His Bluestocking Bride_A Regency Romance

by Sally Britton

  “Mama has come for tea,” Mrs. Banner announced from the doorway, then immediately knelt as a small figure hurtled towards her.

  The boy looked a great deal like his mother, with dark hair and eyes. He wrapped his arms about her neck in an embrace. Then a smaller child in a long white dress, no leading strings, toddled over from the arms of the smiling nurse. The little girl’s hair was fairer and her eyes a grayish blue. She babbled happily at her mother in the language of babies.

  Arthur was talking, and while some adults might not understand, Ellen could tell his mother took in every word. Then the boy caught sight of the guest and fell silent, taking a step back from his mother to get a better look at the intruder.

  “Arthur, this is Mrs. Calvert. She is Mama’s friend and has come to take tea with us. Can you say hello?”

  “Hello,” the boy repeated obediently, still staring upward.

  Ellen remembered her manners and knelt down as low as she could, offering a kind smile. “Hello, Arthur. Your mother tells me you like to slay dragons.”

  It was exactly the right thing to say; Arthur’s face brightened and he began talking excitedly. “I’m a knight!” He turned and ran away from her to snatch up a picture book and bring it back, showing it to her with a pleased face.

  Ellen took the book with reverence and read the cover. “Saint George and the Dragon. A very good book, indeed."

  “But I wouldn’t kill the dragon,” the boy told her with great solemnity. “I would keep it.”

  Mrs. Banner laughed, hugging her daughter to her. “And a fearsome pet it would be, but I am not certain it could remain in the house, and I doubt the barn would do for such a beast either.”

  Arthur did not seem impressed by this but took the book back and handed it to his nurse. “Nurse knows where t’keep dragons.”

  The woman, in her late thirties, nodded sagely. “I have told him that a dragon would do very well living in the garden, frightening off the rabbits that eat Cook’s vegetables.”

  “Nurse Hardy is very wise.” Mrs. Banner kissed her daughter’s head and gestured for Ellen to sit at the table near one of the large windows. Two windows filled most of the outside wall, with curtains pulled away, allowing the winter sunlight to flood the room. Warm carpets covered the floor and a fire burned cheerily behind a grate. The walls were decorated with water colors of animals, both domestic and wild. A basket sat in one corner, filled with wooden toys, and a small bookshelf was the repository of a handful of books.

  “This room is absolutely perfect,” Ellen said in a breathless sigh. An open doorway led to another room where she could see a crib and a small bed.

  “Thank you.” Mrs. Banner settled her daughter on her lap and waited patiently for her son to take his seat. Then Nurse Hardy brought over a tray that had been waiting on a taller shelf, covered to keep in some of the warmth.

  "Would you like me to pour out, Mrs. Banner?” the nurse asked.

  “Please, Nurse Hardy. Thank you.”

  Arthur received steamed milk in his cup and two biscuits on his plate. Little Esther took a biscuit from her mother and proceeded to break it into pieces before shoving bits in her mouth. Though crumbs rained into Mrs. Banner’s lap, she didn’t seem to notice or care. She was at complete ease in the nursery.

  A longing began in Ellen’s heart as she watched the sweet interplay between mother and children. Nurse Hardy seemed completely accustomed to the tradition and helped mind Arthur’s milk while she told Mrs. Banner what the children had accomplished since luncheon. Ellen nibbled a biscuit, content to sit and listen.

  The children’s tea did not take long and afterward Mrs. Banner excused herself to put the baby down for a nap. Arthur insisted he did not need one, but Nurse Hardy convinced him to at least rest his head while she read a story.

  “He will be asleep in a trice,” Mrs. Banner whispered as she led Ellen back out the way they had come. But as they neared the stairs, Mr. Banner appeared. "Peter, you may not go in. You have missed tea and it’s nap time.” Mrs. Banner spoke with a slight scold in her tone, though her expression remained affectionate.

  Peter Banner allowed his shoulders to droop and lowered his head comically. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to miss tea.”

  “You take tea with the children too?” Ellen could not help her surprise.

