An Unconventional Courtship

by Becky Lower

  “Why, hello, Mr. Fitzpatrick,” Charlotte announced. “You remember Emma and Theo, don’t you? And this is our friend William Hedges.”

  “Good afternoon, Miss Ashcroft. We do seem to be running into each other often, don’t we? Do you remember my friend, Jane Weymouth? From the boat races?”

  “Yes, of course. Hello, Miss Weymouth.”

  Jane’s eyes were drawn to the other carriage, but not to Charlotte, George noted. Instead, she was staring at Theo. And he was staring back, just like at the boat races! George should be annoyed at the man for his boldness.

  Charlotte leaned across the carriages and laid a hand on George’s arm. Her touch sent another shiver of excitement through him, and he suddenly didn’t care whom Jane bothered to gaze upon. He placed his hand over Charlotte’s and glanced at her.

  “Yes?”

  “My father and I were just talking about you the other day, Mr. Fitzpatrick. He wants to discuss some investments you recommended at our last meeting. Would tomorrow be convenient?”

  “Certainly, Miss Ashcroft. I’ll put it on my calendar and see you then.”

  Theo grinned at Jane and dipped his hat as George started the carriage again. His actions vaguely registered with George as inappropriate. But his focus was on Charlotte as they drove off in the opposite direction. He began to count the minutes until tomorrow.

  • • •

  Charlotte snuck a glance over her shoulder as George’s carriage and that dreadful woman, Jane Weymouth, headed in the opposite direction from her. Even with the other woman in attendance, she had managed to touch him, and his muscles had jumped under her hand. Charlotte noticed his jaw was set and a muscle in his cheek twitched as Theodore put his arm around her. She turned to face forward again, smiling to herself.

  The “accidental” encounter could not have gone better if she and Emma had planned it.

  Which, of course, they had.

  She knew George was courting Jane and had been even before their meeting on that fateful Sunday. But now that they had met, she had expected George to drop Jane and dance attendance only on her. The fact that he hadn’t yet done so riled her. That was the real reason for the encounter in the park. Besides wanting to put Theo and Jane together once more, she wanted George to know that he wasn’t the only one who had two people interested. Theo’s arm around her as they departed didn’t have the same impact on her as her hand on George’s arm had done, but it did have the desired effect on George. Charlotte had noticed the tension in his body as he spied Theo’s arm encircling her waist. If he didn’t drop Jane soon and declare himself hers entirely, she would become a raving banshee by fall. She needed to step up her matchmaking attempts between Theo and Jane. Lord knew, she didn’t want Theo.

  Perhaps she needed to discuss things with her mother and talk strategy. Or with Emma. Perhaps her parents needed to have a discussion with George. To let him know, in no uncertain terms, that Charlotte was not a woman to be toyed with. Even though she had been playing with him all along. But she’d now had enough of this fishing expedition. He’d taken the bait, and it was time to reel him in.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “What is the matter with you, young man?”

  George sat in his father’s office, facing the full fury of the man he loved dearly.

  “What do you mean, Father?”

  “You’ve not been able to balance the books all week, and it’s the part of this job you used to be so good at. What’s going on with you?”

  George squirmed in his chair. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better. But my mind has been occupied of late.” With thoughts of Charlotte entertaining Theodore Schoonover at tea, of them bonding over roast beef and mashed potatoes at Delmonico’s, of Theodore kissing her lips, setting her ablaze with emotion and impressing her with his higher education. His thoughts, his jealous thoughts, had been keeping him up nights. Those were his lips to kiss, not Theo’s.

  “Well, by all means, propose to Jane so we can get back to business.” His father’s voice boomed across the desk.

  George glanced up at him. “How do you know I’m preoccupied with a woman?”

  His father dropped his gruff demeanor and smiled at his son. “Do you think I don’t know how it feels to be in love? Your mother was the highlight of my life. From the moment we met, I was certain she would be my wife. It didn’t take us long to get to the altar. I think you and Jane have been dragging out this courtship long enough. It’s past time to ask for her hand.”

