An Inconvenient Engagement

by Grace Colline

  “Sir, you may entrust it to my care.”

  “Oh…thank you, Haddley.”

  “Of course.”

  “I must go to Rivers and then ride out to Luckett’s farm. Miss Lockley has taken her brother in hand and is showing him around. I will check back with you later…?” He ended on a question, unsure of best procedure.

  The corner of her mouth quirked, and she said, “Excellent.”

  Some hours later, he returned in time to see Maria and Teddy riding off on his mare and the dapple gray and felt a little put out that he had not been invited. But then, he thought, perhaps she was just continuing the tour. He dismounted and handed the reins over to the groom before climbing the stairs of his home. Warm air buffeted him as the doors were opened, and he stepped inside. His coat, gloves, and hat were taken, and Haddely stood waiting.

  “Sir, I have the initial guest list for your approval.” William took the quarto sheet from her and ran down the list of names, then frowned. “I don’t see Miss Denham or Miss Pratt on here.”

  “That can be rectified, certainly. I had merely thought to restrict the guest list so as not to overcrowd the ballroom.”

  “Well, two more young ladies should not overpower us, I think.”

  “I agree, Sir.” She added the two names. “I attempted to consult with Miss Lockley about the menu, but she was much engaged with her brother. I spoke with Cook, and we have made some tentative notes for you to look over.”

  He did so but was no less informed. “Haddley, I will just have to trust your judgement.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Will you have time to pen the invitations?”

  “I will manage to find time to do so.”

  William felt a pang of pity for Haddley. This was extra work, and Maria seemed unconcerned that she was burdening his housekeeper. “Again, thank you, Haddley.”

  She nodded and retired to her office to continue addressing and writing the invitations.

  It was later the next day when Eliza fingered her invitation, tracing the elegant lettering of his name over and over. Part of her was grateful to be invited, but another part of her was crying at the thought of being forced to watch him dance with the woman who would share his life. It was unreasonable to have hoped, but even so, the death of hope was a bitter thing. Her steps dragged as she carried the gilt-edged card upstairs to her room. She set it down on her dressing table, went to the wardrobe, and pulled a dress out to lay on the bed.

  It was nearly finished, just some final hemming, a little more embroidery with the silver thread. She was proud of it. The silk gauze overdress shimmered in the dying sunlight. She would look well that night. Only a few more days to get the finishing touches on the dress and figure out something for her hair.

  At least, she thought, it would be the last time she had to face him. Another letter had arrived confirming her appointment and subsequent journey to take up her new post as governess to the Beasley family in south Yorkshire. Two days after the Tredwell ball, she would leave Lytchley for a new life.

  There was a knock at the door, and she heard Bessie answer it, then heavy steps coming up the stairs. “If you please, Miss, there is a message from Miss Darrow and the boy is waiting for an answer.”

  She opened the door to take the message from Bessie, her eyes pouring over the words hurriedly.

  Dear Miss Eliza,

  Please forgive the informality, but Penelope and I are planning to drive to Tredwell Abbey so that we may call on Miss Lockley. We are hoping that you will join us as we three represent the ladies of Lytchley and as such is our duty!

  Cordially,

  Henrietta Darrow

  “Oh, Bessie…I suppose I must, mustn’t I?”

  “Yes, Miss.” She smiled. “Luckily your favorite dress is clean, and I can press it in time.”

  “Thank you, dear Bessie. Alright, send word that I will join them.”

  She sat down to arrange her hair and style it as best she could. Luckily, she had washed it only the day before. The clean strands tangled on the brush as she gently coaxed them free. Two braids brought to an updo and tendrils cascading down onto the nape of her neck. Bessie had brought her gown in and laid it on the bed, then stayed to help lace up her corset. Her aunt’s necklace and earrings and her pelisse completed her ensemble. Then, she had only to sit downstairs and wait for Miss Darrow’s carriage.

  What if he was there? She had not seen him since their midnight kiss, and even now her heart pounded at the thought of possibly seeing him. How to face the woman who would take him forever from her...but no. He was never hers to start with. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat to listen for the approach of wheels.

