by Vanessa Gray
But Edward, almost pounding his fist on his knees, said, “I refuse to allow it. It is too pretentious, too out-of-place. We should keep more to ourselves, lest our neighbors think we are vaunting ourselves simply because Chloe has had a bit of good fortune.”
Lydia for once was silent, letting her mother lead the attack. Lady Rothwell was nothing loath. “It is time that our girls got some experience at being in society,” said Lady Rothwell. “You tell them they are not at ease, which I doubt, but so you say. Then you deny them the opportunity to get the very experience you chide them for not having. I declare, Edward, your reasoning baffles me entirely.”
It was clear to Richard that this was not the first time the subject had been mentioned. Edward was heated. He said, unequivocally, “Lydia is too young for London, and she is too young for Kent. She is certainly not old enough to come out at what would be after all a ball that appears to be in her honor. Unless you had in mind to present Chloe to the entire county?”
Lady Rothwell was taken aback. “Certainly not. Chloe needs no introduction to our friends and neighbors.” Lady Rothwell was having second thoughts. If she did in fact invite the entire county, as it seemed her plan was, then all would have a chance to meet Chloe, knowing full well that she had received a legacy. Since it was her heartfelt wish to bring Chloe and Francis together, she could see that her plan for a large entertainment would defeat her own purpose. Unless Chloe could be persuaded not to join? Lady Rothwell dismissed the idea as soon as it came.
Richard stood in the doorway, his stomach turning in disgust. He glanced at Sophy, whose bright little eyes, like a chipmunk’s, were watching her mother and her brother. It was clear to Richard, who had no illusions about Sophy and her malicious nature, that the child was assessing the relative merits of each side. And when the outcome was clear, on that side Sophy would be. Ever one to range herself on the side of victory, with its attendant advantages, Sophy had only to bide her time.
Edward, with a start, noticed Richard. Chloe had not yet said what she thought about the ball, but her cheeks were flushed. Richard was not sure whether it was the prospect of all the arrangements, which he knew would unfailingly fall upon her slender shoulders, or whether she shrank from appearing in public with her stepmother’s doubtful protection.
The family row broke up. It was not over, but was merely postponed to a later time, when the combatants would have gathered further ammunition and start anew.
Richard and Chloe were left alone. She exclaimed, “How fortunate I am in having a friend!”
“Is it something you can talk to me about?”
“Yes, I feel so guilty. I sometimes wish I were not here. It must be wrong of me not to love my family more than I do. I want to go and live at Highmoor, but Edward says it is totally out of the question.”
Richard was ready to lay his heart at her feet. She wanted to leave Rothwell — he would provide the means. Highmoor was inappropriate, he agreed with Edward on that, but he was too wise to say so. He had opened his mouth to say what was in his heart, when she broke out.
Vehemently, she cried out, “I wish I had never heard of the legacy! I cannot help but feel that people are more conscious of it than I am. I do think of Highmoor, to be honest, as though it were a dream. But I keep seeing in people’s eyes the idea that here’s Chloe Rothwell, nothing without the fortune that she has inherited!”
Richard said, “I’m sure you are mistaken.”
She ignored his protest. “It is an ugly feeling, and I wish I could wash it away as one washes dirty hands, but I can’t. I begin not to trust people.”
Richard said calmly, “No one?”
A great deal hung on her answer, he thought, and yet he made no effort to sway her mind. She turned to him, with that glowing smile that wrenched something inside of him. “Only you, Richard, for you want nothing of me. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you that you have asked me for nothing. I don’t see that ugly look in your eye, the look I see in that disgusting Mr. Invers’, for instance.” She took Richard’s hands, and he felt hers cold and shivering within his fingers. “I pray you, Richard, do not change. I should be lost indeed without my Great Friend!”
The words he had planned to say to her stuck in his throat, and he could not speak over the lump they made. But he must say something, for there was too much in his eyes, and he feared she would read it. Swallowing hard, he said, to his own great surprise, “I’m going up to London tomorrow.”
“To London?” she queried. “I had hoped you would stay ...” and then, blushing, her voice trailed away.
