by Jane Ashford
Allison cleared his throat. “What shall I tell the young gentleman?” he inquired from the doorway.
Gwendeline straightened guiltily. “I suppose we must let him in?” she said to Lillian, who nodded. “You may ask him to come up, Allison.” They closed the fashion book and adjusted their expressions. Mr. Horton, entering the drawing room some moments later, found two very sober and correct young ladies.
He bowed. “Good morning Miss Gregory, Miss Everly,” he said.
“Good morning,” answered Lillian distantly.
“Will you sit down?” added Gwendeline coolly.
“Thank you,” he replied, looking daunted. “You are well, I trust?” The remark seemed directed equally at both ladies, and they nodded. There was a short silence. “It…it is a fine day,” Mr. Horton finally blurted. He was beginning to turn red, especially about the ears.
“A trifle cool, I fancy,” said Lillian, looking out the window.
“It will rain later, I should think,” added Gwendeline. But the sight of Mr. Horton’s discomfort was weakening her.
“I was sorry not to meet you at Lady Woolton’s evening party last night,” Mr. Horton said to Gwendeline. “I had looked forward, that is, I wanted, er, I had hoped to see you there,” he finished lamely.
“Lady Merryn has been so busy,” replied Gwendeline. “We don’t go out so often.” Unable to bear his miserable expression, she added, “She’s writing a book, you know.”
“Is she indeed?” responded Mr. Horton, eagerly grasping this conversational opening. “I know how that can be. My father often shuts himself up for weeks when he’s writing.”
Gwendeline looked at Lillian. “Does your father write also?” Lillian obediently asked. “How interesting. What sort of books does he write? Not novels?” The corners of her mouth twitched.
The suggestion appeared to shock Mr. Horton. “No, of course not,” he replied. “He has published several volumes of sermons and a book on religious philosophy.” He looked at them defiantly. “He’s a very learned man.”
Gwendeline was contrite. “I’m sure he must be. I have a great admiration for those who can do such things. I’m so stupid about books.”
Mr. Horton leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees. “Do you truly admire them?” he asked earnestly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be stupid at all, with proper guidance; you would love books, I’m sure.”
Gwendeline was taken aback. Lillian was perilously near outright laughter. “You’re too kind,” Gwendeline replied. “I assure you I dislike reading excessively.”
“But that is only because of your training. I know it could be changed. If you would permit me to lend you some volumes I have here in London, I’m sure you would see what I mean.”
“I hardly have time for reading.” There was a choking sound from Lillian. Giving her a sharp look, Gwendeline continued more firmly. “And Lady Merryn lent me several books; she has many literary friends. So you see, my reading is well supervised.”
“What books has…” began Mr. Horton, but he was interrupted by the entrance of Allison.
“Excuse me, Miss Gwendeline,” said the butler, “but there’s a footman from Miss Everly’s house below. He’s come to fetch her. Evidently, she is needed at home.”
“Why, what could be the matter?” said Lillian, rising. “I told Mother I was staying for luncheon.”
“He didn’t say, Miss Everly,” Allison replied.
Lillian looked perplexed. “I suppose I must go, Gwendeline.”
“Shall I go with you?”
“I’m sure it’s only some domestic crisis and Mother wants moral support.” She smiled. “Good day, Mr. Horton. I shall see you tomorrow I hope, Gwendeline.” And with this, she left the room.
Gwendeline remained standing, concerned about her friend. “I’m afraid you must excuse me now, Mr. Horton.”
“I’ll go very soon,” he answered. “But I’d like some private conversation with you first, if you will permit me.” In response to Gwendeline’s nervous look, he added, “It’s so difficult to find an opportunity to speak to you alone.”
“Oh, but I…”
“Please,” interrupted Mr. Horton. His prominent brown eyes pleaded with her. He presented such a sad appearance, with his drab, outmoded garments and nervous manner, that Gwendeline was filled with compassion. She sat down again reluctantly. “Thank you.”
