Chapter 11
‘Oof, my feet are killing me. But the pain was worth it to spend time with him.’ Harriet flopped onto our bed and kicked off her slippers. Tendrils of hair had come loose from her tight updo, and her muslin was slightly worse for wear. But her face was glowing, and I had never seen her look happier.
Harriet had danced almost every dance with Mr Pringle apart from one, when she’d pleaded for refreshment, and he’d raced off to the supper room. Upon his return, he’d supplied her with a goblet of lemonade and a plate of tasty morsels he’d hand-picked especially for her from the supper table. Then he’d taken her on a sedate tour of his library to provide a respite from dancing.
She’d told me all this in the carriage upon our return. We’d gone back home with Aunt after the dance, leaving Papa and Mr Humbleton to get a lift with a neighbour. Mr Pringle had invited them to stay on for longer and drink port and play cards with a few other gentlemen.
Aunt had given a disapproving tsk when she heard about the library tour. ‘That was not appropriate. You and he left alone together in a room? I do wish you’d come and found me, Harriet. I would have gladly accompanied you.’
‘There was a small party of us, Aunt, including Mr Fitzroy and Lady Whiteley. Besides, Evan is a gentleman. He always behaves with the utmost propriety.’
My heart had jumped at Mr Fitzroy’s name ... but sank as soon as I’d heard that he had been accompanying that woman. I’d slumped back in the seat, the carriage wall bouncing against my spine, feeling exhausted from the onslaught of emotions I’d experienced throughout the evening: anticipation, surprise, excitement, wonderment, jealousy ... They were all there in varying forms and strengths from being subjected to that man.
Then there had been the vexation of dancing with my cousin and the energy I’d expended at having to avoid him thereafter. I was so busy keeping watch for him and flitting around the room that it was no wonder Mr Fitzroy hadn’t made good on his promise to ask me for any more dances. However, that too may have been because Rosalind had sabotaged his company for the rest of the evening—something that made my blood boil every time I thought of it. Her looks, clothes, and jewels denoted her as very wealthy indeed; and it was making me extremely aware of my lower status. Even though Mr Fitzroy’s glances and words denoted an attraction, surely, he wouldn’t pursue me when there was a woman of higher class right in front of him? It depressed me wholly to think he might end up marrying her without me being considered in the slightest, especially now I had decided that I might quite like him to consider me. But I couldn’t do anything about it. I just had to hope she’d take herself off back to London—alone.
‘You were the belle of the ball,’ I said to Harriet now, sitting on the other side of the bed and plastering a bright smile on my face. ‘And the envy of every single woman there. It was plain to see he is captivated by you.’
She looked over at me, a dreamy smile playing across her lips. ‘And I with him. Oh, Fliss, I cannot believe that he won’t propose—it feels right ... in here.’ She pressed a hand to her heart.
I nodded. ‘Did he say anything that might suggest that he will?’
‘No, but it can’t be much longer, can it?’
‘I’m sure that it won’t be,’ I said encouragingly.
Indeed, now that I had intended to live vicariously through Harriet’s good fortune rather than bemoan my lack of it, I hoped Mr Pringle would go down on bended knee and as soon as humanly possible!
I had two more days of Mr Humbleton to put up with, and then I could reclaim my room—something I was looking forward to immensely. Although sharing with Harriet wasn’t a burden, her continual happy humming was starting to grate on my nerves. And try as I might, I couldn’t stop thinking about Mr Fitzroy and our one and only dance; the memory of how he’d looked at me and what he’d said was making me jittery. I wished I could be alone and muse about it and sort out my feelings, but I had to keep them to myself for the meantime. But would he still call on Tuesday afternoon to collect his hat? I had no clue.
Any time there was a knock on the front door, my heart fluttered, and my stomach leapt. But so far, there had been no letter of cancellation. I had to assume then that he was still calling. The thought filled me with light-headed anticipation. I couldn’t for the life of me imagine what we would say to each other in a staid parlour setting.