  “As often as I can,” Mr. Banner answered firmly, standing upright again. “Tell me, Mrs. Calvert, in your unbiased opinion, are they not magnificent?”

  “They very much are.” Ellen watched the proud parents exchange amused glances.

  Mr. Banner offered his arm to his wife. “Might I escort you both back down to the morning room? I believe there will be a more sumptuous tea there.”

  “And you are hoping for an invitation.” His wife shook her head and sighed. “Such manners.”

  “I hardly think Mrs. Calvert would turn me out into the cold, forcing me to take tea all alone in my study.” He cast his eyes back to Ellen as they descended the stairs. “Would you be so cruel, Mrs. Calvert?”

  “I would not,” she answered sweetly. “But I’m not the queen of this country. We must both bow to the wishes of Mrs. Banner.”

  “Please, call me Louisa. I feel we are going to be dear friends.”

  “Thank you, you are very kind. You may call me Ellen.”

  The tea passed with polite conversation, Mr. Banner teasing Louisa a great deal, but she never blushed. She teased him back. Ellen watched the exchange with a measure of envy. After a quarter hour, Mr. Banner took leave of his wife, kissing her cheek before he withdrew. Louisa watched him leave, a sparkle in her eye.

  “You love him very much,” Ellen said when the door had shut behind him.

  Louisa nodded. “He is my whole world. He and the children. We’ve known each other many years, and loved each other nearly as long.” She sat primly in her chair and looked expectantly at Ellen. “I understand you’ve known Mr. Calvert since childhood. I haven’t had the chance to ask how you came to marry.”

  “We have known each other for many years. I was still a nursery child when we met. I saw Marcus every summer. Then we met again this autumn, at my cousin’s home.”

  Louisa sighed and leaned back in an elegant repose. “It sounds like a beautiful love story, to be reunited with a childhood friend in such a way.”

  Ellen could not think how to answer that, as their story did not contain any love, except for that which she kept locked securely in her heart. “We care for one another a great deal. And we are good friends,” she stated firmly, her eyes drifting down to her lap where she clutched her hands together. “I don’t think I would’ve married, had Marcus not asked me.”

  Louisa made a sound of understanding. “Your feelings for him must be very deep.”

  Ellen felt the tears prickling at the back of her eyes but raised her head with a smile. “Yes. Well. Please, tell me more about your growing up here. It is such a lovely place and the country round about so pleasant.”

  For a moment her friend looked confused, but then obliged Ellen and spoke of the village, their neighbors, and offered insight into the local history Ellen had not yet received. Relaxing into this comfortable atmosphere, Ellen was not aware of the time passing. A clock on the mantel ticked quietly but did not chime.

  Not until the room grew dark did Ellen look up. “Oh dear. I didn’t mean to stay this long. I hope I have not caused your schedule any harm.”

  Louisa laughed and shook her head. “Not at all! These have been pleasant hours. I’m surprised we haven’t been interrupted by the children.” Louisa looked toward the window and frowned. “When did it begin snowing?”

  Ellen rose and went over, looking at the small drifts upon the walk. She looked up at the gray sky. “I had better send for the coach.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” a male voice said from the door, drawing her attention to Mr. Banner. “Your coachman and I have been speaking. I am afraid none of us were giving the attention we ought to th
e weather. If you look out the windows at the front of the house, you’ll see a sky nearly black with clouds. A storm is rising quickly. With snow already on the road, I didn’t think it advisable for you to attempt a return home. Your coachman agrees.”

  Louisa came to her feet and went to her friend, putting her hand on Ellen’s arm. “I’m terribly sorry, Ellen. If I’d paid more attention to the time, we might have sent you home, or sent someone on horseback to apprise Mr. Calvert of the situation. But we cannot risk that now.” She looked to her husband who nodded in confirmation. “Mr. Calvert will be terribly worried.”

  “Likely not,” Ellen responded, absently as she stared out the window. “He will trust you and our coachman, Mr. Henry, to keep me safe.” She swallowed and forced a smile. It could very well be that her husband wouldn’t notice her missing until the dinner hour.

