The Marriage Market
By
Cathy Spencer
ISBN: 978-1-77145-084-3
PUBLISHED BY:
Books We Love Ltd.
(Electronic Book Publishers)
Chestermere, Alberta
Canada
http://bookswelove.net
Copyright 2013 by Catherine Spencer
Cover Art Copyright 2013 by Michelle Lee
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
To Reid, as always.
Chapter One – New Friends
With one daughter approaching a marriageable age and another not far behind, Admiral and Mrs. Larke had a problem to consider. They discussed it in the Admiral’s dressing room as they reviewed his wardrobe, a task necessitated by his recent retirement from the British Navy.
“Victoria is adamant in her opinion – she will not marry a naval officer?”
“So she says, Frank.”
“Well, that is rather insulting, considering her father’s profession.”
“No, you mustn’t look at it in that light. She has the utmost respect for the British Navy and its members – particularly for you, of course. She simply does not wish to marry a sailor. This shirt collar needs mending. What do you think of the jacket?” she asked, pulling it from the trunk.
“It will do.”
“Here, stand up and try it on. I haven’t seen you wear it these past twenty years.” Mrs. Larke stretched up on tiptoe to assist her husband. The admiral’s figure was more distinguished than it had been in his civilian days, and the buttons failed to fasten. He began to flush with the effort, a common disadvantage in those of his red colouring.
“Never mind the jacket, pet. Let us return to Victoria. She was always such an amiable girl. Whatever have you done to give her such a low opinion of the British Navy?”
Mrs. Larke drew herself up to her full height and glared at her husband. She was a little bird of a woman with a hint of silver in the blond hair escaping from her cap. “Do you accuse me of complaining to the child, sir?”
The admiral sank back into his wing chair and grumbled, “No, of course not, Martha. You have always been my strong right hand – none more game and reliable than you. You are not a complainer.”
Mollified, Mrs. Larke knelt beside his chair and rested a hand upon his arm. “Victoria is an obedient and genial girl, but underneath that sweet exterior lays a flinty will. I always tried to hide my nerves from our daughters while you were away fighting that villain, Bonaparte, but Victoria guessed my fear and decided against the life of a navy wife for herself. She once told me that she wants a husband who will sit with her in front of the hearth at the end of the day. I said that she could go to sea with a captain husband, but she wants her own home. I know how lonely the life of a sailor’s wife can be, Frank. I think that we should help her to find a stay-at-home husband.”
Admiral Larke harrumphed. “But we live in Portsmouth, Martha. Not marrying a naval officer leaves out almost all the eligible gentlemen we know. Just whom is she going to marry?”
“I know it’s a problem, dear. That’s why I’ve consulted with my sister, and I think it best we move away.”
“Move away! I’ve just come home after twenty-five years at sea!”
“I understand that this is upsetting, Frank, but there is more than just Victoria to consider. Have you not noticed a change in Patricia?”
“Confound it, madam, she has not voiced a prejudice against the British Navy too, has she?”
“No, I mean in her appearance.”
“Not my little sprout!”
“Your little sprout is sixteen, Frank, just three years younger than Victoria. She’s becoming more womanly every day. In two or three years, we will be looking for a husband for Patricia, too. We should be living where there is a selection of fine young gentlemen of good family. We don’t want our daughters to settle for just anyone, now, do we?”
The admiral sighed. “Did you and your sister also decide where we should move to?”
She nodded her head. “Bath.”
“Bath! That’s a little dear, isn’t it?”
Mrs. Larke rose to her feet and folded her arms across her chest. “Yes. Dearer than Portsmouth, but less expensive than a good house in London. Listen to me, Frank. It’s time to loosen the purse strings. We shall begin with new clothing for you. Your uniform is near retirement, too. We’ll not find a fine gentleman for Victoria with you wearing clothes fit for the gardener!” The admiral lowered his head in defeat.
