by Abby Ayles
No, it was not the prospect of the duties or of seeing his siblings that concerned him.
It was more Father and his temperament, and the matter of a wife.
John had been in no hurry to wed. He was not a woman, her bloom of youth there and gone in one season. He could afford to bide his time.
Or so he had thought. Apparently, according to his father, time was something he did not have.
And yes, he might have flirted around a bit. But how could he help it when many women he’d met were so vapid?
He wanted a sensible wife, someone quiet and thoughtful, someone he could debate with. His father was right, he wanted someone to read with, to discuss things with, to go on walks with.
Many women just seemed far more interested in dresses and gossip and the like. He couldn’t stand that.
However, many women were also beautiful and good at flirting while at balls.
So why not flirt back? Why not indulge himself? And if sometimes he indulged himself a little too much, well, what of it?
Except that now he was out of time and needed to compress what would usually be months of courtship and selection into one month.
John raked a hand through his hair in frustration. How was he to find someone in so short of a time?
Then his eye fell upon the second letter he had received that morning.
It was from Lord and Lady Morrison, who had long been acquaintances of his family. It was an invitation, done up in gold leaf, to their masquerade ball. Their masquerade ball was held annually and was considered by many to be the party of the year.
If anyone would know of possible ladies for him, it would be the Morrisons. They knew everyone that there was to know. Indeed, they often knew things about people that they shouldn’t.
He would find a wife at the masquerade ball, if not before. He would write to Father to let him know that he had received his letter.
Then he would write to Lord Morrison and ask him and his wife to please reply with a list of eligible young ladies who would serve him well as the mistress of Mountbank.
He could call upon these ladies in between now and the ball—but if nothing else, he did have the ball. Surely in the swirl of people he could find someone of good breeding who was to his tastes.
John’s hands ceased trembling. This was nothing that he could not overcome. All he needed was to find a woman pleasing to the eye, with a good family name, who could stir in him the beginnings of fondness.
He did not even ask for love, at least not at first. Just a nature that he found agreeable.
And how hard could it be, really, to find a wife for an earl?
Chapter 3
The answer to that question was: very hard.
John would have thought that his family name alone would grant him the favors of any unmarried lady.
He had not been wrong in this, at least not entirely. Various women were ready and willing to be wooed by him. However, some of their fathers had heard of his exploits in the Continent and were less inclined.
Furthermore, those who were so inclined had daughters who annoyed him to no end. Not one of them had beauty to justify their lack of brains. Those who did have brains turned them to cattiness rather than true wit and learning.
John despaired. Where was the grace, the poise, the accomplishments? What had happened to young women while he’d been gone from England?
Perhaps he was an old fogey, as Emma had sometimes liked to tease him. But was it really too much to ask that he wish for a wife who was sensible, capable of running a household, and enjoyed reading and his company? He wanted a woman of substance, not some ornament he could show off at parties. He wanted a proper life partner.
Lord Morrison, when John wrote him of his despair, was sympathetic.
My dear friend, I can well understand your frustrations. I would advise you to perhaps turn your attentions to the Hartfield family.
There are five daughters among them. One is spoken for, although propriety forbids me from saying to whom, but the other four are quite unattached.
The eldest, Bridget, is as sensible and controlled a young lady as you will ever meet. She is one of the few one can label as truly accomplished.
However, while Bridget is said to be the brightest star of them all the other three are quite lovely.
The second youngest has the wit you seek, Miss Elizabeth. Some find her a little too liberal with her words but I dare say you’ll find her a fair match for yourself.
The very youngest, Miss Regina, loves reading and solitude. She could do to learn to stand up for herself. She is of a stronger temperament than she gives herself credit for. But I think that only commends her.
The third, Natalie, you might find to your tastes. She is quick-witted and intelligent. She has captured the attention of many a man. And she is widely regarded to be the most beautiful.
I believe that their family is scattered at the moment. However, as you are attending our masquerade ball, I can be sure to make the necessary introductions.
One of them will surely be to your liking. Both my wife and I have known the family for many years and care greatly for all of them.
The letter then continued on into other matters.
John focused in on the part about the Hartfield family. Five of them, and only one spoken for? How odd. Surely if they were as lovely as Lord Morrison claimed, they would have all been engaged by this point?
Upon looking up the family in the registry, however, he could guess why. The two youngest were hardly out of their first season and the eldest, he supposed, had been preoccupied the last few years. The registry listed the mother as deceased some time ago, when they were all young.
As one who had also lost a parent at a young age, he could easily imagine that Miss Hartfield had to step in and focus more on mothering than on flirtations.
Still, four of them? One of them had to be good enough. And it almost didn’t matter at this point. He had to choose someone and propose by the night of the ball if he was to travel to his father’s house in time to meet the demands.
The masquerade ball would undoubtedly last for hours. That should give him enough time to converse and dance with the women in question. The one who was the most appealing, or least distasteful, he’d have to choose.
