Chapter Twenty
In the week that followed the tea party, Dorothea had received—and graciously declined—three invitations from Mrs. Landry.
One had been for a luncheon, one for tea, and yet another for a carriage ride in Hyde Park.
Dorothea had managed to come up with sufficiently believable excuses for all of the propositions, the last one by saying she had caught a slight cold and would not wish to risk inflicting it upon anyone.
She was becoming quite irked with the woman’s single-minded determination to increase their acquaintance.
Worst of all, Dorothea was forced to stay at home for the latter part of the week, since she could not afford being seen out and about after claiming an illness.
When two more days passed and no card or letter arrived sealed with the now familiar L pressed into the red wax, Dorothea thought perhaps Mrs. Landry had, at last, taken the hint.
Dorothea was reading in her upstairs drawing room when Gilbert walked in.
“Good afternoon, sister, I hope you are well.” He took a seat opposite her. “I have heard that you a suffering from a cold?”
“Who told you that?”
“Carter and I had luncheon with the Landrys yesterday, and she told us you were forced to decline an invitation to go for a ride in the park with her because you had caught a cold. But you look very well, indeed.”
“Yes, well, it was a minor thing and is now quite gone, I assure you.” Dorothea leveled a gaze at her brother.
“You are not forming an attachment to this Miss Landry, are you? The very idea of that family joining with ours makes me feel quite unwell. They may now own an estate, but are hardly of our class, in my opinion.”
Gilbert laughed. “No need to worry. I find Miss Landry amusing company, I suppose, but she certainly is not handsome enough to tempt my affections.”
Dorothea let out a breath in relief. “Not to mention the fact that you are too young and are not in a financial position to wed at this point in your life. Papa did write that you are merely here to enjoy a last fling in town before settling down to your new position as curate at Clayton Parish, is that not right? You may marry in a few years, of course, once you obtain your own living.”
Gilbert said nothing, his eyes firmly fixed on his shoes. After a moment, Dorothea asked, “Why do you not speak? You do intend to enter the church, do you not?”
Gilbert sighed. “The truth is, sister, I would wish to do nearly anything but become a pastor. And why should I be too young? I might wed if I like. I may fall in love.”
“I suppose that is true, but how would you support your wife? Our mother’s legacy is not enough to survive on—at least, not in the style which I know you would prefer to live.”
“Dorothea, may I confide something to you?” At her nod, he continued, “I have already fallen in love with a beautiful, genteel young lady, and I hope to convince her to become my wife.” He paused a moment and added, “She is… also an heiress, as it happens, so our finances would no longer be a concern.”
“I begin to see your plan. Who is this young lady who has so completely captured your heart?”
“Miss Diana Wells.”
“Ah. I have not yet had the opportunity to meet Miss Wells, although I have heard very good things about her from some of my friends in town.”
“Well, that is one of the reasons I dropped by to see you today. I have learned that Miss Wells will attend the new summer exhibition of paintings at the Royal Academy tomorrow. I thought perhaps you and I could also attend, and happen upon her—entirely by chance, of course,” he added with a grin.
“Then I could introduce you to her. I am certain once she meets you and learns that Lady Gillingham is my relation, she will look at me more favorably.”
“This she does not do at present?”
Gilbert made a helpless gesture. “Oh, I cannot say. I mean, I believe she does take pleasure in my company, somewhat. We have danced and enjoyed a few conversations. But I am a second son, and because of that, she may not really consider me a potential suitor.”
“If she were to know of your high connections with the Gillingham family, however, that may change, you believe.”
“It cannot hurt. Do say you will come with me tomorrow, Dorothea. I already purchased tickets for us. Please? I shall be eternally in your debt.”
Dorothea sat a moment, considering. Then she smiled. “Very well, I always enjoy the summer exhibition, so I will go with you. What time shall I come to fetch you?”
“I have learned that she intends to be there at eleven in the morning. So, if we might arrive at half past ten?”
“That will be fine. Tell me, how did you learn of her intentions to see the exhibition?”
Gilbert gave a sheepish smile. “I shall tell you at the risk of your losing all respect for me. I bribed a housemaid in the Steele’s employ—Winifred Steele is Diana’s aunt.
I am looking for every opportunity to meet Diana accidentally, so we may become better acquainted.
Then, when I feel she is more inclined towards me, I shall ask her aunt for permission to court her. ”
Dorothea laughed. “Oh, dear. It is clear to me that you have quite lost your senses over this girl. Well, we shall see if I can be of any assistance to you in winning her heart.”
Gilbert jumped up, went to Dorothea, and kissed her cheek. “Thank you. With your assistance, I feel confident it will turn out quite well. See you tomorrow.” He kissed her again, then fairly skipped out of the room, while Dorothea shook her head with a bemused expression.