A Marriageable Miss (7 page)

‘Her ladyship has been making some suggestions as to how we might proceed,’ she said lightly, turning again to the countess. ‘Perhaps you would care to elaborate, ma’am?’

‘Mere details,’ replied the dowager, shrugging diffidently. ‘However, it has just this minute occurred to me that, had I chosen to keep up my acquaintance with the Ashingtons, Miss Wheatley’s mother, Louisa—who, you must remember, was a peeress in her own right—could well have been my goddaughter. Since it is highly improbable that there is still anyone around who might be likely to dispute this point, I believe that this is the story we should put about.’

He frowned. ‘Surely a good many of your acquaintances may well wonder why this fact has never come to light before?’

Lady Isobel glared at him and pursed her lips. ‘Do stop being so difficult, Richard!’ she retorted. ‘You really cannot expect someone of my advanced age to keep a track of every one of her numerous godchildren! It was only when Miss Wheatley’s name was drawn to my attention that I recalled the connection. That this should have occurred at the same time as you succeeded to the title is pure coincidence.’

For one moment, Helena wondered if she could have misunderstood the countess’s words for, if she had not, it would appear that her ladyship was already well into the process of believing her own fabrication. Stifling a smile, she could not resist glancing up at Markfield, in order to gauge his reaction to his grandmother’s performance. To her astonishment, the earl, too, seemed to be having some difficulty in controlling his own mirth.
But then, as he caught her eye on him, he winked and gave her a quick grin, causing a sudden quiver of agitation to cascade through her. Blushing, she dropped her eyes and tried to concentrate on the countess’s continuing remarks.

‘In any event,’ her ladyship was saying, ‘it is hardly as though anyone would take it upon themselves to challenge me!’

‘That’s certainly true,’ chuckled her grandson. ‘Who would dare? I swear I have seen both dukes and generals quail at one word of disapproval from you!’

‘Enough of your sauce, my lad!’ Eyeing him balefully, the countess wagged an imperious finger at him. ‘If you have a better idea, then I am sure that both Helena and I would be glad to hear it.’

His lips still twitching, Richard shook his head and held up his hands in a playful gesture of surrender. ‘Consider me at your command, ma’am. In matters such as these, I bow to your greater expertise.’

After eyeing him suspiciously for a moment or two, the countess turned her attention back to Helena, who had been watching the interplay between Markfield and his grandparent with increased interest. It seemed clear to her that, despite the light-hearted sparring that went on between them, the two of them had considerable respect and affection for one another. This rather surprising discovery had the effect of strengthening her growing belief that this particular aristocrat was something of a cut above the likes of the motley crew with whom she had had the misfortune to associate previously. All things considered, she decided, a few weeks in his company could scarcely do her any harm and would certainly afford her father plenty of time to recover from his latest attack. Deep in contemplation, she suddenly became aware that Lady Isobel was addressing her once more.

‘You do ride, I take it?’

Helena barely had time to nod her head before the countess was firing other questions at her, concerning her ability to converse in French, stitch a sampler, play the pianoforte and dance a waltz.

‘Not that you will be allowed to do so to begin with, of course,’ added her ladyship, of the last, which Helena was obliged to admit that she had not come across, since dancing, along with the rest of her tuition, had virtually ceased at her mother’s death.

‘No matter—when the time comes, Markfield shall instruct you.’

Flicking another glance at the now-seated earl, Helena found, to her surprise, that his eyes were fixed searchingly upon her face, no doubt trying to gauge her reaction to his grandparent’s intense barrage. At his clearly concerned expression, her lips curved in an involuntary smile. Their eyes locked and, for one breathless moment, during which time the whole world seemed to shudder to a standstill, she found herself incapable of rational thought. Her heart pounding, she forced herself to tear her eyes away from his mesmerising gaze, furious with herself for having been so foolish as to allow her carefully constructed guard to drop.

All at once, Richard’s spirits rose. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed and, leaning back in his seat, reasoned that the future did not, after all, look nearly as bleak as it had a few hours earlier. Indeed, in the light of the extraordinary discovery that his grandmother appeared to be somewhat taken with her stockbroker’s rather unusual daughter, it was becoming increasingly clear that the bulk of his potential problems might well be on the way to being resolved. Such was Lady Isobel’s reputation amongst the
haut monde
that, with her at the helm of the project, it was highly unlikely that this particular ship would run aground. Added to which, the idea of spending more time in Miss Wheatley’s company seemed, for some strange reason, to be growing more appealing by the moment.

