The Honourable Earl

Chapter Three

L ydia had spent a long time in the library, trying to find some suitable uplifting book which might make her calmer, more in control of emotions and, having found a volume of sermons which she thought might fit the bill, set out for home.

On the outskirts of the town, she had to pass the gate of Sir Arthur’s newly built mansion. It stood in about two acres of land, shielded from the crossroad by a high wall. She stopped to peer along the drive through the ornamental gates. It was a large building, but box-like, with a central door and tall portico on Corinthian columns. Either side were evenly spaced long-sash windows. Because it was so new, no creeper grew up the walls to peep in at the windows, no moss had invaded its roof. The gardens, in the latest landscape design which had yet to mature, had no flower beds and no large trees, though some saplings had been planted here and there. It was a house without character, unlike the dower house which was even more ancient than the Hall itself.

She shook herself; how could she regret leaving the house she now lived in, so close to Colston Hall and its detested occupant? She should be glad. She might enjoy adding her own touches to this place, making a home from bricks and mortar. Slowly she pushed open the gate and began walking towards it, not even thinking what she might say if Sir Arthur or a servant were to see her and ask what she was doing there.

There was no sign of life, no open windows, no children or dogs. It was silent as the grave. She turned away from the front door with its lion’s head knocker and went round the side of the building. Here was a long low wing at right angles to the main building and a separate stable block in the same brick as the house. A horse snickered and she heard men talking in low voices and it was enough to bring her to her senses. Hurriedly she turned to go back the way she had come.

‘Miss Fostyn.’ The voice behind her was undoubtedly Sir Arthur’s. She turned to face him, her face on fire with embarrassment. He was dressed in a brown cloth coat, buckskin breeches and riding boots.

‘I…I went to the front of the house. No one came to the door.’ That was true, no need to tell him she had not even knocked.

‘Then I am sorry for that. My sister who keeps house for me is out and no doubt the servants were busy in the kitchen and did not hear you arrive. Where is your mama? Have you left her in the carriage?’

‘No, Sir Arthur, I am alone and I walked.’

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he did not comment. ‘Then, please come in.’

She could do nothing but retrieve her scattered dignity and follow him into the marble-floored hall with its intricately carved oak staircase, where he summoned a servant to take her cloak and fetch refreshments before turning back to her with a polite smile and escorting her into a drawing room where he invited her to be seated, standing himself with his back to the new Adam fireplace.

‘I was not expecting you, Miss Fostyn, or I would have been better prepared to entertain you.’

She sat on the edge of a chair, surveying the room and searching her mind for an excuse for visiting him alone. The doors and most of the furniture were in the new red mahogany wood which was so fashionable. The ceilings were intricately carved and gilded, the soft furnishings of damask and the ornaments oriental in design. It smelled of recently applied paint and everything—wood inlay tables, ornaments and pictures—shone, but time had not yet dulled any of it, had not added the ambience of it having been lived in and used, of being loved. It was all too perfect. And cold.

‘I am sorry to arrive unannounced,’ she said. ‘I was in Malden, changing my library book.’ She raised the book she carried so that he might see its uplifting title, which might help to alleviate the poor impression she had obviously made on him. ‘I had to pass here and as you said you would call on my mother…’

‘So I did.’

‘I was not sure which day it might be and Mama will not be at home on Wednesday and Friday, so it came to my mind I should leave a message with your butler to that effect. I thought it would save you a wasted journey.’

‘Indeed, that was thoughtful in you. Ah, here comes our tea.’ They watched as a servant put the tea tray on low table between them and withdrew. ‘Would you like to do the honours?’

She forced herself to smile at this little bit of domesticity as she lifted the teapot, hoping that he would not notice how much her hands were shaking, and praying fervently she would not rattle the cup in the saucer when she handed it to him. Would she soon be doing this as a matter of course?