On Monday afternoon, when Harriet and I were in that very same room, doing a little linen embroidery, time was running out; and I knew I had to tell her he was calling. But there didn’t seem to be a right way to say it without causing undue fuss .
‘Did he ... Did Mr Fitzroy say anything to you when you were in the library ... at the dance ... about calling this week?’ I managed to get out in a fluster.
Harriet glanced at me curiously. ‘He didn’t. Did he say he would call on you?’
I tried to focus on my stitching, but it blurred before my eyes. ‘Ah, he said he might pop by on Tuesday at three o’clock to fetch his hat.’
She sat up straighter. ‘Why did you not say so before?’
‘It is just an errand,’ I said. ‘And of no consequence.’
‘Exactly. Which is why he could have sent a servant to do it. But he has not.’
We stared at each other in silence. My heart thumped in my ears.
‘Should I go and ask Sue to bake a cake then?’ I asked slowly, laying my sewing aside.
‘If you don’t want him to eat dry biscuits with his tea, then you must!’
‘Will you be here to play chaperone?’
She nodded. ‘Of course. I wouldn’t mention it to Aunt, though. Otherwise, word will have spread around the village before the day is out. Let us hope she doesn’t decide to pop round when he calls.’
Feeling more confident about Mr Fitzroy’s visit, I tripped off to the kitchen in search of Sue. I thought of what Jane had said about giving him pound cake, but it sounded much too dreary. No, surely, he’d find a light, but decadent sponge covered with jam and whipped cream much more memorable.
On Tuesday morning, I followed Harriet downstairs for breakfast with a lightness in my step. Mr Humbleton was leaving, and Mr Fitzroy was calling—it was going to be a joyous day!
We took our seats in the dining room as Mary finished laying out the various dishes. I decided to have a sizeable helping of scrambled eggs to fortify myself for the afternoon’s event. Other ladies may have declined such a large breakfast, but I always became ravenous when I was nervous.
Mr Humbleton appeared and greeted us. I nodded to him and grabbed a roll in case he insisted on buttering one for me again. The sound of his carriage wheels disappearing down the road couldn’t come fast enough in my opinion.
I planned to spend the rest of the morning transferring my belongings back to my room, throwing open the windows, and giving it a thorough airing to rid it of his scent. I hardly liked to sleep in my bed since he had lain in it, but I hoped clean linens would be enough of an exorcism (and maybe hanging several bunches of lavender around the room).
‘Good morning, everyone,’ said Papa upon entering and took his place at the top of the table.
‘Morning, Papa!’ Harriet and I chimed. Our cousin murmured his reply and kept peeling a boiled egg.
‘You were up early this morning, Papa,’ commented Harriet. ‘I saw you strolling in the garden. ’
‘Yes.’ He glanced at Mr Humbleton. ‘I’ve had some things on my mind lately.’
Was it my imagination, or did Mr Humbleton’s lips curl into a smug smile as he bit into his egg?
‘Are you all packed for your journey, cousin?’ I asked, determined to hurry him along. ‘It may rain later, so you may want to leave directly after breakfast to avoid a muddy journey.’
Mr Humbleton gave me a tight smile, and his tongue moved under his top lip like an eel, extracting egg from his teeth before speaking; my toes curled in revulsion.
‘I have not packed just yet. But I thank you for your concern about the roads, dear cousin. It is most thoughtful of you.’
I nodded and continued eating my breakfast in silence, trying to keep my jubilant mood intact, though I felt something like dread pressing upon me. Please, God , I begged silently, just let him leave—and soon!
But as long as he vacated before Mr Fitzroy’s visit, there was no reason to be concerned. And the reorganising of my room could take place at any time. I could even spend another night in with Harriet and do it tomorrow.