It might turn out to be that all his hopes rested on one of the Hartfield ladies.
Chapter 4
Natalie stood patiently as Bridget laced her up from behind.
“Are you excited?” Bridget asked.
“For the ball?” Natalie replied.
“No,” Bridget said. “To see our sisters again.”
“Oh.” In truth, Natalie hadn’t given too much thought to her sisters.
She had genuinely wished Louisa the best of luck with Mr. Fairchild. Her poor sister was a sweet soul and having to wait for a woman to die so that she might marry was an awful position.
Natalie did not much like Mr. Fairchild’s aunt. But then, nobody did. She was determined that her nephew secure his family’s future by marrying a daughter of a lord or some such.
If she found out that Mr. Fairchild had proposed to Louisa, it would all be over. He would be disowned. And so, they continued on in secret.
Fortunately, his aunt was rather ill and Natalie had hopes it would not be too much longer. But still. It was rather an awful thought, that your happiness depended upon someone else dying.
As for Elizabeth—well, Natalie had really only thought of her in a horrible way. That is, when she hoped that Elizabeth was ruining her chance with Mr. Denny.
It was selfish, she knew, but she’d been essentially turned away by every potential suitor. They had all visited, full of gaiety. And then, after an hour or so, they had hastily taken their leave.
It was enough to make a lady doubt herself.
Natalie did not want to be the only sister without a husband. Bridget would choose someone that night, and that man would certainly propose the moment Bridget gave him a sign she’
d say yes. It was how Bridget was.
Louisa was already spoken for. Regina wasn’t but it hardly mattered, she was the youngest and essentially a child.
If Elizabeth was spoken for as well, that would only leave Natalie.
The shame of it, the very idea of it, made her cheeks burn.
“I must confess I’ve been worried about Regina,” Bridget said. “She writes me often but I suspect that there is something she is not telling me.”
“Regina, keeping a secret?” The idea was absurd. It meant that Regina had an exciting enough life that she needed to keep part of it secret. “I can’t imagine it.”
“I can tell when my sisters aren’t telling me everything,” Bridget replied. “Just as I know that you are holding back on me as well.”
Natalie could feel Bridget’s eyes boring into her from the mirror, but she turned away. “I’m only worried for Louisa, is all.”
“You’ve never been worried about anyone else in your life,” Bridget said. “You’re worried for yourself.”
Natalie picked up a ribbon and began to work it through her hair. “Why should I be worried for myself?”
“It’s the night of the ball and you have yet to have even one proposal. You’ve yet to come close.”
Natalie turned around, still fiddling with the ribbon just to give herself something to do.
“I’m sure I shall have a suitor soon.” Natalie hoped that her voice was more confident than she felt.
Bridget raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Watch me charm every man in that ballroom,” Natalie said. She truly felt confident. She had always been able to work a room.
“And then they shall call upon you and leave, as have all those who came before them,” Bridget responded. “You must mend your ways, Natalie, or you shall soon be too old to marry.”
Shame, hot and awful, curled in the pit of her stomach. It made her feel sick.
“And what about yourself?” she replied. She knew that it was shameful, but she could not help herself. She wanted to fling it all back in Bridget’s face like hot candlewax.
“You are the eldest. By all accounts you should be married. You are not without men who want you. We all know that. And yet you won’t take a husband.”
Bridget went a little pale but stood resolute. “I’ve been running a household and managing four sisters,” she said. “I would like to see you do that and find a husband at the same time.”
“It’s selfish,” Natalie said. “You say that all I do is think of myself. But you do the same thing! If you were thinking of us you would have gotten married long ago and gotten out of our way. How can any of us compete against you?”
“You are the one considered beautiful,” Bridget replied. “Since we’re discussing the opinions of the public.
“It would have been selfish for me to get married, Natalie. I would have left you all to a governess. And while I did not at all mind hiring one to teach us all the pianoforte and such, they cannot replace a mother’s touch.”
Bridget was still pale but now drew herself up, her eyes flashing. She seemed taller and darker almost, and Natalie felt a little quiver of fear in her chest. Bridget looked nothing short of furious.
“I ran the household and balanced the accounts. I struggled to hold Father back and contain him. I raised Regina as her mother. I hired and fired servants. I planned parties and holidays.
“I ensured that proper tutors were found for all of us so that we might be accomplished. Your painting lessons. The pianoforte that we all learned. Elizabeth’s dancing lessons. All of it, I organized.
“You speak as though I have been sitting about all my life doing nothing. Did it not occur to you that perhaps I had a love? That I loved and was loved? And that I might have had to give it all up so that you might all be raised properly? So that the house would not sink into decay?
“Father’s mistake is costing us all. But he would have forced all of you to do what you are doing now much sooner. Years sooner. If I had not been there holding back the tide.
