“That I am. Helen and I have an…understanding,” he said with a sly smile. “I stay out of her way and she stays out of mine.”
“Is that so?” Johnathan asked with true interest. Perhaps this man could help him in more than business matters. “And how have you orchestrated this ‘understanding’, as you put it?”
The man laughed as he repositioned himself in his chair. “Well, my wife has an interest in gloves. I have no idea what it is about gloves that can interest a woman so; however, there you have it. Anyway, I allowed her to open a glove shop.” Johnathan gave the man a surprised look, but before he could make a comment, Mr. Langley cut him off. “No, no, I realize it is highly unorthodox, but it keeps her busy and I do not have to lift a finger. Of course, we keep the fact that she runs the business from our friends, but rather tell them that I own it and from time to time she goes to visit to see what new gloves are available. They have no idea how often she goes into the shop, and if they happen to stop by and she is there, she tells them that she is looking for a new pair of gloves. The women who work for her play the part to perfection and are well-paid for their silence, so our friends are none the wiser.”
“How remarkable,” Johnathan exclaimed. “And is the shop profitable?”
Mr. Langley slapped his knee and laughed. “Of course not. No woman would ever make more money than I,” he said, continuing to cackle. “However, it is quite profitable to my own sanity. It was the best business, and personal, decision I ever made. She serves her purpose in my bed and will eventually give me an heir, but the remainder of the time she is happy to be doing something she considers ‘worthwhile’.”
Johnathan could not imagine allowing his wife to do such a thing. A marchioness owning a shop of any sort was unheard of. What a ridiculous notion.
His inner thoughts must have shown on his face, for Mr. Langley leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. “Have you ever noticed how Lord Farworth walks around in a disagreeable mood every time you see him?”
The image of the older man and his pinched face came to Johnathan’s mind. “Yes, he does tend to be ill-natured.”
“Then you have Mr. Pontefort. If I have ever seen the man smile, I will eat my hat.”
Johnathan chuckled. “Your point, Langley?” he asked.
“My point is this: Both men married women who wanted the upper hand. Rather than give their wives something to keep them entertained, they instead live in constant irritation. I believe I have found the remedy to the forceful woman. All the proof of a pudding is in the eating, as they say. All one needs to do is look at how well my marriage is going and how happy I am.”
Johnathan rubbed his chin. The man made a valid point. He had met the wives he mentioned and had to admit that both were quite disagreeable, to say the least. Mrs. Langley seemed content in her life, and perhaps there was merit to what Mr. Langley said. However, Johnathan was unsure if the woman he was going to marry had a head for business. She was intelligent, that much he believed, but that did not mean that she could learn and understand the inner workings of a trade. Perhaps he would have his bookkeeper do the bulk of running the business while giving her what would appear to be the ‘reins’ when in reality, her power was no more than a facade. Then, when it was time for her to birth an heir, she would be tame enough to keep at home where she belonged. The idea held much promise with little work on his part.
“Give her a shop, allow her to run it,” Langley said as he placed his glass on a side table. “It will teach her discipline and keep her under reign—forgive me for speaking so bluntly, but you know I speak the truth. In the end, she will be grateful to you, and you will have gotten what you wanted from her.”
Johnathan nodded and then finished off his brandy as he thought over the man’s words. Once he married Miss Huntington, he would be too busy to teach her the inner workings of a business, but he knew something had to be done before she got the idea that she had more power than she did. This would not only give her an outlet, it would keep her busy and maybe even make him a few shillings on the side. Yes, it was a good plan.
He stood and took Mr. Langley’s glass. “Another?”
“But of course,” the man replied. As Johnathan refilled the glasses, Mr. Langley asked, “And what does Miss Huntington think of your upcoming marriage? Do you believe she might try to resist? Some women can be that way.”
Johnathan laughed. “I expect her to resist, of course, perhaps even argue, but in the end, I care not what she wants.” Margaret walked by the open door, her hips swaying provocatively, though she was unaware of it herself. He would have to send for her later. “No,” he said aloud once the woman was out of his sight, “It makes no difference what Miss Huntington wants when it all comes down to it. It only matters what I want.”
***
The following day, Johnathan awoke refreshed and invigorated. He had sent Margaret back to her room immediately after he was done with her and felt no regret in doing so. Today he would begin the largest conquest he had ever undertaken in his life. He would prove to that scoundrel Huntington that he, indeed, had the ability to close a deal, even when it came to someone as stubborn as the man’s daughter. Anger trickled into the happiness at the audacity of the man to believe Johnathan incapable of winning over any woman, and the fact he had been tricked into accepting the deal only worsened that anger. However, he pushed it aside, for he knew he would win it all in the end. He always did.
His footsteps echoed through the large hall as he made his way to the front door where his butler, Stanton, waited with his hat and coat. It was as if the man had memorized his schedule or somehow read his mind, for he was always there, early or late, ready to do Johnathan’s bidding.
“Is the carriage ready?” Johnathan asked as he allowed Stanton to place his coat on his shoulders.
