An Inconvenient Engagement

by Grace Colline

  “Let me go,” she whispered hoarsely.

  “Not until you tell me what ails you.”

  “You know quite well.”

  “And if I told you it ails me as well?”

  She was silent for a long moment. “And so?” She lifted her face to his.

  “I cannot fight this any longer.” They studied each other, he bent to kiss her and she did not resist. His lips burned against hers and he was anything but gentle. Hunger and desire spread through her at the hard touch of his arms against her and her hands spread over his shoulders as she held herself against him.

  Suddenly she broke free saying, “No…what does this mean?”

  “I must have you,” he said.

  “You are engaged,” she said, eyes glittering with fevered tears.

  He brushed that away with a shake of his head. “What of that? We must and will be together.”

  She went still at that. Her mind, confused by circumstances, pride injured by his fiancée and overwhelmed by his nearness, put his statement together with her certainty that he could never marry her into a different connotation. Horror went through her and she pushed back with such force that she broke from him. Without thinking, her hand came up and connected soundly with the side of his face. She pushed past him and ran off through the gallery.

  As he was about to pursue her, George stepped into the gallery, and she ran past. “Scaring off the ladies, are we?” he said as William appeared and made to pursue Eliza.

  “Excuse me, George, I have to…”

  George put out a hand and stopped him. “You have to stop. Just,” he forced him to look him in the eye and continued, “Stop. Listen to me.”

  William took a deep breath and rocked back, hands on his hips. George saw the reddening handprint on his brother’s cheek and laughed, “What did you say to her? Did you propose something unsavory?”

  “No! I was trying to tell her…oh never mind!” He made to move past his brother but was stopped once again.

  One hand on William’s chest, George said, “Just tell me what you said.”

  William repeated the conversation, and by the time he finished George was laughing. “You did – Oh...oh…Lord. I think I finally understand what you see in this girl! She...she…Ho!” He breathed deep to stop himself and face his brother. “She thought you were suggesting an informal, yet continuous relationship of sorts.”

  “What?”

  “She thought you were suggesting that she become your mistress.”

  William blanched, and the red mark stood out even more starkly. “How could she think that? I told her…that is I tried to tell her…I must go to her.”

  “No.”

  “George, I will have her. No more of your interference.”

  “Just a little more, I promise. I agree with you.”

  “I…what?” William turned a stunned face to his brother.

  The smile slid from George’s face and he said more gently, “I agree with you. You need to marry her. I have never seen you like this, and I think I rather like it. It is not the best connexion, but she does have some good lineage.”

  “She’s not a horse, George. So let me to her…”

  “Wait. Let her be a little while longer. You have something else to take care of right now. An engagement to put asunder.”

  “And you approve?”

  “Well, it isn’t as though I would have seen much of the twenty thousand pounds…”

  William almost smiled. “No. Pity she doesn’t marry you.”

  George shuddered. “A rather dear price, I think. Come on.” He clapped his brother on the back. “You have some unpleasantness to deal with.”

  “George – I need to make sure Eliza is well.”

  “I will find her – you go to Miss Lockley and get this over with. Wait a moment,” he peered intently at his face. “It has faded some, just rub the other cheek and tell everyone you are hot or something.”

  William looked at his brother for a moment, then gripped his arm and said, “Thank you, George.”

  “My honor,” he said and watched his brother go in pursuit of Maria Lockley.

  Chapter Nineteen

  William moved through the ballroom, barely remembering to greet guests and speak to them, intent as he was on completing his task. But he saw no sign of Miss Lockley. He was in the middle of looking over the ballroom for the third time when Haddley appeared. “Sir, Miss Lockley is gone.”

  “What do you mean, Miss Lockley is gone?” William had looked all over the ball room and asked as discreetly as possible but had not been able to find anyone who had seen Maria since midnight.

  Mrs. Haddely coughed, “I went to check on Mr. Lockley, and he was not in his room. I then went to find Miss Lockley and found only her maid. She is French, and though I questioned her, she apparently understands little English. Enough to indicate that her mistress had left. I sent word to Rivers, and he states that somehow, in the confusion about the stables, two horses appear to be missing.”

  He straightened, thinking, several facts finally falling into place in his brain. He bit his lip and nodded to Haddley, then strode off toward Mrs. Tunbridge’s room. Once there, he knocked and waited for the maid to answer before saying, “I need to speak with Mrs. Tunbridge.”

  From the recesses of the room, he heard her call, “Come in, Sir William, I am somewhat better this evening.”

  Sir William came right to the point, “Madam, could you describe Theodore Lockley?”

  She looked at him in astonishment and said, “Well, of course, but you could just call him and look at him yourself.”

  “Agreed, but if you would indulge me?”

  She belched discreetly. “Excuse me…not quite, quite if you understand. Let’s see…Teddy is about my height, darkish hair and gray eyes. A little embonpoint, if you understand my meaning.” And she pushed herself up and wagged a finger at him. “And I don’t care what Maria says, Teddy absolutely detests horses!”

  William could only stare. This was not the “Teddy” he had hosted for the past few days. “If I described a gentleman of almost my height, dark brown hair, dark eyes and lithely built who would that remind you of?”

