A house in Belgrave Square and a hunting lodge in Leicester completed his property portfolio and gave him enough escape to maintain his sanity. Michael had enjoyed the London life as a gentleman about town, but once he had discovered just how little he enjoyed the fickleness that a title attracted, he very often escaped to Somerset, or to Violet’s home in Hampshire. Sometimes, though, he was forced to come to London and this was where he found himself now. Forced to spend the Season in London because of an agreement his uncle had made years ago. It was this that had put him in the foulest mood he had experienced for a long time. Finally, with a sigh, he accepted that he could not put off the morning any longer and went to greet his solicitor, leaving his valet to mourn over the destruction of so many freshly starched cravats.
Michael entered his library, usually a place he enjoyed spending time, but it offered no pleasure on this morning. He greeted his solicitor in his usual brusque way. “Have you managed to find a way out of this mess for me? Any last minute miracles that will spare me spending the Season in this godforsaken place?” They were the same questions he had been asking over the last few months.
“No, your Lordship, the agreement is immutable; there is no way out of it. The only advantage is that it will last a lot less than a year.”
“From my perspective, that is still an inordinate amount of time ahead of me!” came the disparaging reply.
The solicitor was enjoying this meeting as little as Lord Dunham, and answered a quiet, “Quite so.” The quicker all the details could be finally agreed on, the quicker he could return to the sanctity of his office and leave his Lordship to deal with the situation as he chose.
A few moments later the silence was interrupted by the butler who announced a Miss Elizabeth Rufford and Miss Martha Fairfield. Michael had moved forward slightly to greet the newcomers, but the sight before him stopped him in his tracks. Miss Fairfield was obviously a governess or something similar. She was around thirty, dressed in the grey high-necked dress that was the accepted uniform of a governess, finished with a shawl and bonnet. She had a pleasant face and was as presentable as most of her supposed profession were; the sight that had stopped Michael was Miss Elizabeth Rufford.
Bounding into the room was a vision of purple and orange ruffles and feathers. He had never seen anything like it before in his life. Her dress was of the brightest purple and edged in bright orange ribbons and frills. The hat she wore looked too big and had huge purple and orange feathers coming out of every possible surface. Michael could hardly see the person underneath for the curling feathers. The lady’s figure he could not judge because of the amount of frills and ruffles that surrounded her and he could see no hair from underneath the bonnet. No ringlets framed the lady’s face as was the custom, not a hair was visible and for a split second Michael wondered if she was bald. The only redeeming feature was her eyes; they were hazel in colour and sparkled with laughter as she took in the astonishment of the two gentlemen who stood before her.
“Good morning gentlemen, I hope you are well. When will his Lordship be joining us? I hope he is of a strong constitution!” She laughed and Michael wondered how it was possible that her eyes seemed to sparkle even more.
The solicitor started to speak, but Michael cut him off with a glare. He bowed in greeting, but instead of introducing himself he started with a question. “Why does Lord Dunham need to have a strong constitution?” He asked curiously.
“Well actually I hope he doesn’t,” she answered frankly, but with a mischievous smile. “I’m hoping that one look at me will give him a heart attack and then this silly ward thing will be at an end before it has started.”
Michael raised his eyebrows and said with a drawl. “A little harsh, I think Miss Rufford, wishing to murder your guardian.”
“I don’t wish to murder him. I just want to release us both from this nonsense.”
“His Lordship wishes release as much as you appear to do, I assure you.” Michael responded drily, but with feeling.
“Oh, does he? That’s excellent. I thought he might be one who would try and dictate how I should live my life and how I should act. I never wanted a guardian!” she responded.
“I can assure you that your guardian never wanted a ward.” Michael responded with a shudder.
“My Lord, if you please...” the solicitor interrupted, looking uncomfortable.
Michael sighed. “Miss Rufford, my solicitor seems determined to spoil the sliver of fun in this otherwise extremely tedious day. Please let me introduce my solicitor Mr Hammond, and please allow me to introduce myself, Lord Dunham. I am at your service madam.” Michael finished the introduction with a flourishing bow that any dandy would be proud of.
Elizabeth’s eyes opened wide, she looked from one to the other as if waiting for them to announce that it was a joke. Seeing the expressions on their faces she realised that they were serious. “But you are not old!” she exclaimed, finally accepting that she really was faced with the real Lord Dunham.
“Thank you for the compliment, Miss Rufford,” Michael responded coolly. “I don’t consider myself to be in my dotage quite yet.”
“How can you be my guardian? You cannot have studied with my father when the agreement was made. This must be wrong!” Elizabeth’s sparkling eyes had been replaced with eyes that flashed with frustration, something which amused Michael. It was some comfort to know that he was no longer the only one suffering because of the situation.
“I can confirm that I did not study with your father. My uncle, the previous Lord Dunham, was your father’s friend, and he was the one who made the agreement. Unfortunately for us both I have the same name as my uncle, Michael Thomas George Birchall, Lord Dunham. Your father’s will did not specify which Lord Dunham, just the full name, which I share. Believe me, I have had the legalities checked and double checked. Until your twenty-first birthday, I am your guardian.” Michael spoke as if the whole situation bored him.