“Yes, My Lord,” Stanton replied stiffly.
“What do you think?” Johnathan asked as he held his arms out. “Do I look like a man ready for courting?”
“The coat fits perfectly, My Lord,” the man replied. “She is a very lucky woman to have been allowed to be in the presence of a gentleman such as yourself.” The perfect answer, as always.
Johnathan looked at his watch. If he left now, he would arrive at Glassberry Estate just at the stroke of three. In every venture, be it business or personal, timeliness was of great importance. It showed that he was committed to whatever agreement he was seeking and demonstrated his attention to detail and consistency.
The carriage pulled up in front of the door and Johnathan smiled. It was a grand vehicle, the best available, and it would make a great impression when he rode up in it. He could win Miss Huntington over without the grandeur, but he would do whatever it took to earn her trust, even if it meant being someone he was not. For he never lost, and he would not allow this to be the first time.
Chapter Five
“Alice,” Mrs. Huntington called from outside her bedroom door, “would you please come downstairs?”
Alice set her pen to the side and blew on the ink of the letter she had completed to a childhood friend who was now living in America. She envied Catherine’s freedom but wished her friend well. In all honesty, Alice doubted she would enjoy America, but seeing beyond her own gardens would have been a welcome sight. Her family rarely enjoyed the travels most wealthy families garnered. Without a title, her father had not yet partaken in a London Season but had promised his wife and daughters the opportunity to become involved in whatever it was families did at that time.
That had been when Alice was much younger, and that day had not come as of yet, though the promise was made every year. It had come to the point that Alice expected to hear the words but knew they held no true promise. Her father had even gone so far as to promise a country home in Cornwall but had failed to follow through on that, as well.
As a spinster, Alice often wondered where her life would lead her. She was interested in various topics, was deft with a needle and thread, an
d enjoyed weaving. Several years earlier, she had made her first hat, the style of it including a wide brim with lovely ribbons. Where many of the milliners of her time used real flowers to adorn their hats, Alice chose to create flowers from bits of cloth and ribbon. In doing so, her creations could be worn for a longer period of time without the fear of the flowers wilting or the fruit rotting. She had received various compliments, but when it was discovered she had been the creator of such art, the compliments stopped. Apparently, it was unbecoming of a woman of means to create and sew her own hats. Needlecraft on handkerchiefs and pillows were the extent of most titled women. The rest relied on seamstresses for their gowns and gloves and milliners for their hats. However, despite the down-turned noses, Alice continued to produce a new hat every few months and wore them proudly when she went out.
All this she had included in her letter to her friend Catherine with a promise that if they were to see each other again, the woman would be welcome to choose for herself any hat Alice had made. Whether or not the two would meet again was not known, but Alice truly did hope they would find themselves together in the same place again one day.
Mrs. Huntington’s voice came through the door once again. “Alice, there is someone here to see you.”
Alice crinkled her brows. “Someone to see me?” she asked in bewilderment. She could not remember the last time someone had come simply to see her.
“Come downstairs now,” her mother repeated. “We will be in the drawing room.”
Alice sighed, grabbed a light wrap as the weather had been cloudy and a bit chilly for autumn, and did as her mother bid. Once she walked into the drawing room, however, she stopped and stared. For sitting on one of the sofas was Lord Blackmoore. Had the man been serious the last time she saw him about stopping in and visiting with her? The thought was ridiculous.
“Ah, there you are, Alice,” Mr. Huntington called in an overly-sweet voice that set Alice’s nerves on edge. “You remember Lord Blackmoore?”
“But of course,” Alice replied as she stared at the vile man. She gave a curtsy. “My Lord.” She did little to keep the mockery from her voice.
“Sit, Alice,” her mother hissed as she lowered herself onto the empty sofa.
Alice did as her mother bade, but with a reluctance she tried to hide. She would not give the man the benefit of seeing he had upset her. “Lord Blackmoore, what is it you want?” Alice asked bluntly. She was in no mood for dilly-dallying around.
“Alice!” Mrs. Huntington gasped. “I am sorry, My Lord. She is not typically this rude.”
Alice laughed. “I only wish to know why a man who has never even deigned to speak to me has suddenly found an interest in coming to visit me.” Of course, she did not mention that they had spoken in the stables, and she prayed silently that he also kept that information to himself.
Lord Blackmoore laughed. “I like your honest and forwardness,” he said, though Alice heard the lie behind the words. “The truth is I came to speak to your father concerning a business agreement we made and I asked if I could see you.”
“Why?” Alice asked without hesitation.
“That is quite enough, Alice,” her father snapped. “If Lord Blackmoore wishes to spend time with you, you will allow him to do so.” Alice recognized her father’s tone and knew it would be in her best interest to do his bidding.
“Very well,” Alice said with a sigh. “What is it you would like to discuss?”
The Earl rose. “If your parents approve, I would like to spend some time with you, to get to know you. When I saw you the night of the summer party, I have to admit that I found myself…interested in you. I imagine you have many subjects of interest? Well, I too, am quite knowledgeable in many areas.”
