Winthrop Trilogy Box Set

by Burnett, May

  “Do you have any plans for the summer yet?” Aunt Penelope asked her. “The season will end in just a few more weeks. We have various invitations to house parties, and should decide soon which we want to accept. I incline towards the Amberleys’ invitation, their place in the Lake region is perfect for early summer, and there will be other young people present.”

  “I would prefer to wait a few more days, before taking any decision,” Susan said, “though I leave the destination up to you, Aunt Penelope. And I might yet accept someone, after all.” She stirred the soup with her spoon, clock-wise, then counter-clockwise, as the others described their plans for the summer. Each of them would be in a different place, with different people. Her family had no firm centre since her mother’s death. When she married, she would regulate her own family better than this.

  “Do any of you know what has become of Miss Renshaw?” she asked casually as the second course was removed. “We knew each other last season, and I would like to assist her.”

  “Susan – that is hardly a proper subject for a dinner!” her aunt admonished her with unaccustomed severity. “That girl is no longer recognized, and her name should not even be mentioned in polite society. She has made her bed, and must lie on it.”

  “Who?” Theodore asked. He had come down from Oxford only a few months ago. “What bed, and how?”

  “A debutante,” Jeremy said shortly, “who had the bad taste to let her dancing master seduce her. Her parents threw her out and if her former friends meet her, they pretend she is invisible.”

  “You knew this girl?” Theodore asked Susan. “Why would you want to assist her? Nothing to be done in such a case.”

  “Yes,” Aunt Penelope said, “Susan, any contact with a fallen woman would taint you as well. You know that. And besides, don’t tell me you were friends with Polly Renshaw, she was jealous of you and never liked you that I could see.”

  “I forbid you to have any contact with Miss Renshaw,” Susan’s father said sternly.

  “Very well,” Susan said, in a subdued voice. She did not have the slightest real desire to meet Miss Renshaw again, who had once called her a stuck-up icicle in the withdrawing room at the Merrion ball. Susan had already considered the girl flighty and foolish when that scandal had briefly exercised the ton, before being superseded with the next, and the next.

  “How is your bill coming along, Papa?” she asked the Earl. He loved to talk politics, and though his sons considered this passion abysmally boring, Susan found it an infallible method to change the subject. By the time they had been told at great length about the iniquity of Lord Branscombe’s political opponents, another course was removed, and the conversation moved on to sports and horses. Just as well, as nobody expected Susan to be an active participant on those subjects, and she had a great deal to think about.

  “You look very thoughtful,” Jeremy said softly as the sweet course was served. “If it is about Miss Renshaw’s predicament, I can send her a sum anonymously, if you like. You must not appear in the affair. I admire your sense of charity, even if I think it misplaced in this particular case.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jeremy was the most perceptive of her three brothers, not necessarily a good thing just now. She quickly changed the subject again. “By the way, have you read Frankenstein yet? Everybody was talking about it at the Barcleyville Rout. Is it really possible that it can have been written by a lady close to my own age?” Susan herself had only read the first two chapters of the recently published novel before concluding that the style was not to her taste.

  “I have read it,” Theodore said. “I do not think it is scientifically sound, however. The idea is interesting, but there were overwrought passages that I had to skip.”

  “These lurid gothick books are more and more popular,” Aunt Penelope complained, “it is a sign of decadence, I fear. I much prefer the robust classics of the last century, like Fielding or Sterne.”

  “The modern theatre too is in sad decline,” Lord Branscombe agreed. “I cannot abide the sickly sentimentality and unlikely plots of the more recent plays.”

  “At least we still see the older, better plays of the past performed now and then,” Jeremy commented. “And modern poets and musicians are as good as anything in the past, if not better. I believe the nineteenth century may yet produce a few masterpieces.”

  “Or what passes for such, with popular taste ever more maudlin,” his aunt said. “At least our family has not so far produced any scribblers and poets.”

  “Who knows – maybe Theodore is writing in his spare time?” Barnaby suggested.

  His younger sibling violently shook his head. “What, and expose myself to being pilloried by the critics? That is not how I mean to make my mark.”

  The conversation turned to various professions open to an enterprising, well-born young man in these modern times, leaving Susan once again to her contemplation of an impending tragedy she could not possibly discuss with anyone in her family. The tight restrictions on young unmarried females of good birth, - light enough as they were in her case, compared to others like poor Abby – were chafing on her independent spirit. All those possibilities that her family were discussing for young Theodore were firmly closed to herself, despite her equal intelligence and greater wealth.

  She would have to take a risk, some bold step – but would it help, or worsen her predicament? So much could go wrong, yet there really was no choice. Time was not on Susan’s side, and inaction would be fatal.

  Chapter 5

  Susan had known this would be a difficult interview, but now the moment had arrived, her courage nearly failed her. The utter impropriety of her presence in the shabby lodgings of a gentleman after midnight was in itself enough to ruin her, if word leaked out about this escapade.

  She glanced at the meagre pile of logs in the fireplace, the small pianoforte, the worn settee on which Lord Northcote had been reading before her arrival, judging by the volume of Latin poetry still lying there. She had known he was poor, counted on the fact; but seeing how very modestly he lived still shocked her.

