A Sensible Lady: A Traditional Regency Romance

by Judith Lown

  Katherine swallowed, blushed crimson, and studied the windowpanes.

  “Your reaction is entirely understandable, Miss Brampton.”

  “That is what Mr. Tramell, our old vicar, assured me. I went directly to him. I was in such a state I could not think of anything else to do.”

  “It showed courage and sense to inform the priest at that point, Miss Brampton.”

  Gus was rewarded with a tremulous smile.

  “How kind of you to be so reassuring, Mr. Wharton.”

  Gus took a generous drink of sherry.

  “That is why when Richard was killed and Clive inherited Oak End, I simply could not live there as his dependent. That is why it was so wonderfully kind of Lord Cecil Dracott to lease this house to Aunt Prunella and me.”

  “Lord Cecil was a remarkable gentleman. I, too, owe him a debt of gratitude for taking the risk of giving me the living of St. John Chrysostom’s.”

  “He was a fine judge of character, Mr. Wharton. I am certain there was no risk involved.”

  Gus did not trust himself to speak. He took another sip of sherry.

  “Aunt Prunella and I have been content here at the Dower House, and we could remain here…indefinitely. But our situation has changed with Miguel’s arrival. Miguel’s future must be assured. Sir Clive has impressed me with the urgency of the situation.”

  Katherine Brampton took a deep, shuddering breath, and once more concentrated her attention on the spaniel in her lap. Gus felt the leaden weight return to his chest.

  “Sir Clive has renewed his offer of marriage.”

  Miss Brampton looked at Gus steadily.

  “His offer is quite generous, I know. I had almost convinced myself to accept. But then…then… he spoke of Miguel becoming a dancing master. My darling, dignified little boy becoming an object of fun and ridicule. Dancing masters always are, are they not?”

  Katherine’s peridot eyes filled with tears. One fell and rested on her pale peach cheek. Gus was almost undone. He fumbled in a pocket and produced a clean handkerchief, which he handed to her. She dabbed daintily at her eyes and cleared her throat.

  “I am sorry to inflict my distress upon you, Mr. Wharton. But I needed to let you know the extent of my desperation, because I have resolved, truly, to leave no option unexamined in order to guarantee a respectable, secure future for my nephew.”

  She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. For his part, Gus found he was unable to breathe. Nor was he able to take his eyes off Katherine Brampton’s taut face.

  She fixed him once more with her magnificent green eyes.

  “What I would like to know, Mr. Wharton, is…would you consider marrying me?”

  If the lady had delivered a sharp undercut to his jaw, Gus could not have been less capable of speech. The sound of rain pounding on the diamond windowpanes was loud in his ears as he struggled to find his voice.

  “Oh dear, I have shocked you! I meant to be very calm and businesslike.”

  The spaniel jumped to the floor. Miss Brampton twisted the handkerchief into a rope.

  “Perhaps you have taken a vow, Mr. Wharton. I had considered that possibility. But I am certain you could use a capable housekeeper. I could …”

  Her voice was breathy with panic.

  “No!” Gus managed.

  Katherine’s face turned ashen.

  Good heavens, she might faint, thought Gus, and he rushed to grasp Katherine’s cold, slender hands and chafe them.

  “I did not mean, ‘no, I will not marry you,’ Miss Brampton. I meant, ‘no, I have not taken any silly vows.’”

  He poured out another glass of sherry and handed it to her. She took a sip and put it on the table.

  “Are you saying?” she began in a whisper.

  Gus sat down and tried to collect his thoughts. Miss Brampton’s situation was indeed serious, although not as dire as she supposed. But the ridiculousness of the scene kept pushing itself into his awareness. The clichéd response to sudden proposals that ladies were said to give gentleman kept popping into his mind: “You honor me with your offer, but this is so sudden.”

  The old friends of Gus the Rake would be weeping with laughter at his predicament.

  “What I am saying, Miss Brampton, is that I am quite overwhelmed by the trust and confidence you have shown in me.”