There was a pause; Gwendeline looked at him. “It’s very difficult to begin,” he finally said. “I…I am not particularly good at pretty speeches. I wish to ask you, Miss Gregory”—he paused again—“if…if you would consider becoming my wife.” Gwendeline stared at him. He hurried on. “We haven’t been acquainted long, I know. But your kindness and gentleness have so impressed me in this short time that I have come to love you very much and to wish to spend my life with you.”
Gwendeline found her voice. “I’m honored and flattered by your offer, Mr. Horton, but…”
He held up a hand. “Please. Before you answer, I’d like to tell you something of my circumstances, which are not well known in London. I come from the north, from York. My father is a bishop there, and very well thought of. I shall be ordained next spring and take over a very adequate living that is being held for me.” He paused nervously. “I think you’d like living there; it is in the country.”
Gwendeline stopped him. “I’m afraid I must refuse. You can find a much more suitable wife than I.”
“I don’t believe it,” he cried. “I wish to marry you.”
“I’m sorry,” Gwendeline said unhappily.
He took her hand. “Perhaps I’ve gone too fast. You feel you hardly know me. If I waited and asked you again after our acquaintance has improved?”
Gwendeline shook her head. “I won’t change my mind. We shouldn’t suit. Please, Mr. Horton.” She pulled her hand away. “I would not say so if I didn’t mean it. I don’t wish to hurt you, but I cannot marry you.”
Mr. Horton seemed about to press his argument further, but he was forestalled by a voice from the doorway. “I beg your pardon,” said the Earl of Merryn. “I appear to have intruded.” Mr. Horton turned scarlet and rose to his feet. Gwendeline stood also.
“Excuse me,” said Mr. Horton in a strangled voice, and he fled from the room.
Gwendeline sank back on the sofa; she was on the verge of tears. The earl sat down opposite. “I congratulate you,” he said affably. “Your first proposal of the season.”
“Oh, how can you? It was quite horrible. There is no kind way to tell someone you don’t wish to marry him. I hated it!”
“I see that you did. But it’s all over now. There’s no need to be upset.”
Gwendeline was incredulous. “No need? When I shall see him at every party I attend for the rest of the season? What shall I say to him, what shall I do?”
“You forget that no one will know what passed between you save yourselves,” the earl replied soothingly. “You will be polite to each other, and I’m sure Mr. Horton will have the good sense and manners not to put himself constantly in your way.”
“Do you think so?”
“I think he is a sensible young man,” he replied.
“I hope you’re right. How glad I am that you called at just this moment,” she added feelingly. “I was never so pleased to see anyone.”
“Once again I play the rescuer,” he answered lightly. Gwendeline smiled at him. “Though I begin to realize,” he continued, “that you don’t really trust me in that role. It’s a pity I must be always filling it.”
Gwendeline stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“I had a very surprising conversation with Sir Humphrey Owsley at my club yesterday. He sought me out. Unheard of for the laziest man in London. All present were amazed.”
Gwendeline flushed. “Oh,” she said.
Lord
Merryn cocked an eyebrow. “Is that all you have to say?”
His tone made her angry. “What should I say? You know very well that I’ve been eager to thank my benefactors, yet you’ve refused to take me to any of them. So, I found one myself. You might have told me that they asked you not to reveal their names. In fact, I can’t think why you didn’t.”
The earl was watching her, bemused. “You’re an extremely resourceful girl. There’s certainly nothing of the shy, simpering, retiring miss about you. You continually surprise me. I apologize for not telling you more. I didn’t see that your will was so strong.”
Gwendeline was a bit startled.
“Or perhaps I should say your resolve,” he added smoothly, “to acknowledge your ‘benefactors’ as you call them.”
“As anyone would, I think. Will you take me to see the others?”
Lord Merryn looked regretful. “Alas, I cannot. It is indeed as you surmised. The group is not eager to have its individual members known. Sir Humphrey was quite out of charity with me, in fact.” He smiled wryly. “So instead of taking you to meet them, I must rather ask you not to search further. It’s what they wish, you see. I’ve conveyed your sincere thanks to all concerned, you know.”
