Chapter 4 An Eligible Man #2
Simon spent the whole day with Richard Merrington.
In the morning, he looked at his multitude of sketches and listened to his description of the discussions with the duke.
He was most interested in the drawings of the orangery at Marshfields, home of the Duke of Camberley, which had inspired the original idea of building one at Staineybank.
Merrington and his wife had visited the duke, who was recovering from illness and found the orangery a warm and congenial place to spend his days.
Mrs Merrington had liked the place, and Simon could see why.
Merrington’s drawings showed a light and spacious room with high windows, filled with light, and a multitude of fruit trees dotted about.
He had put the duke into his drawings, too, and his wife, which brought a sense of human scale to the magisterial dimensions of the building.
Yet when he saw Merrington’s own designs for an orangery, he saw nothing magisterial. The simple brick structures had no grandeur or elegance, they were merely practical.
“Why so small?” he said, puzzled.
“The expense!” Merrington said brusquely. “The duke may not care how much this costs, but I do.”
“Why?”
“Because… good heavens, do I have to explain it to you? The duke has a vast income now, but if he spends by the bucketful, he will very soon find himself in deep water. Or rather, I will find myself in deep water, when I inherit. There is nothing more miserable than an income inadequate for the wants of those dependent upon it.”
Having lived for half his life on an inadequate income, Simon had no argument against this point of view. Instead, he said mildly, “Is he spending by the bucketful?”
“Of course he is! His kind have no idea of money. Apart from the orangery, he is setting up an establishment for the duchess in Cheshire, near her family, and according to his grace, nothing is good enough for her. She must have the biggest house in the county, the most servants, the largest stables to house the vast number of carriages she is to have. Then he has provided lavishly for my wife and me, not to mention accommodating my wife’s friend as companion.
And then there is my mother, and my four sisters, all eating their heads off here, while the duke encourages them in every extravagance, and has even talked of putting up additional dowries for my sisters. It is madness!”
“He must know what he can afford, surely?”
“On the contrary, he never thinks of money at all, in the wild assumption that it will always be there when he needs it, and Mr Pyott — the comptroller, you know — is the most supine fellow imaginable. ‘Yes, your grace. No, your grace. Anything your grace wants.’ It is… oh! Listen to me, grumbling away as if I have any right to object to anything. I assure you, I am very grateful for my good fortune, Payne.”
“When one has developed the habit of economy, it is hard to shake it off,” Simon said neutrally.
“Exactly so! You understand the case, and you will appreciate why I do not rush to design some wildly extravagant monstrosity for this orangery. I should like it to be built, naturally, to please my wife, but it does not need to be grandiose.”
“But it must be beautiful, surely,” Simon said. “It must be in keeping with the splendour of Staineybank.”
“It is a functional room, no different from the forcing houses in the kitchen garden,” Merrington said dismissively. “A place to grow fruit, that is all, but the need for heat will make it expensive to maintain, so I am attempting to keep the scale at a level which will minimise the cost of fuel.”
Simon made no further comment on Merrington’s designs, determining that he would ask the duke for his thoughts on what sort of design he would like and let that be his guide.
Having seen all of Merrington’s sketches, he showed him his own designs and the rest of the day was spent in a comfortable discussion of the relative merits of renaissance styles and baroque, and the newly emerging picturesque designs.
***
Dinner that evening was another trial of Simon’s patience, although of a very different nature.
As soon as he crept into the drawing room, hoping to find a quiet corner from which to admire the painted ceiling, he found himself surrounded by a fragrant cloud of Merrington ladies.
He did not even recognise any of their gowns from the previous evening, so there was not the slight hope of separating them in that way.
At least they were all unmarried, so he felt safe in addressing any of them as ‘Miss Merrington’, should he find himself talking to one in particular.
But they hovered around him like a gaggle of geese, although somewhat more melodious.
He had no need to scrabble about in his mind, presently overloaded with architectural matters, for suitable topics of conversation, for they maintained the flow of words by themselves, answering their own questions and twittering so happily together that he could not have found an opening for his own thoughts had he wanted one.
It was a relief to go into dinner, although he was not surprised to find two of the four sitting smugly to either side of him, and the others, showing discontented expressions, on the opposite side of the table.
The meal drifted away with painful slowness, and he did his best, no one could say that he did not, but the sort of light-hearted conversation that Juliet said was favoured by young ladies did not come easily to him.
He did his duty, ensuring that they were served from whichever dish took their fancy, and discussing the food doggedly, for that was easy enough to talk about, but beyond that his imagination struggled.