  Their routine would be interrupted.

  “As soon as the weather clears, we’ll send word to Calvert,” Mr. Banner promised.

  “Thank you, Mr. Banner.”

  “You can call me Banner, if you wish, as your husband does. All will be well. We’ll feed you a good dinner and provide what you need for the evening.”

  “I am grateful for your kindness.”

  “If you will excuse us a moment, I think I’ll go look in on the children.” Louisa followed her husband from the room, skirts swishing behind her.

  Lowering herself to the window seat, Ellen leaned forward to rest her forehead on the cold glass.

  What would Marcus think when he found her gone? They saw each other when they took breakfast together. The meal had been interrupted by the morning post, which had letters from London acquaintances he seemed eager to read. He didn’t stay in the room long after it arrived. Marcus didn’t even mention her visit, possibly forgetting about it overnight.

  He would trust the Banners to keep her safe, when he realized where she was. But would he miss her? Would he find the evening meal lonely or the house too quiet?

  Granted, she didn’t make much sound or fill much physical space, but she hoped he found her company pleasant when he took the time to share in it.

  Louisa returned, a maid accompanying her, by which time Ellen had gathered her thoughts in a tidy manner.

  “The children will come down to play before their dinner.” She handed the tea tray to the maid. “And Susan will prepare the guest room for your use tonight. I’ll make certain you have something warm to sleep in as well.”

  “You are so kind, Louisa. Thank you, Susan.”

  The maid bobbed a curtsy and left the room, steps quick and efficient.

  “I do hope you will forgive me for being thoughtless of the time and weather.” Louisa retook her seat, her concern evident in the lines above her brows. “That was neglectful of me. Do you suppose Mr. Calvert will forgive us for keeping you overlong?”

  Ellen came back to her warm chair, rubbing her forearms. She’d grown cold sitting by the window. “There is nothing to forgive. Marcus will not suffer much concern, knowing where I am. The staff will make him comfortable and I’ll go home as soon as the roads are clear.”

  Louisa blinked at Ellen and her lips parted as though she would speak, but she hesitated. “I can imagine Peter’s worry if something similar were to happen to me. Even knowing I was safe, I doubt he would be able to sleep.”

  This would be the true test of Louisa’s friendship, Ellen thought. To see what she made of the circumstances surrounding their marriage. “If you will not betray my confidence,” Ellen said softly, “I’ll tell you why I think as I do.”

  Louisa nodded and leaned forward. “Of course, Ellen. Nothing you say to me as your friend will be repeated to others.”

  “Good.” Ellen nodded and took a deep breath before launching into a quiet, though thorough, explanation of her marriage to Marcus. As she spoke, Louisa’s face betrayed a myriad of emotions, from surprise, to humor, to something resembling sadness.

  “You see, Marcus won’t worry for me any more than he would for another member of the household. Ours is not a love match. He will view the situation practically.” She meant to finish the statement strongly, but her voice faltered at the end and she had to look down to regain her composure.

  “You wish it wasn’t so,” Louisa said, leaning forward to put a hand on Ellen’s arm. “I am sorry, my dear friend. When you spoke of growing up together, I assumed your story would be similar to Peter’s and mine.”

  Ellen took in a shaky breath and guessed her smile did not look so confident as she wished. “There is nothing to be sorry about. Many couples marry for reasons similar to ours. I feel grateful that the choice was left up to me, not made by my parents, and that Marcus and I get along. Our marriage is one of comfortable companionship.”

  Louisa didn’t get the chance to respond. The door opened to admit the nurse and Arthur, with baby Esther on her caretaker’s hip. Arthur charged into the room and climbed into his mother’s lap, already talking rapidly about Nurse’s stories and her promise of cake if he ate his meal.

  Welcoming the interruption, Ellen asked to hold Esther and enjoyed playing a clapping game with the toddler, who didn’t mind strangers very much so long as they kept her entertained. Playing with children came easily to Ellen and she hoped she would have her own one day, to share her heart with. Marcus would continue to receive her love, though he didn’t know it, but it would be heavenly to have a little one to reciprocate tenderness and affection.

