by Anne Millar
He seemed to be lost for a moment, perhaps imagining how it might have been if Jeremy had lived, and Judith had no idea what to say.
“Judith, I’ve nothing against Sir Theodore, and goodness knows he is generous in his proposal, but are you sure?”
That was worse than if father had just accepted her offer, he was making her the arbiter.
“I am. There are two matters I wish to specify.” It made it easier to treat this as a business arrangement. Which is what it was in reality. “Can we get sound advice to make sure all the details are worked out properly. Perhaps Lord Tresham or Aunt Matilde could help with the details?”
It made her feel like a traitor to see the sag in his shoulders. But there was no point in this if it wasn’t done properly. It was just that it was to tell your father you could not trust his judgement.
“Yes, Judith. And your second specification?”
“Rather than Sir Theodore coming here I would like us to visit him at Horsley Hall.” Highly irregular when etiquette specified that a swain should call upon a lady to make her his offer. As Thomas had done. But then this was a highly irregular match and she could not bear to have to accept the baronet in her home. In another house it would be more bearable.
“Yes, Judith, we can do that.”
So the thing was settled.
~
To be followed in short order by a trip to Horsley Hall with her father. Neither of them able to look the other in the eye. The windows kept rattling as they always did and Judith almost remarked that there would soon be the money to fix them. Not that she meant to be cruel or vicious, just that the phrase kept rolling round her head waiting to be blurted out.
The footmen who swarmed round their coach were splendid. No expense had been spared on their livery, the Horsley arms embroidered into breeches and coats alike. That would have to change, Sir Theodore might be prepared to be the butt of the county with such displays of tasteless ostentation, but she knew better. She caught herself at the sight of father’s face. He looked as though he were attending an execution, and that reminded her the last thing she ought to be thinking about right now was how she would settle into the role of Lady Horsley.
The butler looked nervous too as he showed them into an over decorated room. Understandably if he knew he was ushering in the new mistress of the house. But then he shouldn’t know that, it was terribly crass that a servant would be party to such sensitive information. Judith felt the urge to turn and run from this terrible mistake while there was still the time. Only there wasn’t time, it was already too late for her, too late for the rest of her life to have any meaning or promise of happiness.
Lady Florinda Horsley clearly didn’t think so. Even more than the beaming Sir Theodore she was ecstatic, smiling fit to burst and barely able to contain her joy of the occasion.
“My dear Miss Hampton.” For a dreadful moment Judith feared she was about to be embraced. Then Sir Theodore came forward to take her hand between his two and she realised embracing wouldn’t have been so bad. She looked round for her father to see him shrinking back, his contribution to the afternoon obviously fulfilled by delivering his daughter.
“Sir Theodore.”
“Judith.” He said her name with all the relish of one receiving a particularly anticipated gift, and Judith felt her stomach turn over with apprehension. How much of this could she tolerate? No one seemed to have any idea what to say next and the disadvantage of performing this ritual outside the bride’s home was becoming quite apparent. Society had no formula for leaving the couple alone together in this situation. Fortunately Lady Florinda Horsley hadn’t studied the niceties of social behaviour with any degree of application and she simply swept Judith’s father up and away with her.
“Judith, you must realise my regard for you.” At least he was going to restrict himself to saying what was appropriate. It might make this more tolerable if he didn’t pretend this was anything other than a pre-arranged business transaction. “I should be honoured if you would consent to become Lady Horsley.”
A mite high flown, but reasonably business like. It was a moment before Judith realised she was so detached she was evaluating his performance instead of giving the man his answer. Sir Theodore was starting to sweat at the brow as he waited for her response.
“Thank you, Sir Theodore. I should be delighted to accept your offer.”
His relief was transparent, which was quite ridiculous when he had known why she’d come here, and must have known what her answer had to be. Still it was a little reassuring that he did not take her for granted. As Thomas had.
