Chapter Nine
Gilbert considered going upstairs to his bed chamber to savor his letter in privacy without the risk of any interruption, but even from the downstairs hallway, he could hear his nephew loudly crying.
Longing for a quieter place, he walked outside to find seclusion and peace under the rose garden’s arbor.
It was a glorious, warm late April morning, and he sat quite happily on the stone bench under the archway of climbing white roses, which were perfuming the air.
He opened the letter and settled in to hear the news from his University friend.
My dear friend, Gilbert –
I warrant you are surprised to hear from me at long last, and I apologize for the delay in any communication.
I can only beg your pardon and say that my excuse is that your abrupt departure from Oxford came so close to the start of our final exams. The tests certainly took up all my spare time since we said our goodbyes and then I had to prepare to return home to London.
So, it is only now that I can put pen to paper and send you greetings.
I hope I am not over-stepping when I say, yet again, how much I wish you had not left school before finishing.
I am certain you would have done well, or, at least, well enough to achieve your honors certificate.
In addition, I pray that the family emergency that called you home so suddenly has resolved itself happily for all concerned.
Gilbert felt a brief pang of guilt over the lie he had told his friend about his reasons for leaving Oxford. He read on.
You will be happy (at least, I pray you are) to learn that I passed all my final exams with distinction.
Forgive my small boast, but when our marks were posted, I was top of our class, an accomplishment that drew the scorn of a former schoolmate of ours—that insufferable snob and future duke, Charles Kirkpatrick.
He was overheard to remark his wonder and amazement that a member of the (lowly) Commoner class could achieve greater marks than he, from the Noble Commoner status!
Well, I was tempted to inform him that, had he spent as much time studying as he did chasing pretty town girls and drinking, he might well have bested me, but on that topic, I concluded it would be best to remain silent.
My other fellow-students from my class certainly heaped their congratulations upon me, and I must be content with that.
I now come to the true purpose of my rambling missive, which is this: Might you be available to come visit in London and partake of some of the pleasures of the Season with me?
Not that either of us are in the market for a wife, but it may well be that we can enjoy ourselves with balls, assemblies, and dinner parties.
My father has just departed for another journey to Jamaica for business—indeed, I am grateful he delayed his departure until after my return from school—and I now reside here all on my own in our commodious home.
You visited it once before, during Christmas break, and I believe you found it to your liking.
My father was pleased when I shared my plan of inviting you to join me, so, I may assure you of his hearty approval.
You likely are already considering your next steps to allow you to finish your classes and take orders to become a curate, but I hope that you might delay your plans a short while and come to town?
I should enjoy the Season much more with you at my side.
After all, you are a gentleman’s son, while I come from genteel trade, so your company may well improve my acceptance in good society.
I jest, of course—it is your companionship I care for, not your influence, I assure you.
Please write as to your availability and when I might expect you. I am happy to meet you at the Post stop nearby.
If you truly are unable to join me, then, please write of all your news, for I am most anxious to learn that you and your family are well.
Yours, etc.,
Carter Milbourn
Gilbert could hardly believe his luck. This was precisely the escape he needed.
And despite what Carter wrote of their not being ready to wed, it suddenly occurred to Gilbert that finding a pretty heiress to accept him might be the solution to all of his problems. If he were to meet a young lady with a sizeable dowry, secure her affections, and have her agree to marry him, her finances might enable him to buy a small estate and live the life his brother was destined for—that of a landed gentleman.
Much more appealing than being a curate for a paltry forty pounds a year.
The thought that he was not a prime candidate for an heiress, being a second son with only an extremely modest inheritance from his mother, briefly skittered through his mind, but he quickly dismissed the idea.
He was a gentleman’s son and of a class that would make him most eligible, he was sure.
In addition, he knew himself to be handsome, charming, and witty.
Therefore, Gilbert had little doubt of his ability to persuade a young lady to fall in love with him.
He only need to choose wisely and be certain she came from a family of wealth.
He folded the letter and hurried inside Clayton House and upstairs to his room, where he took out a sheet of paper, a fresh pen, and wrote his acceptance.
He would not mail it until after speaking to his father, but he was all but certain he would be in London by the end of the week.
In the meantime, he changed into his riding clothes and went to the stables to take his favorite mare out for a long ride.
That afternoon, Gilbert knocked on the door of his father’s study, which was just off the entrance hall.
He knew his father would be in a better mood following the optimistic opinion on Dickie’s health from Dr. Baker.
The baby’s fever was all but gone, and it appeared he would live, although the physician could not say when, or if, the seizures would stop.
“Father,” Gilbert said when admitted to the dark, book-filled room where Evan spent a great deal of every day, “Might I have word?”
“Of course, son.” Evan, who was, as usual, seated at his large paper-covered desk, gestured to the chair opposite him. “What do you wish to discuss?”
