by Mary Nichols
Harry looked up at him and grimaced, knowing Francis considered himself in the first stare of fashion. ‘Good morning, Frank,’ he said cheerfully. ‘What has befallen to have you out of your bed at so early an hour? Nothing more dreadful than the departure of your valet, I hope.’
‘Departure of Villiers? Why would he leave? I pay him well and he has always given satisfaction, if you discount a tendency to liking plain colours.’
‘I can quite see that you would object to that,’ Harry said, looking his young cousin up and down. ‘But had you considered he might be right?’
‘Of course he is not right. Plain colours are a bore. And I did not come here to discuss my wardrobe.’
‘No? Then you must have come for breakfast. Do sit down and I will order some fresh coffee and more hot rolls.’
‘Didn’t come for breakfast either.’ Nevertheless he sat down at the table and helped himself to coddled eggs and ham. ‘Came about this.’ He tapped the newspaper which he had put down beside his plate.
‘The Journal?’ Harry enjoyed teasing his cousin. ‘So, what is in it to fetch you out at…’ he glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantelshelf ‘…nine in the morning? Why, the streets are hardly aired. It must be something dire.’
‘It is. Someone has been playing a joke on you, Coz. Knew you would not see it yourself, so came at once.’
‘Oh, dear, you have me in quake. Please do enlighten me.’
Francis abandoned his breakfast to pick up the paper and find the page containing the announcements of births, deaths, marriages and betrothals. He folded it so that Harry’s announcement was uppermost and tapped it with his finger. ‘This. I enjoy a joke as much as the next man, but this is beyond everything. You must insist on a disclaimer.’
‘Must I?’ Harry murmured, taking the paper from him and scanning the notice, which had faithfully reproduced his words. ‘Why?’
‘But you cannot have everyone believing you are going to marry this…this…’ He paused to take the paper back and refer to it for the name. ‘Miss Rosamund Chalmers, whoever she might be. Ten to one she doesn’t exist.’
‘Then you would lose your money, Cousin, because she undoubtedly does exist. A most charming lady.’
Francis stared at him, his mouth open. ‘You do not mean…You cannot mean…’
‘Oh, but I do. You may felicitate me.’
‘Well, of all the sly, mean, underhand things to do.’
‘I do not quite understand you,’ Harry said, though he understood only too well. ‘What is sly and mean about it?’
‘You always maintained you would not marry again. You as good as swore it.’
‘I do not remember swearing to it. That would have been an exceedingly foolish thing to have done. And if I expressed a reluctance to remarry, it was perhaps because I did not think I should find a lady to suit me. But now I have and she has consented to become my wife.’
‘Without a word to me.’
‘But why should I consult you, Frank?’
‘I am your heir.’
‘So you are,’ Harry said calmly. ‘What is that to the point?’
‘You might have children.’
‘I hope I may.’
‘I do believe you have done it to spite me.’
‘Now, Frank, why on earth would I harbour spite? You know that is not in my nature. Besides, you have never done anything to harm me, have you?’ He paused and smiled. ‘Unless it be to hurt my eyes with your dazzling coats.’
‘Well, I hope you do not come to regret it, that’s all I can say.’
‘Is it? I had hoped for a word or two of congratulation.’
‘Oh, as to that, yes, my felicitations.’ It was said grudgingly, but it had to be said because he was a little pinched in the pocket and he dare not slay the goose that laid the golden eggs.
‘Thank you,’ Harry said, as solemnly as he could manage.
‘There’s something else I meant to ask while I was here, but perhaps it’s not the time.’
‘The time is as good as any. In deep, are you?’
The younger man looked startled for a moment, then grinned. ‘Yes, I am a touch.’
‘How much?’
‘Five hundred would settle my most pressing debts. The rest can wait.’
‘On the contrary, I do not wish to be dunned for your debts, which will undoubtedly happen if you do not pay them, especially now when your creditors will know I am about to wed again, so I will have a list of the whole, if you please.’
