Lord Exmouth's Intentions

by Anne Ashley

  That relaxed and easy-going manner of the Dowager's was extremely deceptive. It might lead one to suppose that she happily existed in a world of her own for the most part, content to let the more mundane day to day events pass her by; whereas, in fact, very little escaped her notice.

  'Yes—er—well, as I mentioned to him last night,' she hurriedly continued, 'I would never marry simply for security and to acquire a home of my own.'

  'Did you really say that to my son?' Lady Exmouth appeared genuinely impressed. 'Good for you, child!'

  Robina stared across the breakfast table, puzzled by this surprising reaction to her disclosure. Surely, if Lady Exmouth continued to retain the hope of a marriage between her son and the Vicar of Abbot Quincey's daughter, she ought not to be happy to learn that the girl whom she considered highly suitable for a future daughter-in-law could not be persuaded to marry for either wealth or rank? Perhaps the Dowager had undergone, a change of heart since her arrival in Brighton, and had come to the conclusion that her son and the vicar's daughter simply wouldn't suit, Robina mused, unexpectedly experiencing a feeling of bitter disappointment, and quickly changed the subject by enquiring if they could expect a visit from Lady Tolliver.

  'Good gracious, child! I would never attempt to predict what that madcap niece of mine plans to do. She's a law unto herself!'

  Disappointment was swiftly replaced by a strong feeling of resentment, as an image of Lady Tolliver, clinging like a limpet to Daniel's arm the previous evening, suddenly appeared before Robina's mind's eye.

  'Daniel gave me the distinct impression that he is very fond of his cousin, ma'am,' she remarked in a casual tone, while desperately striving to control the wealth of strange sensations welling up inside. 'They are—er—more like brother and sister, didn't you say?'

  'They always seemed so to me, and yet... Oh, I don't know, dear.' Her ladyship's lips curled into a reminiscent smile. 'I suppose at one time I imagined they might make a match of it. Arabella has no looks to speak of, but she has many other wonderful qualities to compensate for lack of beauty. She's intelligent and witty, and so full of life.' She shook her head, her smile quickly fading. 'I'm afraid, though, she could never compete with Clarissa, at least not in looks... Very few females ever could.'

  Learning this ought to have improved Robina's state of mind; perversely, it did not. For some obscure reason she seemed incapable of controlling that unwholesome feeling of resentment. If anything it was increasing to encompass both Lady Tolliver and the late Lady Exmouth.

  'Strangely enough Arabella was one of the very few people who thought Daniel was making a mistake in marrying Clarissa,' Lady Exmouth divulged, thereby instantly regaining Robina's full attention. 'And I do not believe her opinion was fuelled by jealousy. She genuinely seemed to feel that they would not suit. Of course there were others, like my good friend Sir Percy, who voiced their feelings of unease too, but their objections in the main stemmed from the fact that they considered Daniel too young for marriage.'

  'What were your niece's objections, ma'am?' Robina prompted when the Dowager, with a faraway look in her eyes, fell silent once more. 'Did she ever offer an explanation for her disapproval?'

  'No, I do not recall that she ever did, my dear. She and Clarissa played together a great deal when children, so Arabella knew her very well.' She shrugged. 'Perhaps my niece perceived something in Clarissa's nature that she didn't quite like. After all, no one is perfect. We all have our faults, little idiosyncrasies that others find irritating.'

  This was certainly true. Robina had always been very close to her sisters, and loved them all dearly, but that didn't mean that she was blind to their faults, or did not find them quite annoying on occasions.

  It would have been interesting to discover precisely what flaw Arabella had perceived in the late Lady Exmouth's nature, but as the Dowager evidently didn't know, there was little point in pursuing the subject, so Robina changed the conversation once again by remarking, 'From what Lady Tolliver was saying last night, 1 gained the distinct impression that her husband was a good deal older than herself.'

  'Yes, dear, he was. It must be a trait with the females in my family to prefer older men. As I believe I've mentioned before, Daniel's dear papa was a good deal older than myself. Arabella's papa was much older than my sister, and Arabella herself married a gentleman old enough to be her own father.' Smiling, she shook her head. 'I must confess that I was surprised when my niece agreed to accept Sir Henry's proposal. She was always such a lively girl, never still for a moment, and I suppose I expected her to choose some dashing young blade. But no, she chose the quiet and dignified Sir Henry, whose only son was several months her senior.