  “Well, bless me if you haven’t described Harold Carleton. He was quite a hanger-on about Maria. We had feared at one point that they had formed an understanding, but luckily it came to nothing and it was all hushed up.” She broke off with a frightened look. “I mean, well it was nothing. And then, well, you, dear Sir William.” She smiled and added, “It was such a relief!”

  “I see.” And he did. Suddenly it all made sense how quickly he had been accepted. His proposal had been anticipated and apparently coincided with a scandal that had needed hushing up. No wonder her father had been more than happy to have William as a son-in-law. Harold Carleton was but the second son of an earl, with little income and no hope for a title. William had been used and deceived but none of that mattered now. “If you will excuse me. Haddely,” he motioned his housekeeper forward and added, “if you would explain.”

  Within minutes he was downstairs, but not before he heard the piercing wail coming from the Lilac Room.

  George found Eliza sitting in the empty carriage of the Loughtons. Without disturbing her, he sent word to Lady Loughton that the girl was unwell and that perhaps she could order her carriage to take her home. Lady Loughton reluctantly agreed. As he was coming in, William met him and quickly appraised him of the situation.

  “You have to stay here and go on as though all is well,” George told him. “It will be breaking up soon enough with the departure of the Loughtons and with Miss Lockley not in evidence. Let me take care of this.”

  For the second time that night, William thanked George.

  George found Rivers in the main carriage house diffusing an argument between drivers. He broke off when he saw George and came over. “I need to ride to Stanton. Can you ready me a horse?”

  “Aye – which one?”

  George thought for
a moment, then said, “That dapple gray, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  Rivers paused for a moment before calling a groom over. “Get the gray saddled!” He nodded to George and went out, obviously disgruntled with one of the grooms who was still trying to explain why he had saddled two horses and allowed them out without his, Rivers’, approval. The gray was brought, and George vaulted aloft. He was not nearly so at home on horseback as his brother, but well enough, he thought, for this task.

  William watched the Loughtons party leave and could barely restrain himself from following, though he knew George was right. Soon, news seemed to spread that Miss Lockley had retired for the evening and only a few determined couples were left dancing. He found himself pacing, until finally the house was emptied of guests and the servants could begin the task of cleaning up.

  It was early morning before George returned, exhausted. William was still awake, still dressed in his evening attire. “Well?” he asked as George collapsed into a chair.

  “I traced them as far as Stanton, where he must have had a private carriage waiting. I found the horses stabled there and had a hefty fee to pay to release them. Rivers is on his way to retrieve them. He will be furious at how hard they were ridden.”

  Mrs. Tunbridge had heard the commotion of George’s return and joined them. “Surely it is a misunderstanding…it must have been Teddy in disguise. She would not have done such a thing! Please, Sir William, do not despair.”

  Strange, but despair was truly the farthest thing from him at the moment. “I am bearing up, Mrs. Tunbridge. We must send word to her family. Perhaps they can intervene or may even know something.” He quickly dictated an express letter to be dispatched to her father’s home.

  “Now, we wait,” he said, almost to himself.

  Mrs. Tunbridge rested for much of the day, and her maid and Maria’s both worked to pack their belongings in preparation of leaving. By the next day, with still no word, Mrs. Tunbridge was well enough to be on her way home. The source of her illness was found in Maria’s room – a bottle of ipecac. Maria had steadily dosed her aunt’s evening chocolate to keep her from coming out of her room and seeing that “Teddy” was in fact Harold Carleton. That same day brought an express from the Earl of Lockley that his daughter had been traced to Gretna Green and found to be legally married to Carleton.

  Thus ended the baronet’s most inconvenient engagement.

  Eliza sat at the table, her plate untouched for the second day in a row. Bessie and her uncle exchanged glances as Bessie picked up her plate and carried it to the kitchen. Uncle cleared his throat and said, “Any plans for the morning, my dear?”

  “No, sir, my trunk is packed, and the coach leaves this afternoon.”

  “I do not like you travelling post, Eliza.”

  “I do not know what choice I have, Uncle.”

  “You will write, won’t you?”

  She looked up at him. “Of course! Every day…”

  “Well. Good…good.”

  “I am going to walk a little bit, Uncle, before being cooped up in the coach for two days.”

  “Very well, my dear.”

  She stood and retrieved her cloak, tying it carefully and wrapping it around her before stepping out in the winter day. It was a gray, cold day with little gusts of wind picking up dead leaves and scuttling them across the driveway and down the lane. She set off, her feet carrying her instinctively as far as the old, abandoned cottage where she spared a little prayer for her cousin. Then she was past it, on toward the old elm tree.

  “I need my horse,” William said as he handed the express letter to Haddely. He strode from the house and out into the yard. “Horse!”

  Rivers brought out Samson, saddled and ready within minutes, and William swung aloft and spurred him gently toward the little cottage nestled in the bend of the bank. He bypassed the town and sped over the fields until he reached his destination. He dismounted and tethered his horse at the carriage house. He went to knock on the door, but a cold breeze suddenly whipped past him. On a hunch, he began walking.

