Chapter Thirty-One
As soon as the morning sun had risen high enough to dry the morning dew, Gilbert and Dorothea were in the Gillingham open barouche, on their way to see Miss Wells.
Gilbert had confided his growing confidence in the lady’s mutual affection towards him and her willingness to have him call.
An approving Dorothea had decided it was, perhaps, time for her to become better acquainted with the object of her brother’s desire.
“Let us invite her for a ride in Hyde Park,” she had suggested the morning after the last ball.
“I shall act as chaperone for you, and leave Mrs. Steele behind to disappoint any other callers this morning. If Miss Wells is as attached to you as you believe, she will not object to going out with us and being seen in public tomorrow. Indeed, it may very well help signal to all that you are her chosen gentleman.”
Dorothea felt justified in her estimation when they arrived and Miss Wells appeared all enthusiasm for an outing.
Mrs. Steele voiced no opposition to allowing Lady Gillingham to chaperone, only adding, “Do take your parasol, Diana. For it is too lovely to put up the hood on the barouche, but we would hate to see you become overheated in the sun. You are so fair, after all.” Clearly, this was a sign Mrs. Steele was all in favor of showing off the growing affection between her niece and Gilbert.
As they turned into Hyde Park, all three were in a merry mood. Dorothea directed the coachman to go along the most prominent path, for she knew there would be many members of the ton present, even if it was not the “fashionable” hour of late afternoon when most people strolled the park.
“Still,” she had told Gilbert earlier, “we can only call upon Miss Wells in the morning hours at this point so, until you have secured her affections and made her your fiancée, we must ride at this intolerable hour, if Miss Wells is agreeable to it. There will still be many who will see us. And gossip, as you know, is the currency of the Season.”
Conversation was light, with Dorothea attempting to leave most of the speaking to her brother and Miss Wells.
When she did interject, it was to form a compliment of some sort about Gilbert’s good nature and his prospects as a future partner.
She was happy to see some friends of hers walking along the paths, taking the air.
She called out greetings to several of them, well satisfied to see the looks of surprise on some of their faces as they recognized Miss Wells in her barouche.
Among the riders they passed was Mr. Kirkpatrick. Dorothea noted Gilbert smile triumphantly at the future duke when they saw him, and she struggled to hide her own glee at Kirkpatrick’s barely disguised scowl upon seeing Gilbert and Miss Wells side by side.
After a while, Dorothea suggested the two young people might enjoy a bit of a stroll down to the pond and, when they agreed, she ordered the coachman to pull over so they could all exit the barouche.
She followed Gilbert and Miss Wells slowly, allowing a considerable distance to grow between her and them, so they might have privacy.
Seeing the smiles Miss Wells was directing at Gilbert, she felt more and more confident in the young lady’s interest in her brother, and it pleased her to no end to know that Gilbert would soon be engaged to an heiress and have a much better life than he would by entering the church.
“Lady Gillingham—what a surprise!”
Dorothea groaned inwardly at the familiar voice, then turned to see Mrs. Landry striding towards her, dressed in a bright-green dress with matching pelisse and bonnet.
The ensemble was of a color Dorothea would never have chosen for herself, but somehow Mrs. Landry made it work.
Dorothea forced a smile and politely greeted her.
“Good morning, Mrs. Landry. Are you taking the air all alone?”
“Gracious, no, Lady Gillingham. I am acting as chaperone to my daughter, Mary, who is with—” she broke off and gestured off towards a thicket of trees, “who is enjoying a stroll with a young man who seems to admire her most ardently.”
Will wonders never cease, thought Dorothea, before replying, “How lovely. Perhaps there will be an engagement soon? You must be confident in his intentions to let them wander off all alone.”
Mrs. Landry laughed heartily, her bosom heaving. “I do, in fact, believe that his intentions are honorable. He is a very good sort of man, and will make my daughter prodigiously happy.”
Dorothea noted Mrs. Landry said “man,” not “gentleman.” The suitor in question must not be of the gentry class.
Not that she truly cared, but just to make conversation, Dorothea asked, “You are certain he is not a fortune hunter? With your family’s recent inheritance of a valuable estate, she may fall prey to honeyed words that disguise a less-than-noble intent.