  It arrived, not the gig this time, but the barouche landau with the top up to protect the ladies’ coiffures. The footman handed her in and Henrietta and Penelope both smiled.

  “So glad you could join us! We shall make quite the merry party, shan’t we?”

  “Have you met Miss Lockley before?” Eliza asked.

  “Once, in town. But very briefly. Penelope?”

  Penelope shook her head, “But I am excited to have another young lady in the village.” Eliza was struck again at how sweet and warm-hearted the girl was.

  Henrietta pursed her lips. “Hmm. My brief introduction to Miss Lockley does not bode well for that lovely thought, Pen.”

  The carriage pulled to a stop before the impressive entrance to Tredwell Abbey. The girls alighted and advanced up the stairs. Henrietta, having precedence, reached the door first and presented her card. The butler glanced at it and intoned, “I will see if Miss Lockley is receiving.” They were shown into the front parlor where they each selected a seat and waited. Some minutes passed when voices could be heard in the hall outside. Two men were passing the entrance to the parlor and paused when they caught sight of the visitors.

  It was Sir William and another gentleman, both returning from shooting. Sir William looked comfortably attired in and older shooting jacket and worn breeches. He obviously took a gun out often while the other man had new, rather inappropriate looking clothes and did not seem comfortable with his gun. A servant appeared and took their weapons and Sir William stepped into the parlor. He looked very engaging with his hair somewhat disheveled, one lock falling over his forehead.

  “Welcome, ladies. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He included them all in his gaze, though it lingered longest with Eliza.

  Just then, Maria swept down the stairs and into the parlor. “Darling Teddy, Sir William, did you kill many birds?”

  “Three brace,” Teddy offered, but the glance Sir William shot at him made Eliza think it was not due to any help from him.

  William’s expression altered with the appearance of Maria, and he seemed suddenly stiff. “Excuse me ladies, Miss Lockley.” He excused himself.

  Maria clapped her hands together. “Well, ladies! Quite the little to-do! Do let me see if I have gotten these introductions right,” she glanced at the card given her by the butler. “Miss Henrietta Darrow.” Henrietta curtseyed, remarking to herself that their previous introduction had been forgotten.

  Maria acknowledged her equal, then said, “Miss Penelope Pratt.” Penelope curtseyed as well but was regarded little. “And Miss Eliza Denham, but we have already met.” She did not waste a glance at Eliza but rather sat down and began to pour the tea from the tray a servant had just set down beside her.

  Maria spoke mainly to Henrietta, seeking out common acquaintances, asking about balls and entertainments and generally leaving it in no doubt that of the three girls, only one was truly her equal. Penelope sipped her tea and flashed her eyes at Eliza who covered her own smile by raising her cup to her lips. Eliza could not help but look around her, heart going back to two nights before, every nerve tingling in anticipation of his reappearance. He did not, however, and soon Maria rose and said, “My dears, I am so sorry, but I must cut our visit short as my dear Sir William has planned almost every moment of my stay.�
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  “We understand,” said Henrietta, rising.

  “I look forward to seeing you all at our little ball in a few days.” She smiled most graciously and turned away before the barouche had even pulled off.

  Henrietta let out a long breath. “Ladies, our duty is done. I hope, Penelope, you no longer harbor any ideas of felicitous company of the future Lady Strathom.”

  “No, Hen, I think she has well and truly dashed such thoughts for me.” Then she giggled. “Lord, what a pigeon!”

  Henrietta burst out laughing. “What did you call her?”

  “A pigeon!” Eliza repeated and joined in the laughter.

  “Well, the way she sat there with her chest all puffed up.” The girls laughed louder, “I mean like a …oh never mind!” she gave up and joined them in laughter.

  “I must beg you not to include me in any future visits!” Eliza sighed. “Unless you are intent upon annoying her to distraction. I know she dislikes me intensely.” And I, her, she added to herself.