  'Surprisingly enough she adapted very quickly to married life, and settled down well in Devonshire. No matter what impression she may have given last night, she was touchingly devoted to Sir Henry, and utterly heartbroken when he died. She's still a relatively young woman, and I would like to think that she might one day marry again and have children, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if she did not.' She gave an unexpected gurgle of laughter. 'It isn't likely that too many gentlemen would be willing to put up with my niece's madcap ways.'

  Perhaps not, Robina thought, trying to quell the sudden acrid taste rising in her throat by swallowing a mouthful of coffee, but one gentleman certainly gave the distinct impression last night that he might be willing to try.

  In an attempt to rid herself of the totally unexpected melancholy state of mind which was increasingly plaguing her of late, Robina decided to pay a call on her friend Olivia. She would have much preferred to venture forth on her own, but as she knew that the Dowager, whose complacency did not stretch so far as to approve of young ladies wandering about the streets of towns and cities on their own, would deplore such behaviour, Robina asked Nancy, the young parlour-maid, to accompany her.

  She arrived at the fashionable house Olivia's new brother-in-law had hired for the duration of their stay in Brighton to discover that her friend had had a similar idea, and had gone out for a walk. Olivia's sister Beatrice, however, was at home and, delighted by the unexpected visit, ordered refreshments to be brought to the front parlour at once.

  For a while they discussed yet again the startling events which had taken place in recent weeks in Northamptonshire, before they went on to talk about more recent news—Hester Perceval's surprising betrothal, and the engagements of several other of their mutual acquaintances. Beatrice then went on to laughingly remark that she, didn't suppose for a moment that it would be too long before her very welcome visitor found herself well and truly caught in parson's mousetrap, a suggestion which caused the most uncomfortable ache in a certain region beneath Robina's ribcage.

  She swiftly assured her charming hostess that she had formed no attachment, and that it was much more likely that Olivia would be the next one to find herself engaged, a suggestion which instantly brought a troubled look into the new Lady Ravensden's eyes.

  Robina was well aware that Beatrice was no fool, and that she had probably been aware for as long as Robina had herself that Olivia had been showing a marked interest in a certain Captain Jack Denning.

  Having by this time met the gentleman on several occasions, Robina had decided that she rather liked him. He was undoubtedly handsome, and every young girl's idea of the dashing storybook hero, she supposed, which made her momentarily ponder anew on why she, unlike her friend Olivia, had never been particularly attracted to him.

  There was no denying that he had a darkly brooding air. He had earned himself the reputation of being abrupt on occasion, and there had also been considerable gossip in certain quarters concerning a rift between himself and other members of his family which, quite naturally, might cause Beatrice some concern, if she supposed that her young sister's affections were genuinely engaged.

  This, however, was none of her affair, even though she did consider herself a friend of the family, and she had no intention of prying or becoming involved in matte
rs which were really none of her concern. So she tactfully turned the conversation to less personal issues, and a short while later declared that it was time she took her leave.

  Although declining Beatrice's kind invitation to await Olivia's return, Robina decided not to go directly back to Daniel's house, and took a detour through the centre of the town, which certainly pleased the young parlour-maid.

  Nancy, it quickly became apparent, enjoyed nothing more than gazing through shop windows to stare with wide, admiring eyes at the beautifully trimmed dresses and bonnets. Robina, on the other hand, could work up little enthusiasm, and was in the process of trying to persuade her dawdling companion to increase her pace, when she heard her name being called in a bright, cheerful voice. Surprised, she turned to discover a very smart open carriage drawing to a halt a matter of a few yards away.

  'Good day to you, Miss Perceval,' the instantly recognisable sole occupant of the carriage greeted her, as Robina approached. 'Can I tempt you to accompany me about the town. I intended to call on Aunt Lavinia, so shall see you safely home afterwards.'

