Bething's Folly (9 page)

“Miss Bethingame? Miss Bethingame?”

She jerked back to the here and now where, standing in the sunshine, tapping his riding crop against his boots, Alexander Carleton was concernedly looking down at her.

“Oh. Good afternoon, my Lord. I didn’t see you approach.” She gave him a vague smile.

“I know. I’ve been walking over all the place looking for you. Do you always go out without telling anyone where you are?”

“I was just thinking. Besides, I was not expecting anyone.” She looked up at him suspiciously. “I believe I did ask you not to call.”

“Yes, but I thought I might be of assistance.” He did not say that he almost rode over as soon as he received her note to find out what had happened, what he could do to help. Instead he had sent a man with a nonsense reply, on a reconnaissance mission. The groom was not to return until he knew exactly what was going on at Bething’s Folly. Carleton therefore knew all about her uncle’s arrival, and more, but this was going to be one of those conversations where he had to proceed carefully, as were most with Miss Bethingame. She might speak her own mind with sometimes lamentable consequences; he dared not. For instance, while he wanted to take this forlorn little figure in his arms and comfort her, he teasingly asked if he might sit down, since she had neglected to invite him. As expected, she recovered enough spirit to advise him not to be a ninny. He was here, wasn’t he? She made room for him on the marble bench; he chuckled and sat down, then asked if he might know what had caused her such distress.

“Ah, Sir Galahad. My uncle, that’s what. An odious, obnoxious man. He arrived the night of Margaret’s ball, all puffed up with his own righteousness, poking and prying into my business. He is refusing to let the Pride race in the Ardsley Cup because it would be a poor reflection on the family name! Have you ever heard such nonsense?”

“And what did you do?”

“Me? I ... I lost my temper.”

“You, Miss Bethingame?” She looked over quickly and yes, there was that damnable smile. She had to smile back, her anger and despair forgotten for a moment. She even had to laugh when she described last night’s dinner, the look on her uncle’s face. She’d come down late, in a gown she had never worn because it was too low-cut, no matter how fashionable Ellie said it was. Then she had proceeded to feed her over-cooked quail to Aunt Claudia’s pug, at which Uncle Aubry naturally took exception and ordered the dog removed. Elizabeth just as naturally declared it was
her
home and the dog would stay. None of the servants would interfere, suddenly disappearing into the kitchen. Claudia was wailing Oh my’s into her napkin and Aubry, to prove his point and his power, made to evict the animal himself. With a stranger at his hindquarters and roast quail at his pushed-in nose, the dog’s reaction was immediate—and painful to Lord Bethingame. Not too bloody, because of the old dog’s rotten teeth, but enough.

“Uncle was almost apoplectic!” Elizabeth laughed. “You should have seen him!”

“I’m afraid I did...
”

“What do you mean? He left early this morning, so you could not have passed him on the road.”

“No, he—um—he stopped to pay his respects to the Duke on his way to London.”

“But he doesn’t even know the Duke, to my knowledge, and Carlyle is not on the way to London. I don’t understand.”

“Luckily the Duke was off with his bailiff; I had the, ah, pleasure of receiving your uncle.” He went on quickly, before she could interrupt: “He mentioned you might be going to stay up north with him and his lady shortly.”

“That’s absurd! Aunt Eunice would never have me, even if I would go. No, whatever the purpose of his call, it was not that. I wonder what he really had in mind.”

“I believe,” Carleton said slowly, carefully, “that he wished to ascertain if my intentions toward you were honourable.”

“Why, of all the encroaching, insulting—I hope you threw him out!”

“I did better than that ... I offered for you.”

“You did
what
?”

“I asked his permission to make my addresses to you. Miss Beth—Elizabeth, please listen. I know this sounds horrible, and you have every reason to be angry. Since I hardly know you, only for a week or so, I have no right to speak of emotions; indeed, I’m sure you would only be offended. But if you consider this reasonably—don’t look at me like that—you’ll see the advantages of such a proposition. Think of it as a business transaction if you must. You will get to keep the Folly forever, with no guardians or overseers; your solicitors can draw up a contract so that neither the property nor the proceeds ever come to me or my family. You can leave it to your children, or charity! I promise never to interfere. You will, of course, have a marriage settlement to ensure your future and to refurbish the house, and you will still have your freedom to do whatever you want. We would have to take a house in London, of course, and spend some time there, but not too much. And we could live here, if you like, when we’re in the country, instead of at Carlyle.”

She was staring at him peculiarly, as if he had just sprouted another nose. “Excuse me, Lord Carleton—”

“Alexander, please.”

“Lord Carleton. Sir, I wonder about your sanity.”

He smiled but went on anyway. “I am entirely sane and serious. You already have my respect; I think we could learn to deal very well together.”

“Lord Carleton, I do not wish to seem ungrateful of the honour, but you offer me my farm, my freedom, respect—and money, too. Exactly what do
you
get out of this, besides a wife you don’t want?”

He knew this question would be coming, so he’d prepared an answer on his way over. He was not about to reply that he would get what he wanted most, the chance to hold her, to look after her, to teach her to love him as he loved her. No, he was sure enough of his stratagems but not confident enough to chance being repulsed by some independent young chit. He laughed at himself—his first offer of marriage, and the first woman he’d had to bargain with! Still, Elizabeth was waiting for an answer.

“I need a wife, you know that. I think you are someone whose company I could enjoy, who would understand my having interests of my own, as you have yours. You would be a wife I could be proud of, for make no mistake, there will be demands on you. You will be Duchess someday, remember. You will have to be presented and take your place in Society, run a household and entertain.”