  “She did seem determined to be beastly, and what did she mean when she said you had met?”

  Eliza quickly told them of their meeting at Elspeth Thornton’s, and Henrietta nodded. “That would explain it. She dislikes estate responsibilities, and here is a young lady of ‘lesser breeding’ doing exactly what she should be doing herself. No wonder she wished you elsewhere. You are an excellent model of what she knows she should be.”

  “Henrietta – I think you exaggerate.”

  The barouche pulled up in front of Little Cottage, and Henrietta looked at her. “No, I think not. I think I understand Miss Maria Lockley rather well, and you are worth ten of her.” She smiled and waited until Eliza was on her threshold before giving the signal to drive on.

  Three days later brought another note from Henrietta: Please accept a seat in our carriage to Tredwell Abbey this evening.

  The boy waited. “My mistress hoped there would be a response.”

  Eliza smiled. “Please thank her and tell her I accept.” From then, the day passed in a blur. Nerves kept her from eating, or napping, and she was afraid she would look haggard before the evening came. Bessie insisted on doing her hair for her, and Eliza was shocked at the transformation. Curls piled up and confined to a ring of ribbon then allowed to cascade down in perfect ringlets. It made her look delicate below the mass of curls, and her eyes appeared large below the fringe covering her forehead. Her newly finished dress on over a bodiced petticoat and fastened up the back. Then, just as she was about to fasten her aunt’s necklace about her neck, Uncle arrived with a little box. He said nothing, only placed the little box on her dressing table, bent to kiss her on the top of her head, and left.

  Her fingers were shaking as she untied the string and opened the box. There, nestled inside, was a gold filigree cross with a perfect pearl set in the center. The bail on the cross looked fit to slide over a necklace such as her aunt’s, and she did so, marveling at how it changed the nature of the simple pearl and peridot necklace into something more elegant by the addition of the little cross. When she was finished, she slipped on her best evening slippers and looked at herself in the mirror.

  Her hair stood out in a cascading mass about her head, her dress was a slip of gauzy silk embroidered with silver thread floating down over the plain underdress of white silk. A green sash picked up the green peridot beads interspersed in her necklace, and the filigree of the cross sparkled with the tiny, embroidered stars all over the bodice and sleeves and reaching down to the hem of the skirt. She felt a sudden thrill, and wondered, again, how the baronet would like her. Duty made to push the thought aside, but she clung to it instead. Why not? It would be her last night to dream….

  He stood in the gallery, the closest he could get to Eliza. Tonight,he would see her here, perhaps in this very room. His heart hammered at just the thought that he would be near her again. By rights, he should have found a way to make her stay away, but he could not bring himself to do so. One more night, perchance to dream. He turned as Hackett appeared at his side.

  “Sir, Mr. Lockley is ill.”

  “What do you mean Teddy is ill? Do we need to call Dr. Welles?”

  “No Sir, he said he would just lie down and may join us later.”

  “Alright,” he said irritably. Two guests ill, and a house about to be pushed to capacity by a ball. Not to mention the impending arrival of Eliza Denham distracting him. His own head was beginning to ache as well as his heart. He stirred to action and headed downstairs to welcome guests.

  Henrietta’s carriage called precisely at seven, and Eliza stepped out carefully and joined the girls and Henrietta’s mother, who refused to look at her. Penelope looked almost ethereal – her willowy form in palest pink, white, and gold. Henrietta was all in royal blue with gold and blue overdress. Her eyes stood out like sapphires, and the gold and sapphire necklace she wore paled in comparison. All three were abuzz with mutual admiration and excitement, though Eliza had to fight down the knot in her stomach.

  The carriage pulled into the yard which was alight with torches. They waited in turn as one by one the carriages ahead of them discharged their occupants. When it was their turn, Lady Loughton exited first, followed by Henrietta, Penelope, and finally, Eliza. Music was streaming down the stairs from the ball room, and there was a buzz of voices mingling all around. She sought Sir William out and found him at the top of the short stairs with his fiancée at his side. She waited her turn, trying to hide behind Penelope and finding herself brought forward by the others repeatedly. She could feel his gaze seeking her out and fought the urge to meet his eyes.