“Would you like to inspect the house to see what changes you would wish to make, Judith? I hoped we might marry soon.” That was making the prospect immediate and Judith could feel panic staking its claim on her. “My mother will of course move into the dower house on the occasion of our nuptials. But she will still be on hand for company when my military duties take me away.” That was obviously meant to be a huge reassurance and Judith felt churlish for her uncharitable reaction. Did the man always have to speak so formally? The thought struck her that it might be better if he did, if they did.
“I don’t think it’s quite proper for me to do so Sir Theodore. At least not yet, there is still the business side of our nuptials to discuss with my father.” She’d nearly said arrangement and caught herself just in time, but that at least would have been more honest.
“If you’re quite sure, Judith?” His regret sounded genuine. “But you must allow me to show you the improvements we’ve made to the house and gardens later.” It was a ridiculous suggestion and one Judith resented. She remembered the house fondly from when the Milburs had owned it, a lot more tatterdemalion and far more welcoming. Now the expense lavished on Horsley Hall couldn’t disguise that in this case newer and brighter did not equal better. When she failed to respond Sir Theodore seemed to be at a loss and an awkward silence fell between them.
“Now we should rejoin our respective parents. They will be anxious to hear our news.” The temptation to murmur ‘Yes Theo’ submissively was almost compulsive. Except Sir Theodore probably wouldn’t recognise sarcasm when he heard it. What was wrong with her anyway, this wasn’t the time for levity. She was committing her future to this man’s vision of marrying into social acceptability and she was making jests about it?
Judith caught sight of her face in the mirror over the ornate sideboard, a sad mixture of resignation and resentment. Is that what Sir Theodore could see in her? If it were it was little wonder he seemed so uncertain just now. She realised he was staring at her. “Well Judith?”
“Of course, Theo.” Why did she feel like a traitor just for using his name without the honorific? Whatever reservation she felt, her betrothed didn’t share it. Sir Theodore’s face lit up like a small boy’s and he nearly danced forward to open the door to the hall for her. Could she tolerate this for the rest of her life? But what choice was there?
One person without any doubts whatsoever was the dowager Lady Horsley. She was gushing with delight and nothing could stop her taking Judith by the arm to express her delight in the most fulsome terms. Everything she could wish for her son, dreams fulfilled, best to let the men have their little talk about terms. Judith couldn’t leave them to it, her father’s face looked tragic and she eavesdropped shamelessly, fending Florinda Horsley off with half her attention. Sir Theodore was being surprisingly delicate about the legal formalities and entirely amenable to whatever father was suggesting. Despite herself Judith felt a rush of gratitude that he was being so kind to her father.
“And of course Theo’s ball must become a betrothal ball. That will just be perfect. Nothing could please me more. You, there.” Lady Horsley gestured at the maid waiting uncertainly by the stairs. “Fetch me the invitations for the ball from my parlour. Judith, by a fortunate chance the invitations have not yet gone out. We can amend them here and now.”
“I’m sure it’s not necessary for me to be involved, Lady
Horsley. It is still your ball after all.” Part of her shrank from the embarrassment that was bound to be involved in this. Another part gloried in the thought of Thomas Stainford being made to dance at her betrothal ball. If he deigned to attend. But then if he thought of the battalion as his he couldn’t very well stay away could he? Maybe he simply wouldn’t care.
“Nonsense my dear, And you must call me Florinda. We’re family now aren’t we?”
The invitations when they came were over embossed, gilt edged and enough to convince anyone that Sir Theodore Horsley’s Regimental Ball was not for the discerning. Florinda clearly thought them ideal for their new purpose with the addition of some stylised script to inform recipients that the occasion would now celebrate the social match of the year. Judith quailed and twisted and finally hated herself for capitulating to Florinda Horsley’s execrable taste. After all if they were family now she should be able to object shouldn’t she?
“Theo has always been punctilious over etiquette, Judith.” As well you might be when the ton gossiped that your father bought his baronetcy with sugar syrup. Judith stopped her train of thought there, she was in position to take the social high ground. “Watch what you’re about you silly girl.”