“So do as you please, Natalie. Be as silly as you please. But do not ever accuse me of selfishness. Not when you have no idea what I’ve given up of myself for all of you.”
Natalie opened her mouth to speak but found that she had no words.
“You could have still taken care of us,” she said at last, meekly.
“No husband would let his wife be away from home tending her father and sisters,” Bridget replied. “Who would run his house for him?”
Natalie had to concede to that.
When a woman married, her job became running the household. Hopefully if the husband’s mother was alive and running his estate, she could teach her new daughter-in-law how things were done.
But what man would tolerate having to continue running his own home while his wife was still at her father’s? What man would go to live at the house of a father-in-law when he had an estate of his own?
And what man would be satisfied with no children while his wife raised her youngest sister and half-raised the other three?
No, Natalie could well understand why Bridget had to wait. She wondered what sweetheart Bridget might have had and lost.
“I’m sorry,” she said. She did feel sorry, which was unusual. Mostly it felt as though people wanted her to be sorry for no reason other than simply speaking the truth or something of that nature.
Bridget sighed. “I do not tell you all this to make you feel sorry for me. I tell you this so that you might think to look beyond yourself and what you want. You need to look at what other people need and want as well.
“Otherwise, they will notice. People always do. And relationships are supposed to be a give and take. If you don’t pay attention to others, then eventually nobody will want to pay attention to you.”
Natalie nodded. She would have to do better. She understood.
Bridget seemed to sense her contrite mood, for she switched tactics. “You will have to find someone tonight. I have to speak to Louisa and Elizabeth to see how they fare. And of course, I will be choosing someone myself.
“That only leaves you to find someone. There are dozens of men here that we have yet to speak with. I will try and see if any of them are in need of a swift arrangement.”
“I feel as though I’m being sold off like cattle.”
“Good, I hope you do,” Bridget said, showing a little impatience. “It will serve you right to feel that way. You’ve had a month, Natalie. One would think that would be enough time. And yet.”
“You wouldn’t ever speak to Regina like this,” Natalie pointed out. “And I don’t see you making her marry.”
“The youngest sister getting married before her elder sisters? It would cause gossip,” Bridget replied. “Either people will say we are undesirable or they will say that Regina was in the family way.”
“You wouldn’t force her even if she was the middle child,” Natalie said. “She’s always been your favorite.”
“Regina would do what she knew was necessary to save the family,” Bridget replied. “I know that you think little of her. And she could do with a boost in confidence. But she cares for others and she thinks of something other than parties and idle gossip.”
“You make me sound vapid and shallow!” Natalie protested.
“I should hope so,” Bridget replied, her tone sharp.
Bridget’s tone rarely became sharp. The last month must have been a trial for her.
Natalie hadn’t seen Bridget actively choosing between any suitors. While Natalie had been receiving men every few days, Bridget had yet to receive one.
However, Natalie had seen her sister often writing letters. Or, alternatively, writing a letter and then asking Father to copy the letter in his own writing.
Writing a letter to a man, as a woman, was something that was not done. Natalie could therefore only assume that Bridget was having Father extend an invitation of some kind to suitors, starting up a correspondence.
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br /> Then, through Father, Bridget could get to know her suitors and decide which one to choose.
This was all speculation. Natalie didn’t know for certain. But given her sister’s current state, she didn’t really feel as though she would do any good by asking.
Choosing a suitor must have been hard for Bridget. But that didn’t give her the right to talk to Natalie like that.
“I’ve been doing my best,” Natalie told her. “Surely you’ve seen that.”
“I’ve seen you drive away your chance at salvation again and again,” Bridget said.
“If you and Elizabeth and Louisa are getting married, why should I have to?” Natalie pointed out.
“Louisa will only maintain her engagement if Mr. Fairchild agrees to stand by her. She still cannot marry while his aunt is alive. Only two of us married is not enough.”
Bridget sighed and sank into a chair, looking exhausted. “Natalie. I want to guarantee your safety, that is all. If you were a man I should urge you into the Navy. You could earn honor and fortune there and perhaps someday buy our estate back from Lord Pettifer.
“But you are not a man. And so it is only marriage that can secure your future. You treat this as a game or something you can afford to laugh off. This is your future we are talking about.
“I can’t protect you. I would try, of course. But I can’t. And once the truth is known of how Father lost our estate, nobody will want to marry you. Not for a long time. Not, perhaps, for the rest of your life.
“And so if you are to avoid being an old maid you must do it now.”
Bridget looked up at her, and for a moment she looked much older. As though she were already middle-aged.
“This is the only way that I can take care of you, Natalie. Any of you.”
Natalie nodded. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful. She knew that Bridget was only thinking of their best interests.
She just didn’t appreciate also being viewed as selfish.
Bridget stood up with a sigh. “Come now. Our sisters will be here in a moment and we must be ready to greet them.”