  Suddenly her hands were in his, a quick squeeze, and she looked up.

  “Miss Denham, you look quite remarkably well.” She was shaking, though few besides himself would notice.

  “Thank you, Sir.” He was pale, she could see looking up from under her lashes, and there were circles under his eyes.

  “I hope to have the honor of dancing with you this evening.” She blushed at that, and her lips reddened.

  “I as well.” His face softened, and her heart melted.

  How could she let him go to another woman?

  Then her hands were all but ripped from his, and she was pulled along. “Miss Denham, how lovely!” Maria passed her by with scarcely a nod. She was past them both and inside. Henrietta and Penelope were on either side, as though protecting her from Henrietta’s mother.

  Though not so large as the Loughton’s ball room, the Tredwell room had a medieval grace lacking from the newer estate. The music was good, the supper table kept the chaperones happy, and there seemed to be just enough beaus to keep the young ladies dancing. Eliza found herself applied to and just managed to avoid Mr. Waddell’s stiff addresses as the young man led her out onto the floor.

  Her partner was one of the Colting boys, a large family, and she had already forgotten which one she now danced with. He was just as unsure as she, and both of them kept looking to their neighbors to remind them of the moves. He faltered, and said, “Oh I say, I am sorry!,” but she had already followed. They stepped awry from the rest of the group. Eliza bit her lip and looked at him, then they laughed together uncomfortably. As she looked up, she found Sir William’s eyes on her, scowling.

  Fearing his approbation for her misstep, she glanced away and tried to smile instead. She and her partner had caught onto the dance by then, and there were no more mishaps. They managed to finish their two dances creditably well, and both heaved a sigh of relief when it was over. Colting had barely released her at the end of their dance when she found herself accosted by Sir William.

  “Miss Denham, may I have the next?”

  Her mouth opened as she tried to find a way to refuse, but there he was, dark hazel eyes boring into hers and her heart hammered in response. “Of course,” was all she could say.

  He hesitated. They both started to speak at once. The orchestra struck the introduction and, he led her out onto the floor. She knew Penelope and H
enrietta both made part of the line, but she did not see them. She saw nothing but him, splendid in black suit and navy blue waistcoat. There were small silver stripes in it, and the silver embroidery in her dress sparkled in response.

  He felt a surge of pride to have this girl on his arm, knew her own hands had made the glittering gown though no one would guess it had not been the work of a professional mantua maker. She danced well, if a little uncertainly, something that would go away with time. He remembered their kisses and knew she did as well for their cheeks flamed in tandem.

  Miss Lockley was observing them and knew very well the look on Eliza’s face. “Well, well, well! The little Cinder girl is in love with my beau!” she whispered to herself. Then, she laughed aloud, to the astonishment of those around her.

  Her laughter caught the attention of William, who looked sharply at her and read the derision on Maria’s face. His expression went grim, his body tense, and the spell between he and Eliza was broken. She felt it, saw it, and saw Maria Lockley’s haughty eyes upon her. Shame made her suddenly vulnerable and exposed, and she knew that Maria had divined her secret.

  Pushing away from him, she made her way through the crowd and across the landing to the other wing, to the gallery. Here, the sounds of music and voices were muted, and the few candles that were lit dusted the room in a light glow. She wandered, then tested one of the windows and found it unlocked. She slipped out onto the little terrace and breathed in the fresh air. It was icy cold but bracing and stung her to awareness. She fought the tears that would not come. Dry sobs broke from her.

  He followed her, knowing instinctively where she had gone. So certain was he that when he entered the gallery, he was shocked not to see her there. Then a curtain moved, and he realized the window was slightly ajar. He heard her stifled sobs before he opened the window.

  She turned to look up at him as he stepped out. She was hugging herself for warmth in the cold air, and he instantly drew her to him. She struggled but could not stop his warm arms coming up around her.