Once the decision was made, Admiral Larke acted with characteristic speed and efficiency. Before they knew it, the family was uprooted to Bath and settled on a reasonably fashionable street in a suitably impressive residence with a drawing room of quite ample proportion.
Soon after the move, Mrs. Larke shooed her husband off to the tailor’s to prevent him from being underfoot as she arranged the reception rooms’ furnishings. She and her daughters were unpacking crates in the drawing room, aprons over their plainest dresses and scarves tied around their hair, when they heard the admiral’s halloo.
“We’re in here, Frank,” Mrs. Walters called.
Admiral Larke entered the room with two young gentlemen trailing behind him. James Wovington, a well-formed, sandy-haired blond dressed in the latest fashion, stopped a few paces into the room to stare at the ladies’ dishabille. The other gentleman hesitated on the threshold. David Ladbrook was taller, darker, and wirier than his friend, his hair dishevelled and his cravat indifferently tied.
“Do come in, Mr. Ladbrook. I know that my wife and daughters will be happy to know you,” the admiral said, drawing him into the room.
“Frank!” was all his flabbergasted wife could say. Patricia, long-limbed and slim, stiffened like a deer caught in a hunter’s sights, her cheeks glowing brighter than her auburn hair. She retreated behind the piano and began untying her apron. Victoria was also startled, but she put down the pile of music she had been sorting and stepped forward with a welcoming smile. She was a plump, pretty blond with blue eyes that sparkled with amusement at their predicament.
“Please introduce us to your new friends, Father,” Victoria said.
“Of course. My dears, this is Mr. Wovington and Mr. Ladbrook. I met them at the tailor’s this morning, where Mr. Wovington very kindly advised me on the proper sleeve length for my new jacket. What he does not know about the cut of a coat or the weave of a fabric is hardly worth knowing. He has promised to give his opinion on my great coat, too, so I’ll just run upstairs and fetch it. I won’t be a minute,” he said, rushing from the room.
“Frank, it’s still packed away in one of the trunks,” Mrs. Larke called after him. “Excuse me,” she said, bobbing a curtsy to the young men and hurrying out after him.
The four young people stared at each other. Victoria regained her equanimity first and remarked, “How kind of you to assist my father, sir.”
“Not at all,” Wovington replied. “Although I am a solicitor by profession, my father is in the textile business, and he keeps me abreast of all the current fashions.”
“Are you also a connoisseur of feminine attire? I fear that you do not catch us at our best this morning,” Victoria said, pulling the scarf from her hair and running her fingers through the golden curls that tumbled to her shoulders.
“Nonsense. With such natural beauty, you need never fear any inadequacy of dress.”
“How kind of you to say so,” she said, dimpling. “My father did not finish our introduction. This is my sister, Miss Patricia Larke, and I am Miss Victoria Larke.” Patricia stepped out from behind the piano and curtsied while Wovington and Ladbrook bowed.
Victoria hurried to remove a sheet from the sofa. “Pray, be seated,” she said with a wave of her arm. “I’ll just be a moment while I find the maid and order some tea.” Patricia’s eyes grew large at the thought of being left alone with the two men, but Ladbrook quickly intervened.
“Please don’t go to the trouble, Miss Larke,” he said, perching on the sofa with his hat balancing on his knees. “James and I have just breakfasted.”
“Well, if you’re sure, Mr. Ladbrook,” Victoria said, grateful for his thoughtfulness. She and Patricia uncovered two chairs and sat as well. “Tell me, are you visitors to the city, or is Bath your home?”
Wovington replied, “This is Ladbrook’s first visit to Bath, Miss Larke. He is rather a bumpkin, coming from a country estate north of Salisbury. I’ve visited Bath many times myself, but my practice is in Salisbury. Personally, I prefer town life to country. I’m never sure what to do with myself after the first ten minutes in the country.”
Ladbrook said, “That’s because he’s never put in a day of hard labour in his life, Miss Larke. Wovington is never to be found when there is any chance of getting his hands dirty, but he has proven useful in showing me the sights of Bath.”
