The Seventh Suitor (7 page)

“Found the perfect horses to start with,” he confided. “Winterton put us on to them. Had to go to Trowbridge, but it was worth it. Right price, too. Anyway, I might have had to go to Tattersall’s, you know.”

Charity smiled at his eagerness. “Lord Winterton is not resentful any longer, then? I thought he wished to purchase the farm himself.”

“He did. But Benjamin ran into him one day, and Winterton just happened to mention the horses in Trowbridge. Didn’t need them himself, you understand. Didn’t cut him out or anything,” he explained urgently.

‘‘No, I’m sure you would not do such a thing,” Charity replied.

“M’ father wants us to farm the place for a profit, and Kate says she’ll help with that. Good gun, Kate.”

“Yes, and she seems to know a great deal about farming. Perhaps she can help you plan your course of study on the subject.”

“My . . . oh, yes, to be sure,” said the bewildered Ralph.

“Now that you are to own a property, no doubt you’re anxious to learn how to go about making the best of it. It’s quite an ambitious project, Mr. Montgomery, what with the farming and the breeding both unexplored territory. I admire your ambition.”

Ralph could not be sure whether she was teasing him or whether she had merely picked up some of Kate’s habits. He glanced at her glowing face, whipped to a high color by the wind, and was entranced by the trusting, doe-like eyes. Damn it, he thought ruefully, I would study archeology to justify her faith in me.

Kate was surprised when her brother approached her on the matter of reading material about farming and breeding, but she supplied an overwhelming number of books and journals to him with alacrity. At his look of dismay she marked the most important texts and articles for a start. She was therefore not quite as shocked to learn that he had been talking with her father’s tenants, but she did not discuss the matter with Charity, though she would have liked to know if this was the source of Ralph’s sudden serious study of the subject.

She and her friend were riding back from the village one day when they came upon Ralph mounted on his horse, a small child seated behind him and clinging to his waist. Ralph was singing.

“My word!” Kate exclaimed involuntarily.

Ralph halted his song abruptly and explained sheepishly, “Found the little tyke in the wood. Gotten lost and hurt himself. One of the Jones brood, ain’t he? I was taking him home.”

“Yes,” Kate agreed as she took in the tear-stained face. “You’re Jeremy, aren’t you? Feel better now?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am. Mr. Montgomery knows the funniest songs,” the lad announced cheerfully.

“Does he? We shall have to have him sing them for us, won’t we, Charity?” Kate asked with a wicked grin at her brother.

“Yes, indeed,” Charity agreed as she bestowed a warm smile on Ralph, who flushed to the roots of his hair and said he must be off.

“He’s fond of children and animals and has a remarkable knack with them.” Kate remarked when the riders were beyond hearing. “I don’t doubt that he’ll do very well with his horses.” She reined her horse toward the Hall and did not see the sad look in her friend’s eyes as Charity watched Ralph’s departing figure.

* * * *

Ralph was pleased, if a trifle embarrassed, to be asked that evening by Charity to sing some of his songs for them. There was no difficulty for Kate in providing some background on the pianoforte for his rich baritone, though she was not always familiar with the tunes. He had to stop a moment before each, considering whether the words were appropriate to the present company, before he delighted them with various amusing pieces.

While he sang he was aware of Charity’s eyes on him and he could have sworn that there was a special tenderness in them, but she would quickly bend down to set a stitch if he tried to meet her gaze. As his own reward for entertaining the family circle, he seated himself near her when Susan started to leaf through the music for a song she knew well enough to play.

“I must thank you for obliging me, Mr. Montgomery,” Charity said softly. “You have a lovely voice and a charming repertoire.”

“I always stop to listen when the village children are singing, though I didn’t pick them all up that way,” he confessed with a flush. “It is fascinating how the songs of the countryside are passed down from generation to generation. Children seem to absorb their heritage along with their daily bread. There must be great rewards in having a family, guiding young minds to knowledge and a sense of well-being, don’t you think?”