L
ottie was almost beside herself with a combination of worry and impatience. She had been standing at the window for almost half an hour and when, at last, Markfield’s carriage hove into view, she was out of the morning room and down the stairs in a trice, all agog to learn how Helena had fared at the hands of the imperious Lady Isobel Standish.

Reaching the hallway just as Hayward opened the front door, however, she perceived that Lord Markfield, having brought Helena to the doorstep, was now in the process of saying his farewells. Uncomfortably aware that any overly inquisitive behaviour on her part would meet with her cousin’s disapproval, Lottie quickly withdrew from their line of vision but, since her curiosity was by this time almost at bursting point, she found that, by straining her ears, she was just able to catch the earl’s words.

‘I must thank you again for exercising such admirable self-restraint, Miss Wheatley,’ he was saying. ‘I fear that my grandmother can be—how shall I put it?—a little overbearing at times. I trust that she has not caused you to have second thoughts about our agreement?’

‘Not at all, sir,’ came Helena’s reply. ‘You must allow me to disabuse you of such a notion. I have every reason to believe that the countess and I came to understand one another perfectly well.’

‘In that case, may I take it that you are not averse to attending this soirée she has suggested on Friday?’

‘But, of course,’ returned Helena evenly. ‘If her ladyship truly believes that she will have no difficulty in procuring so many guests at such short notice, then it is hardly for me to cry craven.’

‘You continue to surprise me, Miss Wheatley,’ said Richard, a slight smile playing about his lips as he executed a bow and turned to leave. ‘With your permission, then, I shall call for you at eight.’

Realising that her cousin was shortly about to make her entrance, Lottie turned tail and hurried back up to the morning room where, picking up the book that she had recently discarded, she resumed her seat in an attempt to give even the most critical observer the impression that she had been involved in that activity for quite some time. She was, however, considerably taken aback when, just a few short minutes later, Helena opened the door and, with barely a glance in her cousin’s direction, made straight for the window, clearly intent upon catching a glimpse of Markfield’s departing carriage!

‘His lordship appears to have made a considerable impression on you,’ she observed wryly, laying her book aside. ‘May I assume that your visit could be deemed to have been something of a success?’

Suddenly conscious of her extraordinary actions, Helena turned briskly away from the window only to find herself facing a somewhat speculative expression in her cousin’s eyes.

‘As a matter of fact,’ she replied defensively, as a becoming flush suffused her cheeks, ‘it actually turned out to be a good deal more interesting than I had expected.’

Lottie’s face lit up. ‘How so?’ she demanded eagerly. ‘You were gone such an age that I began to fear they had abducted you for some huge ransom!’

Helena laughed. ‘Silly goose! It is clear that you read far too many inferior novels,’ she said, as after peeling off her gloves she made for the door. ‘But I promise that I shall tell you everything as soon as I have been in to see Papa—he will be anxious to know how I got on.’

‘You had best not go in to him just at the moment,’ her cousin advised her worriedly. ‘I peeped in only a short while ago and he was fast asleep. Digby has spent most of the afternoon trying to keep him calm. Uncle Giles is so very keen that this Markfield fellow should come up to scratch, Nell, that I fear you will be hard pressed to persuade him that he has any unacceptable failings.’

‘I rather doubt that he has,’ murmured Helena absently, but then, as she registered the attentive gleam in her cousin’s eyes, she collected herself and added hurriedly, ‘But none of that matters for the present. His lordship has already given me his promise that he will go along with the scheme and his grandmama also seems to have entered into the spirit of the thing most enthusiastically!’

She then proceeded to describe the more salient details of her interview with Lady Isobel, causing Lottie to express, in turns, various degrees of dismay, affront and amazement at the countess’s high-handed treatment of her beloved Helena.

‘You are so brave, Nell!’ she breathed, when her cousin had finished. ‘I could not have borne to have been spoken to in such a way! She sounds the most awful harridan!’ A sudden thought struck her and she paled. ‘I suppose I shall have to meet her if I am to accompany you on any future visits!’