‘I ain’t exactly sure…’
‘Come now, Frank, a figure if you please.’
‘Five thousand should do it.’
‘Five thousand!’ Harry was accustomed to his cousin’s profligacy, but even he was surprised at the amount. ‘How did that come about?’
‘Don’t rightly know. Things just mount up, you know.’
‘Very well.’ Harry rose and left the room and returned a few minutes later with a bill of exchange made out and signed for five thousand guineas. He laid it on the table beside his cousin. ‘I hope that will suffice.’ He sat down again and refilled his coffee cup.
‘My eternal gratitude, Harry.’
‘I know you think you are only spending what will one day be yours, Frank, but I give you notice that should I have any more demands of this nature, I shall have nothing to do but refuse. Contrary to your belief, my purse is not bottomless. Try, at least, to curb the gambling and give your tailor the bag. He is not worth the money you lay out on him. I can recommend one who will serve you better.’
‘I am perfectly content with my tailor, thank you. And you can’t expect a fellow to give up gambling, now can you? You do it yourself.’
‘So I do, but not to excess and I can afford to. You cannot.’
Francis had no answer to this and, having got what he came for, he bowed his way out, the bill safely tucked into his capacious coat pocket.
Harry watched him go, with some amusement, then sallied out to the mews to have his stallion, Hector, saddled and took himself off to his own tailor to bespoke himself a wedding outfit.
Learning that Lord Portman had furnished Max with two hundred pounds with which to deck herself out for her wedding, Rosamund was overcome with his generosity, though Aunt Jessica did not agree. ‘With all the riches he has, he could afford more than that,’ she grumbled. ‘Does he not know how much it costs to finance a society wedding?’
‘I do not suppose he does,’ Rosamund said mildly.
‘Then Max should have pointed it out to him.’
‘I do not suppose Max knew either,’ Rosamund said reasonably. ‘Men don’t, do they? And I am perfectly content. We can buy a fine gown and everything to go with it and bespoke a wedding breakfast easily with that.’ She gave a wry smile, which her aunt did not understand. ‘I do not wish to outshine my groom. And I beg you, Aunt, not to refer to it as a society wedding.’
‘If you think you are going to get away with a hole-and-corner affair, you are mistaken, miss. Lord Portman is a man of consequence and his wedding will be talked about. You will become the centre of attention and to try to hide from it will cause more gossip. Now let us go shopping. I have sent for my carriage.’
There was nothing for it, but to follow her aunt on a round of shopping, which was exhausting. The most important item was the wedding dress itself, which Mrs Bullivant’s mantua maker would make up for her. After a great deal of argument over what colour would be proper given her state of mourning and Mrs Bullivant’s determination she should shine, a pale dove-grey silk was chosen. The material was heavily embroidered with swirls of leaves and flowers in silver. The pattern chosen was a sack-back, with a square neckline and narrow sleeves to the elbow, finished in a froth of lace. The stomacher was of white quilted satin, which was laced with silk cord and came to a point below the waist. It was to be worn over a panniered petticoat. Having settled that all-important issue they moved on to order underclothes, shoes, hats, shawls and jackets, which
ate up more than half the money his lordship had provided. They would have been furious with Max if they had known the true extent of Lord Portman’s generosity, but they had no reason to doubt his honesty.
‘It is a month to the wedding day,’ Aunt Jessica reminded Rosamund as if she needed reminding. ‘His lordship will want to take you out and about, so we must have day gowns and walking-out gowns.’
‘Surely those I have will do. I cannot come out of mourning before the day of my wedding.’
‘Mourning clothes can be attractive, child. It is all in the quality and cut of the material. Come, let us see what we can find.’
Rosamund sighed and followed her aunt, who was enjoying herself even if Rosamund was not. But she could not help becoming caught up in the excitement and for a little while tried to forget the strange manner of her betrothal and pretend that she really was a bride going to the altar to marry the man she loved. It did not hurt to dream. Contrary to her aunt’s conviction, she wondered if she would see her groom again before the wedding day and came to the conclusion that it was unlikely.