  That sounded both kind and true, Gus decided. And Katherine Brampton’s coloring had returned to pale peach from ashen. An encouraging improvement.

  “Furthermore, I think that your reluctance to marry Sir Clive is understandable. I confess that I have never given much thought to the dignity of dancing masters. But, I suppose you are correct. And Sir Clive’s eagerness to assign such a profession to your nephew does raise questions about the generosity of his spirit toward the child.”

  Katherine Brampton’s shoulders relaxed. Gus glanced at her sherry glass, and she dutifully took another sip. She might need it, he thought. This is the tricky part.

  “And, I do confess, Miss Brampton, that becoming your husband is not without appeal.”

  What she saw in his face, Gus could only guess. She blushed prettily.

  “But rushing into marriage—even for the sake of a much-loved child—is not a wise course of action.”

  Dismay was clear on her face. Somehow he had to reassure her without committing himself to a course of action he had not considered—with any seriousness—until this afternoon.

  “It might be possible for us to have a very happy marriage. People have married for any number of reasons and have discovered that they are wonderfully suited to each other. But sometimes, matters do not work out so fortunately. For example, Miss Brampton, suppose we were to marry, and one of us discovered, after we were married, that we were very much in love—with someone else? That, my dear Miss Brampton, is a formula for true misery.”

  She looked stricken.

  “I am so sorry, Mr. Wharton. I have been so wrapped up in my own dilemma, I had not thought…it had not occurred to me that your affections might be engaged.”

  “Please do not worry on that score, Miss Brampton, they are not.”

  He stood. The storm had died down and he wanted to get away and sort out his thoughts.

  “I was thinking of your affections, Miss Brampton. What if they became engaged elsewhere?”

  Her blush made Gus suspect he had hit on something.

  They walked into the front hallway, and Gus shrugged into the coat he had left on the chair beside the tall clock. He took his hat off the newel-post.

  “If a priest marries, he must ask the approval of his bishop. The bishop would, no doubt, ask for a chat with the priest’s prospective wife—to assess her suitability for the vicarage, one assumes.”

  “Oh! I…I suppose that possibility had not occurred to me.” Katherine covered her lips with her hand and gazed upwards, apparently looking for divine assistance.

  She looked so unnerved it was all he could do not to take her in his arms and tell her of course he wanted nothing more in the world than to marry her.

  “Try not to worry, Miss Brampton. In spite of Sir Clive’s insistence, there really is time before you must make any irrevocable decisions. I doubt matters will become so desperate for you that you must marry without your affections being engaged. And I suppose, if matters become more desperate than I think they will, I could be a…an option of last resort, so to speak.”

  Katherine Brampton scooped up the spaniel and held it tightly to her.

  “Thank you, Mr. Wharton. I shall try not to presume on your generosity.”

  Gus was relieved to head for the stable and Brutus.

  *****

  The wind had died down and a fine drizzle replaced the driving rain. Gus pulled up the collar of his coat, tipped the brim of his hat forward over his eyes, and held his horse’s reins slack. Although not elegant in appearance, Brutus could be depended upon to be sure-footed on muddy roads. He picked his way carefully around ruts and rocks exposed by the sto
rm.

  In spite of the weather, Gus was in no hurry to get home. He really needed to try to sort things out, and riding horseback in a fine, misty rain was as good a place as any to do that. At least his privacy was guaranteed.

  As surprised as Gus had been to receive a marriage proposal from Katherine Brampton, he was almost as surprised that he had not immediately accepted it.

  What’s happened to your infallible sense of self-interest, Gus, old boy? How many times had Katherine Brampton’s feminine appeal disconcerted him to the point that he could hardly finish a sentence? To be the recipient of her gratitude would be a pleasant change from the lonely denial that had been his lot for too long.

  So, why had he stalled and temporized?

  For one thing, Gus decided, it took no special powers of insight to see that Miss Brampton was not quite herself. Instead of the calm, almost dreamlike demeanor with which she had previously faced the challenges of her life, she had been tense and on edge. She looked as if she had not slept nor eaten much for some time. Gus had sufficient experience with the fair sex to be wary of a lady in such a state. Katherine Brampton was not usually the volatile type, but the warning signs had been there.

