The spinster and the wastrel

by Louise Bergin

  losing the fortune he expected, but his anger had flared only briefly before his good humor reasserted itself.

  Attempting to maintain their cordiality, she said, "I will use the money wisely. The school will not be wasteful, and the results will please you."

  He ran a hand through his hair, but its disarrangement still looked fashionable. "You asked me to be a trustee, did you not?"

  Alarm cautioned her. Had she mistaken his amicable air for further trouble? "Yes. Mr. Keller explained it would be customary to have a board overseeing the school. He suggested yourself and the Reverend Brown as members. He has already agreed to be one."

  "I will take you up on your offer," he told her. "As a trustee, I can verify that you are doing as you promised with your school."

  "I keep my word." Annette tugged at her gloves. "Now that my purpose here is finished, I must be going. Thank you for the tea and for agreeing to be one of my trustees."

  "I intend to be a very watchful one," he assured her. "But I believe that if anyone can teach those brats, it will be you."

  Once again, she exchanged smiles with him. Although she had dreaded this meeting with him, Sir Gerard was much easier to deal with than his uncle. His manner was more pleasant, and when necessary, he possessed the grace to admit he was wrong. She thought she would not fear any future encounters with the baronet quite so much. They might even be pleasant.

  For the first time, she looked out the drawing room window. The outside had darkened and lazy snowflakes drifted down. Either she had stayed longer than intended, or that storm cloud had arrived faster than expected. Her

  walk home would certainly be wet and cold. It might even be dangerous. Annette bit her lip. The wisest course would be to ask for a carnage to take her. After all her proclamations about being capable enough to handle the fortune, the prospect galled her. Still, she would speak as she must.

  "1 find 1 must request another favor, sir.'* she said "May 1 borrow a carnage to return me home 0 '

  A frown furrowed Sir Gerard's brow. '"You did not walk here, did you°" he demanded.

  1 did. It is the wa> 1 am used to traveling." she explained. Some of her habits would have to change.

  "You can now afford to keep a coach and horses reminded her.

  "Yes. sir" She agreed and felt laughter beginn. dance within her. "1 will tend to that direct] am home "

  "1 will order my carnage out to tai ad.

  "Thank you." Her grateful demureness did not fool him.

  He waved a finger at her in admonishment "You are a managing woman. Miss Coutdk

  have been told." She tried to remain humbl: again saw the memment in b ^"hat wa

  about this man thai made her want t.

  He shook his head "To make certain you arnve home safely. 1 will escort you in the coach "

  He .lened. "Without a chaperon

  not turn missish on itu now Miss Courtney A woman with your strength of character has u. as a

  chaperone."

  looked at him a little uncertainly She had intended to request a nde home from him. but it had been no pan ol her plans that he would come along In too mai

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  However, he was not indistinct like a shadow. She was very aware of his presence in the carriage.

  With a jolt, they jerked forward and the trip began. To himself, Sir Gerard smiled with amusement. In the gloom, he could see Miss Courtney sitting stiff as a poker, her hands tightly clasped on her lap. He doubted she held them there for warmth. A typical spinster, thinking every man ready to attack her. She was safe in his company. He preferred his women to be far more sophisticated and witty. Yet, this one held his fortune, so he would woo her as if she were someone other than a managing old maid.

  He began a conversation with his companion just as if they were seated at a fashionable dinner party. "Have you lived all your life in Upper Brampton?"

  "Almost all of it. When I was very young, my father obtained this living. After he died, my mother and I continued here because it was familiar and my mother became ill."

  "Your father was the rector?" he inquired politely. "When was that?"

  "He died about twelve years ago." She sighed. "He was a very good man and taught me to care for my fellow man."

  "A good lesson for a rector to teach," he commented. "Your father must have been here when I was sent to live with my uncle after my parents died."

  "Did you ever meet him?" Excitement tinged her voice as if she were eager to share her father with him. "Was he the one who prepared you in your studies before you went off to school? Or did you have a private tutor' 7 "

  In spite of himself. Sir Gerard laughed. Her assumptions about his uncle's care were so wide of the mark. "No, Miss Courtney, there was no private tutor nor did I

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  doubled her idea of a school would work. The ■ is I:«: pent

  "I hope you will care for your people better." she said. Through the shadows, he could feel her gaze upon him.

  judged whether or not he up. Tub time, though, she asked about something he had long wanted to do. He had waited his wh o l e life to Unw the baronet so he could be the one to

  1 want to help them." be told her. The sincerely made declaration fek good because it was the truth. He had not forgotten the lessons Nat the groom taught ton inthesta-

  "There is much that needs doing. I am glad you are not like your uncle portrayed yon. He was very wrong, and Upper Brampton is very fortunate you are the

  for his h was not only his uncle who named him a wastrel: there were those in Inarlnu who looked down on htm for his avoidance of betting. He in the outrageous dares thai amused the i of his set. He had only gone to Mortimer Wallace for an advance to celebrate his first chance to fully participate in society's folbes. The actual foDy was how Ins lack of foresight caused turn to gamble so waste full > before the

  to rain her positive image of ton by

  "I have been away in order to avoid my uncle." Sir Gerard told her. "I will need advice on bow to help these people, and I believe yon are the one capable of

  me."

