Author: Beverley Oakley
Category: Nonfiction
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Mrs Dalgleish nodded. “True, true. You are always the first to see the best in a bad situation, Harry. It is your fine and noble nature shining through, of course, but then, you are young and have not witnessed life’s tribulations as I have. Still, I concur, Lizzy. I am very glad to see you here, looking so robust, and indeed, glowing with good health. Silver is a colour that becomes you, to be sure.”
The compliment that followed the set down filled Lizzy with such relief that she burst out, “I am not a person who seeks drama. Truly! I certainly hope that others won’t think it, either!”
The idea that falsehoods and innuendo might hamper her marital prospects was simply too dampening. It had been bad enough at the several Ladies Seminaries she’d been forced to attend, but nothing could compare in perfect horridness to living with Mrs Hodge.
No, Lizzy was here to find a husband. And although she felt a twinge of disappointment at Mr McAlister’s cavalier dismissal, the way Mr Dalgleish was standing up for her, after he’d kissed her in the little chamber just now, were all conspiring to make her feel that the proposition he was leading towards making was the best she could hope for.
When Ladies Fenton and Quamby stopped to compliment her on her ensemble, her pleasure was nearly complete.
The room was quite crowded now. Some guests were dining formally with their hosts in the grand dining room but here, in the card room, a table in the centre had been heaped with delicacies, while in the saloon a small orchestra had begun to play.
Paper-thin ham and pies and jellies of all kinds were a thrilling proposition, for the fare at Mrs Hodge’s was limited. Mrs Hodge indulged her sweet tooth when Lizzy was not in attendance.
“Restraint is a very necessary virtue for a young lady,” she heard behind her, and turned to see Mrs Dalgleish looking pointedly at her plate before Harry laughingly told his mother that he hardly thought gluttony was one of Lizzy’s faults. “Have you ever seen a more well-put-together young lady? Why, Lizzy must be the envy of every woman in this room,” he went on in gushing tones, spearing another slice of ham to place on her plate.
“A good thing I don’t live near my mother or I would be under constant siege, myself,” he added in an undertone, which was immensely reassuring. “My home, Rawlings, which I inherited last year, is very commodious and very…empty,” he added, meaningfully. “I am so looking forward to filling it with laughter and, in time,” a wistful look crossed his face, “children. My sister, Mary, is blessed with four of them in as many years. She lives across the river, and I’m sure you and she would like each other very much.”
The picture he painted of domestic harmony was so enticing Lizzy felt buoyed by an inner glow when he took her hand a little later to lead her into the dance. And though she hoped she did not betray the flare of disappointment she felt when she saw Theo dancing with a plain young miss with a poor complexion, she felt hopeful that the silent scold she gave herself would effectively dampen any yearning in the wrong direction. Theo had been nothing but honest about his intentions to marry another.
Therefore, by the time her dance partner next locked eyes with her, Lizzy was able to quickly paste a happy smile upon her face and to declare herself very ready to fall in love with Harry Dalgleish, as long as he said and did the right things over the next four days.
By chance, Theo found himself placed next to Amelia during the next dance, and as they locked eyes, he wondered what she was really thinking. But Amelia had always been guarded. Unlike her sister.
“I wish Catherine was here,” she now muttered, referring to her adored and vibrant sibling. She glanced down at her dancing slippers before directing at him a guilty look. “Oh Theo, that was too ghastly of me to say it. I am so sorry.”
He wanted to say that he wasn’t offended but this was hardly the moment. No doubt there’d be some eagle eyes amidst the onlookers, and the mere fact he was speaking with Amelia would cause tongues to wag.
“Lord Leighton is on his way back from the Continent.” She stared stonily ahead, waiting to perform her dance steps. “I received a letter from my uncle telling me that he’s cut short his sojourn in France and coming here. He wishes us to marry at the earliest.”
The couple immediately before them had nearly finished their figures. Theo could not respond in the seconds available. But as it was his turn to take Amelia’s hand and move her through the dance, his heart was suddenly beating very hard and fast. Lord Leighton’s return to England was much sooner than he had expected. Than either of them had expected.
“Oh Theo, I don’t know what to do! It’s not fair for me to ask you—”
“There’s no other way,” he said, aware that his words sounded gloomy and wooden. With an effort, he added a little more brightly, “Providence has obviously sent me here so that I shall beat Lord Leighton to it, eh?”
He’d hoped for a smile of confidence, but the sheen of Amelia’s doe-like eyes was uncharacteristic. Amelia was the most practical and self-sufficient young lady he knew.
She moved along the line to grasp the hand of the next gentleman with whom she was to dance her figures, saying softly over her shoulder, “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you, Theo.”
Chapter 11
The evening had been one of immense emotional heights, and Lizzy was glad to finally be told by Mrs Hodge that she must go to bed.
Harry bade her a fond farewell in the saloon, pressing his lips to the back of her hand as he gazed soulfully into her eyes, while his mother and Mrs Hodge looked on in evident satisfaction. For the first time, Lizzy was actually glad that she could please the woman, even if she were brokering a match that offered her financial advantage.
