Chapter 8 #2
"Oh, the usual things. Participation in local charities, hosting occasional entertainments, supporting worthy causes. Your aunt was particularly devoted to the local school and the provision of medical care for the poor."
I made mental notes, wondering how on earth I was supposed to manage such responsibilities while also learning to run an estate.
"Lady Burtons," Georgiana interjected smoothly, "we're so eager to meet our neighbors. Are there particular families you'd recommend for our acquaintance?"
"Oh, certainly. The Ashforths are delightful, though as I mentioned, currently in Bath. The Aldridges have a charming daughter about your age, Miss Georgiana, and the Hollings are always pleasant company."
"And what of the younger gentlemen?" Victoria asked with the sort of casual innocence that fooled absolutely no one. "We're naturally concerned for our dear Eliza's social circle."
Lady Burtons's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Ah, yes. Well, there's young Mr. Burtons, of course—my nephew, recently returned from his military service. A fine young man, though perhaps still finding his feet in civilian society."
"Military service can be so formative," Georgiana murmured.
"Indeed. And then there's Mr. Aldridge—the second son, quite intelligent and well-read. He's considering a career in the law, I believe."
"How admirable," Victoria said politely.
“And of course, Timothy Hollings. He will return from his tour any moment.”
"But of course," Lady Burtons continued, her tone becoming slightly more animated, "the prize of our local society is Lord Avebury."
All three of us leaned forward slightly.
"Lord Avebury?"
"Oh my dear, surely you've heard of him? He inherited the title quite young—a terrible tragedy, his parents were lost in a carriage accident—but he's proven himself to be everything one could hope for in a landed gentleman."
"He sounds remarkable," I managed.
"Indeed he is. Handsome, intelligent, excellent with his tenants, active in local affairs. Every unmarried lady for miles has set her cap at him, and quite a few of the married ones speak of him with considerable warmth."
Victoria and Georgiana exchanged meaningful glances.
"Is he... receptive to such attention?" Georgiana asked delicately.
Lady Burtons laughed. "He's been the perfect gentleman in all his dealings, which naturally only increases his appeal. Though I suspect he's quite selective in his associations. A man in his position can afford to be particular."
"Naturally," Victoria murmured. "And is he much in society?"
"Oh yes, though he's not given to frivolous entertainments. He prefers meaningful conversation to empty social ritual—a quality that speaks well of his character."
"Does he attend local gatherings?" I found myself asking.
"When his schedule permits. He's quite devoted to his estate management, you know. Takes a very hands-on approach, which is refreshing in a man of his station."
Something about her phrasing made me pause. "Hands-on?"
"Oh yes, he's not one of those absentee landlords who leave everything to stewards. Lord Avebury knows every tenant by name, every field by its yield, every improvement that's needed. He's often seen about the countryside, working alongside his men when necessary."
I felt pleasant sort of awareness run down my spine.
"How... admirable."
"Indeed. And such knowledge makes him invaluable to his neighbors. Why, your dear aunt relied on his advice quite heavily in her later years. He was often at Wyndham Hall, consulting on various matters."
"Often?"
"Oh yes, particularly in the months before her passing. She had such confidence in his judgment, and he was always willing to assist when needed."
"Lady Burtons," Victoria said, "you speak of Lord Avebury with such warmth. I don't suppose he might be expected at any upcoming gatherings?"
"Well, there's to be an assembly in Wells next week. He typically attends, though of course one can never be certain. A man of his consequence has many demands on his time."
"Of course," I said faintly.
The conversation moved on to other topics—local charities, the upcoming harvest festival, various items of neighborhood gossip—but I found myself distracted, my mind returning again and again to Lady Burtons's description of Lord Avebury.
A hands-on estate manager who had often consulted with my aunt. A man who knew every tenant by name and wasn't above working alongside his men. Someone who preferred meaningful conversation to empty social ritual.
Was there a man of title, social standing, somewhat like Mr. Brooks. He would be someone to meet indeed.
Our subsequent calls followed a similar pattern.
At the Aldridge house, we were received by Mrs. Aldridge and her daughter Miss Emma, a pleasant girl of perhaps twenty who seemed genuinely delighted to have new neighbors.
The conversation was lively and warm, touching on books, music, and local customs.
And inevitably, Lord Avebury.
"Oh, you simply must meet him," Miss Emma fanned her face. "He's everything that's wonderful about the old traditions combined with the most modern sensibilities. Last month he funded a new school for the tenant children, and he's always supporting worthy causes."
"He sounds almost too good to be true," I said carefully.
"That's what I thought at first," Mrs. Aldridge added. "But he's proven himself again and again. Why, just last spring when the Weatherby family faced difficulties, he quietly arranged assistance without making a show of it. Such delicacy of feeling is rare in a young man."
"Young?" Georgiana inquired.
"Well, not precisely young—he must be thirty or thereabouts. But young for a peer, certainly. And quite unmarried, which naturally creates considerable interest among the local ladies."
"Naturally," Victoria murmured.
At the Weatherby house, the pattern continued.
Mrs. Weatherby, a cheerful woman with strong opinions about everything from garden design to foreign policy, regaled us with tales of Lord Avebury's various virtues while her two daughters—both obviously hopeful candidates for his eventual attention—listened with the sort of rapt attention usually reserved for poetry recitations.
"He has the most wonderful way of making one feel heard," sighed Miss Weatherby, the elder daughter.
"Last month at the harvest celebration, he spent nearly an hour discussing agricultural improvements with Papa, but then he turned to me and asked my opinion on the music selection with such genuine interest."
"Such condescension in a man of his rank," agreed her sister. "Most peers wouldn't spare a thought for local opinions."
"And he's so very handsome," Miss Weatherby added, then blushed prettily. "Not that one should place importance on such superficial qualities."
"Of course not," said Victoria, though her tone suggested she placed considerable importance on exactly such qualities.
By the time we returned to Wyndham Hall, I felt as though I'd been subjected to an intensive course in the life and character of Lord Avebury.
According to our various hostesses, he was handsome, intelligent, wealthy, kind, generous, modest, hardworking, and possessed of virtually every virtue known to civilized society.
"Well," Victoria announced as we settled in the drawing room for tea, "that was remarkably productive. You've been introduced to the finest families in the neighborhood, and everyone seems eager to continue the acquaintance."
"Indeed," Georgiana agreed. "And what delightful neighbors you have, Eliza. Particularly that Lord Avebury they all spoke of so warmly."
"Yes," I said. "He does sound like a paragon of virtue."
"Doesn't he? And clearly he's quite the prize of local society. Perhaps we'll have the opportunity to meet him soon."
"I imagine so, given how much he seems to involve himself in local affairs."
"Oh yes, I do hope we encounter him at one of the upcoming gatherings. The assembly in Wells sounds particularly promising."
I sipped my tea thoughtfully. It was remarkable how much enthusiasm one man could generate among the local families. Though I supposed that was often the case with unmarried peers—they tended to become the focus of considerable speculation and hope.
"Did you notice," Georgiana said, settling back in her chair, "how every lady we met had some personal anecdote about his kindness or consideration?"
"I did notice that. He seems to make quite an impression wherever he goes."
"A man in his position would naturally draw attention," Victoria observed. "Though it speaks well of his character that the attention appears to be universally favorable."
"Yes," I agreed. "It's rare to find someone spoken of so consistently well."
"Perhaps," Georgiana said with a sly smile, "he'll prove to be exactly the sort of neighbor who might make country life agreeable for you, dear sister."