Helena let out a little chuckle. ‘Oh, come now, Lottie,’ she cried. ‘You only have to call to mind old Mrs Pettigrew in your village! You remember how
she
always tries to mortify everyone with her overbearing behaviour, while you and I both know that, at heart, she would really like to make friends, but simply doesn’t know how to set about it. Look how quickly she came round when we offered to exercise her dog when she was laid up with the gout. In my opinion, her ladyship is merely a rather grander version of our Mrs Pettigrew!’

Lottie looked bewildered. ‘But the countess must have loads of friends if she is going to invite them all to this party of hers!’

‘Plenty of acquaintances, no doubt,’ replied Helena, with a decisive nod. ‘And hangers-on, too, probably, but I take leave to dispute that many of them are actual
friends!
As a matter of fact,
the countess struck me as being rather a lonely old soul. Once you get past her hoity-toity grand manner, you will find that she is very little different from the likes of Mrs Pettigrew.’

‘If you say so,’ said Lottie, not at all convinced by her cousin’s argument, but then, changing the subject, she asked anxiously, ‘Am I to accompany you on Friday, do you know? I imagine that you would be expected to have some sort of a chaperon.’

Helena was silent for a few moments as she considered Lottie’s words but then, shaking her head, she felt bound to admit that the etiquette involved in this particular issue was somewhat outside her sphere. Although the matter had seldom arisen, it was perfectly true that, since her cousin had joined the Wheatley household, Lottie’s inclusion into any invitation, heretofore, had always been taken for granted. But, as Helena was well aware, small gatherings of her father’s business acquaintances, accompanied by their wives and assorted progeny, could hardly be compared with what Lady Isobel was likely to have in mind for the coming Friday.

‘I dare say I could ask Lord Markfield,’ she said eventually but then, recalling her earlier embarrassment over the
faux pas
regarding the carriage ride, she heaved a reluctant sigh. ‘But it is sure to give him even more reason to think us complete flats!’

At Helena’s crestfallen expression, a puzzled frown appeared on Lottie’s brow but she forbore from commenting on her cousin’s remark. Instead, she felt constrained to point out that, since Lady Isobel appeared to be so eager to sponsor Helena’s début, surely she was the person from whom any such advice must be sought.

Her face clearing, Helena reached out and grasped hold of Lottie’s hands. ‘But of course! How foolish of me not to have thought of that myself! Oh, Lottie, what an absolute gem you are. I shall write a note to her ladyship at once.’

Later that evening, however, as she sat at her father’s bedside and studied his grey, lined features, Helena found herself filled with serious misgivings regarding her continued deception of the sick man.

‘Now, my jewel,’ he was saying, his voice a husky whisper, ‘you must promise me that you will not allow this little setback of mine to interfere with any arrangement that the dear countess cares to make on your behalf. I feel myself growing stronger by the day and I find it extremely comforting to hear that you are not entirely averse to Lord Markfield’s suit. I was beginning to fear that we would never find the right husband for you!’

Helena attempted a careless laugh and patted his hand.

‘Good heavens, Papa! Anyone would think that you were anxious to get rid of me!’

The old man regarded her warmly. ‘Dear child.’ He smiled. ‘You know full well that that is not the case—I am merely concerned for your future well being. And, in the short time I was able to study his lordship, I do have to say that he struck me as being a very fine gentleman.’

‘Oh, I am sure you are right, Papa,’ replied Helena, uncomfortably aware that these were almost the exact words that her father had used in his appraisal of each of the three previous contenders for her hand. However, conscious of the physician’s recommendations that her father must enjoy absolute quietude, she refrained from any mention of those earlier conversations. Instead, having realised that the invalid was beginning to exhibit signs of fatigue, she gently disengaged her hand from his grasp, rose to her feet and bent to kiss his forehead.

‘You must rest now, dearest. Doctor Redfern has promised to come and see you tomorrow morning. I would not like him to think that you had been overtaxing yourself.’

‘You are a such a good girl, Helena,’ murmured Mr Wheatley, as he closed his eyes but then, almost at once, he forced his heavy lids apart and blurted out, ‘You will remember to have Markfield sign that contract, won’t you—I must have his promise…!’