“And how ever did you two meet, having such dissimilar interests?”
Wovington said, “We boarded at the same tutor’s house when we were schoolboys. Ladbrook is two years my senior, and took me under his wing. I’ve been beholden to him ever since, so I endeavour to educate him in the finer things of life. He really is a likable fellow, and his manners are passable when some of the country has worn off, so I have not given up on him yet. But he wears me down at times.” Wovington winked at his friend.
“Ah, poor Jamie. We all have our burdens in life, but I’m sure that you will be blessed for your efforts to improve me,” Ladbrook said. “And now, I am terribly afraid that we must take your leave, ladies. I hate to disappoint your father, but we have an appointment to meet a family friend. Perhaps we can return at another time, at your father’s convenience?”
“Yes of course, gentlemen. We mustn’t keep you from your engagement. We will be in tomorrow morning, if that will suit?”
“We are completely at your leisure,” Wovington replied.
“How kind. We look forward to seeing you tomorrow, then.” The two gentlemen rose, bowed, and departed from the room.
“What a pretty young lady,” Ladbrook said on his way to the front door.
“Yes, I’ve always had a weakness for petite blondes,” Wovington agreed with a wolfish smile.
After the gentleman had departed the room, Patricia sighed in relief. “I am glad that they have gone, Victoria. Not that they did not seem like nice gentlemen.”
“I plan to find out how nice as soon as possible,” Victoria replied with a saucy smile.
Chapter Two – Berry Picking
The gentlemen did take the opportunity to call upon the Larke family on the appointed morning, and on many occasions after that. Fortunately, they were music lovers, for the Larkes were a musical family. Patricia played the piano, Admiral Larke played the flute, an instrument that had accompanied him on all his voyages, and Victoria sang. Fortunately, Mrs. Larke played no instrument, for someone had to applaud the others’ efforts.
One fine day in early autumn, the family made plans for a country picnic and invited their new friends to accompany them. They found a dry, grassy spot on a hill overlooking a meadow, and were soon comfortable on blankets and pillows. It was a warm, lazy day, and after dining from an over-stuffed basket, Admiral and Mrs. Larke were disposed to nap in the shade of a leafy oak tree. Victoria wanted some exercise, however, and proposed a walk to pick wild berries.
“Come along, Tricia, you’re not going to nap away such a lovely afternoon? What do you think, sirs? Can I entice you to come for a walk with us?”
“You’re going berry-picking, Miss Ladbrook? I have never been berry-picking in my life,” Wovington replied.
“Wovington, you astound me. Your life experience is sadly wanting in some fundamental areas,” Ladbrook said. “Come, get up, and we will join them in some exercise.”
The four young people strolled along a shady path, teasing Wovington for his ignorance of the local flora and fauna along the way. Victoria found a berry bush and picked some fruit into her pocket handkerchief, while Patricia gathered wild flowers for a nosegay. Soon Patricia drifted ahead, and Ladbrook, who was too chivalrous to abandon the girl, cast a longing glance at Victoria before following her sister. Wovington was delighted by this opportunity to be alone with Victoria, and lolled on a nearby rock in the shade.
The young woman passed a handkerchief containing a generous handful of plump berries to the gentleman. “Here you are, Mr. Wovington, taste these blackberries. They are still warm from the sun. Are they not good?”
“Delicious, Miss Larke. I have not tasted their equal since a trip to the market last Friday.”
“Yes, but these are fresher, not to mention free of charge, provided by nature’s bounty.”
“You’re right, Miss Larke, they are well worth all your efforts. Please feel free to go on with your picking.” He smiled lazily up at her and ate another berry.
Victoria blew a stray curl away from her warm cheek. She was perturbed that Mr. Wovington wasn’t being as attentive as her male admirers usually were, and wondered what kind of game he was playing at. Out loud, she remarked, “Sir, I do not mean to be rude, but should I not be the one reclining delicately in the shade while you perform the labour?”
