Chapter Twenty-Nine
When next Carter came to visit, Dorothea was also at home, so the three enjoyed a pleasant visit, chatting about non-consequential matters for the most part.
After Dorothea excused herself to go to her favorite dressmakers for a fitting for a new gown, Gilbert asked Carter to join him for a walk about the garden, as he had been cooped up indoors for nearly two weeks and was “longing for some fresh air.” They strolled among the rose bushes in companionable silence for a time, before Gilbert could refrain no longer and asked his friend about Diana.
“Carter, did you tell Miss Wells of my accident when you saw her last? Did you mention how much I desired visitors?”
Carter sighed. “In truth, I had no need to inform her of the incident, as all those of our acquaintance already knew of it—thanks to that wretch, Kirkpatrick. Do you know, I overheard him actually bragging about ‘besting’ you in a race, with not a single word of sympathy or compassion for your injury. He is the worst sort of man.”
“His bragging comes as no surprise to me, and, in fact, only confirms that he likely did it deliberately, despite his protestations. But, did you tell Miss Wells of my desire to see her?”
Carter hesitated a moment. “I did mention it when I saw her with Miss Landry in the refreshment room, but I fear I must dash your hopes of a visit from her. While she expressed great sympathy for your injury and asked me to wish you well, she made no indication that she and her aunt would come to call upon you.”
“I must be well enough to attend the upcoming ball, then. It is my only hope to get her alone and ask permission to court her.”
“Again, I am sad to be the bearer of painful news, but your suit of Miss Wells may be all but over.” Carter stopped and turned a sympathetic face to Gilbert. “For I must inform you that she accepted a second dance with Kirkpatrick at Lady Denton’s ball last week.”
Gilbert gasped. “A second set? But she has steadfastly refused to stand up with any gentleman more than once this entire Season. Her aunt told us quite specifically that she would not do so until she had… had…” His voice trailed off and he stood, staring off into the distance.
“Until she had formed a true attachment to any gentleman, yes, I do remember. Well, old friend, it would seem that she has done so, and the gentleman who has captured her heart is that blasted Kirkpatrick.”
“But… he said he had no desire for her. Indeed, he implied she was not even good enough for him! Oh, Carter—this is wretched news. All my hopes are vanished. She was my great love as well as my only chance to avoid the church. What am I to do?” Gilbert stumbled over to a stone bench and sat, heavily.
Carter joined him on the bench and gave a comforting pat on Gilbert’s leg. “Well, despite that second dance, there may be something that could keep you in the race for the affections of Miss Wells. That is, if the latest rumors are true.”
Gilbert lifted his head to look at Carter. “What rumors?”
“I heard from Mrs. Landry that Kirkpatrick may have set his sights on loftier goals than Miss Wells. At the Dentons’ ball, there was a new entry into the marriage mart—a Lady Marianne Lynton, the daughter of the Earl of Lynton.
She is not only exceedingly handsome but boasts a fortune of nearly twenty thousand pounds.
Kirkpatrick finagled an introduction and even managed a dance with the lovely creature and has already been seen calling on her home.
It would appear that snob of a gentleman wishes to woo the young lady and bring home to his family a lady of gentle breeding, wealth, and higher social standing than your Miss Wells. ”
Gilbert nodded, considering the information Carter had imparted. Then he grinned.
“But this is most excellent news, Carter. Clearly all is not lost yet,” he said.
“If Kirkpatrick is setting Diana aside for this Lady Lynton, it clears the path for me. What a relief. I feared I may have to lower my standards and select someone like Miss Landry. She is wealthy enough, to be sure, but I should much prefer a prettier wife.”
“For shame, Gilbert! Miss Landry is a gracious and intelligent young lady, who does not deserve your scorn simply because she is not as well-favored as some of the other young ladies. As a gentleman’s son, you should show more courtesy.”
Gilbert started a moment at the harsh tone in his friend’s voice. “Ah, well, I was only joking, Carter, I did not mean to offend you. I know you have been kind enough to dance with her at every ball this Season, and I am still happy to do so, as well, once I may dance again.”
