A Marriageable Miss (9 page)

‘Added to which,’ he then observed, ‘it would seem that having your name attached to Miss Wheatley’s for the next month or so will do your cause no harm at all.’

Since the bulk of his attention was still focused on Helena, Richard merely grunted in reply. However, suddenly mindful of the promise he had given his grandmother, he excused himself and, making his way purposefully through the throng presently gathered about Helena, he placed a proprietorial hand on her elbow and declared, in as light-hearted a tone as he could muster, ‘Come now, Sir Arthur, you have monopolised Miss Wheatley for quite long enough now. Time for one of us younger fellows to be given a look-in, wouldn’t you say?’

If the general was at all offended, he certainly chose not to show it. Surrendering his far from unwilling captive, he raised her fingers to his lips once more, saying, ‘Much obliged to you, ma’am. Might have known that it wouldn’t be long before one of these young whippersnappers came along and stole you from me!’ Then, flicking a mischievous grin in Richard’s direction, he cautioned him, ‘See that you take proper care of this little jewel, young-feller-me-lad, or you could have me to answer to!’

‘Pistols at dawn, I’ve no doubt!’ responded the earl, with the briefest of smiles then, taking Helena’s arm, he steered her to the side of the room, murmuring, ‘I really must apologise for not coming to your rescue more promptly.’

‘My rescue?’ Helena stared up at him in astonishment. ‘I am afraid I fail to follow your lordship.’

‘Well, I dare say you were beginning to feel as if you had been thrown to the wolves!’

‘Thrown to the wolves! How do you mean?’

He gestured impatiently. ‘Sir Arthur—it seemed to me that you might be finding it difficult to excuse yourself, so I judged that you would be glad of a reprieve.’

Helena shook her head reproachfully. ‘Then your judgement is clearly at fault, my lord,’ she replied. ‘I felt no need to “excuse” myself, as you put it. As far as I was concerned, Sir Arthur was all that he should have been and—unless I have mistaken the matter—being on his arm did seem to be giving me a great deal of added consequence which, I was given to understand, was the object of this evening’s assembly.’

‘Not entirely,’ retaliated Richard, slightly taken aback that what he had deemed to be a gesture of chivalry was being construed as some sort of interference. ‘The agreement was meant to be mutually beneficial, surely? Whilst launching you into society was, certainly, part of the bargain, this evening’s major objective—from my grandmother’s point of view, at least—was intended to help furnish rumours of a possible—future announcement—between the two of us. I fail to see in what way your spending the entire evening in the company of any mountebank who cares to attach himself to you—!’

At Helena’s sharp intake of breath, he broke off abruptly. ‘I beg your pardon,’ he said stiffly. ‘That was indefensible—and not at all what I intended.’

A small frown appeared on Helena’s brow. ‘Then I should like to know precisely what it was that you did intend, my lord!’

Unfortunately, whatever sentiment it was that Richard had meant to convey was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Lottie Daniels who, her face pink with excitement, was tugging urgently at her cousin’s arm and craving her instant attention.

‘Oh, Nell!’ she burst out. ‘Look who I have come upon—you will scarce believe it!’

Mystified, Helena turned to see what, amongst this huge company of strangers, could possibly be causing Lottie such delight. However, as soon as her eyes came into contact with the laughing gaze of the stockily built, sandy-haired young man who stood beside her cousin, Helena was equally overjoyed to behold the familiar face and, holding out both hands in glad welcome, she cried, ‘Doctor Redfern! Quite the last person I should have expected to see in this gathering!’

Grinning widely, the young man reached out, grasped her hands in his own and exclaimed, ‘As I yourself, dear lady! We had scarcely entered the room when I caught sight of Miss Daniels, who insisted upon bringing us to you directly!’

Markfield had no difficulty in recognising the newcomer as one of his late cousin Simon’s ex-university friends. The Redfern family had, at one time, owned quite a sizeable property not far from the Standish estate and, as his grandmother had recently informed him, it would appear that Thomas Redfern was fast becoming acknowledged as one of the capital’s more sought-after physicians.

‘Good to see you again, Redfern,’ he said, thrusting out his hand. ‘You are well, I trust?’