‘I understand the reason for your visit,’ he said, sipping tea. ‘But perhaps it was a little unwise of you to arrive unaccompanied and unannounced? I and my daughters are newcomers to the district and anxious to be accepted among its inhabitants. I would not like our name to be sullied by gossip.’

‘Oh, Sir Arthur, I am very sorry, if you think it would,’ she said, mortified that he had managed to put her down, as if she were a naughty schoolgirl. ‘Our family is well known and respected and we are used to being seen out and about. I would not for the world embarrass you.’

‘No matter. If, as I sincerely hope, our two families are soon to be joined, there will be no harm done.’

‘I believe you have already spoken to my mama on the subject,’ she said, deciding she might as well jump in with both feet.

‘Yes. Two weeks ago, when I was introduced to her at a Missionary Society meeting. I mentioned that I was looking for a lady to share my life and I had been led to believe you were chaste and modest and dutiful, and I asked Mrs Fostyn how she would view an overture from me.’

‘And what did she say?’

‘She said it would be entirely up to you, which I thought a very evasive answer, for who would be so foolish as to allow a young lady to please herself on such an important matter?’

His answer annoyed her; for two pins she would walk out, but doing that would ruin her sister’s chances and her brother’s education, not to mention failing her beloved mama, who still fostered the hope that Freddie might be restored to them. All this depended on her finding favour with Sir Arthur. She had to play her part.

She managed a smile. ‘Why? Did you think I might refuse you?’

He smiled briefly. ‘No man likes to have his best intentions thrown back into his teeth. I would need to feel more sure of your answer before I ventured the question.’

She suppressed the laugh which bubbled up at this pomposity. ‘Do you not find the prize worthy of the chase, sir?’

‘Chase, ma’am? Do I appear to you as a man who would chase a lady?’

‘No, Sir Arthur, I was attempting humour. I beg your pardon.’

He smiled thinly. ‘Are you saying you would welcome an offer?’

‘Let us say I would not be averse to becoming better acquainted,’ she said, putting down her teacup and rising to leave. ‘It is not a decision to be taken lightly.’

‘No, to be sure,’ he said. ‘We must both give it careful consideration.’

When she politely refused the offer of his carriage to convey her home, he insisted on accompanying her to the door himself. ‘I am sorry the children are not at home to meet you,’ he said. ‘They are visiting their grandmother for a few weeks until I have everything as it should be and have engaged a new governess for them. The one they have now has declined to move with us. Such a pity, she was excellent.’

‘I look forward to meeting them another time,’ she said, smiling and holding out her hand.

He took it and raised the back of it to his lips. ‘I shall call on Mrs Fostyn very soon.’

She left him, her skin crawling with distaste, and yet she did not know why. He had done nothing untoward, in fact had been the perfect gentleman, except for his air of disapproval, which she supposed was justified. It was she who had behaved disgracefully and she dreaded to think what her mother would say. And she would have to be told, because he was sure to mention her visit when he called.

She walked down the drive and out of the gates, fighting back tears. Why had fate been so unkind to her? Why, if she must marry for money, could it not be someone young and handsome? And now, to add to her misery, it had started to rain again. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and plodded on, moving to the side of the road when she heard a carriage coming up behind her. She was unprepared for it to stop.

‘My lady, you should procure yourself an umbrella or at least refrain from going out when the sky threatens rain.’

She whipped round at the sound of his voice and a smile lit her face, making it come brilliantly alive. But then she remembered her predicament and the smile faded. ‘Oh, you again.’

‘Yes, me again.’ There was something very wrong, he realised. She was not the cheerful girl who had laughed at the rain in Chelmsford, nor the elegantly clad young lady he had spoken to at the assembly rooms at Malden the night before. Her grey cloak was bedraggled and her shoes mud-spattered, and even that lovely hair seemed not so vibrant. And it wasn’t only caused by the rain. ‘Get in, my lady, or we shall both be soaked, while I hold the door open.’

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