  There she was, standing underneath the old elm tree where they had met those months ago. Head bowed and still, breeze playing with the hem of her cloak and dress. He paused, then moved toward her. She looked up and started at the sight of him, then backed away shaking her head. “No!”

  He stopped. “Please, let me explain.”

  “You explained enough. I am leaving soon.”

  He drew up at that. “Leaving, for where?”

  “Yorkshire. I have a post as a governess.” Her voice broke, and she turned away to hide her tears. He closed the distance between them in a few long strides and gently gripped her shoulders.

  “Like hell you are! I am not letting you go…” he paused, forcing her to look at him. “Unless that is what you truly want…?”

  “I have no choice.”

  “You do. You can choose me.”

  She sniffed angrily, “Choose indecency and humiliation, you mean.”

  “No, Eliza, choose me as a husband. Marry me.”

  She looked up at him, “What? But…”

  He smiled at her. “I was trying to tell you that the other night. I knew I could not marry Miss Lockley, and I was trying to explain but I made a mess of it. Can you forgive me?”

  “Oh my! Oh can you forgive me for thinking what I thought?”

  “Give me an answer, and it is forgotten.”

  “Yes…oh yes!” She was caught tight against him. He buried his face against her hair and his lips found hers. Many moments later, she gasped and pulled away,

  “Oh my! The Lorrimers! They will be expecting me!”

  “I will write them your apologies, and they will find someone else.” He smiled. “My dearest, you are not going anywhere!”

  “Sir William!”

  “You can call me ‘William’ now.”

  “William,” she said shyly. “What of Miss Lockley?”

  In short sentences and eschewing any details, he told her. “I am quite beholden to her, though, for releasing me with so little effort on my part.”

  She giggled, then, but staring into his eyes the laughter caught in her throat. “We must tell my Uncle.”

  “Just one minute more,” and he pulled her to him. Their lips met, unreserved and without holding back. She felt herself press upward against him as his mouth claimed hers. His voice was husky when they finally pulled apart. “I can’t believe you are mine!”

  She smiled and leaned her forehead against his chest. “You know I have no dowry.”

  “You should know I do not care.”

  She pushed him back and made him look her in the eyes. “Say that again.”

  “I do not care. I don’t care if you have thirty thousand pounds or nothing. You are mine, and that, my dear, is all I desire.”

  It was yet another minute before they were able to consider returning to Little Cottage.

  They walked arm-in-arm back to the house. Bessie was hanging out laundry and did a doubletake when they came into view. Slowly, she lowered her arms, then raised her hands to her mouth. William smiled broadly, and Eliza smiled shyly as they entered the house and found Uncle sitting amongst his books.

  “Eliza,” he said without looking up, “This gentleman is claiming that beasts can change over time simply by using some feature. Such as giraffes, he says, they have long necks because they stretched them so trying to acquire food that was higher up in the trees.”

  “Well,” she said, “That does not seem likely, Sir. Many traits do not get passed down no matter how much they are used. And some, like hair color which serves no purpose, are often handed down.”

  “I am of your thinking! There is something else responsible for heredity, but this does not seem to explain it fully.” He finally looked up. “Oh! Sir William, I did not see you there.” He stood in welcome. “Are you injured, Eliza?” he said in concern seeing her upon his arm.

  “No, Uncle. I am well. I am engaged.”

&nb
sp; “Engaged,” he repeated.

  “Indeed, yes. To Sir William, if you give your blessing.”

  “Then you will not be leaving for Yorkshire?”

  “No, Uncle. I will be leaving for Tredwell Abbey.”

  He blinked and wiped at the moisture that had begun to collect in his eyes. “Bless you, Sir William! Oh Eliza!” She hugged him then, the only thing that could have coaxed her away from William’s side. When they broke apart, Eliza spun around to see Bessie peeking out from around the dining room entry.

  “Bessie,” she said. “Did you hear?”

  “Aye, Miss! Oh, did you hear, Cook? Miss Eliza’s engaged to Sir William.”

  “Aye,” was the taciturn response. “Tea’s ready.”

  It was much later when William left to go home, this time openly kissing her before vaulting aloft onto Samson. When he had gone, Eliza ran to write her regrets to the Lorrimers, and then to write another two letters to Henrietta and Penelope.

  Two days later…

  “George!”.

  “Yes Mother?” George gave up on the thought of slipping quietly upstairs to his room.

  “What is all this about William getting married?”

  “They have set a date for a Easter wedding. I fear you will need to spend Easter at Tredwell.”

  “Nonsense, why would they be married in Lytchley?”

  “Where else would they be married?”

  “In London. From the Lockley’s home.”

  Panic hit George. “What exactly did William’s letter say?”

  Delia held the letter at arm’s length and squinted. “Dear Mother, da da da, I have been accepted, da da da...waste of ink when we knew that already. Deemed it best…something…something…can’t quite make out his writing…and then Easter wedding. Please come.”

  George stood still.

  She did not know.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, you missed the important part of the letter. Have you not heard about Maria Lockley and Harold Carleton?”

  She sniffed. “Carleton? What of him? I have been ill, positively ill for days. I haven’t been able to see anyone.”