The physician returned the earl’s salute, saying, ‘Dreadfully sorry to hear about Simon, old chap—we seemed to lose touch after my unit was sent out to Portugal.’ Then, his face brightening, he added, ‘But what an amazing turn of events! To think that my Miss Wheatley should turn out to be the daughter of her ladyship’s godchild!’

‘You have known the family for some time then, I take it?’ enquired Richard, who was finding himself unaccountably irritated at the other man’s somewhat possessive terminology.

‘Indeed I have,’ affirmed Redfern and, having observed that Helena and Lottie were now in animated conversation with his sister, Jenny, who had accompanied him, he took hold of the earl’s arm and edged them both out of earshot.

‘I was with the medical unit that brought Miss Wheatley’s brother back to England,’ he confided. ‘In point of fact, I owe the family a great deal.’

‘How so?’ asked Richard, his curiosity roused.

‘It is Giles Wheatley that I have to thank for my present success,’ replied the physician quietly. ‘At the time of his son’s illness, I was merely a junior surgeon in the Army Medical Corps, but when my father died, leaving both my mother and sister dependent on me, circumstances obliged me to resign my commission and take up an appointment at St George’s Hospital.
When young Wheatley was moved back home to allow him end his days with his family, his dear mother was most insistent that I should continue with my treatment of her son. Subsequently, not only did Mr Wheatley seek out a suitable property in which to set me up in my own practice, but he also advanced me the necessary wherewithal to help get it off the ground. Needless to say, both Jenny and I count ourselves fortunate to number the Wheatleys among our dearest friends.’

Pausing, he shot a frowning glance in Helena’s direction, adding, ‘Although, I have to say that to meet up with Miss Wheatley at such a prestigious gathering comes as something of a surprise to me, especially since it was only a few days ago that I was called to attend her father. I find it rather odd that neither she nor Miss Daniels thought to mention their relationship with your family to either Jenny or myself.’

Although the earl was not at all surprised to learn that Helena had refrained from broadcasting her recent involvement with his family, since it was clear that she was hoping that any association with him would prove to be as short lived as her previous ill-fated ventures, Redfern’s rather proprietorial attitude in regard to her activities irritated him somewhat.

Although it was a great temptation to him to ask the doctor why he should consider it his right to be informed of his patient’s daughter’s movements, in the event Richard merely nodded and uttered an inconsequential reply. He then moved to pay his respects to Redfern’s sister, with whom he had also been acquainted in his youth.

Jenny Redfern, who was several years her brother’s junior, was a vibrant young woman, with thick dark hair and expressive brown eyes. Not a beauty, by the usual standards, but with her quick mind and infectious sense of humour, she was highly popular within her own circle of friends. Her association with the Wheatley family had begun at, more or less, the same time as her brother’s, starting with the odd supper invitation and gradually developing into more frequent contact between the two families. That Redfern would take over as the Wheatley family’s
physician had been a foregone conclusion and, although Mrs Wheatley’s illness and subsequent death had brought about the diminishment of the family’s social activities, both of the Redferns had continued to be regular and welcome visitors to the house in Cadogan Place ever since. Her own father’s death having brought about a distinct lessening of the Redfern family’s circumstances, Jenny was very well acquainted with hardship and, no sooner had her brother begun to make his mark, she had determined to do what she could to help other unfortunates who, through no fault of their own, had found their ways of life similarly shattered. Hence her involvement in the Wesleyan Chapel soup-kitchen project.

Dipping Richard a curtsy, she extended her hand with a smile. ‘I dare say you will scarce remember me, your lordship. I was still in the schoolroom when you and your cousins used to visit us at Bagworth.’

‘Nonsense!’ retorted Richard, with a quick grin. ‘I remember you perfectly well—hair forever escaping from its pins and always into some scrape or other!’

‘No change there, then,’ laughed Redfern.

Wrinkling her nose at him, Jenny pointed out that he was a fine one to talk since, even though they had arrived some twenty minutes earlier, they had still not yet made their presence known to their hostess.

‘Good heavens, you are right!’ exclaimed Redfern, hurriedly taking hold of his sister’s arm and turning to go. ‘We must away and rectify that error at once!’ But then, just as he was about to lead his sister off to find the countess, he paused and, flashing a quick grin at Helena, he said, ‘Perhaps, with your permission, we may return and join you for supper?’

