Chapter 13 A Suitor
In the garden, the first signs of spring began to emerge from winter’s iron grip.
Snowdrops edged the paths, and here and there in sheltered spots primroses brought their own sunshine to the shrubbery.
Sophia and her sisters took advantage of a milder spell to explore further afield than the formal gardens, venturing across the river to explore the woods beyond.
They returned one day to see a mud-bespattered travelling chaise being driven away to the stables, as footmen laboured with several items of luggage.
“Visitors?” Charlotte said.
“Ooh, exciting!” said Augusta.
“Who can it be? No one is expected, I think,” Maria said.
“Cousin Hester did not mention any arrivals,” Charlotte said. “Perhaps it is one of the duchess’s sisters.”
“There was a coat of arms on the chaise,” Sophia said.
“Ooh, nobility!”
“Quick, quick, let us find out who it is.”
Augusta’s longer legs took her up the front steps before any of the others, where she almost crashed into Froggett. He smiled paternally at her, and beamed at the three following close behind her.
“Who is it, Froggett?” Charlotte said. “Anyone we might know?”
“It is the Lord Daniel Torbuck, madam.”
The sisters gasped in excitement. Sophia gasped too, with a queer shivery feeling, as if she were about to succumb to the influenza.
Lord Daniel! He could only be here to see her, surely?
But no — she must not assume that every acquaintance who happened to appear at Staineybank had arrived on her account.
That would be foolishly presumptuous of her.
Perhaps he was just passing, or brought a message from his father to the duke, for these peers all knew each other.
The others, whispering together in awed voices, were in no doubt. “Oh, Sophia! How wonderful for you,” Maria breathed.
“Where… where is his lordship, Froggett?” Sophia said, her voice unnaturally high, but she could not quite master it, not yet. The shock was too overwhelming.
“Upstairs putting off the dirt of his journey, madam,” Froggett said, his smile widened. “Her grace wishes you to know that she and Mrs Roland Merrington will expect you in the White Drawing Room whenever you have divested yourselves of your outer garments.”
The White Drawing Room! The most formal room in the house, used only in the evenings, or for very important guests. So Mama and the duchess were according this visit its proper solemnity.
The sisters tore up the stairs to hurl away cloaks and pelisses, bonnets and gloves. Kitty was waiting for Sophia, a fresh gown already laid out, one of her newest ones.
“Madam said you’re to wear this one, Miss Sophia,” she said, eyes shining with excitement. “I’m to make sure your hair’s neat, too.”
Sophia understood. The arrival of a potential suitor was too important a matter for an ordinary day dress.
She submitted meekly to Kitty’s ministrations, although it was hard to be still when she was quivering with anticipation.
What would he say? Would he be eager to see her again or restrained?
And how should she respond to him? She was pleased to see him, naturally, but…
somewhere deep inside her was a fluttering of alarm.
She might be on the brink of receiving her first offer…
she could even be married by midsummer. Heavens!
After so many years of dashed hopes, she was not at all sure how she felt about that.
When Kitty was satisfied that her appearance would bring the appropriate credit to the family, Sophia left her room, to find her sisters waiting on the landing for her, eyes wide with delicious anticipation.
Arm in arm, they descended the main staircase in a sedate manner, for heaven forfend that they arrive out of breath or dishevelled in any way.
Froggett was loitering at the foot of the stairs, awaiting their arrival.
He led them at a stately pace into the Marble Hall, where Henry and Robert stood ready to throw open the high doors to the White Drawing Room.
Froggett led them through, and bowed as they entered.
“Ah, here they are, Lord Daniel,” Mama trilled, from her seat at the far side of the room. “My girls.”
And there he was, looking just as he had at Marshfields, jumping to his feet and smiling, smiling… he saw the four of them, his eyes scanned them, the smile slipped and the strangest expression flashed across his face. It was almost as if he were horrified… but how could that be?
“Lord Daniel,” Sophia said, stepping forward into the room. “What an unexpected pleasure to see you again so soon.”
She did not ask why he was there. Presumably he would have some reason prepared, but she left that to him to articulate.
His face cleared, and the odd expression was replaced with a wide smile. “Miss Merrington… how delightful! I was just telling your mama… and her grace… how you had told me so much about Staineybank and its glories, that I had to see for myself.”