  “What if I told you it wasn’t Jane who had won my affections, but Miss Ashcroft instead?”

  “Our client, Miss Ashcroft? How is that possible? You’ve only met her a few times, here in the bank.”

  “No, Father. In fact, I have a hunch her coming here to conduct her business was no accident. She’s a most unusual woman with a great deal of spunk. I met her three months ago, on a Sunday afternoon. We rode the omnibus together, and when one of her mother’s friends spotted her riding the bus and without a proper escort, she grabbed onto me and made me pretend to be an acquaintance of hers.”

  Andrew Fitzpatrick smiled. “She does sound like fun. Well, then, if you’re so tied up in knots over her, I say marry her so we can get back to business. Just let Jane down gently. Her father and I are good friends, and I’d hate to have your actions destroy the relationship.”

  “It’s not as simple as that. Miss Ashcroft has other suitors. Better educated suitors. Perhaps I should give some further thought to going to college.”

  “You don’t need a university education. No book can teach you as much as I can. And you have a natural affinity for numbers when your mind isn’t otherwise occupied. Has she expressed an interest in you?”

  “Yes, we’ve arranged to meet a couple times in the park, and I’ve called on her at her home several times.”

  His father ran his hand over his chin. “So the girl is not adverse to your advances. You must now treat her as if she were a business the bank wants to buy. You’re a smart fellow, George. You know what to do.”

  “You mean, swoop in before anyone else can see her true value, and take her off the market?”

  “I’ve trained you well.” His father’s face filled with pride. “Now, I expect you to make this official before the month is out. And I want you to get back to work and to properly add your sums.”

  “Yes, sir.” George stood and left his father’s office. He had things to do. First, he had to cut his ties with Jane. He hated to hurt her feelings, even though he knew they were not a good match. But what if Charlotte did the same and turned him down? Maybe he’d better keep Jane dangling for now. He ran his hands over his face as he pondered his course of action. No, even if Charlotte denied him her hand, he could not marry Jane. After having tasted life with a fun, spirited woman, a life with meek and mild Jane would never suit. It would be best to end it with her first and then set up a meeting with Charlotte’s father.

  He’d send his card around to the Ashcroft home, requesting a carriage ride with Charlotte tomorrow afternoon. He’d face her father once he was certain of her feelings toward him. He’d done all right with her mother, a somewhat befuddled woman, but one who had a good heart underneath it all. He was certain he could charm Charlotte’s father into allowing him to offer for her hand. His own father was right. The sooner he could take Charlotte off the market and out of the prying clutches of other men, such as Theo, the better he’d sleep at night.

  Just thinking of sleeping at night next to Charlotte made his skin erupt in gooseflesh. Lord, he did have it bad for the girl. He could only hope she reciprocated his feelings, at least to some degree. He’d find out tomorrow, if all went as planned. But first he had to get through dinner with Jane.

  • • •

  George glanced across the table to where Jane Weymouth sat, playing with her food. If she moved her slice of ham from one side of the plate to another one more time, George thought he’d snap at her. She kept stealing glances at him from under her
eyelashes as her father talked of mundane business problems. Jane seemed on edge this evening, as if her skin were too tight over her frame. Perhaps she had picked up on George’s own uncomfortable state. He did wish this ungodly dinner, with its boring conversation, would come to an end. He hated peas, all of a sudden.

  At long last, the dinner wound down, and the dessert plates were placed in front of them. Normally, dessert was George’s favorite part of any meal, but the sweet blueberry cobbler held no interest for him tonight. He just wanted this horrible meal to end so he could talk to Jane privately. Mr. Weymouth finally stood and turned toward George. “My boy, why don’t you and I have a little man-to-man talk in my library?”