In this she was wrong because he called the next afternoon, at a time when Aunt Jessica was entertaining a crowd of her bosom bows who had seen the announcement in the newspaper and were curious to discover what there was about her niece to capture the likes of Lord Portman. They found a mature young lady, dressed simply in a black taffeta sack gown trimmed with white lace, who wore her own hair simply dressed with a few curls and ringlets. Not a beauty, they decided; she was too tall for one thing and too thin, and, without powder and patch, her face was too highly coloured when the fashion was to be pale.
The old lady was in raptures over Harry’s arrival and twittered about presenting all the ladies to him and it was some minutes before he was able to greet and talk to Rosamund. ‘You are overwhelmed, I see,’ he said, indicating the crowded room, after bowing to her and kissing her hand.
‘It pleases my aunt. Please do not feel you must stay beyond what politeness dictates.’
‘You do not wish to see me?’ he asked, his voice so low only she could hear it..
‘Oh, I did not mean that. I…’ She floundered. ‘Naturally I am glad to see you.’
‘And I you, my dear. We should take every opportunity to get to know each other, don’t you think? Then we shall not have any unpleasant surprises later.’
She wondered what he meant by that. Did he think she had unpleasant habits or inherent faults? Did he have secret vices? No doubt he drank and gambled, but what man didn’t? ‘I hope there may not be,’ she said. ‘I am as you see me.’
‘I do not doubt it. I was thinking of myself. You must wish to know more about me. And to that end, I came to ask if you would like to come for a drive. I have my phaeton outside.’
‘I can hardly abandon my aunt and her friends.’
‘I do not see why not.’ He turned to address Mrs Bullivant. ‘You will forgive me, dear lady, if I carry off your niece. I have a fancy to drive a little way into the country and would have her company.’
‘As to that, I can have no objection,’ Mrs Bullivant said. ‘But who is to chaperon her? I cannot leave my guests.’
‘I had to part with my maid, when I left Holles Street,’ Rosamund explained. ‘It was one thing I meant to ask, if you would allow me to ask her to serve me.’
‘Why, my dear, you do not need to ask. By all means, fetch her back. Where can she be found?’
‘She has gone to stay with her sister in Hampstead until she can find a new position.’
‘Then send for her at once. Better still, let us go and fetch her.’
‘My lord,’ Aunt Jessica objected, ‘Should you—’
‘Oh, no doubt I should,’ he said airily. ‘I cannot have my bride-to-be without a maid, not even for an instant. I do hope you can accommodate her for the short time Miss Chalmers will be staying with you.’
‘Yes, of course.’ She could hardly say anything else with all her friends present.
‘Good.’ He turned to Rosamund. ‘Come, my love, we shall not be overlong. I am sure these good ladies will excuse us.’ He bowed all round, took Rosamund’s hand and fairly dragged her out of the door, leaving behind six open mouths and six pairs of eyes agog.
‘My lord,’ she protested as he led her out to his carriage. ‘You have shocked those dear ladies.’
‘Oh, they will forgive me and will no doubt put it down to the great affection I have for you and my impatience to have you to myself.’
‘You are taking this play acting too far,’ she said, as he helped her into the carriage, climbed in beside her and took up the reins.
‘Nonsense. If they are going to be shocked and amused, then it shall be with me and not you.’
She was silent, unable to make up her mind if this handsome, very rich nobleman was making fun of her or not. Surely he could not make the ton believe he had fallen in love with her? And why would he want to? Marriages of convenience were not rare. While still being in complete control of his horses, he had turned to look at her and was studying her face so closely she began to wonder what there was about it that absorbed him so. She knew she was not a beauty, but neither was she ugly. ‘You must be the first gentleman I have met who is indifferent to the opinion of the haut monde,’ she said.
He laughed. ‘I can afford to be. They call it eccentricity.’
‘Eccentric enough to take a nobody for a wife.’
‘Please disabuse yourself of the notion you are a nobody. According to your aunt your family can trace its lineage back to Tudor times.’