Everything was about money, after all.
Harry had danced with Lizzy three times and been attentive all evening. He had been amusing and charming, and Lizzy had almost been able to put out of her mind the gentle, ironic twist of Mr McAlister’s lips and the amusement in his eye when he spoke to her. At the time it had given her hope, making her feel that he considered her more than he’d like to admit, but as he had not so much as made eye contact with her the whole evening, she realised she was being fanciful.
The fact was, he was promised to another.
“Good night, Mrs Hodge. Sleep well.” Lizzy bobbed a curtsey. Although she was tired, she saw she was the first to leave the festivities, and although she thought about making a last-minute objection, the state of continual warfare that had reigned in the household during the year since she’d left the last of the Ladies Seminaries she’d attended had been more exhausting than she’d realised at the time. If she could be patient a little longer, freedom beckoned.
“Thank you, Lizzy. And don’t you be diverted by the wondrous antiquities in the Long Gallery, either. I want you to wake me with hot chocolate at nine o’clock as I have some letters to write, and I wish you to read the news sheets to me.” Though Lizzy knew she really meant the gossip sheets. Mrs Hodge looked vastly pleased with her, for once and, when Dalgleish mother and son had taken their leave, went so far as to say as she walked Lizzy to the door, “Matters are proceeding very well, and I do not want you to spoil the harmony and goodwill I feel towards you right now. You would do well to continue as you have, my girl.”
Lizzy had no wish to see the harmony between them spoiled, either. So, although the delicious smell of beeswax from the flickering candles, and the beautiful jewels and gowns of the young ladies, now seemed too enticing to making her want to go, she did so.
Furthermore, when she entered the vast Long Gallery, she was determined to keep her eyes on the ground in front of her and not be distracted by a sideways glance at the marble statues and coats of armour that Lord Quamby and his forebears had acquired during the Grand Tour.
She was so busy trying to focus her thoughts upon a lifetime of bliss as Harry’s wife that she almost walked right into what she quickly discovered was an exchange that should have been very private.
Fortunatel
y, she also discovered she could duck behind a large decoupage screen so as to wait, unobserved, until it was safe to pass.
But it was uncomfortable to bear witness to someone else’s distress, she found, as she heard the words, “Yet again you fail to do me proud. You are not entirely without attractions, Susan, and yet you certainly do not make them visible to me. Or to the company you keep. Can you at least try to give the appearance that you are not the unhappiest woman in Essex?”
Lizzy put her hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp. This was Mrs Hodge’s Susan, she realised when she heard the bitter reply. “Play-acting was discouraged in my household. It is hard to pretend what I am not.”
“Is it children? Or the lack of? By God, do you know how hard I try to be a good husband? But your barren womb and your barren heart make it all but impossible. Please smile at least some of the time we are forced to be together in company.”
“Like you do when we are alone? You do not, Richard. You never smile at me except when I am in company. You are never kind to me except when we are in company. As for my barren heart, it is hardly likely to flower given the way you press your attentions on me every night in an attempt to prove that it is I who is responsible for our childlessness. I spoke to the doctor who attended Mrs Moore when she delivered her sixth child. He agreed with the midwife who said begetting children was a shared responsibility, and that it was not always the woman who is at fault.”
“It certainly isn’t mine.”
“But you forever tell me it is mine. Do you not understand, Richard, what it is to be continually blamed, and to continually suffer the act in the belief that there is nothing to change the situation? Why do you still come to my bed if you believe nothing can be gained from it? Why subject me to your scorn and your disappointment?”
There was a harsh laugh at this. Lizzy, meanwhile, was cringing with horror at what she was hearing—and which she barely understood—and the fear of being caught eavesdropping.
“At least there is some pleasure to be had, even if the object is fruitless. You are not so naïve as to misunderstand that, Susan.”
“Then perhaps you could try and extend that…pleasure to include not making me your vassal…or your vessel.” There was a sound of feet on floorboards and then Susan’s strangled words, “You wouldn’t hit me for voicing the simple desire of every wife?”
“I have never hit you, and you know it.”
“But you have threatened me enough times for me to wonder when you will.”
“God, woman, but you have given me a lifetime of vexations.”
Lizzy stifled her own cry. Should she show herself and perhaps prevent violence? Then Susan’s voice sounded, dignified, and cutting, “I have put a roof over your head, Richard, thanks to what you earned from the transaction. Had I known how deep you were in, how desperately you wanted my fortune, not me, do you not think I’d have looked elsewhere?”
“So, it’s come to this!”
“I wish it had a long time ago. It is good to finally speak plainly. The truth is, I deplore being married to you, Richard.”
Lizzy pressed her hand more firmly to her mouth. She couldn’t believe it. Was this really lily-livered Susan speaking so boldly to her own husband? Oh dear lord, they must never know she’d heard a word, though it was not just what they’d said. It was the awful misery she could hear in Susan’s voice.
Her husband spoke again, his tone cold and overbearing. “You were never very clever at choosing your moments, Susan. Tonight, we share the same bed. And we are on our way to bed. I think I shall need to show you why continued marital relations are in our mutual best interests.”