  If only she knew him better, and could be certain that her reading of his character was accurate! An overheard conversation in a dark garden was a feeble reed on which to wager her whole life and happiness, even if her discreet enquiries over the previous week had confirmed her initial impression.

  “What an unexpected pleasure. To what do I owe this honour?” Northcote asked as Susan let the broad hood of her domino drop back from her head. At least there were no servants to add to her discomfiture; he had opened the door himself.

  There was an awkward silence while Susan pulled herself together. “I realize you must be surprised at such an unconventional visit at this hour,” she finally began. It had taken some engineering, too – her aunt believed she had left the Dentons’ masquerade ball with friends; instead she had hired a hack, for the first time in her life.

  Her host stared at her for a long moment from dark grey eyes, frowning slightly. “Unconventional? Say rather, foolhardy, brainless and ruinous, my lady. Are you not aware that you could be obliged to marry me out of hand if this visit became known? I have no wish to shackle myself to a female merely because she was indiscreet, and I’m quite sure you can do better than my humble self. How many suitors do you have dangling around you at last count? At least an even dozen, I would imagine.”

  This censorious attitude was hardly promising for the success of her delicate mission. Susan sighed and tried again. “You may be certain that only dire necessity would have compelled me to come here, to discuss an urgent and confidential subject.” Her words sounded hollow and melodramatic to her own ears. “Before I do so, will you give me your word that my visit, and what I am about to reveal, will remain between the two of us?”

  Lord Northcote took two steps from the settee to the fireplace, the smallness of the room emphasizing the restless impatience of his movement. The changing light of the fire exaggerated his scowl. Sus
an’s glance took in the light cleft in his chin and the irrepressible curl in his dark, short-cut hair.

  “Why on earth should I promise you that? Do you not realize that I could force you to marry me, and what a temptation your huge dowry, as well as your other assets,” – he skimmed a brief but comprehensive glance over her body – “represent to a man in my circumstances?”

  “Yes, I know,” she replied calmly. “I also know I can rely on your honour not to give in to this temptation.”

  There was another pause. Lord Northcote’s scowl had lightened the smallest bit at her last words. He turned back to face her. “Oh, very well, I must admit to some curiosity about what brought you to my humble lodgings. I won’t reveal your secrets.”

  “Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “What I am about to propose is a bargain, my lord.” Susan swallowed, trying to master her tension now that the crucial moment had arrived.

  “Well?”

  “A moment ago you spoke of my dowry, as well as more personal assets. Though you are not among my suitors, am I wrong in supposing that, ah, given your situation, an alliance with me would not be unwelcome?”

  Northcote’s eyes widened at her words. He stared at her for several long, nerve-wracking seconds.

  “You know as well as I that if I tried to court you, your father and brothers would quickly send me about my business, as they have done to any number of fortune-hunters already. Just as I would do in their place.”

  “True, but you have not answered my question. Maybe you would like a few minutes to think it over.”

  “You’re in earnest, are you?” He still sounded incredulous. Susan did not reply, aware of his keen gaze on her face. He rubbed his chin in thought before shrugging with exaggerated insouciance.

  “If it were feasible, no, I should not object to marrying you. Eighty thousand pounds would come in very handy, and they make an irresistible combination with your face and shape. As for your brains and character, I never considered them worse than those of any other society widgeon, though this current escapade raises serious doubts on that head. In what monumental trouble have you placed yourself, to make a marriage to me even thinkable? What’s the quid pro quo, Lady Susan?”

  His sardonic tone chilled Susan to the bone. What had she been thinking of, to apply to him? But, she reminded herself, he was the only man she could think of who just might have a sufficiently urgent motive to accept her proposal, as well as the character to make the outcome palatable to herself. He could not possibly have paid off debts of sixteen thousand pounds in the few weeks since he’d first come to her notice.

  “I am about to confess to my family that I have been compromised and need to marry immediately, before the consequences become too vi-visible,” she stated, stumbling only slightly over the humiliating words, and looking squarely at his face, to gauge the reaction. Although judging from his previous remark, Northcote must have expected something of this nature, he imperceptibly recoiled and stiffened. An icy blast seemed to waft through the small room – though perhaps it was only the inadequacy of the small fire.

  He recovered his composure within moments. “That’s what you plan to tell them, is it?” He stared at her for an unnerving moment. “Is it true?”

  Her eyes involuntarily dipped to the shabby carpet for a moment. She tore them back up. “What woman would lie about such a matter? Do you think I like tarnishing the family honour? It means a great deal to me.”

  He was looking her with an inscrutable expression now. “And here I thought you the best-protected heiress in London. What villain has been able to breach your defences?”

  Did his light-hearted tone sound a little forced? No matter. Susan ploughed on. “Yes, well, that is the question my father and brothers will inevitably ask. They will of course want to call the man out, but if he is not totally ineligible, to save my reputation they will insist on an immediate wedding.”

  “And I gather you plan to name me as your heartless seducer? But why, for heaven’s sake? Is the real culprit some lackey or footman, or married?”

