Chapter 4 An Eligible Man
Simon was enjoying his third or possibly fourth cup of coffee, and pondering the delights of a proper breakfast, in which mutton chops featured prominently, when Richard Merrington came in, nodded to everyone, scowled at Simon and then waited.
Without being asked, the butler placed a plate of ham and the toast basket in front of him.
A creature of habit, then. Detecting a chill in the atmosphere, Simon rose to retreat.
Without looking up from his plate, Merrington said, “I am required by his grace to show you my work so far on the orangery, Mr Payne, and discuss the requirements with you.”
“I had sooner discuss the requirements with the duke,” Simon said, prompting a hiss of alarm from Juliet.
Merrington frowned. “Nevertheless, those are my instructions, and therefore yours.”
“I am at your disposal, Mr Merrington.”
“Are you indeed?” he said, his tone flat.
Simon waited politely until Merrington had consumed his ham, two slices of toast with strawberry jam and a single cup of coffee. Then he followed him through several apartments he had not seen before, up a stair and into a large study, decorated in a lighter style than the other rooms he had seen.
“This is very elegant,” he said, slowly spinning round to admire the delicate colours on the walls. “That table — Sheraton?”
“It is. I like the simplicity of his style.”
“These paintings are good, too. Yours?”
“Not my work, no. I have no skill with oils. That set came from my estate at Leahollow, in Norfolk.”
“Why do you live here if you have an estate in Norfolk?”
“Because I am the duke’s heir and his grace requires me to be here,” Merrington said tersely. Then, after a moment’s silence, he exhaled slowly. “I beg your pardon. That was uncivil of me. You do not know the circumstances, after all.”
“My fault,” Simon said equably. “I am inclined to say whatever comes into my head.”
Merrington gave a bark of laughter. “That is refreshingly honest. The truth is that I am not at all comfortable with my new position as official heir.”
“New position? How is that? Is the duchess—?” He saw the expression on Merrington’s face, and realised he was treading on dangerous ground. “None of my business, is it?”
“It is no secret. The duke has been married three times, has sired innumerable children, including four sons. All have died, the most recent only last June, a boy of six. At that point, his grace surrendered the battle and sent for me. Until then, I was quite happy as a lowly country gentleman with a modest estate.”
“Leahollow. This one here?” He pointed to a framed pencil drawing hanging above the desk.
“Yes. It has been leased out for some years, since I preferred to live in Norwich.”
“And here you are buried in the country again.”
Merrington gave a rueful smile. “Indeed. I should not complain — indeed, I do not, for we are kept in the utmost luxury, and his grace has generously opened his doors to my entire family.”
“And you met your wife here,” Simon said, still prowling round looking at the pictures on the walls.
“Yes!”
There was so much animation in the single word that Simon looked at him in surprise, to see a smile of such warmth that he almost felt embarrassed. There was a man who adored his wife!
Almost at once the smile faded, to be replaced with a much more anxious expression. “If only this baby were born! The waiting is so hard.”
“Hoping for a son?”
“I care nothing for that, so long as my wife survives the ordeal,” he said savagely.
“I hate this waiting, knowing that any day could be her last on this earth. The duke lost his first duchess that way, so naturally we are all… nervous.” He heaved a sigh.
“There is nothing to be done about it. God’s will, and so forth.
” Another sigh. “Well, shall we make a start, Payne? I am to show you my sketches, and also the drawing I made of the orangery at Marshfields.”
“Marshfields?”
“Home of the Duke of Camberley, to whom my wife is related. Distantly related… and on the wrong side of the blanket.”
Simon chuckled. “There is one of those in every family, so they say. Not always acknowledged, though. Your family history is… complicated.”
That brought a wintry smile. “So it is. My sketches are over here.”
***
Sophia had breakfast with Mama and her sisters in their own little apartment, as usual. She was wild to go downstairs and find out more about the intriguing Mr Payne, and her sisters were so minded too, but Mama was adamant.
