Chapter 23 Despair
Sophia ran out of the Blue Parlour and crashed straight into the solid form of her brother.
“Sophia, a word, if you please.”
“Yes, but—”
“The breakfast parlour will be empty.”
“Yes, yes, but I must—”
“Now, Sophia.”
“Now?”
“Now,” he said in that uncompromising tone that she knew only too well.
Dejectedly, she crossed the Marble Hall, and he held open the door for her. At this hour, the breakfast parlour was deserted, the fire already turned to ashes.
“Will you sit?” he said in kinder tones, holding a chair for her.
She had no choice, but it was almost beyond her ability to sit still, so wild was she to see Simon again and find out all that had happened at Edlesborough.
He had been expected back much sooner, on the assumption that his father would have refused to see him, but he had stayed so long that surely he must have achieved the interview, and what had come of it?
She could not wait to hear it all. If only she could—
“Sophia, are you listening?”
“Oh… I beg your pardon. I was wool gathering.”
“What a strange girl you are, to be inattentive at such a moment. I am attempting to tell you, sister, that I have endured a very sticky interview with Torbuck. Mercifully, the stables were very swift to send round his carriage — in fact, I doubt the horses had even been unhitched.” He chuckled.
“Well, you sent him to the rightabout, and no mistake! Because he expected you to stay at home and not dance again, is that it?”
She nodded, for that was certainly a part of it.
“Foolish man! Trying to keep you or any of my sisters away from a ball is like trying to stop the moon circling the earth. I did not like him very much, to be frank, so I am not disappointed that you turned him down.”
“You are not?” That was a surprise. Then, with a quick laugh, “Mama has washed her hands of me.”
He laughed too. “She only wants you to be well settled, and it is upsetting for her to have her hopes raised and dashed, then raised and dashed again. All this coming and going… he turned up here after meeting you at Marshfields, which was perfectly acceptable, but then after two days he disappears, sends no word for several weeks, then pops up like a Jack-in-the-box, wanting to propose to you on the spot. It is all a bit havey-cavey, if you ask me, and that business of rushing off to see his father when all he had was a touch of gout — ridiculous. And as for forbidding you from dancing—! Was that your only reason for turning him down? He seemed to think it a trivial objection, but to my mind, I could not be comfortable giving my sister into the keeping of a man who is so implacably opposed to such a harmless exercise. Surely he would wish you to be happy and would therefore indulge you on a matter so clearly of importance to you?”
“So I thought, too,” Sophia said, pleased that he saw the case as she did. “May I tell you why he wanted to marry me? Would it be wrong of me to reveal what was said in a private interview?”
“As a rule, it would be so, but unless he swore you to secrecy, you may certainly tell Mama. As I stand in place of your father, you may tell me, also. But it should not become general gossip.”
“Well, then, his only reason to marry is to get his hands on living quarters before his brothers. Four rooms in a corner of Pentavon Castle, Richard, that was to be my home. I thought a pretty little house in Gloucester, but no, I was to have a bachelor apartment, with no servants or kitchen of my own, and the children taken off to the shared nursery. And not much money, either, I imagine. He may be a son of a marquess, as Mama constantly reminds me, but he is a third son, with not even a career of his own. He will be dependent on his father for every penny.”
“And your dowry,” Richard said tartly. “And when his father dies, it will be his brother he depends upon. He is the only one without a profession, did you know that? I made some enquiries, and the second and fourth brothers are both in the army, and the fifth is in the navy. Lord Daniel ought at least to enter the church, for that is where indolent unwanted younger sons tend to find themselves, but he told me very clearly that he had no plans in that direction. In truth, if he wants to live at his ease without a career, he ought to find himself a proper heiress, with more than your paltry ten thousand.”
“Is it paltry?” she said, suddenly amused.
“Invested, it would yield some five hundred a year, that is all. Not a great deal to a gentleman, and not enough to support a gentleman’s family in comfort.
But I suppose he was in a hurry. He met you, liked you, discovered you have a modest dowry and thought to steal a march on his brothers and snaffle the cosy apartment. That makes me dislike him even more.”