‘No doubt she is busy this very minute telling that to her friends to explain away your eccentricity.’
‘And your eligibility.’ He paused to negotiate a turn, which he did to a nicety. ‘Shall we agree we are well matched and leave it at that? Tell me about the wedding arrangements. Do they go well?’
‘Yes, and I have you to thank for that.’
‘Forget that too. I have. Have you sent out the invitations?’
‘Not yet. My aunt is busy drawing up a list.’
‘I have one or two names I should like to add, if you would be so kind. My Aunt Portman, my father’s sister, and my cousin Francis and a few close associates.’
‘Of course. Please give my aunt their directions. I assume Sir Ashley is one of their number?’
‘Yes, but you need not fear he will betray us. He is the soul of discretion. As far as the world is concerned we have contracted a perfectly conventional marriage.’
‘Is it my pride or yours you are protecting?’ she demanded.
Not for the first time he was taken back by her perceptiveness and her outspokenness. ‘Both, my dear. Now we are arrived in Hampstead, be so good as to direct me to your maid’s address.’
Janet was overjoyed to find she was going to back to Rosamund, whom she had known since she was a child, and as a lady’s maid, which was a big step up for her. And Miss Rosamund was to become Lady Portman, which was a source of even greater delight. ‘You deserve some happiness, after looking after your papa for so long,’ she told Rosamund, while Harry looked on with amused tolerance. ‘And I wish it for you with all my heart.’ Her sister was out and she needed time to pack her few belongings and so Harry said he would send a carriage for her the following day; having arranged a time, they left.
‘I cannot believe this is happening to me,’ Rosamund told Harry as they set off back to town. ‘I sincerely hope you may not regret it.’
‘I cannot think why I should,’ he said calmly. ‘We have each set out our stall and there can be no room for misunderstanding, can there?’
‘None at all,’ she said. His words put a damper on her feeling of euphoria and brought her back to reality with a painful bump, and for the remainder of the journey, they talked about the weather, speculated on what the Royal bride would be like because she had not yet arrived in the country, and commented on The Jealous Wife, the latest play at Drury Lane, which had been heralded as one of th
e finest comedies of its time—everything except their coming nuptials.
When they arrived at Chandos Street, Harry accompanied her to the door, but declined an invitation to come in for refreshment. ‘I will call again, if I may,’ he said, taking her hand and bowing over it. ‘To bring my friends’ directions. And we can arrange an evening for our visit to the Theatre Royal. I will introduce you to some of the cast afterwards and perhaps we can have supper with them. That is if you would like it.’
‘Certainly I would, my lord.’
The footman had opened the door and she passed inside, leaving him to go back to his carriage.
Her aunt was alone in the drawing room and all agog to know what had happened, to which she replied, ‘Why nothing, Aunt. We saw Janet and she is to come here tomorrow.’
‘I cannot think why you mentioned her to his lordship. She has not been trained as a lady’s maid.’
‘After Mama died, she always maided me when I needed it and I shall be glad to have someone familiar by me when I move to Bishop’s Court. Lord Portman has relations and friends he would like invited to the wedding. He is going to call with their directions. And he is going to take me to the theatre.’
‘Oh, Rosamund, what a gentleman he is! You have certainly fallen on your feet and will be the envy of the whole ton.’
In the four weeks before the wedding, she was frequently seen out and about in Lord Portman’s company. Although they could not go to balls and routs on account of her mourning, they could, and did, attend musical concerts, went for walks and rides in his lordship’s phaeton, visited Vauxhall Gardens, called on Viscount Leinster and his charming wife, Louise, saw the play at the Theatre Royal, where she met Lady Sophie Charron, the famous actress and mother-in-law to Lord Drymore. In public Harry was always the sumptuously dressed macaroni, with the affected high-pitched voice and mincing gait, but in private he dropped the pretension and became a very different man: strong, kind and careful of her. She was tempted to ask why he did it, but decided she did not know him well enough.