The young maid had let the folder of invitations slip and Judith recoiled from the tone of Florinda’s rebuke. But it was from Sir Theodore’s angry step forward that the maid flinched.
Three times on their way home Jonathon Hampton raised his head to catch his daughter’s eye. Three times she let his gaze slip away without answering the question in his face.
Chapter 11
The seat of the Horsleys was ablaze with lanterns, lighting the whole of the drive and the front of the house. Music, with the unmistakable strains of the bagpipes droning amongst it, flooded out from open windows to absorb new arrivals into the jollifications. The doors were flung back to admit the world, and the heat that blasted them on entry spoke of profligacy on a scale unheard of at Oakenhill.
‘Theodore is very proud of his Scottish ancestry, Judith. On his mother’s side. I can trace back my line for generations through the chieftains of our clan.’ In the last week Lady Horsley had become a frequent visitor to Oakenhill and she tried hard, very hard, to embrace Judith into the glory of her prospective new family. Judith tried hard, very hard, not to respond that being descended from a line of bare-shanked castle rustlers was nothing to be proud of.
“Sir Theodore intends to entertain in the grand style, John.” Jonathon Hampton spoke with an intonation that betrayed his irritation, and Judith could read his thoughts too easily. In this din it would be difficult to find a quiet spot for cards. The music was simply too loud. The decorations also spoke of relentless effort, bunting in at least four different tartans clashed around the cornices of the entrance hall.
They arrived to an unedifying crush. Obviously far too many people had been invited. Little trouble to her parent since his invariable routine was to disappear to the whist tables within ten minutes of arrival. Little trouble to John either since his militia cronies would provide amiable drinking companions, and no mamma in her right mind would be pushing her little angel in the direction of the impecunious Hampton heir. But Judith would have to dance and endure tedium, halitosis and trampled toes.
Sir Theodore Horsley’s bulky frame was for once a considerable assistance. He had been loitering at the doorway, presumably waiting for them, and took them up, easing their entry to the crowded hall. Judith found herself actually meaning the polite words of thanks she uttered. Though less enthusiastic when he began chattering away.
“Judith, my dear, you must allow me the privilege of claiming my dances before these young officers fill your card.”
Judith smiled automatically, though it took effort not to clench her teeth when Sir Theodore unerringly homed in on the only waltz on the program for his and picked the cotillion before supper as well. She would find it difficult to disengage before they went in for the meal. But she would manage it. “We shall of course open the ball Judith. I suppose it would be out of the question for me to claim a fourth dance, my dear?” There was an entreaty to his question which made her pause. It didn’t seem like the mock flirtation she would have expected, his smile left little doubt of his earnest, and Judith found herself feeling ever so slightly flattered at the depth of his interest.
“That would be quite improper, Sir Theodore. I must keep back dances for the other gentlemen.” Of whom father, brother, and father’s card playing cronies would feature prominently, whether they claimed the dances awarded to them or not.
“I intend to announce our betrothal just before supper, Judith.” She had expected something like that, the mere fact that the invitations set out the earth shattering news couldn’t be relied upon to inform the guests of their betrothal. So she would have to smile and cringe in front of all their neighbours and friends.
“Judith!” Amelia Forbury’s excited, girlish squealing could have been designed to move obdurate gentlemen along. Judith knew that it was, for she and Amelia had made their pact at sixteen, and her friend was now fulfilling the role of loyal ally to perfection. “What a lovely dress, my dear. You must introduce me to your seamstress.” It would have taken a thicker skin than Sir Theodore’s to resist, and he moved off with the good grace of the superfluous male to greet more of his guests.
“You are an angel, Amelia.” Judith was grateful that she and her friend had never set an expiry date upon their pact of mutual assistance. “Thank you for the rescue.”
“I wasn’t sure if it should apply to your betrothed, Judith. But I mean it about your dress. What have you done? It looks superb.”