  This was becoming even more awkward than Susan had bargained for. All at once the whole project seemed hopeless, even mad, and she could not support his cynical gaze for another moment. She raised her chin defiantly. “If that is your opinion of me, I fear I have wasted my time coming here tonight. I shall have to find someone else.” She reached for the hood of her cloak.

  He sighed and shook his head. “What else was I to think after such an announcement? Sit, Lady Susan, and tell me more about this bargain you propose. I might as well hear you out. As for approaching any other man with such news, you must know that any remnant of reputation you might yet hope to salvage would be lost for good.”

  He was right, drat it. She sat down stiffly on the room’s only armchair, clutching her small reticule before her midriff for support. The armchair smelled faintly of tobacco.

  “You are familiar with my family –.“

  “They all think you are perfect, and would do anything for you. I wonder, though, how they are going to react to your revelation.”

  “They will forgive me, I am sure. Particularly if I marry before the story gets out.”

  “So far,” he said meditatively, “I have not caught even the smallest whiff of this budding scandal. Surprising, really. How have you managed to preserve your reputation for impeccable purity from all those sharp-eyed gossips?”

  “The usual way; I have always behaved circumspectly, and you yourself have remarked how well I have been guarded.”

  “Not well enough, it would seem.” This attempt to goad her failed, she merely stared into the flickering fire.

  “I cannot help you unless you are frank with me, you know.”

  “There are one or two details I cannot tell you until you are committed. They do not involve anything illegal or dishonourable, I promise you.”

  He frowned, his dark eyes intent on her own. It was unnerving – what was going on behind that inscrutable face?

  When he spoke, it was calmly enough. “If I am to pretend to be the father of your child, I must at least know the truth about that. What if the real father claimed it? Your dowry is temptation enough. That would place us all in a truly awkward position.”

  “He would not dare – I mean, there is no danger of that, I am certain.”

  “Hm. Well, I’d just have to call him out. I daresay he richly deserves it.”

  “There is no point risking innocent lives in a duel. I consider the practice barbaric.”

  “You don’t have any tender feelings for him or for anyone else, that would interfere with our relationship?”

  “No. What about you? Is there a sweetheart or mistress who engages your affections?”

  He shrugged dismissively. “No, and I’m hardly in a position to maintain a mistress, as you can observe from the state of my lodgings. Nor would I start doing so on your money. Whatever has gone before, after we are married I would not permit you to so much as kiss any other man. Is that quite clear?”

  “Yes, I can accept that.”

  “And I would insist on consummating the marriage frequently.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you?” He stepped close to her and caught her in his arms. From the business-like tone of the preceding exchange Susan had not been expecting it, and needed a few moments to gather her scattered wits. By then Northcote had grasped the back of her head with his right hand – she noticed how big and warm it felt – and pressed his lips on her mouth.

  Instinctively she stiffened, reminded of Fenton’s similar action, but this felt very different and more pleasant; she came close to relaxing. Still, after a few moments she pushed him away, and he did not resist. “I cannot allow such liberties before we have an agreement.” To her annoyance, she sounded slightly out of breath.

  “I would apologize, but I needed to check.” Whatever could he mean? “I accept your bargain, my lady, God help me, even though it means I have to appear a fortune
hunter and seducer to the world.”

  “Thank you. I shall try to be a good wife to you.” She hesitated, biting her lips, then added in a low voice, ”You won’t hate the child for what it cannot help? I realize that it would be best if it was a girl, but that is impossible to know in advance.”

  “I shall pretend it was mine, and hope to forget the rest. As for the family honour, what my brother has already done to it recently is much worse in my eyes. There is not much left to tarnish at this point. When is this child due, by the way?”

  “In seven to eight months. It could have had its start at the Collington house party,” she added diffidently, “if we’d done more than exchange a couple of polite phrases on that occasion.”

  “I wish now that we had,” he said ruefully. “I was keeping my distance, considering you above my touch. How strangely this is turning out! Are you quite sure you know what you’re doing?”

  Chapter 6

  As he approached the ornate entrance of the Branscombe residence towards eleven o’clock the next morning, North caught himself wondering if last night’s visit had been the figment of a disordered mind. Had the relentless pressure of debt and worry bequeathed by his late half-brother loosened his hold on reality? That hypothesis seemed no less unlikely than Lady Susan’s strange offer.

  After escorting Lady Susan home in the hired hack, North had found it impossible to sleep for the remainder of the night. Something in her story did not add up. He had satisfied himself that she did not kiss like a wanton; not even for all the tea in China would he tie himself to a beautiful nymphomaniac. But neither had she kissed like a woman who had been frightened and taken against her will, as he’d half suspected was the case. He vividly remembered the dramatic scene at the Collingtons’ breakfast table, and the possessiveness in Fenton’s attitude. A brute who would force a kiss on an unwilling lady might be capable of even worse crimes. If so, it would be small wonder if she’d grasp at any straw – even an obscure and debt-ridden baron – to escape marriage to such a man. Yet her reaction to his kiss did not jibe with this theory, leaving him puzzled.