  To have refused would have seemed churlish. Furthermore, Lady Tolliver seemed genuinely pleased to see her. Robina wished she could have said the same, for Daniel's cousin had given her no reason whatsoever to take her in dislike.

  Her conscience began to prick her, for she was very well aware that the Vicar of Abbot Quincey would have been most disappointed in his eldest daughter if he ever thought for a moment that she was capable of feeling antipathy without a very good reason.

  'I should be delighted to accept,' she responded, desperately striving to sound as though she truly meant it, and then turned to the young maid, who declared that she was more than happy to continue walking, providing Miss Perceval had no objection.

  'Just like the maids back home,' Arabella declared, after ordering her coachman to move on. 'They all seem to derive a great deal of pleasure from gaping into shop windows. Quite understandable, I suppose! Most young women enjoy looking at frills and furbelows.' Her eyes narrowed as she suddenly subjected her companion to a penetrating stare. 'You, on other hand, did not appear to be enjoying yourself.'

  Robina, returning that steady gaze, realised suddenly that Lady Tolliver and the Dowager had much more in common than a mere family resemblance. Both ladies, it seemed, were acutely observant.

  Deciding it might be wise not to attempt to deny it, she said, 'I had my fill of gazing into shops during my stay in London.' She shrugged. 'It is very nice to be able to wear and own pretty things, but I'm afraid I'm one of those people who cannot work up much enthusiasm for possessions, Lady Tolliver.'

  'A rare female, indeed,' Arabella murmured, before suggesting that formality cease between them. 'I hope you will call me Arabella, for I fully intend to address you by your given name. I do so hate unnecessary reserve, so we may as well start as we mean to go on, don't you think?'

  Evidently taking the silence for agreement, Arabella looked about her with interest. 'Good heavens!' she exclaimed, suddenly, catching sight of a familiar figure in a passing carriage. 'Isn't that Lady Milverton? What a quiz of a hat!' Chuckling wickedly, she turned her attention back to Robina. 'So, how are you enjoying your stay in Brighton?'

  'Very much. Both Daniel and his mother have been so very kind, giving up so much of their time to keep me entertained. Daniel has even taken the trouble to teach me how to handle the ribbons.'

  Arabella appeared genuinely impressed. 'My, my, wonders will never cease! Daniel must indeed think highly of you, my dear, to permit you to handle his precious horses. He always flatly refused to allow me to take charge of the ribbons whenever we ventured out together in the past. And I'm positive he never allowed his wife to drive herself about. Not that Clarissa would ever have considered learning how to handle a spirited pair,' she went on to divulge. 'Her interests, I'm afraid, were very limited.'

  There had been no hint of malice in Arabella's voice. She had sounded quite matter-of-fact when disclosing those latter details, and yet something told Robina that Lady Exmouth had possibly been right when she had suggested that Arabella had not held the late Lady Exmouth in the highest esteem. It was also quite possible that Arabella had, indeed, secretly hoped to marry Daniel, and had resented the woman who had thwarted her ambition.

  'You knew Daniel's late wife quite well, I understand,' she ventured in an attempt to discover a little more.

  'Ha! So dear Aunt Lavinia has been discussing me, has she,' Arabella responded, a little knowing smile tugging at her full lips. 'She would! Yes, I knew Clarissa very well. I frequently paid visits to her home whenever I stayed at Courtney Place. We rubbed along together extremely well considering we had little in common. I was very much the tomboy, and enjoyed nothing better than climbing trees, and getting into all sorts of mischief, whereas dear Clarissa was very much the demur, young lady, quite happy to pass all her spare time sewing or drawing, or sitting at the pianoforte.'

  The full lips curled into yet another effortless smile. 'She was certainly far more proficient at the so-called female accomplishments than I ever was, or ever could be for that matter,' she freely admitted. 'But she displayed precious little enthusiasm for much else, except perhaps socialising. Clarissa enjoyed being the centre of attention. To give her her due she wasn't in the least vain, but, I suppose, being so strikingly lovely, she had grown accustomed over the years to being the object of almost every gentleman's attention.'