He said, “I do not wish to tell you why, but I will be gone only a couple of days.” Then he added. “I will trust you not to say anything about my trip to anyone.”
She nodded, her heart too full to speak. Without a doubt Richard was going to London to see someone who claimed his devotion, and he would come back and tell her which one he had chosen. She was at least grateful that he did not now confide his hopes to her.
Richard saw that she was troubled and took it as a sign that she missed him and was glad of his presence. He had no way of knowing what was in her thoughts, and therefore it did not occur to him, naturally, to deny her supposition.
In due course Richard took his leave, kissing her hand as he left. He did not look back. He was low in his mind, the reverse of his cheerful mood when he had come up the drive. Then he had thought that like Lochinvar, he would come out of the wilds and carry her off, not stopping for brake or for stone. But the bride, contrary to Lochinvar’s, was unwilling.
Chloe, watching him go down the drive, saw her one main support in her trying life going to marry someone else. If Richard’s mood was low, which she could not know, her own was at the nadir.
In London the next day, Richard sat across from his attorney, Mr. Aston. His mood was no lighter than it had been when he left Chloe the day before. Several thoughts had come to Richard’s mind overnight. There were several inquiries he wished Aston to make. “Edward’s reputation, Mr. Aston?” he asked. “He has in his hands a trust. I wonder whether he has played false with it?” Mr. Aston, a wisp of a man, dry as his own briefs and full of repetition, but as shrewd as any man in London, said, “Oh no, tut tut tut tut, Sir Richard. Lord Rothwell is totally honest. Following the hint contained in your letter last week, I have made inquiry. The trust is in fine shape, has even been augmented. The interest is paid out regularly into the trustee’s hands, Sir Richard, and what happens to it then I cannot know. But the capital is in fine shape.”
Richard mused. “Then that’s not the trouble.” Then, making a decision, Richard said, “Now here’s what I’d like you to do.” He gave him certain instructions, and finished, “Be ready to act.”
Mr. Aston, eyeing him shrewdly, said, “In what direction?”
But Richard could not tell him. “I don’t know yet, but I am uneasy.”
Mr. Aston, as Sir Richard was one of his best clients, escorted him downstairs to his town phaeton. In an arch fashion, totally at variance with his normal manner, Mr. Aston said, “Are congratulations in order, Sir Richard?”
Richard his mind totally on Chloe, said, “Soon, I hope.”
Richard would have been more circumspect, even with his man of affairs, had he foreseen the next couple of hours. He was walking down Mount Street, and turned into Oxford Street. In a landau, coming his way, was Penelope Salton. She had caught sight of him, and there was no escape. Her mother, Lady Salton, was with her, and they were, so she told Richard, on their way to the fashionable shops, for, she said, “You know there are two parties coming up at Vauxhall and I certainly want to look my best. Are you coming back to town for them?”
Richard made a noncommittal answer and would have moved on, but they had stopped before their destination, and Richard in pure civility escorted Miss Salton and her mother into the shop.
It was unfortunate that Richard did not glance around him, for he might have seen Lady Rothwell’s sister emerging from
a nearby milliner’s. Mrs. Hensley, whose bright little eyes missed nothing, saw Miss Salton and Lady Salton, escorted by Sir Richard Davenant. It was settled then! He had chosen Penelope, and Miss Morland and Miss Folkes must be ready to tear her eyes out! In high glee, planning as she rode home in her barouche the exact words she would use, she hurried to her desk and sat down to write her sister, Lady Rothwell.
12
Toward the end of the week, when Richard had returned to Davenant Hall, he took the next step in his campaign.
Edward, a smile of satisfaction creeping across his plump face, announced to the family that they had received an invitation to visit Davenant Hall. Lady Rothwell crowed. “I shall be glad of a chance to see the residence again, for I have not seen it since old Lady Davenant was gone. It is a fine house, and the prospect is delightful. It will be a pleasure for us to have such close contact with Sir Richard, and his wife, and I look forward to a great deal of entertainment.”
The invitation, though addressed to Lady Rothwell, included Chloe and the two girls.