I’d just finished my last mouthful of food and was leaning back, replete, when Mr Humbleton cleared his throat and announced, ‘If I may, I would like a private audience with Miss Felicity. ’
I sucked in my breath. Oh noooo! Whipping my head around, I tried to catch Papa’s eye. But he was already dabbing his mouth with his napkin and rising, his breakfast half finished. ‘Of course,’ he said. So there was no help to be had there!
Harriet was also rising, but she at least had the grace to look as horrified as I felt.
‘Please stay,’ I mouthed.
She shook her head slightly.
‘Harriet.’ I made to grab her arm, but she was up and moving, following hot on Papa’s heels. The dining room door slammed shut behind the two of them. I was alone, trapped by my cousin and bound by the laws of propriety that demanded I stay and listen to the dreaded speech that was about to come out of his mouth.
Staring fixedly at my egg-smeared plate, I sensed him leave his chair and come round to my side of the table. He made a gurgling noise to clear his throat, but I steadfastly refused to look at him.
There was a rustle of starched fabric as he sank to one knee.
Oh heavens above , I thought. This refusal is going to be most excruciating, but he has brought it upon himself.
‘My dear cousin ... Miss Felicity,’ he began. ‘Throughout this fortnight of being in your company, I have become enamoured by your considerable charms ...’
I didn’t speak a word.
He coughed and went on, ‘I have deduced from staying in your bedroom that you and I would make an excellent match ...’
I could keep quiet no longer and pierced him with a glare. ‘That’s ridiculous! How on earth could you deduce that? Did the four walls tell you?’ I scoffed. ‘Cousin, you may have been staying in my room, but I was most decidedly not in it with you!’
‘Pray, my apologies. Let me reword,’ he said, sounding rattled, his ears bright red. I pressed my lips together in agitation. ‘What I meant to say was, from my vantage point in your bedroom, I could see you set off on your daily walks. And I saw how you delighted in nature and all her esteemed bounties. This, I thought, was a lady who loved nature as much as I, and I rejoiced at finding a kindred spirit.’
So he’d been spying on me from my own bedroom window. I fought the urge to shudder violently.
‘Sir—’ I started, but he cut me off.
‘So if you would do me the honour of being my wife, I would forever be indebted to you,’ he finished in a hurry, undoubtedly wanting to wrap things up. ‘Your father has given me permission to propose, and we have spoken at length about the entail. After much discussion, he came to the same conclusion as I—that it is to your great advantage if we marry.’
I closed my eyes, feeling betrayed. Papa, how could you?
There was no way this marriage would ever take place. I would rather throw myself off a cliff than marry Mr Humbleton.
He continued talking about where we would live, as if mentioning his ‘small, but comfortable house in West Hertfordshire’ would sway me to his line of reasoning—it did not. Then he switched to the wedding itself. ‘I was thinking the end of March. The weather is warmer, and you could wear spring flowers in your—’
‘Sir, you are too hasty. I have not given you an answer!’ I cried. ‘I am flattered at your proposing to me. But I do not love you, and I am convinced you do not love me in return. If I’ve given you any reason to believe that I have that kind of affection towards you, then I am sorry for it. But I do not. So unfortunately, I must decline your offer.’ Or fortunately, whichever way you wanted to look at it.
Mr Humbleton didn’t move from his bended-knee position. A fleeting look of panic crossed his face. I am not sure what he would have said next if Papa hadn’t burst into the room, smiling from ear to ear and offering a hearty ‘Congratulations!’ Harriet trailed behind with wide eyes.
My cousin rose dazedly, only to have his hand pumped enthusiastically by Papa.
‘She has declined my offer,’ he said stiffly.
There was an uncomfortable silence.
‘Felicity, what is the meaning of this?’ asked Papa in a low voice.
‘It is simple, Papa. I do not want to marry him, and you cannot make me,’ I said, folding my arms defiantly.