I do hope you are taking every precaution. ”
Mrs. Landry studied Dorothea a moment. “I see what you are thinking. My daughter is so lacking in beauty that only the likes of a fortune hunter would ever make her an offer.”
Dorothea felt herself color. “Not at all,” she stammered. “I only intended to speak of a very common issue ladies with wealth must face. Your daughter is, perhaps not the most lovely of creatures this Season, but she has other charms, I’m sure.”
“In point of fact, she does have many charms. Mary is highly intelligent with a quick wit. She is loving and compassionate and has a kind heart. I am no fool, Lady Gillingham. I know my daughter is not very handsome and could never attract an offer from the likes of, say, a Lord Kirkpatrick. We only wish her to be happy.”
“Of course, you do.” Eager to change the subject, she added, “Speaking of that gentleman, I understand Lord Kirkpatrick is soon to be wed to Lady Lynton.”
“You have not heard the latest gossip, then. There will be no match there, for Lady Lynton has refused Mr. Kirkpatrick.”
“Truly?” Dorothea asked. “I am all astonishment. Whyever did she reject him?”
“I have no idea. The rumors swirling around the rejection did not include the particulars. But even if he is now available, we can have no expectations from him.” She laughed loudly. “His sights are clearly set on a higher match. Mary’s current suitor, however, is most suitable.”
“Has he money, though? Again, I only bring it up because—”
“Believe me, Lady Gillingham, when I say that her father and I would rather see her be put forever on the shelf than allow her to wed a fortune hunter. We have come to know this young man quite well, and we feel confident that he cares for her most sincerely.” Her tilted chin and stern eyes seemed to challenge Dorothea, who could only nod and smile.
“Well, then. That is most excellent, Mrs. Landry. I eagerly await news of their engagement and shall wish them every happiness.”
“Thank you. Tell me, Your Ladyship, what brings you to Hyde Park so early? Was that your barouche I saw parked by the path? Are you simply taking some air?”
Dorothea gave a small laugh. “I confess, I am here for the same reason as yourself. I am chaperoning my brother with Miss Wells. They wandered off a bit, but I will meet up with them soon.”
“Miss Wells, is it? I might ask you the same question you did of me. You believe her to be sincerely fond of your brother?”
Dorothea gave a little start at the woman’s presumption.
“It appears she is. Her aunt has given Gilbert permission to court her, and Miss Wells was quite eager to ride with us to the park this morning. If she did not care for him, she certainly would not wish to be here in public to be seen by one and all.”
Mrs. Landry nodded, but her eyes looked doubtful to Dorothea as she said, “One and all? Perhaps it is more that she wishes to be seen by one in particular.”
“I do not have the pleasure of understanding you, Mrs. Landry.”
Mrs. Landry sighed in a fretful manner. “I do so dislike to spread gossip, Lady Gillingham. However, you may recall, I did drop a hint or two about that particular girl’s…
character. She appears all sweetness and charm, but I have it on good authority that her actions—especially as concerns your dear brother—are not perhaps what they may seem. ”
Dorothea felt a surge of irritation and took a moment to compose herself.
“I do recollect your mentioning something of that, but you have not been so kind as to inform me of your source. You may be simply repeating fabricated gossip from some jealous person. Who told you she is not to be believed?” She tapped her foot and clutched her parasol tightly.
Mrs. Landry made a helpless gesture with her hands.
“It is not for me to say, sadly. I must not betray a trust. I only mention it because I am fond of your brother and do not wish him to be hurt. I would only urge you to advise him to guard his heart and to take great caution when it comes to his regard for the lovely Miss Wells. She is… not what he may believe.”
Dorothea stiffened. “I thank you for your considerate advice. Now, if you will excuse me, I must find them. I wouldn’t wish for either to be accused of impropriety, after all.
Good day, Mrs. Landry.” She gave the slightest of nods before taking her leave and moving swiftly down the gravel path to find Gilbert.
Insufferable busy-body! It is painfully obvious that she does not wish to see Gilbert wed an heiress.
She is, no doubt, trying to punish him for not falling in love with her own daughter, leaving her to wed someone of the lower class.
Well, let Miss Mary Landry accept this commoner suitor. It is nothing to me.
I am certain Gilbert’s offer will be accepted by Miss Wells within the week, and then we shall see who has made the better match!