“Let’s leave berry-picking and flower-gathering to Ladbrook and your sister, shall we? Come and rest next to me,” he said, patting the rock beside him.
Victoria frowned. “I suppose you mean that simple pleasures such as these are too rustic for your sophisticated tastes?”
Wovington leaned toward her on one elbow. “As I recall, I outgrew such childish pursuits by the age of twelve.”
“Childish? And what did you replace them with, pray?”
Wovington grinned roguishly. “Let us just say that I found more entertaining things to do with a young woman.”
“That is hardly a proper thing to say to a lady, Mr. Wovington,” Victoria huffed. She turned and headed down the path Patricia and Mr. Ladbrook had taken.
“Come now, Miss Larke, it was just a little joke,” he said, springing to his feet and hurrying after her. “Don’t be cross with me.”
“Perhaps your tastes are too jaded to enjoy my company,” Victoria said, not slackening her pace.
“Nonsense. Your innocence and freshness are delightful. I admire you for them.”
“Innocence?” she said, glancing up at him.
“Yes,” he said. “Gentlemen are more sophisticated than ladies, of course, because we must make our way in the wicked world. That is not to say that we are immoral, but we are soon robbed of our illusions. We do, however, value the simplicity and purity of the ladies who grace our lives, and strive to insulate them from the world’s evils.”
“I see,” Victoria said, slowing.
“Am I forgiven, then, Miss Larke?”
She turned to face him, her eyes rolling. “Only if you stop trying to appease me with such balderdash, sir. You forget that my father was away at sea for the better part of twenty-five years, and my mother had to raise us practically on her own. She did not sit at home like some hothouse rose, however. She paid the bills, hired the servants, dealt with the shop keepers, and did everything else required in the running of a household. And she raised her daughters to be practical and useful, too.”
“I see,” Wovington said, a twinkle in his eyes. “Pray forgive me. I did not mean to imply that you were coddled and idle, Miss Larke. I was only praising
your virtue and innocence.” He clasped his hands behind him and tilted his head to one side. “You do not object to being described as ‘virtuous,’ do you?”
“Of course not.”
“I see. Perhaps the word ‘innocence’ offends you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Wovington shrugged. “Pardon me, but I do not understand the basis for our quarrel.”
Victoria stared at him. “It’s just that . . . . I only mean . . . .” Wovington raised one eyebrow and Victoria threw up her hands. “You must be an excellent lawyer, Mr. Wovington. You twist my words most effectively.”
Wovington laughed and shook his head. “Let us argue no longer, Miss Larke. Please accept my humblest apology for anything I might have said that offended your sensibilities.” He clasped his hands before him and bowed his head in a caricature of supplication.
It was Victoria’s turn to laugh. “I accept your apology even if I doubt your sincerity, sir. Shall we find Patricia and Mr. Ladbrook now?”
“Let’s,” he said, offering her his arm.
Two days later, the two gentlemen were invited to the Larke residence for coffee and plum cake. Patricia played a new composition on the piano, while Ladbrook turned the pages for her. Taking advantage of his friend’s distraction, Wovington drew Victoria into a private corner. He pulled a flat box secured with red ribbon from his pocket and handed it to her with a bow.
“A present for me, Mr. Wovington?” she inquired, one eyebrow lifting.
“Not so much a present as a return of your property, Miss Larke,” he responded.
Puzzled, Victoria removed the ribbon and opened the box to reveal a dainty handkerchief trimmed with lace, its hem embroidered with pink rosebuds.
“It’s lovely, Mr. Wovington, fit for a special occasion. But why do you give it to me?”
“To replace the hankie that you gave me when we were berry-picking.”
“But that was only a piece of cambric suitable for holding berries, not anything as fine as this. I really cannot accept your gift, sir.”
The Marriage Market Page 1