  In his anger and fear, he exploded. "Forget your school for a moment! I need the money. You must give it back to

  OT.A "

  me.

  She did not shrink from him. Even though he could not see her eyes, he knew her gaze stared directly at him without fear. "Your uncle left the money to me. I will use it for my school and elsewhere—to help the unfortunate. I will be responsible for it. You can spend your money on the estate. It brings in quite a bit in rent."

  He nearly laughed. Or was it a sob? He did not know or care. She thought he had other resources. How could she know he faced ruin for his debts? The estate had no rents coming due any time soon. His uncle had died after the quarter payments were made, and those monies were part of the fortune this spinster inherited. Hathaway Hall's farms would not provide any income until the next quarter. He could not wait that long.

  "Miss Courtney, please, can we not come to a settlement? By all rights, that money belongs to me. I am willing to be reasonable and leave an ample amount in your care. I will even fund your school," he added desperately.

  "I appreciate your offer," she said, "but my school is already fully funded."

  The carriage jerked to a halt. They had arrived at her home. The servant climbed down and opened the door. She gathered her skirts and stepped out. Before leaving, she turned to curtsy to him. "Thank you for the ride home. I am grateful I did not have to walk and shall check into acquiring a carriage of my own."

  Then the door slammed shut, and he was alone. The blackness in the carriage was nothing compared the blackness of the abyss of ruin before him. All his life he waited

  to be in this position of respect, yet because of a miserly old man and the stubbornness of one woman, his dreams would be destroyed.

 
The carriage rolled down the main street of the village. Distracted, he gazed out the window at the stores and homes.

  When the vehicle passed the inn, he could see into the lighted upper room set aside for private dining. Inside he saw Mortimer Wallace seated before a rich repast. Despite the sight of so many deliciously cooked dishes, Sir Gerard felt a sick nausea settle in his stomach that had nothing to do with the jerking movements of the carriage. Until the end of the month. That was all the time remaining before the money-lender destroyed his dreams.

  Gkaplm £7we

  Annette discovered she enjoyed being an heiress. It was pleasant to pay off her debts owed to the shopkeepers. No longer did she worry about ducking into the store to buy a necessity. Now, wide smiles and welcoming bows from the merchants greeted her.

  When Annette donated enough to the church to replace the leaking roof, the vicar's praise for her generosity swelled to the old rafters. His effusiveness embarrassed her. She had long known the needs of the church and the rest of the district. At last she had the opportunity to do something about both of them.

  The universal approval that met her actions soothed any doubt in her heart that Sir Gerard's demands might have created. She told herself, "I am using the money wisely."

  Her greatest pleasure came the day she tramped over the musty cold warehouse with the carpenter. Wisps of straw blown about by the wind whistling through the bigger cracks in the walls covered the floor. A large puddle in one corner had frozen into an indoor skating rink. Even the mice, certainly inhabiting the walls, stayed hidden for

  warmth. Rubbing her hands together to stay warm, Annette knew she would have to add a chimney and stove to her plans.

  The carpenter Tubbs assessed the damage and his client before quoting a price to repair the roof and the walls.

  Annette's gasp of surprise echoed in the hollow building. "That's an outrageous price!"

  The burly man shrugged. "Lot of work to be done."

  "I am aware of that, but your price is too high."

  "I need help with some of this bigger work. I have to pay them, too," the carpenter pointed out.

  Annette gazed directly at him, her hands on her hips. "Now, Tubbs, I know times are hard and prices are high. I also know I have the money to pay you a decent wage, and that is what I am going to do. Pay you a decent wage, not allow highway robbery."

  He scuffed his feet against the dirt coating the floor. "You been good to me and my family many times, Miss Courtney. I don't forget that."

  The adjusted price he named was far more reasonable, and with a little bit more negotiation, they reached a rate acceptable to both of them.

  Annette shook his hand. "I want to open the school as soon as possible, so do your best."

  "For you, I will."

  His promise reassured her. Tubbs was a man who kept his word. With pleased expectation, Annette gazed around the warehouse. A few empty barrels remained of the former inventory. Soon her benches filled with children would replace the dark emptiness. The sound of recitations would resound in the bare space as the students learned their arithmetic and reading. She sighed with hap-

  piness at the prospect. Her dream of a school finally seemed within reach.

  The only area where Annette did not exert control was her social life. Here, to her dismay, her companion Lucille dominated.

  "The first thing we must do," Lucille stated, "is to make your wardrobe more fashionable. More color would not be a bad idea, either."

  They were visiting the dressmaker's place, and the woman had just placed a nice length of brown wool before them. Annette liked the cloth.

  "This looks very serviceable," she told her companion. "The brown will not show the dirt, and the fabric appears strong enough to wear well."

  Lucille sniffed in contempt. "Service is not something we are looking for." Her gaze assessed the bolts stacked at the back. She marched over to a dark green silk and ran her hand over it. "This looks very nice. You would like a gown sewn from it."