“Well that changes everything!” Elizabeth responded after taking a moment or two to absorb the information. “It looks like you have been travelling with a grotesque monster for nothing, Martha.” Elizabeth had turned to her companion and smiled apologetically. She took off the hat and threw it down on a seat. “I’m glad to take that thing off; you would not believe the stares I have received whilst wearing it.”
“Oh I think I would Miss Rufford.” Michael replied with a raise of an eyebrow.
Elizabeth laughed. “All that planning for nothing! Oh damn and blast! What am I going to do now?”
Michael was intrigued by the woman seated before him. He had not known what to expect, but she was proving to be more interesting than he had imagined. She had recovered from news that would have mortified any other lady of his acquaintance and instead of swooning away, had cursed as any man would have done. He still was not happy with the situation and needed to draw things together further so they could be efficiently and quickly sorted out. The less time he needed to spend acting as a guardian the better.
“Would you like to accompany me to the drawing room? We can take some refreshments and discuss what you are going to do while in London.”
He rang for tea and led the way into his drawing room. It was a large square room with two large windows, facing onto the street and allowing in as much light as possible. The fireplace was marble and Adams styled, with two pillars at each side of the fireplace. The mantelpiece was decorated with a central urn and with the characteristic vines stretching out across the marble, it was simple, but stylish. Blue and gold patterned wallpaper adorned the walls with matching material covering the sofas and chairs, and the curtains were of a shimmering gold, bringing out the gold in the furnishings. The room was grand, but so understated that it managed to have a light airy feel to it.
“Oh what a lovely room!” Elizabeth exclaimed, as she sat in one of the chairs. She ran her hand appreciatively down one of the chair arms, the material felt thick and silky to the touch. “The colours are beautiful
. Did your wife choose them?”
“I am not married, and am quite capable of choosing decoration myself.” Michael responded a little harshly, indicating that Miss Fairfield should be seated, before he sat himself in a fireside chair.
“It seems a shame to let me into this room dressed as I am. I must clash terribly!” Elizabeth said with a twinkle in her eyes, but she tried to look remorseful.
“You do.” came the unkind reply. Michael was in no mood to offer empty flattery to the woman before him.
If Michael had expected Elizabeth to be daunted by his manner he was mistaken, she just threw her head back and laughed. “I know! It’s terrible isn’t it? The problem is all my clothes are like this, my purpose was to scare my guardian into sending me away.”
“You are doing an excellent job of achieving your aim Miss Rufford,” Michael said with a shudder. “I dread to think why you wanted to appear as you have.”
Elizabeth started fiddling with her hair as she spoke. “I will be honest with you my Lord; I don’t want to be in London for the Season. I would much rather be allowed to live in the country running an estate, and enjoying myself, rather than being forced to be someone I am not while supposedly looking for a husband.” While talking she had released her hair and shook it out.
Miss Fairfield protested at the action, “Elizabeth please, you should not be attending to your toilette in his Lordship’s drawing room.”
Elizabeth waved Miss Fairfield’s words away and scooped her long dark wavy hair into a loose bun. “Don’t worry yourself Martha, his Lordship won’t mind me making myself slightly more presentable, I’m sure.” Wisps of hair fell out at the sides, which was far more flattering than the harsh bun that had originally been hidden under her hat.
Michael was intrigued. “If you do not wish to have a Season in London, why on earth have you travelled all the way from Lancashire?”
Elizabeth sighed, the first sign of anything but mischievous good humour since she had walked in. “When Papa died three years ago his title, like yours, went to a nephew, Mr Herbert Rufford. I didn’t object or feel aggrieved, as I knew my cousin a little and we had got on well when we were young. He did not want to settle in Lancashire so continued enjoying his life travelling between London and Brighton. He did spend some time on the estate, but I was unofficially in charge. I make a good estate manager!” She said defensively when Michael had looked at her with disbelief.
“I never said a word.” Michael said, amused at the outburst his sceptical expression had caused.
Elizabeth looked as if she did not believe that Michael was not mocking her. “I ran the estate before Papa’s death. He would have preferred to have had a boy and treated me more like one while he was alive. Poor Papa, he never remarried after mother died, so he was destined to be disappointed, by just having me.”
She said her words in such a matter of fact way that Michael had to admire her stoicism. He had grown up being secure in his relative’s affections, even through his father’s illness, and had never felt the effects of someone being disappointed with him. Something bordering on compassion stirred in him, but he quickly dismissed it, and carried on listening to her story.
“I’m sure he appreciated you in his own way.” he said, an uncommonly reassuring comment from the distant Lord Dunham.
“Possibly, but I will never truly know,” came the candid reply. “When I reached the age that I should have come out, I noticed that Papa did not seem to be in his usual good health. I begged him not to bring me to London that year. It did not matter about putting my Season off, as I didn’t want to come anyway. Having a Season has never really appealed to me. As it happened it was fortunate we did not travel, Papa deteriorated and was ill for months before he passed away. I am forever thankful that he died at home, not in some damp lodging house in London.”