The sight of Helena’s delighted smile and eager nod of agreement brought a pensive frown to the earl’s brow. All at once, it occurred to him that Miss Wheatley’s long-term acquaintance with the family’s physician might well have developed into a far more meaningful relationship. No sooner had this uncomfortable thought entered his head when, hard on its heels, came the equally
disquieting notion that, perhaps, the real truth behind Helena’s reluctance to comply with her father’s wishes was that she had already given her heart to another!

Unfortunately, the sudden arrival of his friends, all demanding that he present them to Helena and her cousin without further ado, afforded him no further opportunity to dwell on these somewhat unsettling conjectures.

E
ven though it had seemed that, had it not been for Lottie’s untimely interruption, Markfield might well have been about to apologise for his inexplicable outburst, his earlier criticism of her conduct had badly dented Helena’s self-assurance. Having had more than enough time to ponder over his words, however, she could not help but feel morally bound to concede that—despite the fact that his insufferably high-handed attitude had been totally unwarranted—it was more than possible that there was some grain of truth in his accusations. It came to her as something of a shock to realise that she had allowed the unanticipated novelty of finding herself the recipient of so much praise and admiration in one evening to affect her judgement, an unpardonable state of affairs for which she was now beginning to feel deeply ashamed.

The unexpected arrival of the two Redferns, coupled with the subsequent interchanges within the group, had, unfortunately, made any further discourse between herself and the earl well nigh impossible. And indeed, having observed his rather enigmatic expression during her animated conversations with the doctor and his sister, it had not been long before she had begun to wonder whether she might have made the most terrible mistake in allowing herself to become this deeply involved with the Standish family. Not only had her peaceful, settled existence been
turned upside-down, but she had, in addition, been almost on the brink of committing the most grievous error of actually starting to admire the man—whose motives, she had to keep reminding herself, were no purer than those of her previous suitors!

Nevertheless, no sooner had the earl’s friends joined the group, than the pall of gloominess that had been threatening to envelop her swiftly evaporated, for she very quickly discovered that it was impossible to take exception to these highly amiable young men. Thus it was that, in no time at all, Fairfax, who was well known amongst his peers for his light-hearted, throw-away brand of humour, had both Helena and her cousin chuckling away at his rather comical observations regarding one or two of the more starchy-looking individuals present.

Richard, watching, was unable to avoid a sharp pang of envy at the apparent ease with which everyone but himself, it would seem, could bring such a glowing smile to Helena’s face. And, as he recalled the inexcusable allegations he had flung at her earlier in the evening, a shudder of revulsion ran down his spine. What the devil could have got into him to challenge her in such a way was past understanding.

Hearing the pensive sigh that had emanated from his cousin’s lips, Standish, who was standing close by and, mistakenly believing that he was aware of its cause, murmured, ‘Cheer up, old chap! Everything looks to be going swimmingly. Haven’t heard a word said against the girl all evening. Rumours of your possible attachment to her are already beginning to circulate. You just sit it out for a few weeks and—who knows—with a good harvest, you may yet come about!’

His cousin’s oblique reference to the earl’s ongoing difficulties regarding his growing debts swiftly returned Richard’s thoughts to the problems that had kept his mind so fully occupied earlier.

‘God willing!’ he returned gruffly and would have said more, had not the sight of his grandmother, making her way purposefully towards the group, jolted his mind back to his current predicament.

‘Ah, here you are, Richard!’ beamed the dowager, as soon as she had reached his side. Then, lifting her hand, she beckoned
Helena over to join them. ‘It would appear that we have achieved something of a success this evening, my dear,’ she told her, a self-satisfied smile on her face. ‘Naturally, we must make every effort to build upon that. Lord Ledburn has been kind enough to offer us the use of his box at Covent Garden for tomorrow evening’s performance and, since I have been given to understand that Prinny himself will be in attendance, it is infinitely possible that if I can but manage to attract his attention, he may do us the honour of inviting us to join him!’

‘The Prince Regent!’ Her eyes now wide with apprehension, Helena stared at the countess in dismay. ‘You cannot possibly mean to introduce me to his Royal Highness!’

Her ladyship raised one imperious eyebrow. ‘But, of course,’ she replied calmly. ‘To be seen just once in the Royal box will give you far more countenance than you could hope to gain from even a dozen routs and assemblies.’