  But he could cope with a volatile female. He had, many times. Soothing a volatile Katherine Brampton would be no harsh task. Still, he had hesitated.

  Be honest with yourself, Gus. You resent being a safe harbor from life’s vicissitudes, even for a much-tried and frightened beauty. He probably did not have the right to feel that way. Given his past history, the callousness with which he had treated the ladies in his life, it was perfect poetic justice, perfect penance, for him to dedicate his life to rescuing a damsel in distress.

  But in spite of the justice of the situation, in his deepest soul, he was not ready to make that sacrifice. He knew he had not yet given up the hope, the remote—extremely remote—possibility that one day he would meet a lady who could understand, accept, and love exactly who he was now. Not a lady like Katherine Brampton, who refused to believe the stories—which happened to be true—nor one who was fascinated by the stories and felt vaguely sorry that he had made such a drastic turnaround, like Leticia Brampton.

  Was it impossible there was such a lady? Improbable, yes. But not impossible. Gus knew he did not deserve that quality of love, but he was not yet ready to give up all hope of it.

  He pushed his hat back on his head and lifted his face to the soft rain. A wonderful feeling, to know one’s mind: to acknowledge the truth, however embarrassing, even if only to oneself. Then he thought of Katherine Brampton, saw her drawn face in his mind’s eye.

  Hearing her tell the story of her broken engagement to Sir Clive went a long way toward explaining the desperation he sensed in her. And the intensity of her attachment to the child she believed to be Richard’s explained a great deal, too.

  But why had she felt the need to settle her future now? There was the problem of money. She was in strained financial circumstances. If Prunella Summersville died, Miss Brampton might very well lose much-needed income. But Miss Summersville had made it through the winter, and her health was improving.

  Miguel would eventually need a tutor. But he was much too young for Katherine Brampton to be concerned about it now. Sir Clive Brampton could press his suit, but no one could force Katherine Brampton to accept it.

  Whatever it was that had pushed Miss Brampton to the extraordinary measure of asking Gus to marry her was a puzzle. It was clear that she felt no romantic attraction for him whatsoever.

  Gus suspected that a key piece to the puzzle was missing. A large, key piece. One that stood about six feet, three inches tall and weighed fourteen…almost fifteen stone—Harry Dracott had put on weight since returning from Spain. He was an imposing figure of a man. Gus suspected that his old friend Harry had said—or done—something to panic Miss Katherine Brampton. Gus suspected that Miss Brampton had withheld the most relevant and interesting details of her dilemma from him. If he were still a betting man, he would place a substantial wager that Lord Henry Dracott was the most important of those details.

  How would Katherine Brampton have reacted if, after telling her of their need for the bishop’s approval for their marriage, Gus had casually mentioned that courtesy would dictate their asking Lord Henry for his permission?

  Gus had considered saying something about that necessity, but decided not to. He hadn’t known what he would do if Katherine Brampton had fainted dead away in the hall.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Katherine was again cleaning the front parlor with Sally’s help. Miguel had found an extra broom, which he pretended was a horse, and was riding an intricate pattern around chairs, sofas, tables, and buckets. Princess followed him, barking from time to time for no apparent reason.

  If Sally wondered why she and Katherine were once more sweeping, dusting, and polishing every inch of the front parlor, she did not ask. Sally’s eagerness to re-establish herself in good graces would be fleeting, Katherine knew, so she was taking advantage of it while she could. Spring weather had returned and despite the fact that Katherine’s dilemma had not been resolved, she was feeling less pressured.

  When the Reverend Mr. Augustus Wharton had departed the Dower House, Katherine could not believe that she had actually summoned the courage to propose marriage to him. And, although he had not accepted outright, he had left open the possibility of their marriage. “If matters become more desperate.” Perhaps that was why she felt relieved. Or perhaps she was relieved because she knew she had done all she could do to provide the best possible future for Miguel. Perhaps it was because she had told someone else all of her problems—well, not all her problems—but more than she had ever told another living soul.