Well, that excuse would do as well as any other. “Campbell,” she said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Campbell, I believe. The architect. It is magnificent, is it not?” He blinked at her, and seeing that he had nothing further to say on the subject of architecture, she went on, “You had a tolerable journey, I trust. Have you come far?”
“From… from Gloucestershire… near Cheltenham… my father’s seat at Pentavon Castle.
” He fell silent, looking behind Sophia at the doorway where her sisters, she presumed, still stood, waiting to be introduced, and there was that odd expression on his face again.
Surely she had mentioned her sisters? She was certain she had.
He could not be surprised by them. But she had not introduced them…
“Oh — allow me to make my sisters known to you, Lord Daniel. My eldest sister, Charlotte… and Augusta… and that is Maria.”
The three made their curtsies, then they sat in a row on a sofa, near enough to hear the conversation but not so close as to be required to participate.
Sophia sat beside her mother, with the duchess nearby, while Lord Daniel pulled up a chair to sit beside her, and after that all was easy.
Sophia and Lord Daniel chatted as comfortably as they had at Marshfields, the conversation helped along by the occasional word from Mama or the duchess.
And in no time, the afternoon had flown by and it was time to dress for dinner.
***
The irrepressible Robert brought the news to Simon with his evening washing water.
“Lord Daniel Torbuck, he is. Son of the Markiss of… of Something. Very happy to see Miss Sophia, he is.”
“The Marquess of Pentavon,” Simon said automatically, although with a frown. Lord Daniel here… that could only mean a serious courtship. He was not sure he liked the sound of that.
“Oh, you know him, then?” Robert said, pouring water into the washbowl, and only slopping a little over the side. “I s’pose all you great families know each other.”
“I met him at Marshfields.”
He had danced twice with Sophia at the ball, and then hung around her, and if he had now come to see her again, that was surely a good thing.
Perhaps he would propose and then she would have the husband and children and a house of her own that she craved so badly.
Although Torbuck was only a younger son, so unless he had a profession, he would be dependent on his father.
At least his father would support his son, he thought morosely, unlike Simon’s.
When he descended to the White Drawing Room, Torbuck was already there, with his expensively fashionable clothes and immaculately white neckcloth. Simon had no desire to cut a dash, but he envied Torbuck his supplies of new linen, or the skilled laundrymaid who kept them looking so.
Torbuck was making polite conversation with Godley, the chaplain, and Hammond, the secretary, but he willingly turned to Simon when he drew near.
“We met at Marshfields, as you might recall,” he said. “Payne, Simon Payne.”
“Ah yes. How are you?”
“Well. Have you come from Pentavon?”
“I have, yes.”
“Motte and bailey. Original. Very interesting place.”
Torbuck burst out laughing. “It is a damnably uncomfortable place to live, I assure you, all howling draughts and dampness. Never warm, even in midsummer. Give me a cosy modern house any day.”
The Merrington ladies arrived just then, Mrs Merrington a little in front and two pairs of sisters behind her, arm in arm, as usual looking almost identical.
Simon was amused to see a slightly panicked look on Torbuck’s face, and realised he could not pick Sophia out of the group.
What an awkward dilemma for him! How was he supposed to court her when he could not recognise her?
Taking pity on him, Simon murmured, “What a pretty gown Miss Sophia is wearing! That shade of blue sets off her complexion perfectly, does it not? And the amber cross is charming.”
Relief flooded Torbuck’s features. “Yes… indeed. Charming… quite charming.”
He stepped forward to speak to Sophia, who blushed and lowered her head shyly.
She was certainly charming, or at least she was managing to charm Lord Daniel.
Simon was surprised at the intensity of the pain that shot through him as he watched them.
Even though his head told him very clearly that he could never aspire to her hand, his heart, it seemed, was paying no attention.
He had come, by insensible degrees, to regard Sophia as his, in some indefinable way.
Not as a wife, but as a friend… one for whom he felt a great affection.
Now he saw that for the presumption that it was.
She would never have been his, never, and the thought left him with an emptiness inside.
Juliet appeared at his shoulder, and drew him aside, whispering, “He is as fine as fivepence, would you not say? Look how he smirks at her! He will cut you out, if you are not careful, brother.”
“I can hardly compete with the son of a marquess, sister,” Simon said glumly.