‘I had not thought to find myself mixing with the Royal set,’ faltered Helena, shooting Richard a beseeching look. ‘I am not sure that I would know how to proceed.’

‘Nonsense, child! You will do absolutely splendidly!’ retorted Lady Isobel as, with a purposeful flick of her fan, she summoned one of her ageing gallants to come and escort her to the supper room, recommending that Markfield make a push to hurry his party into doing likewise, ‘Lest the best of all those highly priced refreshments disappear before any of you have the opportunity to sample them!’

Her heart sinking as she watched the elderly countess wend her stately way across the room, Helena could not help feeling that events were moving far too quickly for her liking. This latest development was far beyond that which she had originally set out to achieve in her efforts to save her father from further disappointment.

‘Try not to look so worried, Miss Wheatley,’ came Richard’s resonant voice at her elbow. As far as he was concerned, Helena had proved herself more than capable of holding her own in any circle but, having registered her obvious consternation, it appeared that some sort of reassurance on that point would not go amiss.
‘After seeing the remarkable way in which you stood up to her ladyship the other day, I cannot help but feel that his Royal Highness will be as putty in your hands!’

Even though Helena was quick to dismiss such an unlikely scenario, Markfield’s intended words of encouragement brought a swift smile to her lips. ‘A most redoubtable lady, your grandmother,’ she ventured, turning to face him.

‘She certainly takes great pains to give that impression,’ replied Richard, with an answering smile. ‘But, I have to admit that I have always been of the opinion that she is nowhere near as hidebound as she would have everyone believe.’

‘In my limited experience,’ returned Helena, looking up at him with a challenging gleam in her eyes, ‘very few people are!’

Richard started and then, as a slight flush rose in his cheeks, he said stiffly, ‘You must allow me to beg your pardon for that wretched display of bad manners earlier!’

Helena shook her head. ‘There is really no need, your lordship,’ she assured him earnestly. ‘On reflection, I am ashamed to admit that I was so taken up with the unexpected adulation that I was beginning to lose sight of the purpose of it all.’

‘I find it hard to imagine that such adulation comes as any sort of novelty to you,’ countered Richard, with a teasing grin.

Their eyes met and, for one breathless moment, time seemed to hang on a thread until, suddenly conscious of his surroundings, Richard forced himself to tear his gaze away from hers and, swallowing hard, managed to compose himself sufficiently to suggest that perhaps they had better follow the rest of their group into the refreshment room.

Helena was at a loss to understand what had happened in that moment. An extraordinary tingling sensation had run through her entire body, leaving her trembling with shock and it was some moments before she was capable of uttering any sort of sensible response.

Struggling to conjure up something to say that might lighten the charged atmosphere that seemed to have developed between them, she was struck with a sudden inspiration and, turning
towards him, she said, ‘I have not yet had the opportunity to thank you for the flowers that you so very kindly sent me. They are truly beautiful and quite my most favourite varieties.’

Gratified to learn that his supposition had not proved him wrong, Richard’s eyes lit up. ‘It was my pleasure, entirely, Miss Wheatley.’ He smiled. ‘I had a feeling that I recognised the perfume you were wearing and had them sent up from the estate—the woods and fields are full of primroses and violets at this time of year.’

To his surprise, Helena heaved a great sigh and said wistfully, ‘How I envy you!’

Richard’s brow puckered. ‘Envy me, Miss Wheatley? How so?’

‘Why, for being able to take off for the countryside whenever the fancy takes you, of course.’

He was about to protest that, if she seriously believed that this was how large estates were run, then her education must be sadly lacking but then, curious as to her reason for having made such a remark, he said, ‘That rather sounds as if you yourself hankered to do likewise.’

‘Oh, but I do!’ she replied instantly. ‘Ever since I was a child, I have pestered my father to purchase us our own country property. Sadly, he has always maintained that our twice-yearly visits to my Uncle Daniels’s village should be more than enough for anyone.’

Captivated by the fervent look on her face, his eyes crinkled and he laughed. ‘But not for you, I take it?’

‘Absolutely not!’ she exclaimed. ‘Hiring a cottage for a month in the summertime and two weeks at Christmas is hardly
living
in the country. My dearest wish is that my father will sell up his practice and move out of town to some peaceful retreat where he could just relax and take things easy for once in his life.’