Chloe, as always, was torn between anxiousness to see Richard again and dread of what he might tell her. Lady Rothwell was no help, for she insisted that this was a neighborly way to announce his engagement to the Rothwells. “For you must know,” she said, “that we have always been on intimate terms with the Davenants, and this is a sign that nothing will change.”
Nothing except her own relation with Richard, Chloe thought dismally. Edward said, “I care nothing for the house, of course, but I understand that he is going to have additional barns erected and I should like to talk to him about the new sheep I’ve ordered.”
Chloe was unusually difficult to please that day. She put on a light yellow muslin, which she discarded in favor of a turquoise round gown with a taffeta sash, and then discarded them both in favor of a moss green with a shawl to match. She was, surprisingly, the last to arrive in the hall.
Sophy said, “You are so flushed, Chloe. Don’t you feel well?”
“I’m perfectly fine!”
They set off down the drive for Davenant Hall. While much older than Rothwell Manor, the Hall was a more attractive residence. Chloe had often been in it when she was a child, but rarely had she arrived at the front entry in a carriage.
Richard stood on the doorstep to welcome them. Suddenly shy, Chloe hesitated until Richard smiled winningly at her, and she hastily stepped inside. The house was sunny and pleasant. Richard showed them one or two of the rooms on the ground floor, which were much lighter in aspect than those corresponding rooms at Rothwell Manor. It was hard to tell why, Chloe thought, except that Richard’s mother had made every effort to bring daylight into the house, and provided cheerful, bright furnishings.
Dall served tea, and Lady Rothwell could find no fault with the service. The silver pot and its appurtenances bore a high degree of polish. The cups had been fashioned early in Josiah Wedgwood’s career, and bore a distinctive appearance that was most charming.
Lady Rothwell remembered Richard’s mother in detail. She spoke approvingly of Lady Davenant’s taste, and Richard’s conversation was reduced to murmured words such as, “I remember when she did that.”
Eventually, Richard broke away from the grasping conversational tentacles of Lady Rothwell and remarked in a voice that included the entire party, “The house needs a woman’s touch again, I fear. My housekeeper tells me of many areas that need attention, although I confess I would not notice them myself.”
Lady Rothwell beamed upon him, and it was clear that she expected him to say more. Since Richard’s mind was traveling on a different road, he did not understand her meaning. She was forced to put it into words. Archly, she queried, “I suppose we will soon hear about a new Lady Davenant.”
Richard, in the grip of his obsession about Chloe, was startled. Had he been so transparent? Was it possible that Chloe had changed her mind about receiving his offer? He glanced sidelong at Chloe, but she was steadily regarding her fingers, joined in her lap. For a very short time, Richard was at a loss for words. Then he caught Chloe’s movement and looked at her directly. She was turning toward him with a startled expression, and her eyes were miserable.
His interpretation, not knowing that Rothwell Manor was agog at the thought of his marrying someone from London, was that Chloe was begging him silently to deny his interest in her. On the surface, Richard recovered quickly and said gallantly to Lady Rothwell, “When the right time comes, believe me, you will be among the first to know.”
She smiled, accepting this promise as only her just due, and sank back in her chair.
Richard, casting about in his mind for an escape from this embarrassing conversation, hit upon the one thing that would turn the trick. He turned to Edward. “Rothwell, would you like to take a look at the stables? I’ve got a new animal that came over from my cousin’s stable, and I’d like your opinion of it. Theale is a good judge of horseflesh, I think, but I’d like to show the horse to you.”
Edward expressed his delight at the invitation, and the two men went to the door, and stopped. Richard turned back and looked at Chloe, and said, “Would you like to come along?” Without ceremony, and with the general aspect of one fleeing from an invader, Chloe leaped to her feet and hurried to the door. She turned back and spoke civilly to Lady Rothwell — “We’ll only be a few minutes” — and left, walking between Richard and Edward.