  His eyes shot from Jane’s father to her. George certainly preferred her somewhat startled expression to the dour face she’d had all evening, but yet, he sensed he was about to be taken to the gallows. He took a gulp of air, one last sip from his wineglass, and followed Mr. Weymouth from the room.

  They settled in the library with brandy snifters and cheroots, which were ceremoniously lit. Maybe George had mistaken the meaning of this audience. Perhaps Mr. Weymouth only wanted advice on some investment decisions. If George were to leave this evening with his head in his hands, would he have been allowed some of the finest brandy on the planet? And a fragrant cigar? Such extravagances were not bestowed on men who were not held in favor. George eased back in his seat, trying to get comfortable, and took a long puff.

  “So, George. You and my Jane have been seeing each other for months now. Don’t you think it’s time to declare yourself? After all, you’re not the only man vying for her attention.”

  It was George’s turn to have a somewhat startled expression on his face. “I’m not? Forgive my presumption, but your daughter has never mentioned she was seeing another. Then again, she’s had no reason to. Our meetings have not been serious. Our outings have been only once a week and only occasionally without a chaperone.”

  Mr. Weymouth’s cigar darted through the air. “I don’t believe anyone, other than Jane and yourself, are keeping track of how many outings you’ve been on and what is considered proper. The facts about the relationship are very simple. You need a wife to be respectable in the business world, and Jane is a perfect age for you. But she’s also a most lovely child, and other men have taken notice. College men. So, if you want her, you’d best act quickly, before she gives her heart to another.”

  George’s seat suddenly became very uncomfortable. He got to his feet and began to pace around the room. “While I’m in full agreement that I need a wife to be respectable in business, I don’t think Jane and I have enough in common to become a couple.”

  “Nonsense, my boy. Your father and I like each other. You and Jane tolerate each other well enough. Affection will develop over time, as will mutual interests. But Jane would be a fool to turn down the advances of a Harvard man.”

  A Harvard man? The only man he knew fitting that description would be Theodore Schoonover. And he was courting Charlotte, not Jane. Wasn’t he? George’s heart began to pound. Were Theo and Charlotte attempting to put something over on George? Or were Theo and Jane attempting to make him look like an idiot? Or did Theo suddenly decide he had it in for George and made it his business to court the same two women he was, lording his college education over both ladies and making George seem to come up short? He needed to stop his rampant thoughts and bring his mind back to the conversation at hand.

  “We both know Jane is no fool. But I also don’t feel she’d ever base her decision to marry entirely on a man’s education credentials. If she can find someone who will make her smile, then she should follow her heart. The only expression she had for me this evening was one of pain.”

  “Nonsense, George. She just had a case of a nervous stomach this evening because she knew what we were going to discuss after dinner. Jane’s waiting in the drawing room to speak with you now that we’re done.”

  “Are we done?”

  “I know you’ll do what’s best for your family. For our families. We’ve invested a great deal of time in bringing you and Jane together. Your mother handpicked Jane for you prior to her death.”

  “That’s news to me, sir. My mother’s advice to me before she passed on was to be certain I married the right woman, and that I would know immediately whom I should be with. She mentioned nothing of Jane specifically.”

  “Yes, but your mother was not well the last few months, God rest her soul. She most certainly did want you to end up with Jane. So, yes, George, we are done.”

  With careful steps and a spinning head, George moved from the library to the drawing room. He opened the door to find Jane there alone. He kept the door open as he entered the room to face her. She’d been crying. There were tearstains on her cheeks, and her eyes were brimming. Ah, drat. George never knew what to say when a woman cried. He glanced back at the door, hoping her mother would return to the room and run interference on this conversation. But he was alone and about to break her heart. Had she already picked up on his feelings? Was that the reason for her tears? George was thoroughly confused, but he couldn’t leave the room without resolving his relationship with her.

  “Hello, Jane,” he said softly as he took the seat opposite her.

  “George, I’m sorry you had to face Father.”

  “It was nothing. But why are you so sad?”

