out under his distinguished nose.
"Miss Cross has promised to make me the happiest of men," said Lord Carhampton, and as she heard the ritualized phrase she looked up and caught another of those polite smiles of his, and for a moment thought the expression in his eyes was pain. But the impression was gone in the flash of an instant. She must be wrong. There was nothing there but gentlemanly reserve.
Then Papa was taking him by the hand, to shake it and invite him to his study to draw up the contract, and Mama's arm was about her waist and she was tugged away to the stairs. She looked over her shoulder to see if she could catch a final glance from him, but he did not look at her, only bent his head to her shorter Papa and went with him down the hall, through the study door and out of sight.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Has he kissed you yet?" asked Katherine, pulling her hairbrush through her dark hair.
"No, he hasn't." Elizabeth toyed with the end of her own thick braid, which hung over the shoulder of her nightdress.
"But it’s been weeks! Not even one kiss?"
"I thought he would take the chance at least once, when we were not so closely supervised, but he is very . . . decorous."
"That is disappointing."
"Yes."
"Does he say beautiful things to you?"
"He compliments me on my dress, or my hairstyle. Kind things. But he is always so calm I don't know if he says these things by form or truly means them. I hope he does not lie."
"I suppose he may not have a very passionate nature."
"Perhaps not. And I think he's often preoccupied by the death of his cousin, for he gets a tight look around his mouth and eyes, very sad like this," Elizabeth tried to reproduce the expression, "until I truly feel for him. I invited him to speak to me of his sorrow, if he liked, but he went very stiff and then soon after brought me back to Mama and withdrew. He must be a very private man."
"He hides a sorrowing heart," Katherine sighed, and lay back flat on the bed, to look at the ceiling with a dreamy expression. "So romantic."
"Yes. And so sad. It was a carriage accident, apparently. His cousin, the fifth Earl, was a member of the four-in-hand club, and overturned his phaeton."
Katherine grimaced. "How awful." But a moment later her expression cleared. "I was very impressed with your Lord Carhampton when he came to dinner. What was it like, meeting all his family?"
Elizabeth shuddered at the memory, and pulled the covers a little tighter over the knees that were raised to her chest, and leaned back against the headboard of her bed. "Horrid. There were five of them as well as his mother. All her family - cousins and the like - and they all weighed me with their eyes as if calculating my worth and finding I came up short. There is a maiden aunt who I think liked me, but his mother spoke barely two sentences to me, only watched me like a hawk as I ate my dinner. I imagined she was searching for everything she must retrain me to do properly once I am a countess."
"I don't think that will be much, for if anyone knows how to go on, it is you."
"Under such appraisal I doubted myself sorely. My poor Lord Carhampton, to grow up with such a family. I felt very sad for him. No brothers or sisters to play with, all these condemning elders, and a Mama like a stick of wood. Not that I should say such things, for she has been perfectly polite-"
"She is like a stick of wood, you're quite right. Hard and brittle."
"They must all be disappointed their earl has become enamored of such a common creature as I."
Katherine began to braid her hair, standing in front of the mirror. "I'm certain they were very charmed by you. You are so kind, who could not love you?"
"This is a different world, you know. The ton. Being a good person is not enough. If nothing else they will be comforted by the wealth of my dowry, though perhaps it does not alter their situation. I'm not sure if any of them live off his estates. At least one cousin is a vicar with a benefice gifted by the family."
"Do you think it holds such sway over their thoughts, a dowry? That is not pleasant. How much is it?"
"I won't tell you, for I promised Mama I would not. Only it is certainly enough that marrying me is a wise financial decision. I admit, I would rather I had a much smaller dowry and might be certain he genuinely cares for me."
"Of course he does. His eyes rest on you when you're not sitting together, you know."
Elizabeth's head snapped up in eager enquiry. "Do they?"
"Most certainly. Not for long, of course, for he will not want to stare. But he does look at you."
"That is very comforting. I thought now we can dance together more often, and walk, that we would come to know each other better and he might be more . . . fervent. Yet he has such reserve."
"What do you two talk about?"
"The weather. My painting. His studies. He was to become a barrister but that is not to be now, of course. He tells me the facts but never speaks of his feelings. Only compliments me in that quiet way of his."
"You are both always in the public eye. A man might be very different if he knew he was not being watched."
"That is true."
"Does he hold your hand, now it is allowed?"
"Once. The path was a little rough, and he took my hand when I stumbled, and did not let it go for the next five minutes."
"Oh! How did it feel?"
She relived the memory, so strong and vivid it might have been only an hour ago that it happened. "It was hot, even through his glove, and I could feel the heat of it all through me so I was sure I was red as fire. I could not even think straight, I was so distracted."
"You are falling in love."
"Do you think so? I suppose I must be. He is so handsome. So distinguished."
"You’re very lucky."
"I know. I try to be worthy of his regard."
"Only six more weeks, and you'll be Lady Carhampton."
"It doesn't seem real. I am not used to the idea even now. I imagine once we're married, people will say my name and I'll fall over in surprise it’s me to whom they speak. Me."
"You're already much more popular. Such a stack of invitations come every day for you."
"It is very flattering."
"Where will you live once you are married?"
"He has said we shall go to his country seat and spend some months there." She pluck
ed at her braid, feeling again the faint terror of a life completely foreign from what she knew. "I understand there's much to do, that he wants to oversee in person. He told me about it all - oh, such a list I can’t remember everything - but it seemed it was mostly to repair the house and improve the farms on the estate. I felt very ignorant and stayed quiet, and hoped he did not expect me to know how to help with any of it. I shall have so much to learn."
"His mother will teach you," said Katherine with a sly smile, and held her tongue between her teeth.
"Oh, very comforting, beast," said Elizabeth, lifted a pillow and lobbed it at her.
Katherine leapt to her feet with a faint shriek, and capered around the bed to the other side. "Elizabeth, you are not to associate with the farmers. Turn up your nose like this, dear. See how I do it. Ladies do not step in manure, Elizabeth. Wipe your shoes immediately."
"Do not pass tiles to the workmen, Elizabeth. Ladies do not help repair the roof." Elizabeth joined in, rose upright from the waist and lifted her forearms to chest height in affectation, "Get down off that ladder at once!"
"Come away from that field. No planting for you! Put down those filthy seeds immediately!"
"Only see how you have soiled your gloves. Bad countess!"
"I shall lock you in the turret if you don't learn how to behave yourself!" Elizabeth laughed a little, then sighed and shook her head. "She is so commanding. I’ll be afraid to ever cross her or talk back."
"You shall be Lady Carhampton. You'll outrank her."
"I doubt she'll allow that to alter her course one iota."
"I am glad she's not to be my mama-in-law."
"You will have much worse, for I shall see you are married off to a duke and then you'll have a dowager duchess to tell you how to go on."
"Heavens," Katherine cringed. "Only imagine it."
"I must get some sleep now, for tomorrow I have such a schedule I don't know how we'll find time for it all."
"Elizabeth?" Katherine came around the bed to sit beside her, their hips separated by the luxurious weight of bedding. "We will still see each other once you are married, won't we?"