  She sighed, and after a moment added, 'Perhaps it was for the best that she died when she did. Her looks would undoubtedly have faded in time, and she would, I very much fear, have turned into one of those devilishly dull faded beauties who spend all their time lying on a couch, imagining that they have every sort of illness, while enjoying the doting attention of some foolish female companion.'

  She laughed suddenly, an infectious gurgle that surprisingly had Robina chuckling too. 'Dear me, how old cattish I sound! Anyone listening to me would imagine that I disliked Clarissa, whereas in fact I liked her very well. She was immensely sweet and kind, and of course very, very lovely. I was not in the least surprised when Daniel became infatuated. Most gentlemen who met her fell instantly under her spell. But I was very surprised when he decided to marry her.. .1 wonder how long it took him before he realised his mistake?'

  Robina gaped in astonishment. Fortunately Arabella's attention was once again claimed by an acquaintance waving to her from a passing carriage, and by the time she turned back, Robina had succeeded in schooling her features.

  'I must say, it is good to see Daniel enjoying life again. I wasn't able to attend Clarissa's funeral,' Arabella disclosed, glancing briefly at the golden band on her left hand. 'Dear Henry was fading fast at the time. He never fully recovered from that final attack, and died just a few months after Clarissa. Daniel came to his funeral. I was deeply shocked at the change in him. Now he seems a completely different man, happier than I've seen him look in years, I'm pleased to say. Though why in heaven's name I should continue to concern myself about the wretched creature I'll never know!'

  Dark eyes, twinkling with mischief, turned towards Robina again. 'He's dragging my dear Roderick off to watch some fearful bout of fisticuffs the day after tomorrow, and leaving me quite without a protector. But I flatly refuse to wait at home for their return, so I've decided to organise an alfresco breakfast at some picturesque spot. Do say you'll make up one of the party. I'm determined to get to know you a good deal better, and determined too, that we shall become firm friends.'

  Robina was not so very certain that they would ever become that close, and was even less certain why she felt that it might be wise to remain a little aloof where Lady Tolliver was concerned, for she was undeniably a most likeable woman whose innate honesty Robina could not help but admire.

  That evening, when she saw Arabella again at a party given by yet another of the Dowager's close acquaintances, Robina began to feel even less inclined to make a friend of the lively widow.

 
When Lady Exmouth had mentioned, just before setting out, that she had received a note from her son expressing his regret that he now found himself unable to act as their escort, Robina had thought it most strange, for she had long since considered Daniel a man of his word. When he had pledged to do a certain thing, he invariably did do it.

  As she entered Lady Maitland's stylish drawing-room, however, she understood fully why he had decided to break his word. There he stood, looking remarkably relaxed and happy, amidst a small group surrounding his lively cousin. There was no sign of Arabella's stepson, Sir Roderick, amongst the guests, and so Robina naturally assumed that Arabella had called upon her cousin's services to escort her to the party and, seemingly, he had been only too willing to oblige.

  Robina could feel that unholy resentment returning again with a vengeance, and seemed powerless to check it. She knew she was reacting like some overindulged child to feel so aggrieved. Daniel had every right to escort whomsoever he chose. She was painfully aware, too, that she was being thoroughly selfish in begrudging him time with his cousin, but for some obscure reason she couldn't help feeling as she did.

  She tried her level best to appear pleased to see him when he did eventually notice their presence and came across the room to greet them, but it was an effort, and it showed. Daniel instantly detected the faint brittle note in her voice, and asked outright if she was feeling quite well.

  'Yes, dear, you do look a little flushed,' the Dowager put in before Robina could assure him that she was perfectly all right. 'I sincerely trust you haven't taken Lady Phelps's chill. What an inconsiderate creature Augusta has become! Fancy paying morning calls when one's eyes and nose are streaming, and one is forever sneezing! I wouldn't be at all surprised if we are not both forced to take to our beds within the next few days.'

  Aware that if she remained, she might foolishly betray the resentment she seemed powerless to control, Robina scanned the room, frantically searching for a means of escape, and thankfully discovered one. 'Oh, there's Olivia Roade Burton, with her sister. I paid a visit to them this morning, but unfortunately Olivia had gone out. Would you both excuse me whilst I go and have a word with my friend? I haven't seen her for days.'