  Much later that evening, as she stood in the guestroom provided by her new friend, Ellen looked out into the dark night outside her window. The snow continued to fall in sheets.

  Determined to feel gratitude at being warm and safe, Ellen turned to her bed and slid between the sheets with a sigh. A warming pan had been applied moments before, yet her feet felt frigid.

  Ellen curled onto her side and closed her eyes.

  Despite her assertions on Marcus’s feelings about her absence, her heart hoped he worried for her, at least a little.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The sound of the front door closing echoed through the hall. Marcus stepped out of his study, a pamphlet from the Royal Society in his hand. He glanced to the entryway and saw the maid moving from the door.

  “Sarah?” he called. She turned and scurried towards him, her round face smiling brightly. “Was that Mrs. Calvert leaving?”

  “Yes, sir. She is on her way to see Mrs. Banner.” The maid bobbed her curtsy as she spoke. “She said to be sure to tell you, sir.”

  “Oh.” Blast. Marcus hoped to see her off. He wondered for a moment why she didn’t say goodbye. Ellen didn’t like to trouble anyone.

  But he wished she would have known, would trust, that he valued her person and her time. She would be gone for a few hours, and told him of her going the night before, which left him no reason to worry. Yet he felt strangely bereft knowing she would not be about the house.

  Sarah rocked back on her heels slightly, bringing him abruptly from his thoughts. “I apologize, Sarah. There is nothing further. You may go.”

  She dropped another curtsy and went on her way, humming softly.

  Marcus looked down at the papers in his hand and sighed. He would’ve liked to discuss the information he learned with Ellen, but it could wait. There were some very interesting ideas on the proper nourishment for plum trees and he wondered if they might be beneficial to their apple orchards as well. He glanced toward the front door once more before taking himself back to his office to finish his reading.

  He planned to write a letter to the Agricultural Society in London to inquire about visiting. Would Ellen enjoy going with him? Her mind absorbed information like a sea sponge absorbed water and she retained a great deal more than he thought he ever could.

  He lifted another book Ellen had given him from his desk. A commonplace book. He had ever used one before. But thus far, it had been a useful tool. He sometimes jotted down the name of a book and page number he would wish to refer to later, but
he had copied down a few paragraphs in full. There was also a page in which he recorded questions to ask men more learned than he in the matters of caring for apple trees.

  He took up his pencil and began to write what he had discovered from the pamphlet, but after a time he glanced at the clock, feeling it must be near tea time.

  Barely half an hour had passed.

  He frowned at the clock on his shelves and turned his attention to the estate account books.

  The afternoon passed slowly, interrupted for tea, before he shook himself of the need to wonder when his wife would be home.

  At some point, a footman came in and began to light more candles for Marcus to work. It was then he looked at the time and realized Ellen should return soon. He stood and stretched. Then he took up another book, deciding to sit in the front parlor where he would hear the carriage return.

  There were a few things he ought to discuss with Ellen and he didn’t see why he must wait until their usual conversations after dinner. And she might want to discuss her visit with Mrs. Banner. She’d been gone nearly the whole of the afternoon, which was encouraging. Louisa Banner was the perfect friend for Ellen. The woman was kind and intelligent; close in age to Ellen and mature in character.

  Really, he ought to be pleased Ellen stayed out visiting late. But the sky grew darker and the time later. He finally rang for the housekeeper.

  Mrs. Burk entered the parlor, her customary tranquility doing nothing to calm his concern. “Yes, Mr. Calvert?”

  “Mrs. Burk, did my wife happen to say when she expected to be home?”

  “I believe she planned on returning by dinner, sir.” Mrs. Burk’s mannerisms did not alter. “But perchance she saw the turn in the weather and decided to stay put. It appears as though a storm is beginning.”

  Marcus’s head turned quickly toward the window. “A storm?”

  “Yes, sir. I stepped outside a moment ago. I think the coachman would likely advise remaining where they are at present, given his cautious nature.”