“Do not bother, if it pains you to do so,” Carter said. He abruptly stood. “I must go. Will you attend next week’s ball with Lady Gillingham, or shall I come for you?”
“I believe Dorothea plans to attend, but I shall let you know. She may wish to persuade me to stay at home still, but I vow to be there. I must get back in the game. I will not dance, of course. Therefore, I shall simply stand around in a stupid manner, smiling and chatting with all the pretty ladies in between sets.”
Carter rolled his eyes and shook his head. “With a mind to one pretty lady in particular?”
Gilbert stood, laughing, and the two walked back to the house. “Indeed. And I shall charm her so much she shall forget she ever wished to dance a second with Kirkpatrick.”
Shortly after Carter left, Gilbert was relaxing in his room, perusing a book on mathematics he had found in the library.
It featured not only mathematical equations to solve but also several pages on geometry and some trigonometry.
Gilbert lost track of time working out the examples, and it wasn’t until a footman knocked on the door that he realized it was nearly half past three.
“This came for you, sir,” the footman said, holding out a silver salver upon which a slim letter was placed.
Gilbert took it, thanked the young man, and set aside his math book to read it, grateful to see it was not another message from Charlotte’s husband, Frederick, badgering him to return.
The handwriting upon the paper was in his father’s hand, which surprised Gilbert, as Evan had written once already to send well wishes following the riding accident.
Pleased to receive another letter so soon, Gilbert was optimistic it would be filled with nothing but local news and gossip.
After all, his father had fully endorsed his coming to town for the Season and had given him some money to enjoy himself, as well.
What else could it be about? He opened the packet and read.
Son,
I write to urge you to return home as soon as you are able to endure the journey.
I am hopeful your recovery has gone well and you suffer but little remaining discomfort from your fall.
If that is the case, I would ask you to cut short your planned pleasure visit in London and return to Clayton House at once.
There has been an incident involving your brother with a woman of shoddy reputation in Doddington which has brought an unhappy sheen of scandal to our family name.
I shall not go into details, and, be assured, I am handling it; however, the incident is being much talked of at present.
It would help take townspeople’s minds off of this unsavory bit of gossip if you were to return, pass your Bishop’s examination, and begin making sermons from the pulpit at Clayton House Parish. Such an example of piety and good manners would only help us put this sorry incident behind us all.
In addition, your sister will soon give birth. She told me only the other day how she longs to see you.
Write immediately as to your condition and I shall send our carriage for you, unless Dorothea remains in London and is willing to transport you in the Gillingham rig.
Yours, etc.,
Evan Kendall
Gilbert stared at the letter a long while.
Then he placed it in the fireplace and lit a match to it, watching it smoke, then catch fire, curl up, and quickly turn to ash.
It gave him a considerable amount of satisfaction to see it burn.
He knew he must respond as his father would not take it well if he ignored the summons.
He went to the desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. Being right-handed, the same side as his injury, Gilbert knew his handwriting would be quite poor, but that would only add weight to his message, which was as follows:
Dear Father,
Thank you kindly for your letter. I am shocked and grieved to hear word that Miles has brought even a shadow of scandal or shame to the family reputation.
I wish to join you all, but, as you can see from my poor handwriting, my shoulder is nowhere near ready to endure a long and jostling journey on the road from town to Doddington.
Indeed, I am feeling considerable pain in my attempt to write you now, and must keep this missive short.
Know that I hope to be fully recovered within a month at the most, and will hurry home to do what I can.
Your son,
Gilbert
Gilbert carefully folded the paper, sealed it with wax, and wrote the direction on it for Clayton House.
Then he rang for a footman, handed it to him to be posted, then returned to his mathematics book with a sigh of relief.
His pleading for more recovery time should give him plenty of days left to woo Miss Wells, secure her acceptance to his offer of marriage, and return to Clayton House with a wealthy, beautiful fiancée.