Happily, however, the four continued to talk as much to each other as to him, even the two across the table, so his imagination was not greatly tested.
Eventually, the duchess rose to shepherd the ladies away and a blissful silence descended upon the dining room, as the butler and two footmen cleared the table and set out the port and nuts.
The port had gone round the table twice before the duke crooked a finger in Simon’s direction.
“Come and sit beside me, Payne, and tell me what you think of Richard’s efforts for this orangery, now that you have seen his designs.
Are they any good, do you think? He tells me it is important to be practical, and take the costs into account, but I should not like anything paltry, not when it is a gift to the future duchess and mother of the next heir. What is your view?”
“Practicality is certainly important,” Simon said cautiously. “However…”
“Yes?” the duke said eagerly.
“One would wish the edifice to be in keeping with the magnificence of Staineybank.”
That brought a murmur of agreement from around the table. Not from Richard Merrington, Simon noted, but that was only to be expected.
“Now that the snow has stopped, Richard must show you about the grounds,” the duke said.
“He has his own ideas regarding a suitable location for the orangery, but I should like to hear your thoughts. You will want to see the best prospects, so be sure to view the south face of the house from the far side of the lake. So you find much to admire in Staineybank, do you, Payne? The entrance hall is well done, do you not agree?”
After that, the duke only wanted to hear praise of the house, and there was no more talk of the orangery.
***
The next morning, Charlotte appeared at the Merrington ladies’ breakfast fizzing with excitement.
Taking a stance as melodramatic as an actress on the stage, she flung her arms wide and declaimed, “What do you think? Richard is to show Mr Payne over the grounds this morning. I have it directly from Weston that they are to go all round the lake and then back past the forcing houses.”
“It is to be hoped they wrap up well,” Mama said. “The snow may have stopped, but it is dreadfully cold out there.”
“Yes, yes, but do you not appreciate my meaning?” Charlotte cried. “I propose that we go for a walk ourselves. If we take the opposite direction, we shall be sure to meet them and then we may turn and walk back to the house with them.”
“Oh, what an excellent idea,” Mama said.
“I have always thought that these seemingly spontaneous meetings outdoors offer by far the most fruitful opportunities for furthering an acquaintance. Gentlemen are so much more at ease out of doors, have I not always observed it so? Did Weston say what hour the gentlemen have arranged for their outing?”
“Directly after breakfast, he said.”
“Then you had better make haste, girls. Quick, quick! Away with you now!”
Sophia was not keen on the idea of a walk in the snow, for in her experience such events led to one being cold and wet, with a red nose, but the pursuit of Mr Payne was too worthy an objective to be neglected.
Accordingly, then, the four sisters donned their warmest clothing and stoutest boots, and set off to accidentally meet their quarry.
As she had suspected, the air was cold enough to freeze a girl’s very bones, but the snow was not deep if one walked with care to avoid places where drifts had gathered.
Augusta, of course, managed to walk through the deepest piles, so that the hem of her pelisse was soaked.
Charlotte gently chided her, in her r?le as temporary mama.
As the eldest, she was always in charge whenever the sisters ventured forth without Mama.
If ever a woman had been born to be a wife and mother, it was Charlotte, with her stream of gentle admonishments and her housewifely instincts.
It was a puzzle why no man had ever seen the possibilities in her.
Sofia herself could not quite see the attraction in motherhood.
The improved status of being a married woman was a consideration, naturally, and she would quite like to be mistress of her own establishment, and not be merely the youngest, and frequently overlooked, daughter.
But to spend one’s life breeding, as Rowena seemed condemned to do, did not appeal.
As for a husband, no matter how dutifully she chased after every likely young man, and a few less likely ones, too, it had to be confessed, she had never been greatly drawn to them as companions of her heart.
There had not been a single one whom she could look at and say honestly that she would be content to meet him at breakfast every morning for the rest of her life.
Nevertheless, it was her bounden duty to do her utmost to marry, and so she set forth with her sisters in pursuit of Mr Payne.
Their efforts were in vain, however. Once they caught a glimpse of him with Richard on the far side of the lake, and occasionally there was a faint drift of their voices far away, but the only person they saw was the gamekeeper, out with his gun.
They returned to the house cold and wet, especially Augusta, and with bright red noses.
The rest of the day was spent in bemoaning their ill-fortune, and planning the next stage of their campaign.
But on one matter they were all agreed, even Mama — from now on, they would eat breakfast with the gentlemen in the breakfast parlour, a far more comfortable method of pursuit than trailing about in the snow.