In this at least Judith had no need to fib. The plain blue silk had always been a favourite ball gown, and two subtle alterations had performed a transformation. The tambour embroidery on the skirt lent a glamour the dress hadn’t possessed even when it was new, and the light blue inserts to the shoulders provided a fashionable flair to the old favourite. Only the broad and square neckline remained to betray its venerable origins, and Judith cared enough little for that. It was far preferable for county society than arriving as an Ottoman odalisque, however appropriate she might feel that to be.
As she stood with Amelia sipping at a glass of wine Judith cast around her. There were a surprising number of people she didn’t know and an uncertain ambience. Given the preponderance of regimentals the boisterous atmosphere wasn’t surprising, but the behaviour of some of the young officers was. Their excited flocking to the prettier of the guests led more than one papa to vexed words, but Sir Theodore affected to see nothing wrong. He was circulating gaily, roaring with laughter at his own sorties, and impervious to any relief exhibited when he moved on. To Sir Theodore Horsley, Baronet, this ball was the epitome of his social success.
“Sir Theodore seems in good heart, Miss Hampton.” The intonation to Lady Felicity Crozier’s words was enough to make Judith think of defending him despite her own distaste for his braying behaviour. “He is ebullient, is he not?”
Judith smiled and chose not to respond, but a reply for Lady Felicity came from behind her. “Sir Theodore is enjoying the occasion, Lady Felicity. As well he might. It is a year since my son raised the Volunteers and that deserves celebration. Let alone the occasion of his betrothal.”
“Lady Horsley.” Felicity Crozier, whose son’s commission was in the cheapest and most unfashionable of regiments, could only nod and escape.
“Judith, I hope you will be favouring Theodore with some of your dances this evening.” Amelia had positioned herself out of Lady Horsley’s line of sight, and was bidding fair to outdo the subalterns for disrespect, so that it was all Judith could do not to smile and betray her friend’s mocking.
“I shall look forward to our dances, Florinda.” The thought of breaching the boundaries of etiquette by a swift denunciation of the Horsleys’ manners was gravely tempting, but the urge was vanquished by the sight of her father coming tetchily towards her.
“Can’t find the tables, m’dear.” On the face of it this was a preposterous claim when all round the walls of the hall and the ballroom beyond were tables laden with every variety of nibble and refreshment. By the confusion her face registered Lady Horsley obviously though so.
“My father, like so many of the gentlemen, cannot be tempted from his cards even by the finest of music and the prettiest of partners, Florinda.” It took the woman an unconscionable time to grasp the issue, though when she did servants were sent scuttling with commendable speed. Judith then had the comfort of watching her father round up three like minded souls and disappear in the direction of the library. Florinda Horsley was still beaming her gratitude when Judith’s peace was assailed again.
“Good evening, Miss Hampton.” It was said with a measured assurance that made it impossible for her to do anything but turn and smile no matter how fast her heart was made to race.
“Major Stainford.” She had to say more than that. Both Amelia and Florinda Horsley were watching her with keen interest. “Are you enjoying the ball? A change from drill.”
“A fine ball. Perhaps not so very far from drill when you see some of the steps performed by the less skilled.” Judith could see that Florinda Horsley was a twitch away from a snort at this censure on her son’s regiment. Amelia must have seen it too for she took their hostess by the arm to turn her attention away from Judith and her companion.
“I hadn’t expected to see you here tonight.” That was patently untrue, she had expected to see him, given the ball’s original provenance as a celebration of the regiment’s completion of training he could hardly have stayed away. So in truth she had expected to see him, just at a distance watching resentfully while she danced and flirted.
“This is hardly Oakenhill, Judith, so I didn’t expect your stricture to apply. Nevertheless if my presence causes you annoyance I shall withdraw.” Impossible man, she couldn’t ask him to do that and she could see Florinda Horsley keeping a very watchful eye on them over Amelia’s shoulder. What she needed to do was rid herself of him without delay. The chill she’d felt on hearing him speak was threatening to become a trembling fit and Judith could feel her brain turning to mush as he stood staring down at her. Damn Thomas Stainford, why did he have to appear where he wasn’t wanted?