“This is the home of a duke, girls, and I will not have you scampering about chasing eligible men like hoydens. You will be dignified and restrained, and remain ladylike at all times.”
“We can be dignified and ladylike just as well in the breakfast parlour as here,” Charlotte said, not unreasonably.
“We are never hoydenish,” Augusta said with dignity.
“Nor do we scamper,” Maria said. “At least, I do not.”
“None of us do,” Charlotte said firmly. Being the eldest, she was the most certain of the rightness of her opinions.
“Nevertheless,” Mama said, “it would be seen to be putting yourselves forward, and the duke would frown upon it. We must at all costs do nothing to give him cause to send us away. He is happy for us to befriend the duchess, and we make ourselves useful where we can. I am helping Cousin Hester and Charlotte is tidying up the household accounts, and I am sure the rest of you are finding ways to help out.”
“I am exercising the horses,” Augusta said quickly.
“Yes, the two mounts trained to accept a side saddle,” Charlotte said, making the others laugh.
“Oh, the grooms can ride the men’s horses, but only a lady can ride a lady’s horse,” Augusta said, her chin rising.
“I am providing a necessary service, but I am not sure that Maria or Sophia are finding useful ways to occupy themselves. Maria lounges around in the library all day and I do not even know what Sophia does with herself.”
“Wishes she were dancing,” Maria said, with a sympathetic smile. “It is all very well for the rest of us, who are quite content to be buried in the country since we have our favourite occupations here, but Sophia must be missing Norwich and the assemblies.”
Sophia sighed gustily. “Oh, the assemblies! And we cannot even get to the piffling little assemblies in Brinchester for this foul weather, and it will soon be Lent and there will be no pleasure to be had until Easter.”
The ladies sighed in unison, for although Sophia loved a ball above all things, her sisters never missed an opportunity for dancing either, for how else were four spinsters ever to find husbands? And that thought brought Sophia back to the intriguing new gentleman at Staineybank.
“Is Mr Payne eligible, Mama, would you say?”
“Why certainly, dear! The son of an earl — how can you even ask the question?”
“I do not think he has very much money. He said his father keeps him in poverty, and his clothes are shockingly worn.”
“Unmarried gentlemen are often careless of their appearance, Sophia. Once they start thinking of matrimony, they generally become very smart, and I am sure Mr Payne will do so, too. Bachelors spend their allowances on gaming and horses and… well, other things, but once they have a wife and children to support, they become perfectly respectable.”
“What other things?” Maria said.
“Male things,” her mother said, with pursed lips.
“Are you saying he is not respectable now?” she persisted.
“Really, Maria!” her mother said, rather flustered.
“All these questions are most unbecoming. You need only know that Mr Payne is most eligible, and if one of you should have the good fortune to attract him, then your brother will enquire into his exact financial position, so you need not be concerned. His father will want him to be suitably settled, and what could be more suitable than an alliance with the Duke of Brinshire’s family? ”
“So we may try to entice him?” Charlotte said.
Her mother winced at such plain speaking. “You have my approval to get to know him better, and if he should like one of you… well, let us see what happens, shall we?”
“I wonder if he rides?” Augusta said.
“I am sure he will be very learned,” Maria said. “One cannot be an architect without knowing a great deal.”
“Only of art,” Charlotte said loftily. “I doubt he reads poetry, Maria. If he is purse-pinched, he will be looking for a wife who knows how to keep house economically.”
Sophia said nothing. She was more interested in whether Mr Payne could dance, but she was unlikely to find that out soon.
The others soon fell into their usual man-hunting conversation, of strategy and the proper means of taking turns with him, which always resolved itself into Charlotte claiming the superiority of age and the others loudly denouncing any such idea.
Sophia had heard it all before, and no matter what schemes they dreamt up, they always ended in disappointment.
This time would be no different, she was sure.
And she would not mind a bit, if only she could dance now and then.
Glumly, she crumbled her breakfast roll and tried to count in her head the number of weeks until Easter, and the next certain assembly.
***