Gwendeline frowned. “Well, but it’s excessively annoying. Why must they be so secretive?”
Lord Merryn took a breath. “Some, like Sir Humphrey, don’t wish to exert themselves in any way. He never hesitates to spend money but will not lift a finger for anyone but himself.” He smiled again. “And sometimes not even then. Others live out of town, even abroad. I beg you to be content with your one discovery, Gwendeline, and let the matter rest.”
Gwendeline looked at the floor, frowning. “Very well,” she said finally. “I cannot see that there is much else I can do. You will tell me nothing; Lady Merryn flatly refuses to name my father’s friends. Even Sir Humphrey wouldn’t help me. It is hardly something I can ask strangers.”
The earl seemed relieved. “Good.”
Silence fell. Gwendeline was lost in thought, and Lord Merryn was watching her. A few minutes passed before Gwendeline looked up, started, and recovered herself. “Your…your mother is upstairs in her study, if you wish to see her,” she told him.
“She’s writing again? I wondered why you were alone here at the mercy of stray suitors.” He smiled at her, trying to recapture the light note of their earlier conversation. “I must scold her; she’s sadly absentminded when she’s working on one of her ‘Gothics.’ But actually, I called to see you this morning.”
“Me?” Gwendeline asked, surprised and pleased.
“Yes, I’m arranging the expedition we spoke of making. To ride in the country. You haven’t forgotten?”
“Oh, no,” Gwendeline replied eagerly. “But I thought that you…that is…”
“You had thought that I had,” finished the earl, grinning wickedly. “I see you have a very low opinion of my manners. I must do something about that.”
“When?” she asked.
He laughed. “Friday week. I called to ask you whom you wish to invite.”
“I?” answered Gwendeline.
“Or perhaps I should say whom you wish me to invite,” he amended. “The party is planned for you, after all.”
“But I cannot choose your guests,” she protested.
“Nonsense,” he replied. “I don’t know your friends. You must help me make the list. Only imagine, I would have asked Mr. Horton.”
“Oh dear.” She thought quickly. “Lillian would like to come, I know. Let me see.”
They decided on Lillian Everly and the Misses Greene, two sisters Gwendeline sometimes rode with. Lady Merryn would be lured from her book to serve as chaperone, riding in a coach rather than on horseback, and two of her friends would be asked to accompany her in it. But when it came to the gentlemen, Gwendeline was at a standstill. “Sophy Greene is engaged, but I’ve forgotten his name,” she said plaintively. “We must ask him.”
“I shall inquire,” said the earl, smiling. “What of her sister?”
“I don’t know.” Gwendeline frowned in concentration. “She’s only just out this year. I’ve seen her dance with one of her cousins. Oh, who is it? Sir Randall Jacobs, I believe his name is. Do you know him?”
He nodded, still smiling. “Is there someone Miss Everly would like to meet?”
“Not Lord Wanley,” Gwendeline said.
Lord Merryn laughed. “I’ll make a note of that. Perhaps I should choose the other gentlemen?”
“Oh yes. That would be best.”
“Good,” he replied, rising. “I must go and speak to Mother about our arrangements.”
Gwendeline rose and held out her hand. “I look forward to it so much,” she said. “I know we’ll have a splendid time.”
“Indeed,” he said. “Are you perfectly recovered now?” Gwendeline nodded. “I’ll leave you, then.” He bowed and turned away. “I remain at your disposal if you require rescuing from any other ardent suitors,” he said over his shoulder. Gwendeline swept him a mock curtsy and he laughed.
When he’d gone, Gwendeline sat down and stared thoughtfully out the window. The morning had been very eventful, and she felt in need of a respite. As if in response to this thought, Lillian Everly entered the room suddenly. “Lillian,” she cried. “I didn’t think to see you again this morning.”