‘I can, and I will. How dare you turn down your cousin’s most generous proposal,’ he said through gritted teeth. I glanced at Harriet, and I could see that Papa’s demeanour had shocked her too. I’d never seen him look so angry. It cut me to the bone that he wasn’t considering my feelings in the slightest. What had Mr Humbleton been blackmailing him with to get him to this point?
‘I do not want to, Papa,’ I repeated as steadily as I could.
‘You. Will. Marry. Him,’ he stated now, pointing a shaking finger at me.
‘No, please! I can’t, Papa!’ I was starting to feel truly worried now.
Mr Humbleton bobbed up and down on his toes, looking from Papa to me like an anxious ferret. ‘Sir, I can see that my proposal has been somewhat distressing for all concerned, something I had not planned for.’ He gave Papa an accusing look to convey he should have better prepared me. ‘I shall go for a walk to let things calm down a little, and perhaps you may help Miss Felicity to see reason. ’
He made a short sharp bow to the room in general and swiftly left, closing the door softly behind him. Minutes later, I caught sight of his figure passing by the window, mopping his face with a handkerchief.
If he thought I could be talked into seeing reason, he could think again!
Papa sat down in the chair opposite me, his face drained and pale after his outburst. It was not like him to get so worked up.
‘What has he been saying to you?’ I demanded. ‘There must have been something to cause such a reaction. I cannot seriously believe you would think I would marry a man I do not love.’ I grasped his hands in mine. ‘You know me, Papa! I could not!’
He sighed and glanced at the portrait of our mother on the wall. ‘What one desires and what one gets in this life are two different things. I am sorry, Felicity, that it has come to this. He initially wanted Harriet, but I could not in good faith promise her to him because of Mr Pringle’s singular attention that suggests he will indeed propose. It would be a most beneficial match for her.’
Harriet gave a gasp of pleasure, and I narrowed my eyes at her. A lucky escape!
‘So I’m to be our cousin’s unwilling victim simply because you do not have any more daughters to appease him with? Why can he not look elsewhere for a wife? Why do I have to be the sacrificial lamb?’
‘He said it would be ... easier,’ said Papa, averting his eyes.
I blinked. This couldn’t be happening! I was to marry a man I couldn’t stand because it was ‘easier’ for him?
I shook my head at him. ‘This is outrageous!’
‘I am truly sorry to put you in this position, but he is determined to leave here engaged.’ He spread his hands helplessly. Mr Humbleton had so much power in this situation it was unbelievable, and he was taking full advantage of it.
‘Is there perhaps another gentleman in the picture?’ Papa enquired hopefully. ‘If there was one that admired you to that extent, then I could see my way to putting him off. Is there such a man, my dear?’
Samuel crossed my mind fleetingly. If only I’d acted more enthusiastic about marrying him, I wouldn’t be in this predicament. And even though he was calling on me in a few hours, I couldn’t let myself entertain the notion that Mr Fitzroy felt even a smidgen of interest in that respect.
I shook my head despondently. ‘There is not.’
‘You could at least consider his offer, dearest,’ Harriet said tentatively. She stepped behind Papa and rested a hand on his shoulder. ‘Marrying our cousin will give you security for the rest of your life ... ’
‘But once you were married, I could live with you and Evan, could I not?’ I said, staring at her.
‘Of course you could. I believe, like Papa, that Evan’s affection is such that he will propose. Yet what if something happens to him before he does? He might fall off his horse or have a carriage accident ... However unlikely, we have to think of that. So your match with Mr Humbleton would protect me too.’
Anger bubbled up in me at her siding with Papa. To me, it looked like the two of them were in cahoots!
‘Then you marry him! He wanted you first after all!’ I cried.
‘Fliss, Papa has your best intentions at heart ...’
By this, time tears were falling down my cheeks in fast succession.
‘But I don’t love him!’ I wailed. ‘I can’t even stand talking to him, let alone him touching me!’
A vision of Mr Humbleton attempting to climb on top of me on our wedding night made me shudder violently .
And once I’d started shuddering, I couldn’t stop.