Still smiling, he felt constrained to point out that even small estates did not run themselves.

‘No, I must suppose not,’ she rejoined. ‘And I imagine that running a large estate such as yours must be an even greater responsibility?’

His smile faded and, as his most recent quandary again invaded
his thoughts, a pensive look came into his eyes. ‘An unlooked-for responsibility, as far as I am concerned,’ he replied, ‘and one that I would happily have given my right arm not to have acquired.’

After silently digesting this somewhat unpleasant image for a moment or two, Helena asked, hesitantly, ‘Were you very close to the cousin who died, your lordship?’

A faraway look came into Richard’s eyes as he sought to answer. During their boyhood, the Standish cousins, Simon, Charles and he himself, had spent a great deal of time together on their grandfather’s estate. From climbing the trees in the parkland to fishing for trout in the winding river that ran through the property, they had all learned to know and love every inch of the place. It had been very hard for him to come to terms with Simon’s death, especially in view of what he had lately learned from his grandmother about his elder cousin’s dissolute lifestyle.

‘Simon and I were inseparable as youngsters,’ he said slowly. ‘But then, gradually, as various events overtook the pair of us—my father’s death and my own military service—we seemed to see less and less of one another. Nevertheless, his death came as a great shock to me and I have to admit that not a day has gone by when I have not wished it otherwise.’

‘Had you not been obliged to return to England, would it have been your intention to stay in the army?’

He shook his head. ‘I could have stayed on, I suppose, but, as it happens, I had always rather fancied setting myself up as a racehorse-breeder—out of the question now, of course.’

At once, Helena’s eager expression returned. ‘A stud farm! What a marvellous idea! I once paid a visit to one when we were staying at my uncle’s house near Lambourne. Horses are such beautiful creatures, are they not? Imagine having one’s own string.’

‘You like to ride, then, I take it?’ he asked, concluding that the Wheatleys probably had their own stables and wondered if it would be worth sending down to Markfield for one of his thoroughbreds, in order that he might invite her to ride with him.

‘Whenever I get the chance!’ she replied fervently. ‘Only hired hacks these days, I am sorry to say. Sadly, however, since my
cousin is still something of a novice, we seldom venture further than Green Park.’

‘Not to the Row, then?’

She gave a regretful shake of her head. ‘Jason sometimes used to allow me to accompany him there when I was younger—we had our own mounts in those days, of course—but after he died, there was seldom any opportunity.’ She paused, then, on a sudden impulse, laid her hand gently on Richard’s sleeve and murmured, ‘I do understand what it is to lose someone close, believe me, your lordship.’

At her touch, a quiver of shock ran through him and, for an instant, Richard found it impossible to reply. Horribly conscious that her impetuous and somewhat forward gesture had affronted him, a warm flush began to spread across Helena’s cheeks, but, the instant she started to remove her hand from his arm, his own came up, capturing her fingers in his warm, firm clasp.

‘I know that you do, my dear,’ he said gruffly. ‘And, if you were as fond of your brother as I was of Simon you, possibly better than most, will also understand why I must do whatever is necessary in order to put Markfield Hall back on its feet. The house has been in the family for generations—it is the place where we played together—grew up together. Every single memory I have of Simon is centred there. The idea of allowing it to fall into disrepair is unthinkable!’

Trembling, Helena stared up at him, her eyes wide with concern. ‘Then you must sign my father’s contract,’ she heard herself imploring him. ‘I know that he would be more than happy to advance you—’

Almost as if she had struck him, Richard let go of her hand and stepped back. His lips twisted and a look of pain crossed his face. ‘That, at present, is not an option,’ he replied shortly. Then he forced his lips into some semblance of a smile and said jauntily, ‘Come now! Surely you cannot have forgotten our agreement already? A purely temporary arrangement for our mutual benefits only. It would not do for us to lose sight of our objectives, so there will be no further mention of monies changing hands, I beg of you!’

There was an awkward pause and then, with a rueful grin, he added, ‘It would seem that I owe you yet another apology, Miss Wheatley. For me to burden you with my troubles—!’

‘Oh, no more apologies this evening, if you please, sir!’ Helena broke in, her voice wavering slightly. ‘My mother was often wont to say that a trouble shared is a trouble halved.’