“My mother twisted her ankle running down the stairs to scold the cook,” Lillian answered. “I arrived to find her in bed, surrounded by several maids, the doctor, and four of her friends. She was absolutely livid when she heard that the servants had called me and my father home in a panic.” She shrugged. “She sent me directly back here. So I am thrown on your hands once again.”
“I’m so glad to see you,” Gwendeline replied. “Mr. Horton made me an offer!”
“Just after I left you?” Gwendeline nodded. “Good heavens!” Lillian stared. “I never thought he would bring himself to it.”
“It was horrible,” Gwendeline said. “It’s so hard to tell a man that you don’t care for him.”
Lillian nodded. “Poor Mr. Horton.”
“And he explained his prospects to me. His father is a bishop, Lillian. He lives in York.”
“Really?” responded the other girl, interested. “We’ll have to quietly inform society of that fact, Gwendeline. He’ll be more sought after then.” Gwendeline grimaced. “Yes, I know,” Lillian said, “but it may make him happier and help him find a wife, if that’s what he wishes. Do we know anyone suitable, I wonder?” She pondered. “What about Alicia?”
“Lillian!”
“Well, she likes to read.”
“Do you take nothing seriously?” asked Gwendeline.
“I take many things seriously,” Lillian replied, “but proposals of marriage are not among them. Come, Gwendeline, these things happen every day. It is not a matter of life and death.”
“They do not happen to me every day,” Gwendeline said.
“I beg pardon. You must think me shockingly callous. But I’m sure you and Mr. Horton will both be completely recovered by tomorrow. Truly, Gwendeline, it’s not a tragedy.”
“I suppose you’re right,” answered Gwendeline. “I’ve never received an offer of marriage before.”
“Lord Wanley offers for me every few weeks,” Lillian said with a laugh. “He would be greatly discomfited if I accepted.”
Gwendeline’s eyes grew wide. “But he must wish to marry you very much.”
“Nonsense. He wishes to find himself in interesting emotional situations. The last thing he really wants is a wife.”
Gwendeline looked at her, mystified. “It seems extremely odd. I shall never understand such behavior. If Lord Merryn hadn’t come at just the right moment, I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Lord Merryn?” repeated Lillian.
r /> “Yes, he arrived as I was refusing Mr. Horton. It was very embarrassing, of course, but it made Mr. Horton excuse himself.”
“I should think so.” Lillian seemed preoccupied. “You’ve been seeing more of Lord Merryn lately, haven’t you?”
Gwendeline looked down. “Not really. We’ve met riding, and I see him at parties.”
“Has he mentioned that his brother has returned to town?”
“His brother?” Gwendeline was surprised. “No, I didn’t know he had a brother.”
“Yes, he has one younger brother, Andrew. He’s in the army, a major I believe.” Lillian looked out the window as she spoke.
“Indeed?” responded Gwendeline. “He never mentioned him. Nor has his mother. I wonder why?”
“Major St. Audley has been out of the country for some months,” Lillian told her. “I understand that he was on a diplomatic mission of some delicacy in Russia.”
“Is he a friend of yours?”
“No,” answered Lillian quickly, “that is, we’re acquainted and we used to meet at parties when he was in town.”
“I’ll ask Lord Merryn to invite him on our outing. I’d like to meet him.”
“Outing?” Lillian asked.
“Oh, you know nothing of it. The earl is getting up a party to go riding in the country. We can have a good gallop at last. You’ll receive an invitation tomorrow, I think. I’ll tell him you’re acquainted with his brother.”
“Please don’t,” Lillian interjected. “That is, he knows already, of course. I…I would not wish to seem to be dictating who shall come,” she finished weakly, as Gwendeline looked at her in surprise.
“Do you dislike Major St. Audley?” she asked. “Would you prefer not to see him?”
“No, it’s not…” Lillian appeared confused. “You must do as you please. Don’t ask him on my account.”
Gwendeline agreed, puzzled, and went on to tell her friend about the proposed expedition and who else was to attend. Lillian’s responses were subdued at first, but she agreed that it sounded like great fun. They talked of nothing else until Allison called them to luncheon.