Taking his seat, Gilbert glanced up at the portrait of his mother, hanging above the mantel. Although he had been only a small child when she died giving birth to his younger sister, Charlotte, Gilbert believed his memories coincided with the painting and depicted her beauty just as he recalled it.
He cleared his throat and spoke. “Father, as you know, I have spent the last many years working hard at my studies. Indeed, I do not believe you can dispute that my primary objective has always been to follow the path you have set for me.”
“I am aware of your hard work, son, and am very proud of you. Do not think I lack any sympathy for the harder route a second son always has in a family such as ours. You must make your own way in this world, although, of course, I have been, and always shall be, there to assist.” He smiled at Gilbert.
“Did you receive your testimonial letters from your professors professing you fit to be ordained? Are you now prepared to be examined by the bishop for your proficiency in Latin, scripture, and so forth?”
“My request does have something to do with all that, yes, but in truth, I am here to beg for a delay in taking orders.”
Evan’s dark eyebrows raised as he replied, “Oh?”
Gilbert rushed on, “Yes, you see, Father, I have spent so much time studying of late that I am in desperate need of some diversion and relaxation. I will soon be spending so much of my time working as Frederick’s curate, that I wish to enjoy myself a bit, first.”
“How do you propose to do that, exactly?” Evan’s tone was not harsh, but neither was it overly warm.
“I have just this day received a letter from a very good friend of mine at Oxford—Mr. Carter Milbourn—who lives in town. Recall I spent Christmastide with him last year? He writes that he is going to partake in the remainder of the Season and begs me to accompany him.”
“You surely are not expecting to marry at this point in your life, are you? Miles, Frederick, and I have discussed this at length, and we all feel it best that you take your orders, become acquainted with your new duties and, in time, gain a living of your own. It is at that point you should consider marriage, but most certainly not before. Once you are well settled, you might marry a suitable young lady, such as Miss Slade for example, and begin your family.”
“Nancy!” Gilbert exclaimed. “Why should I marry her—she is not a gentleman’s daughter.”
“True, but she is an only child, and her father’s many businesses mean she will one day be quite well off, which would help supplement your rector’s income.
And she is a sweet, cheerful sort of girl—well liked by all who know her.
Was she not your favorite childhood playmate?
Yes, I believe she would make a very good wife for you.
But, again—I do not wish to push you towards her, or any young woman.
I only will repeat that romance and marriage may come in a few years, but certainly not now. ”
Gilbert took a steadying breath before replying.
“Goodness, Father, on one hand you tell me it is too soon to wed and, on the other, you have all but found my bride! I assure you, I have no intention of making Nancy or any other young lady an offer. I only wish to have a few months of pleasurable society before settling down to my… future career.”
Evan frowned and brought his palms together up to his lips as he considered.
Gilbert sat, clenching his own hands tightly in his lap.
Finally, Evan nodded. “I suppose there can be no harm in enjoying yourself for a short time. Very well. I shall give you a small stipend to assist with expenses. It is good of your friend to invite you, but you must pay your own way as much as you are able.”
“Thank you, Father. Of course, in June, I shall be four and twenty and able to receive my inheritance from my mother.”
“Thirty pounds a year, yes.” Evan chuckled.
“Well, I do not believe the amount will go to your head and make you squander that yearly fortune foolishly. It is not a sum likely to attract a young lady on the hunt for a wealthy young gentleman, eh?” He lifted a corner of the blotter on his desk and removed a small key, then rose and went to a tall cabinet.
He unlocked a drawer, pulled it open, and, after rummaging around a bit, he pulled out some banknotes and relocked the drawer.
He handed the money to Gilbert. “Here are ten pounds. A touch extravagant, perhaps, but think of it as my gift to you for all your hard work in attaining your honors degree. I am proud of you, son.”
Gilbert swallowed his guilt as he took the bills. He vowed to repay the money as soon as he could.
“Thank you, Father. I so appreciate your approval to go to town.” Gilbert left the study and went upstairs to his room to retrieve the letter to Carter. He was already looking forward to the fine balls and parties he would enjoy. A sudden thought made him stop at the door to his room.
But how shall I get those invitations? I know virtually no one in town.
He sat at his desk, staring at the letter to Carter.
It was clear that Carter was counting on his assistance to gain acceptance to the ton.
How could he do that? He smiled as the answer came to him.
He took out a fresh sheet of paper and wrote to his sister, Lady Dorothea Gillingham, asking for her assistance.
High connections were always of considerable concern to her, and Gilbert was certain that she could have no objection to writing a note here and there to some of her friends to assist him in society.
Perhaps she might even come to town herself. That would guarantee invitations.
Both letters sealed and ready to post, Gilbert sat back, pleased with his plan. He felt certain of success.
When I write home with the news of a rich fiancée, Father will not mind in the least when he learns the truth of my lack of a degree. Yes, truly, a rich bride will be my salvation.