Charity in her agitation pricked herself with a needle and sat gazing in alarm at the spot of blood Ralph dabbed from her finger. “Well, I . . . no . . . It seems to me that children are a very great responsibility. Not everyone is . . . prepared to undertake such a challenge. I myself cannot view it at all easily,” she said with a valiant attempt at lightness. “Think of all the parents who despair of their offspring! I wonder whether it is worth the effort.”

Ralph regarded her incredulously, and Charity did not give him an opportunity to respond, as she pointed out to him that Susan was ready to perform. Although it was difficult to ignore his obvious desire to continue their conversation, to understand her sentiments, she managed to devote her entire attention to Susan’s uninspired playing and fell into discussion with the younger girl when she had concluded her recital. To Ralph she accorded only a smile before she retired to bed for the evening.

Several days later there were letters for most of the family. Charity received a missive from her mother, who was happy to have her daughter spend additional time at Montgomery Hall. She asked only that Charity return to Bath for the week before her own departure for Daventry.

Mrs. Montgomery received a pretty gilded sheet from her old and dear friend, Lady Stockton, who had found the perfect house for them to let during their London stay. Lady Stockton had originally insisted that Mrs. Montgomery and Susan stay with her, for she had visited them often, but Mr. Montgomery had been firm about their having a house of their own. He meant to accompany them to town and see them established before returning to the Hall.

Susan had a letter from Lady Stockton’s daughter, Laura, who would be having her first season as well. Laura shared the London gossip and talked of the magnificent wardrobe she was acquiring, of the fittings and outings her mama took her on. The season would not begin for some time, but Laura was being quietly introduced to the
ton
by way of morning calls and informal evenings.

“But you must not think that my head is entirely filled with these entertainments, dear Susan, for I continue my studies when there is time. I have conceived a passion for reading Shakespeare’s plays, and to see them acted at the Theatre Royal is beyond my greatest dreams. You would scarcely credit it, but the majority of those who attend pay not the slightest attention to the work performed. They are all concerned with seeing and being seen,” the young lady concluded scornfully.

Ralph received a message from Mr. Drew’s solicitor advising him of the date his and Mr. Karst’s purchase would be concluded. This sent him off to his studies once more.

The letter from Aunt Eleanor was addressed to Kate, but of course was intended for the entire family. She and Mr. Hall, whom she referred to as Dawson, were having a splendid time, had enjoyed the Alps and the Low Countries, but were beginning to think of returning to Daventry to pick up their lives there together. They intended to visit Montgomery Hall on their return. Kate laughed over the part which read, “Dawson makes quite as agreeable a traveling companion as you, my dear, and it is so very comfortable to have a man in charge, since people
listen
to men. I shall never forget the experience you and I had in Paris where the concierge would not understand our French until we had inveigled that dear Mr. Thompson to vouch for us.” Dear Mr. Thompson, Kate remembered well. She had successfully foiled his attempts to assume the role of suitor and she had been much relieved when the colorful dandy had married a young woman from Nottingham and had settled there.

When the letter was read by Ralph he made a valiant effort, in Charity’s presence, to draw Kate out on her travels. She was not loath to talk of them, for they were among her fondest memories. And although she might have been somewhat mystified by his sudden interest, his attention was everything it should have been. He even absently offered her snuff during her recital, so intent was he.

“No, thank you, Ralph,” she demurred politely, and, seeing that he was about to do the same for Charity, continued, “I do not think Charity is in the habit of taking snuff, either.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, recollecting himself. “Didn’t know what I was doing. Shame we don’t do the Grand Tour anymore.”

“I imagine more people will travel now that things are settling down in France,” Charity suggested.

“Would you like to go there?” Ralph asked in such an eager way that it made Charity flush slightly.

“I doubt I shall ever get there, but I do enjoy hearing about it. And seeing your Aunt Eleanor’s sketches makes everything come alive. I hope she’ll have them with her when she comes to visit you.” Charity returned her gaze to the embroidery frame and simulated an intense concentration on her work there.