‘Pray do not excite yourself, Papa,’ interjected Helena, utterly dismayed at her father’s sudden reference to the still-unsigned document, since she had been all but convinced that the dreaded subject had finally slipped his mind. ‘I am dealing with the matter, you have my word!’

As she let herself out of his bedchamber, however, fresh qualms began to assail her and she spent a very unsettled night wrestling over the combined difficulties of, not only fending off her father’s awkward questions but also, wondering how on earth she was going to come up with an acceptable excuse for terminating her association with the earl who, insofar as she was able to judge, appeared to be well nigh faultless!

The following day, having spent the morning helping out at the Chelsea soup kitchen, as was their usual practice, the two girls arrived home to find that, not only had the countess’s reply to Helena’s query been delivered during their absence but, in addition, a beautifully boxed posy of violets and primroses had arrived, courtesy of Lord Markfield.

To Helena’s relief—although rather to her cousin’s consternation—Lady Isobel indicated that, given that she was suitably gowned and coiffured, Miss Daniels’s presence on Friday evening would be quite in order.

‘Well, even she will have difficulty in finding fault with our appearance,’ glowered Lottie, upon reading her ladyship’s words. ‘Most of those lovely evening gowns that you had Madame Devy make for us last year have barely seen the light of day, let alone graced the rooms of the rich and famous, so I certainly shan’t shame you in that respect!’

Helena, who had been rapt in contemplation of the floral tribute, spun round in astonishment. ‘Shame me? Good Heavens, Lottie! What are you saying? How can you possibly think that I would ever be ashamed of you—you are my dearest friend!’

‘That’s as may be, at present,’ replied her cousin, only slightly mollified. ‘But, just you wait! The minute you start moving in those exalted circles, you should not be surprised to find yourself surrounded by a great many new friends—especially once news of Uncle Giles’s fortune gets about! Added to which, there is another matter that has been bothering me. If you really intend to allow her ladyship full rein in the setting up of these engagements, it cannot have failed to occur to you that they will all be orga
nised to suit her convenience, not your own. It seems to me that you are going to find yourself in something of a social whirl—morning visits, afternoon calls, theatre parties and so on. How will we be able to fit in all our other commitments? We shall scarce have a moment to ourselves!’

Helena merely laughed, saying, ‘Oh, come now! Surely you are worrying unnecessarily? We had no problem fulfilling our duties at the chapel when I was staving off the other three, so I fail to see why you think that it should prove any more difficult this time.’

Shaking her head, Lottie eyed the little posy reflectively. ‘As I recall, Nell,’ she pointed out, ‘you were somewhat more averse to those particular gentlemen’s attentions than you seem to be to Lord Markfield’s—as well as doing your level best to find ways of extracting yourself from your various engagements with them. This time, it does seem to me that you are a good deal more eager to give the matter rather more than its fair share of your attention!’

A rosy glow crept across Helena’s cheeks. ‘W-whatever can you mean, Lottie?’ she stammered uneasily. ‘You must know that I only fell in with her ladyship’s plans because it seems to me that, with Papa still so poorly, I really have very little choice in the matter.’

Lottie shrugged. ‘Very true, my dear. But I can’t help wondering exactly how you intend to ditch this particular peer!’

Helena flinched and a little shiver ran down her back. ‘It is far too early to be thinking about that, Lottie,’ she retorted. ‘For me to pull out at this stage would be nothing short of disastrous. Besides which, Papa would never countenance such a thing at present.’

‘You are right, of course,’ returned Lottie sagely. ‘Besides which, Lord Markfield is, without a doubt, far and away the best of those who have responded to Uncle Giles’s offer and, apart from the fact that he has such extraordinarily perfect manners, you have to admit that he has to be the most devilishly handsome creature that you have ever come across!’

In order to hide the beginnings of yet another tell-tale wave of colour that ran across her face, Helena hurriedly bent to gather
up her outdoor things and swept towards the door, declaring, ‘If you are about to descend into talking utter nonsense, Lottie, it is clearly time to bring this conversation to a halt! Allow me to assure you that his lordship’s looks, handsome or otherwise, are of very little concern to me.’