  “Because I’ve been told, as I’m sure you just have, that we must marry.”

  George raised his eyes to her sharply. “And you don’t want to?”

  Her tears began anew. He handed her his handkerchief.

  “I’m very much in love, George. But I’m sad to say it’s not with you. If we marry each other to suit our parents, I’d consider myself a lucky woman. But I would never be happy.”

  The noose George had been feeling all night began to loosen, and he ran a finger around his cravat. He nearly smiled, but Jane’s tearful expression kept him somber.

  “Well then, who is the lucky gentleman?”

  “It’s Theodore Schoonover.” Jane smiled a bit as her beloved’s name rolled off her tongue. Her voice was hushed, almost as if she were praying.

  “I was unaware you even knew him beyond a few chance encounters when we were together.”

  “We met the day of the boat races. Surely you remember, George. You introduced us.”

  “Well, yes, I remember the meeting. And the chance encounter in the park. But you’ve seen him beyond those times?”

  “He came calling the day after the boat races. I must admit, I was taken with him from the moment I first laid eyes on him. I wanted to curtail the outings between you and me, since I thought I was hurting your chances of finding someone suitable, but Father insisted that we keep seeing each other. His initial impression of Theo was not the best, even with Theo’s Harvard connection, so Father told me I must continue to have you call on me. It made Theo crazy mad with jealousy.”

  George nearly smiled again. Theo was jealous of him? “So he is aware of your feelings toward him?”

  Jane smiled and brushed her hand across her lips. It made George wonder if Jane was recalling a kiss she and Theo had shared. “Yes, he is. He wants to ask for my hand before he goes back to college in the fall. I know it will be a long engagement, since he has one more year left of school, but I’ll gladly wait.” Jane sighed. “I’m sorry, George.”

  “There’s no need for sorrow, Jane. When someone’s right, you need to follow your heart. I’ll find someone soon, too, I hope. And good luck with Theo. Be sure to invite me to the wedding.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Coolness and composure were the sure way to get George to propose, but they were not so easy to pull off when Charlotte’s heart was beating as fast as a runaway horse. George had just picked her up for a ride in the park in his father’s open carriage. He held her hand as he assisted her up into the seat. She adjusted her bonnet as she waited for him to circle the curricle and take his seat beside her. Her body hummed at
his nearness as her eyes followed his course.

  He stopped as he got to each of the two horses, whispered something in their ears, and fed them a sugar cube from his pockets. The process endeared him to her even more. Any man who loved horses was a good person in her book. She hoped his horses would take the carriage to a full trot and pace smartly through the park. What a sight they would make! Two matched bay horses pulling a sporty, burgundy curricle with an attractive couple sitting in it. How much better could life be?”

  George settled in next to her, and she realized life could get a whole lot better. She was already smitten with this man. How much more would it take for her to fall madly, deeply, in love with him? Not much. All he’d have to do would be to touch her, and she feared she’d melt all over him.

  As if in answer to her thoughts, he reached over and took her hand. Her limbs became limp, as if they were overcooked noodles. Not only was he the most attractive man she’d ever met, with his dark hair and eyes as blue as the sky, his thoughts on women’s rights were in line with her own. Their children would grow up in a household where girls would be given a proper education, the same as their sons. And if one of their daughters wanted to follow the family tradition and work in the bank alongside her father, George would most likely be agreeable. But first, he had to propose.

  Her life with him would be an exciting one, keeping on the cutting edge of current events as she hosted his banking clients at fine dinners and balls. And she would be an equal partner in marriage with him. Yes, she could see herself with George for the remainder of her life. From the way he had taken her hand in his, as if he already had laid claim to her, she was certain he harbored the same feelings for her. And if what Emma told her was true about Theo asking for a family heirloom ring so he could propose to Jane Weymouth, George Fitzpatrick’s philandering days were over. Jane would be spoken for before the week ended. There was just one more formality to deal with.