  The sound of carriage wheels in the driveway warned her of a visitor. She scarcely had time to remove her apron and mobcap before Sally announced Miss Leticia Brampton, who studied the brooms, buckets, and mops as if she had never before seen such objects.

  “Good heavens, Cousin Katherine. I do hope I have not come at an inconvenient time, although I cannot imagine your needing to provide such close supervision for housecleaning. I find it best to retreat to another part of the house when such projects are undertaken. But then it would be difficult to remove oneself very far and still remain in this house, would it not?”

  Katherine refrained from explaining that her role in cleaning was not confined to supervision, and invited Leticia to sit down. Miguel stood beside Katherine’s chair. He had converted his broom from a horse to a standard, which he held in proper military manner. He and Leticia regarded each other warily.

  Katherine told Sally to fetch tea and biscuits and whispered to Miguel that he should help Sally. Katherine knew she could not spare her nephew awkward confrontations forever. He would have to learn to cope with people’s impolite scrutiny. But facing the exquisitely attired Leticia in her shabby black work dress took all the courage Katherine could muster.

  Leticia looked where Miguel, followed by Princess, had just left the parlor.

  “I vow, Cousin Katherine! What an unusual child. More than just being foreign and never speaking, he is so strangely—what is the word—dignified. Yes, that is it. He is strangely dignified for one so young.”

  “I agree, Cousin Leticia. And I believe it means that he was cared for by people of good breeding.”

  Leticia looked surprised.

  “Indeed. I had never given it much thought.” She shrugged. “Not that it matters. But enough speculation about that child’s past. I have so much news, Cousin Katherine. Where to begin?

  “Mama and I have decided to depart for London next Monday, weather permitting. I can scarcely wait. It will be such fun to be in my second season and not be lumped with all of the fresh-faced misses straight from the schoolroom. I do believe that there are many gentlemen who prefer ladies with a little more knowledge of the world.”

  Katherine murmured assent out of courtesy. What did she know of the preferences of London gen
tlemen?

  “Of course by going to London for the season, it does mean temporarily abandoning my prospects for a match with Lord Henry Dracott. I do confess he is a puzzle.”

  Leticia stopped speaking as Sally brought in a tray of tea and biscuits. Katherine concentrated on pouring out. She did not trust herself to comment on Lord Dracott.

  Leticia Brampton sipped her tea and chewed a bite of biscuit before continuing.

  “I had thought he showed a clear interest in me at his New Year’s dinner party. Mama said that he was enchanted by my singing voice. But would you believe? He has not followed those marked attentions with even one call at Oak End! Most peculiar!”

  Leticia frowned and sipped tea.

  “It is commonly understood that his attachment to Lady Angela is still too strong for him to pay court to another lady,” Katherine offered.

  “He will have to do something about the matter eventually,” Leticia insisted. “If Lord Henry thinks I will be available indefinitely, he needs to reconsider. It would serve him right if another gentleman offers for me while he dawdles.

  “Dracotts always marry for money and social position. Look what Lady Elizabeth brought to Lord Cecil Dracott. And since Lord Henry neglected the financial aspect in marrying Lady Angela, I am certain he will want to remedy that with his second wife. Where else will he find such a creature but in London during the season? It would be no end amusing to watch him attempt to navigate among the ton.”

  Katherine took a bite of biscuit to avoid commenting.

  “But what I really came to discuss is not Lord Dracott.”

  Leticia set her cup and saucer on the table next to her chair.

  “What I came for was to urge you to join Mama and me in London.”

  “But that is not at all possible…” Katherine began.

  “No, no, no. Hear me out before you say any such thing. I know you have no money to spare for a new wardrobe and the expenses of a London season, but Mama would be happy to provide you with all you need. Of course you will have to leave that impertinent maid here to look after that strange child. I intend to hire a dresser in London and we can share her services. Country maids will do for the country, but they are hardly up to a lady’s requirements in the metropolis.”