At the back of the house they paused, and Chloe looked out across the slope down to the stables and beyond, to the woods. From here even the turrets at Rothwell Manor were hidden by the tall trees, and Davenant Hall gave her a feeling of being isolated from the world. Smiling brightly at Richard, she followed him down the slope to the stable. They walked past neglected gardens. Richard pointed out, with mild regret, “There are so many things that need to be done, and I can’t find the time.”
Evans, Richard’s head groom, emerged from the stables and watched them come. Chloe listened with half her mind to Richard and Edward and the lilting cadence of Evans. Evans still kept a bit of Welsh in his speech, pleasant to hear.
But Chloe, while she was interested in horseflesh, was diverted by the stable boy, who watched her curiously from a side door. She smiled at him, and he bobbed his head. He was clearly bothered by something just beyond the door, for he kept looking back and down, and Chloe moved toward him. The door opened, and out came the most enchanting puppy Chloe had ever seen. He was a combination of white and brown, a spaniel of impeccable breeding except for one lop ear. His littermates, all six of them, staggered out of the stable darkness behind him. They hesitated in the light, but it was the lop-ear who perceived Chloe and staggered to her on his weak little legs.
She moved closer and exclaimed over them. Lop-ear, aware of her approbation, reached out a tentative paw and touched her slipper. Without thought, she was down on her knees and lifting the small dog. Richard spoke over her head to the stable boy. “They’re really growing, aren’t they?”
Stiff with the consciousness of his low position, the stable boy could not find words, but Richard said, “You’re taking good care of them, I can see.”
Expanding under Richard’s praise, the boy said, “Aye, they’re all fine, except that one.”
Edward’s pompous voice came in. “Too bad that one’s got a bad ear, for he looks more alert than the rest. Chloe, put him down and look at this one,” Edward continued, anxious to show Richard his knowledge of dogs.
Chloe, suddenly aware of her lack of dignity in kneeling on the dirt playing with the puppy, got to her feet, but the little puppy pawed at her slipper again, clearly telling her that he did not like her desertion.
She stooped and picked him up, and stroked his head, fondling the drooping ear, while the puppy licked her hand, then struggled to apply his tongue to her cheek.
The mother of the puppies watched solicitously from the door, as her seven progeny gamboled in the sunlight. She eyed Chloe with some jealousy, for Chloe was clearly taken with the
one flawed puppy.
Richard said, “I have an idea, Chloe. Why don’t I give you one of these puppies?”
She turned to him, her eyes alight. “Oh, Richard, how good of you! I should love to have one.”
Edward said heavily, “That’s very generous of you, Davenant, and I’ll see that the stable boy takes good care of him. Which one will you give her?”
Richard said, calmly, “Any one she wants.”
Chloe gave the others a cursory glance. Edward picked up one after another pointing out the good points. “You see, this one’s ears hang down as they should, but I confess that brown spot across his nose gives him an awkward appearance. Now this one —” Edward’s voice continued, while Chloe scarcely heard. She turned to Richard, and said, “May I really have one?”
Richard said, “It’s your choice. Take the one you want.”
Edward, in high gig, chose one that while dull, standing closest to the door without much curiosity, yet had the perfect markings that Edward set store by. He picked him up, holding him outstretched away from his body, and said to Chloe, “Here’s the one you should have, if Richard will let it go.”
Chloe gave every indication of listening to Edward and taking his advice, but she still clung to Lop-ear. “I want this one, Edward.”
Edward protested, but Richard, seeing that Chloe and the lop-eared dog were totally engrossed in each other, said, “Chloe has made her choice, and I would not for the world part them now.”
At length, Chloe was persuaded to return the puppy to his mother, upon Richard’s promise that as soon as he could, the puppy would be on its way to his new owner.
Chloe walked beside Richard up the slope toward the house. She said, shyly, “I’ve never had a puppy of my own before.” Her eyes glowed when she thanked Richard once again.
Edward was not satisfied, and murmured to Chloe that Davenant would have no opinion of her judgment. Richard interrupted, and said, “It was a clear affinity. It will take a better man than I am to separate them.” Chloe paused, looked back toward the stables, but the pups were all inside again in the straw. She sighed and turned again toward the house.