Alice snorted and then pretended to cough to cover it up. Both her parents glared at her, but the Earl made no indication of hearing her sign of disdain. “I see. Well, my schedule is quite busy at the moment, but I imagine that I can set aside some time after tea the Friday next.”
“I believe now would be a wonderful time for you two to spend together,” Mr. Huntington said. “I myself must see to several contracts that must go out by tomorrow, but Mrs. Huntington would be happy to work on some quiet work while the two of you sit together.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Mrs. Huntington said, unable to contain her excitement. “I have been meaning to finish a pattern on a pillowcase, and there is no time like the present. I will have Esther bring us some tea and cakes if you’d like.”
Alice could do nothing more than stare at her parents. She had seen them try all sorts of means to have her spend time with possible suitors, but them wanting her to spend time with one such as Lord Blackmoore had to be a way to teach her a lesson. Her mind raced as she considered every excuse to leave, but the firm glares she received from her parents told Alice that nothing could keep her from this visit.
“Oh, very well,” she sighed, to which her mother came close to jumping up and down with happiness.
“Wonderful,” Mr. Huntington added to his wife’s excitement.
Lord Blackmoore rose when Mrs. Huntington stood and waited until she sat once again in a chair beside the window where her sewing basket sat.
Mr. Huntington shook the Earl’s hand. “I expect a full report,” —he chuckled— “that is, about our contract, before you leave.”
“Yes, I am sure we will come to an agreement by that time,” Lord Blackmoore said.
Alice found their short conversation somewhat cryptic and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. However, she had little time to contemplate the meaning of their words before Lord Blackmoore was once again seated across from her.
“So, Miss Huntington,” he said, “what subjects interest you?”
Alice stared at the man. What subjects, indeed? However, when her mother clicked her tongue, Alice knew she was to answer. “I am quite interested in reading,” she replied.
“Is that so?” Lord Blackmoore replied. “I imagine a love story or something of that sort is among your favorites.”
“Actually, I have read A Vindication of the Rights of Women by Mary Wollstonecraft more than a dozen times and find it enlightening.” In all honesty, she had attempted to read the book but found it a bit dry, even if she agreed with the topic it presented, but that topic was what she hoped would shock him into retreating from the wretched conversation.
However, Alice was disappointed when the only indication the title surprised him was the tiniest rise of an eyebrow. “I see,” he said. “And what of poetry? I understand that most women enjoy a good prose.”
Alice tilted her head at him. “Oh, yes,” she replied. “I especially enjoy reading Amelia Opie quite a bit.” This was an honest response, for she found the woman’s works touched her heart.
Unfortunately, Lord Blackmoore did not seem to share her interest, for she recognized the sneer he held on his lips, though he tried to cover it up. It was then that she realized that their time together had to be a way for him to learn information about what she liked and dislike so he could mock her at a later time. Why else would he be there asking these questions? She certainly was not his typical prey.
Alice had had enough. She stretched and stifled a yawn. “I believe I will return to my room and rest,” she said as she stood, forcing the Earl to struggle to uncross his leg and stand. “Thank you for your visit, My Lord.” She almost added that she hoped to see him again soon. However, remembering how he had turned her words on her the time before, she decided it would be best not to offer.
“Now, Alice,” Mrs. Huntington called out from her seat by the window. “you have barely given Lord Blackmoore a moment of your time. Why not wait for a while longer before returning to your room?”
“No, I must be on my way,” Lord Blackmoore said before turning to Alice and bowing. “It has been a pleasure, Miss Huntington. May I come by tomorrow?”
Alice’s jaw dropped and she had to force it closed. “Tomorrow would be…”
“A wonderful day,” Mrs. Huntington said to finish Alice’s sentence. “Will it not, Alice?”
Upon seeing her mother’s narrowed eyes, Alice knew she could not refuse. “Very well, tomorrow would be fine. Until then.” With that she left the room, forcing herself to walk rather than run back up the stairs to her room.
Confusion coursed through her as she flung herself on her bed. She would have to try harder to get the rogue to cease his sudden interest in her. But how?
***
The following day when Lord Blackmoore came to visit, Alice was better prepared. She had a list of topics written on a slip of paper, which she handed to the man when they sat down together in the drawing room, much to her mother’s annoyance.
Lord Blackmoore, however, looked at the paper with amusement. “‘The best-written poems of Amelia Opie’,” he read aloud, to which Mrs. Huntington clicked her tongue. “‘The process used in making millinery’.” He chuckled and looked up. “Millinery? Are you a hat aficionado?”
Alice pushed her chin forward. “I happen to be quite adept at creating bonnets as well as bergeres, which are quite popular for summer activities,” she stated firmly. “I have made most of the hats I currently own as well as those of my mother and sister.”
Lord Blackmoore raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Is that so?” he asked, though his tone did not hold a hint of mocking, which only confused Alice, for she expected nothing but mocking from the man.
“She is a capable woman in many areas,” Mrs. Huntington chimed in. “Her skills cover a wide variety of areas.”
The Spinsters Secret Page 5