“I shall deny you.”
“You cannot. It is against the law.”
“I shall leave you.”
“And you would have nothing. No Susan, think wisely on this. The law and the power are on my side. I have it all. Now, come to bed. If you apologise prettily, I shall forgive you. I can be tender; you know I can.” He drew in a breath through his nostrils and laughed softly. “When it is in my interests. I think this conversation has established where we stand. But you are my wife and there’s an end to it. Let us to bed.”
“I shall follow,” Susan said simply though there were tears in her voice.
Lizzy heard the rustle of her dress and her soft footsteps, as if she were pacing back and forth. Then her voice, once more. “If you intend to be as kind as you say you will, please give me a few minutes to collect myself.” She took a shuddering breath. “I shall come shortly.”
In tense silence, Lizzy waited. After a few moments, she heard Susan’s soft footsteps heading towards the door through which her husband had exited and believing it safe, stepped out from behind the screen, just as Susan, who was now sitting on the window seat below a large portrait of the third earl who had built magnificent Quamby House, looked up.
“Lizzy!” she cried, bringing her hands to her now flushed face. “How long have you been hiding there?”
“I wasn’t hiding. Not intentionally,” Lizzy protested, stepping closer, as she really had no choice. “I am sorry for hearing what was not for my ears.”
The corner of Susan’s mouth turned up though her expression remained grim. “I am sure you didn’t understand a word,” she muttered.
“I … I understood enough to know that you are not happy. And I am sorry for it.”
An unexpected light shone in Susan’s eyes and she gave a half laugh. “Why, I believe you are the first person who has ever voiced such a sentiment. I am so beneath my mother’s regard that my happiness is of no account, even to her.” Stiffening, she added, “And you must know that your happiness is of no account to her, either.”
“Oh, I know that. But…I do think that Mr Dalgleish is a fine gentleman. Certainly, he seems kind and to consider my happiness.” Comparing smiling, charming Mr Dalgleish with cold and contemptuous Sir Richard could not be more different.
Susan stared at her dancing slippers. Her shoulders were slumped, and she seemed to be only half attending. “Has he asked you yet to marry him?”
“I expect it will happen during the Yuletide Ball.” Lizzy thought of the snatches of conversation they’d had that evening and went on, “He began to say something during the last dance. You know, I stood up with him three times, so it is tantamount to declaring myself. However, I said I wanted to feel I knew him a little better before I considered any proposal.”
“Very wise.” Susan nodded. With a sigh, she rose. “And now it is late, and you need your beauty sleep.”
Lizzy pressed her lips together, took a deep breath, then asked in a rush, “Susan, can I ask you something?”
The other young woman looked at the door as if she’d rather leave but gave a slight nod.
“Your talk on…children. I didn’t understand…” She trailed off.
“What, exactly, did you not understand?”
Lizzy frowned. “I…I don’t know what question to begin with. It is just that, as I heard what I couldn’t help hearing, it put all sorts of questions into my head. So many, that I don’t know where to start.”
Susan gave a short laugh. “Since my mother has clearly given you as much elucidation as she did me on the subject, I suppose the least I can do is answer your questions with as much frankness as will be helpful to you when you consider what will be required of you by your husband.”
“Children are a natural consequence of marriage; I know that,” Lizzy said slowly.
Susan nodded.
“But…they don’t magically appear. It is the woman’s responsibility to bear children, I do know that, now, though it wasn’t too long ago that I believed that they were collected from the cabbage patch.”
The moonlight that slanted through a chink in the curtains illuminated Susan’s face. Five years ago, she had been all bones and angles, but maturity had softened her. Perhaps not her character, but her looks, certainly. Her ghost of a smile was swept away by a look that was pained and occasioned
clearly by distaste.
“A man and a woman beget a child when the man lies with the woman and…certain intimacies take place, which creates the child who will emerge nine months later.”
Lizzy put her hand to her mouth. “Intimacies like kissing?”
“That can be the prelude.”
Now Lizzy truly gasped. “Oh Susan, I let Harry kiss me under the mistletoe earlier tonight. Now I will have to marry him.”
“Kissing on its own is perfectly acceptable and does not mean you will either beget a child or be required to accept a marriage proposal if you decide against it at the end of these few days. Now it is late, and we both must go to our beds.” Susan started to walk towards the door. Her face looked pale and drawn. “Richard does not like to be kept waiting and will consider he’s been patient long enough.” With her hand on the doorknob, she turned, then unexpectedly caressed Lizzy’s cheek. “Good night, Lizzy. Sleep well and do think hard on what I’ve said. I don’t know Mr Dalgleish, but I do know my mother, and if she’s so taken with this union between you both, then that is enough for me to caution you. You must act according to your own inclination—not hers.”
Chapter 12
Theodore tried to convince himself that it had not been too bad an evening as he considered whether or not to go to bed once Amelia had left the entertainment and he’d found himself bereft of company.
Of course, he was well used to a chilly reception. The events of the past year had cemented his determination to eschew reckless gambling and low society. However, in the absence of invitations from polite society, that seemed his only recourse.