“Why did you not come to London after your period of mourning?” Michael had only heard of the agreement a few months prior, but he had been informed that Elizabeth’s father had died over three years ago.
“When it became apparent that Herbert did not want to manage the estate I offered to do it for him. I’m far cheaper than employing an official estate manager so it was an offer he would have been a fool to refuse. It suited me too, it meant that I could put off going to London indefinitely and still live in the area I loved. I knew Herbert would marry one day, but when I did meet his new wife I realised almost immediately what would happen.”
“Did she resent your presence?”
“Yes, how did you guess?” Elizabeth smiled ruefully. “At first I had thought that things would go on as normal, but I had not taken Miranda into account. Miranda! I mean to say, what sort of a name is Miranda? It’s a doll’s name! Believe me, she may have looked like a doll with her golden curls and blue eyes, but she had the viciousness of a cat when moving in for the kill. She saw me as a threat even though I had made the estate extremely profitable. I had to go and that was that.”
“As simple as that?” Michael asked, a little admiring of the woman who had taken on this energetic creature sitting before him.
“Yes. She had the perfect get out clause didn’t she? I had a guardian who was responsible for me and I had never had a Season in London. As she put it, even someone like me should be able to attract some sort of husband; after all, I have my two thousand a year. She informed me that men would put up with anything for that amount of money. So here I am.” Elizabeth shrugged with her final words.
Michael had detected no bitterness, but some hurt in the words, and again he felt a little compassion for Elizabeth. It was not her fault that she was not wanted by her family. This type of situation happened regularly and the wardship was not her doing. “So are you looking for a husband?” Two thousand a year would guarantee that she would receive many offers of marriage, even dressed as she was at the moment.
“I was hoping to persuade my guardian to let me establish myself somewhere in the country,” Elizabeth explained. “I don’t know the ways of society; I have never lived in it. I am happier in the countryside. I could buy a farm and run it myself, I would be self-sufficient and no trouble to anyone.”
“That would be seen as quite eccentric.” For some reason Michael did not want her ridiculed by society, but that would be guaranteed if she mentioned in wider society, ideas such as running her own estate.
“Who would I be harming?” Elizabeth asked, looking at him candidly.
“No one, in truth.” Michael admitted reluctantly.
“Will you help me then?” She asked hopefully.
Michael thought carefully. In many respects it would be the perfect solution, and the easy way out of her being his ward. He would not have to do more than help her find an estate and then make sure things were in place, perhaps to offer support if she needed it. He could then return to his life as it had been before he had been told of his burden.
Something held him back though, whether it was the sparkle that he had seen in her eyes that had drawn him to her initially, he did not know. It could have been the hurt in her voice when she had referred to what had been said about her lack of ability to attract a husband, which had struck something deep within him. He had felt the stirrings of something he did not recognise, all he knew was that he wanted to make things better for her.
He knew how it was to feel that you were just being courted for your fortune. Many Society families would have been reluctant to link to his family because of his father’s illness, but once the fortune was in place, anything, even madness, could be overlooked. He had known what it was like to enjoy London though. It had been a pleasant experience sometimes. He could hardly believe his own mind when he became convinced that perhaps she should stay after all.
“I will help you.” he finally said.
“Oh good. I have heard of an estate in Yorkshire, it is known locally as Home Farm. It is in need of a lot of work, but it means that I could afford to buy it. It would be hard for the first few years, but I am c
onvinced I could turn it around and make it profitable.” Elizabeth babbled, the relief in her voice was evident.
“You have not heard how I will help you,” Michael said raising his hand slightly to stem the flow of ideas. “Don’t worry; I think you will be convinced.” He assured Elizabeth. He had seen disappointment pass quickly across her face; this was a girl who was not used to hiding her emotions like the ladies in society usually did. The more Michael looked at her the more he was convinced she would enjoy herself with his help. “Stay in London for the Season.”
“But I don’t want to, and the estate in Yorkshire will be lost if I don’t act fast.” frustration was all too evident in Elizabeth’s voice.
“I will secure the estate if it is, as you say, a suitable investment. If it is suffering from long term misuse, another year’s neglect will not harm it any more than it has been already. I will have it assessed and see if there are any interim measures which may need to be put in place. In the meantime, you will stay with my sister as we had planned when I became aware of your existence. We will introduce you into Society, and you can enjoy the entertainments of the season. I understand your reluctance, but that should not stop you enjoying yourself at least once in London. You will be under no pressure from me to find a husband. If you find one, all well and good, and if you don’t, at the end of the season you can retire to Yorkshire and have fond memories of your time here.”
Elizabeth looked as if she was going to challenge him at first and met his gaze. She seemed to go from a challenge to a question and then shrugged her shoulders slightly and nodded. “As long as I can be involved in the buying of the estate, and I have your word that I can go to Yorkshire eventually, I will agree to stay in London for the Season.”
An Inconvenient Companion Page 19