Ralph looked questioningly at Kate, but she was unable to help him. Kate recognized as well as he did that this was no shy maiden demurely hesitant to accept his advances. This was not the first time Kate had seen her friend keep her brother firmly at arm’s length. Ralph soon excused himself and sought out his father over some detail involved in the purchase of the farm.

Chapter 7

Kate and Charity spent the next week pleasantly taking walks, drives, and rides about the area when the weather permitted and sitting over embroidery frames talking when conditions outside were foul. It took some perseverance on Ralph’s part to find Kate alone, but he did so late one afternoon. She was in the back parlor playing a dulcimer she had found years ago in the attic. As he was hesitant about the subject he wished to broach, he waited patiently for her to finish a piece before beginning.

“I . . . I . . . It’s about Charity,” he blurted. When his sister regarded him inquiringly he continued, “Beautiful girl. Such a sweet disposition—always calm and pleasant. Quite fond of her.” His face colored slightly.

“She in indeed the finest young woman of my acquaintance,” Kate responded carefully.

“Yes, yes. To be sure. What I have been wondering is . . . well . . . has she spoken with you about me at all?”

His countenance was so gravely serious and concerned that Kate could not help but feel for him. “She has spoken kindly of you, as of the rest of the family.” Kate could not find anything further to say which would comfort him and not betray her promise.

“And that is all? I had thought . . . that is, she seemed to like me well enough. We’ve laughed together and talked of my plans for the farm. But sometimes she’s rather distant with me. I cannot think how I have offended her!”

“Now, Ralph, I doubt you have done so. Why do you not speak with her?”

‘‘She’s at some pains never to be alone with me,” he said sadly. “I can hardly talk to her with you and Susan around. Could you arrange it so we should be alone together? Promise I would not force my attentions on her. Do you think her heart is engaged elsewhere?”

“Really, Ralph, I could not say. I am not in her confidence in such matters. You must make your own way in this. I should not interfere where my brother and my friend are involved,” she replied with finality.

Ralph gave an exasperated shrug and wandered unhappily from the room. Kate stared after him, absently fingering the strings of the dulcimer. It had become obvious to her as well that Charity was attempting to avoid her brother, but she was at a loss to explain it. And of course she could not press Charity further. Her friend appeared to have a calming effect on Ralph which pleased Kate. There had been many rides about the countryside when she had observed the two together and been very pleased that they got on so well. But she must have been mistaken if Charity was indeed discouraging Ralph’s attentions. It would not be the first time she had been mistaken, she thought ruefully, as she bent her attention to the dulcimer again.

When Ralph left Kate, he wandered through the house, aware that Charity was with Susan in the garden. He had been so excited about the scheme for the farm before Charity came, and his developing fondness for her had led him to share with her some of his plans and dreams. Charity had helped him translate some of these into a more realistic form. At her suggestion, he had indeed delved into the mysteries of the countryside, and he had proceeded to learn more for his own benefit and not for the sake of outshining Lord Winterton or even pleasing Charity
.

His partner, Benjamin Karst, had at first been puzzled by Ralph’s growing interest in technical matters and had teased him unendingly. But he was loath to set his ignorance against Ralph’s growing knowledge, and he secretly began to study the subject as well. Benjamin and Ralph were to conclude the purchase of the farm on the following day, and Ralph was anxious to push for some enlightenment on Charity’s feelings. So he bribed a footman to call Susan away from the garden on an imaginary errand and, with hands clasped nervously behind his back, approached Charity, who was seated in the arbor.

“Miss Martin-Smith, I would beg a word with you,” he began.

Charity’s natural poise did not desert her, for she had realized that this moment must come, but inwardly she quaked at what she must do. “Mr. Montgomery, do be seated. Can I assist you is some way?” she asked, her manner not at all encouraging.

“I have come to cherish the highest regard for you, Miss Martin-Smith . . . Charity. May I call you so?”

“As it pleases you.”

“I had hoped that you might return my regard,” he continued anxiously.

“I am sure I regard you as a most congenial companion and friend,” Charity replied stiffly.

“I don’t want to be your friend,” he sighed unhappily. “That is, I want to make you my wife.”