Chapter 6 #3
“You are understandably worried. Swidhelm’s arrival is an enormous change after years of being unable to find him and not knowing if he was even alive.
I understand that, Wealtha, but he is adjusting to significant changes as well.
He thought himself a ducal by-blow, and instead, he’s a legitimate peer.
That is a ridiculous leap in life and based entirely on legal niceties.
“We only have one chance to make a first impression on him,” Mabel went on, “and for you to hound him about settlements would undo all the warmth and friendliness you embarked on at supper.”
“I was in quite good form, wasn’t I?” Wealtha adopted a pensive expression she doubtless practiced before her vanity mirror.
“He is agreeable too. I will give him that. Not hard to look on either, though he’s a bit on the tall side, and he’s neither blond nor all that witty.
I would not want a strikingly handsome brother, and he’s certainly not that. ”
Swidhelm could be witty and a trifle bold. What mattered strikingly handsome? “If you must know, I did mention that a young lady’s options improve when her settlements are generous. Swidhelm agreed to raise the matter with the solicitors.”
“Did you mean…? You could not have meant your options, because you are not young. You meant my options.” She unfolded her arms and broke out all over in smiles.
“Oh, Mabel, that was cleverly done. I should have known you’d go cautiously, given your misadventures in Mayfair, but I do thank you for the effort.
Perhaps you are right, and a subtle approach is best. Though not too subtle, if you please.
You will remind him of his promise, won’t you? You are riding out with him tomorrow.”
“Swidhelm did not make any promises, Wealtha. He plans to spend some time in York in the near future, and I’m sure a meeting with the solicitors will figure prominently on his agenda. He will discuss your settlements, among many other topics.”
“As long as he discusses them generously and soon. The next assembly approaches, and I would like the business concluded before then. My good fortune will be the envy of every lady in the shire.”
“You are already much envied, Wealtha. Now, if you don’t mind, I am tired, and I have for some reason agreed to get up at dawn tomorrow.
You will be pleased to know that his lordship has acquired a pair of riding horses, one of them suited to carrying a lady aside.
The mare’s name is Frigg, and she’s a very pretty bay. ”
Wealtha’s smile became a grin. “He already bought me a horse? That is a very promising development.”
Ye presuming ponies. “He is buying the mare for the estate, probably as an afterthought to procuring a mount for himself. Both horses are here on a two-week trial. I will test Frigg’s paces tomorrow.
I’m sure she’ll be available for both of us.
” A bit petty, to insist like that, but Wealtha was smiling again, which suggested she’d tolerate a small dose of reality without flying into the boughs.
“Nonsense, Mabel. Dear Richard bought the mare for me, and he’s too polite to come right out and say that.
You may certainly ride her tomorrow, and I wish you the joy of the outing.
Please do let Richard know that I have a very nice seat, according to the riding master at Miss Gundridge’s.
A rural upbringing must be good for something, must it not? ”
“A rural upbringing is in many ways ideal.” Boring at times, but full of meaningful work and vastly preferable to what Mabel had glimpsed of Town life.
“You are such a spinster,” Wealtha said. “I mean that in the kindest way, of course. A good, dear spinster. You will remind Richard about my settlements between showing him the home farm and a thorough discourse on reddling the ewes. I know you will.”
She snatched Mabel in a quick cheek-to-cheek hug and swanned out the door.
“Unlike you, Wealtha,” Mabel said to the empty room, “I do not prepare thorough discourses on bucolic topics and rehearse them in my dressing closet.”
A sad image, particularly when Wealtha had had so few opportunities to air her speeches.
Mabel changed out of her Sunday-best dress, worn in honor of Swidhelm’s arrival, and took down her hair.
She was no sort of beauty, but the face reflected in the mirror wasn’t hideous either.
Wealtha would not like having a hideous cousin any more than she’d appreciate a cousin possessed of greater beauty than her own.
Swidhelm was shrewd enough to handle Wealtha, at least the Wealtha he’d met in his role as brother. A relief, that.
As Mabel plaited her hair, she regretted mentioning Wealtha’s settlements to him. He’d taken the disclosure in stride—Swidhelm apparently excelled at taking life in stride—and would doubtless add generously to the sum already allotted.
Which would solve nothing. By local standards, even by York standards, Wealtha was well dowered. She was pretty, healthy, from a good enough family, albeit one with a few regrettable skeletons in its closets.
She was envied by some, but Mabel well knew that, by most good folk, Wealtha was pitied. She was sincerely pitied, and if she knew or even suspected that to be the case, she’d go completely ’round the bend.