  Mrs. Hutchens, the dressmaker, blinked in surprise behind her round glasses. A tall, spare woman with her brown and gray hair pulled back from her face, she dressed in the clothes she sewed, providing an excellent model for her creations. A pleased smile spread across her face as she sailed over to join Lucille. "Forgive me. I did not realize you wanted an evening gown."

  Neither did Annette. She tried to interfere. "I have two perfectly good gowns already."

  Lucille did not even turn around from her inspection of the bolts. "Pshaw! You have worn those to such threads that I am amazed they still hold together. You need something new to wear for the Assembly."

  Mrs. Hutchens nodded in agreement. "If you wish, I can sew it in time for the next one."

  Annette raised her eyebrows at this statement. "It always took almost a month to make one of my gowns before."

  "But an evening gown is ever so much more important," the dressmaker said.

  The price would probably reflect the extra work, Annette supposed. All other thoughts vanished when the woman unrolled a length of deep blue silk shot through with silver threads. Annette's breath caught in her throat at the sight of the shimmering fabric.

  Unable to stop herself, she reached out to caress the smooth, cool cloth. It spilled through her hands as though the night sky unfolded before her. For an instant, she wondered how Sir Gerard would regard her in a gown created from this silk. Would he see someone more than the spinster everyone considered her to be?

  "You like this one?" Mrs. Hutchens asked.

  There was no need for Annette to pretend otherwise. Her hands still played with the fabric. "Yes. How much does it cost?"

  'Two guineas a yard, plus the cost of the sewing."

  Annette gasped. 'Two guineas!"

  The dressmaker defended herself. "It is a fair price. The silk was smuggled all the way from France. There is no duty included."

  "Excellent!" Lucille declared. "We will buy enough to make a gown from that. It will be the first one we want made up, but we shall choose the design later."

  "But..." Annette tried to protest she did not want to encourage smuggling, but Lucille had commanded Mrs.

  Hutchens's attention. The women ignored her as they turned back to examine the fabrics.

  "I do like this green silk," Lucille said. "It would also look good on Miss Courtney."

  After choosing the evening dress fabrics, they selected others for day gowns. When Lucille and Mrs. Hutchens pored over the patterns, Annette offered an occasional opinion. It was usually disregarded. Lucille's wishes determined the designs for their clothes.

  Despite, or perhaps because of, the large order they left with the dressmaker, Mrs. Hutchens was able to finish both the elegant blue and silver gown for Annette and the deep gold one Lucille had set her heart on for herself in a record time of three weeks.

  Annette had spent the time overseeing the repairs to the warehouse, while Lucille supervised the sewing of their evening dresses. Acting with the same speed of the dressmaker, the carpenter Tubbs was able to renovate the building without delay. He employed a large crew of men eager for work. Sooner than she expected, her school was ready to open.

  No thoughts of her dream intruded on her mind when Annette stood outside the Assembly room ready to make her entrance; rather a fluttering of nervousness capered within her. This was the first time she was appearing at a social gathering since her inheritance, and she felt like a young girl just beginning her debut. These people were her lifelong neighbors, but would they regard her differently now? She had already seen ample signs of how the money was changing her life. The very gown she wore offered proof.

  Then her name and Lucille's were announced. Annette did not imagine the brief pause in the conversation as she

  felt every eye turn towards her. She lifted her chin and tried to pretend she did not notice. The music continued to play. After that short hesitation, the guests returned to their flirtations and gossip. Annette unfurled her fan wit
h seeming unconcern, but her hand trembled. She had done nothing wrong. Yet, for a moment, she had felt pilloried beneath the assessing gazes of her neighbors.

  The feeling did not last. It did not take long for the various men in the gathering to appear beside her, requesting a dance. Some of the bolder ones asked for two. With a lightness foreign to her, Annette laughed off those beseeching for more than one. She knew why she had suddenly become the belle of the ball.

  From young Daniel Talbot, who had barely escaped from school, to widower Mr. Deschamps with four children, the motives of the single men were no puzzle at all. However, it shocked her when several of the married men also requested dances. After a moment she realized her money attracted them, too. Not for marriage, but for the investments she could fund.

  Annette laughed and enjoyed her popularity to the fullest, with her eyes wide open. The only thing to mar her enjoyment was that her popularity did not extend to Lucille.

  Her companion sat off to the side, a bewildered look on her face. With her congenial nature, Lucille was not often ignored at social gatherings. She had even been more excited about her new dress than Annette had been. Now Annette ached for her friend's hurt. She tried to have some attention turned to Lucille. All her hints about how the other woman enjoyed dancing, too, met with studied ignorance by her partners.

  Then Sir Gerard Montfort joined the court clustered

  around her. He dressed in a formal black coat sewn with the elegance only a London tailor could master, yet an air of ease emanated from him. The gold of his watch chain gleamed in the candlelight, emphasizing the black ebony of his coat. A smile lit his face.

  Her heart seemed to pause before beating again at a much faster pace. Suddenly Annette knew her fears at the beginning of the Assembly had nothing to do with her reception by her neighbors and had everything to do with how this man would regard her in her new dress.