“You are not cross with me then? I thought you were desperate for me to marry and save you the hundred pounds a year for my board and clothes.”
He laughed, his dour face lighting up abruptly.
“You cost me a little more than that, sister, and when my income was so limited, I confess I would have been glad to see any of you well married and my purse a little heavier as a consequence. But the duke has more than enough money to house and feed and clothe you all, and seems delighted to do it, too. So do not feel under any obligation to marry on my account, sister dear.”
“Well, I must say, you have changed your tune lately, brother, and I much prefer this one.”
“I know — I was a bear, was I not? I was so worried about Rowena’s confinement that I was barely rational.
But now I can see more clearly, about a great many things that I made an unconscionable fuss about before.
This orangery designed by your Mr Payne, for instance.
An orangery! No, a bridge and a gallery, which would make a perfect ballroom, would it not? ”
She nodded eagerly. “The gallery at Marshfields was used for the ball, and I think that inspired Simon… Mr Payne’s design.”
Richard smiled at her, and said gently, “I think he is very much in love with you. All his drawings of the ball are of you, did you know that? It was as if no one else existed. His sketches of other people are lightly drawn, barely there, but when he draws you… there is affection in every line. Would you still like to marry him?”
“Oh yes, but I know it is impossible. He has no money at present. One day, perhaps, he will be a renowned architect and be able to afford to marry, but it could be many years.”
“Or it could be sooner than you think. Now that I am confident that Rowena is not about to be taken from me and can be rational again, I propose to tell the duke that your Mr Payne’s design is so much better than mine that I cannot improve upon it, and will withdraw from the competition.
He will make at least a thousand pounds in fees from it, and possibly more, and his reputation will be made.
In a year or two, perhaps, I shall have the pleasure of leading you to the altar and placing your hand in his. ”
Sophia could barely breathe. “Does he know this?”
“Payne? No. I should write to tell him, I suppose, since he looks likely to be gone for some time.”
“No! He is back, just arrived, but I suppose in all the fuss over Lord Daniel, no one thought to tell you. May I—?”
“Of course. Off you go and tell him the good news, sister.”
Thus released, Sophia jumped up and practically ran from the room.
***
Simon somehow found his way upstairs, following Juliet without thought. She led him to his old room, where a maid was hastily lighting the fire.
“Brandy?” Juliet said.
He shook his head. How could brandy help?
“I am chilled to the bone, and you must be too,” she said. “Shall I order baths for us?”
Again he shook his head.
“What can I get you?” she said, her voice so sympathetic that he could have wept.
“Nothing.”
Without a word, he turned and strode back out to the landing.
He had no specific destination in mind, but his feet must have known what his heart intended, for before long he found himself outside the curtained door to the little gallery above the chapel.
Inside, it was flooded with light, unexpectedly blinding him.
The midday sun, pouring through the chapel windows and undeterred by the carved screen, lit up the tiny gallery.
He sat down in his accustomed place on the bench and closed his eyes, but the light was so bright that it penetrated even through his lids.
Groaning, he buried his face in his hands.
At first, his despair was so great that nothing could dent it.
Gradually, however, he forced himself to think good thoughts.
His father was dead and could hinder his career no more.
That was something good, was it not? It was very good, for that dark, evil shadow no longer contaminated the world.
His mother was free of his malign control, and Andrew — timid, uncertain Andrew — would grow into his new estate.
And perhaps, one day, far in the future, he devoutly hoped, Simon would step into his brother’s shoes and become the Earl of Edlesborough.
It was a fate that had seemed so remote that he had never given it a moment’s thought before.
He did not care about the title, and the obligations of rank would be a heavy burden, but the wealth — oh yes, he would enjoy the fortune that came with everything else.
Bless Andrew for the allowance he had given him!
A thousand pounds a year was enough — more than enough — to support Juliet in comfort, to buy her new gowns and jewels and as many bonbons as she could eat, and still pay for coal and beef and candles, and a few bottles of good claret.
It was enough to marry on. And then he was plunged into despair again.