She was not satisfied, he could see that, but there was no more explanation coming. She asked, testing, “Could I race my horses under my own name?”

“Your name would be Carleton, of course, something I would have to insist on, but I would be pleased to have you use it if your horses are as good as you say. No one can stop you from keeping and using your stable’s name, however, not even your uncle, though I would like to see him try.”

“And the Ardsley Cup?”

“Yes, that’s a problem, that and your uncle’s threat to carry you away. I would have waited until we knew each other better, but the race is in two months and I know how much you are counting on it. I’m sure I’ve given you better reasons for accepting me, Elizabeth, but here is the most pressing: Your uncle simply won’t let you race; I will ... Lord, I feel as though I’m proposing to a horse!” He laughed, sure she would see the ridiculousness of the situation as he did, or at least become angry, which would be equally in keeping. She remained very quiet, however, withdrawn, only saying she would need some time to consider what he had said.

Elizabeth remained in the garden for a long time after Carleton left, staring at nothing. She had just been offered two things she dearly loved—the Folly and, yes, Lord Alexander Carleton himself. Only one thing was missing, she thought bitterly. He’d spoken of respect and pride and contracts, not one word of love! He had not even kissed the woman he would marry. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Elizabeth cried for the first time since her father’s death.

ELEVEN

Things looked different to Elizabeth the next morning. Carleton mightn’t love her, but he was willing to marry her, and that was a start! She could not refuse him, not for practical considerations, not for
any
reasons. When he came to tea her hand only trembled slightly as she poured for him and Aunt Claudia; her voice only quavered a little when she made the announcement: “Aunt Claudia, I have some news. Lord Carleton has done me the honour of asking me to be his wife, and I have accepted.” Lady Burke’s sweet roll dropped out of her fingers—the pug lunged for it. Her eyes filled with tears, the older woman jumped up to kiss Elizabeth, blubbering how happy she was. She offered her cheek to Carleton before rushing from the room to fetch Taylor and some champagne. When she had left, the Marquis raised Elizabeth’s hand and kissed it.

“Thank you, Elizabeth. You’ll see, it was the right choice.” It was the only choice, as they both knew, but he was bound to show her every consideration.

There were champagne toasts and congratulations from Taylor and Cook and Bessie, and Jackson brought in, and exclamations over the heirloom diamond and sapphire ring presented for inspection, which was too big.

“I knew it wouldn’t fit, but I wanted you to see it first. I could have it reset if you’d like, or buy a new one, if you would prefer,” Carleton said when they were alone again.

“No, it is exquisite ... Did you know I’d accept, that you brought it along?”

He smiled. “I was hoping. Besides, it will save time. There’s a great deal to be done. I shall be off to London tomorrow, now that that is settled. I wish to speak to your uncle before he leaves, have the house opened, make arrangements—all kinds of things. Come, walk outside with me, will you? We have a lot of details to consider.”

The first problem was when to hold the wedding and where.

“Must it be a big wedding at St. George’s in Hanover Square, with half the
ton
? I would much rather be married by the vicar here in the chapel, if that is agreeable to you,” she said.

“That would be fine. I deplore those London circuses, and all the relatives we would have to have. It will mean a few less tablecloths and tea sets, but I dare say we’ll manage without. Mother can be persuaded to hold a reception in Town, so no one will be too much offended. St. George’s would take a great deal of time to arrange besides, I’m sure, so this will be better. My father’s groom informs me that entries for major horse races are closed a month before the race date, which does not give us much leeway, if Elizabeth Bethingame Carleton is to appear on the papers. Do you like the sound of it?” He stopped walking to look down at her, but she chose to misinterpret his question.

“Then we must be wed shortly. Yes, that sounds fine. I can wear Mama’s wedding gown, so I’ll be ready whenever you obtain the license.” She was trying not to bounce up and down in eagerness; he was disturbed by her lack of enthusiasm. They really did not know each other well. He took her arm and started walking again.

“No, we cannot simply be married like that. There will be gossip enough as is.” Lord, he thought, if he just married her out of hand next week, what a feast the vultures would have on her reputation! “Besides, you should have a gown of your own, a trousseau and all those things. Why, Margaret has started already, and she won’t be married until next winter. You know, that just might help us. Mother has promised to take Margaret to London for her bride clothes. Perhaps they could be persuaded to go next week, and you and your aunt could be Mother’s guests at Carlyle House. That way you can get introduced around before the announcement, see about your clothes, be there to look at houses with me.”

“I don’t know ... Aunt Claudia won’t travel. She says it makes her sick, but I believe it’s the pug who can’t stand long carriage rides. Either way she’ll never go to London, just for a shopping expedition.”

“Well, Mother will be happy to have you anyway; in fact, she could say you are a friend of Margaret’s, so you won’t be bothered so much at first.”

Details of the trip were left pending consultation with the Duchess. Other items were discussed, such as a companion for her aunt, the wedding breakfast, the honeymoon. They agreed the breakfast would be better held at Carlyle Hall, with its larger facilities. As to the wedding trip, Elizabeth refused to miss the last of her horse’s training or the race itself, so they would return to London after the wedding to their new house, and plan a tour for the summer. This took care of immediate concerns, except for a letter to Elizabeth’s solicitors concerning the legal contract to be drawn. Carleton wished to stop for it on his way to London in the morning.

“I never want you to think I married you for your property.” He smiled, despite being serious. When he sensed she would have made some comment about why he
did
propose to marry her, he quickly went on: “I am sure my mother will want to call. May I bring her along when I come tomorrow morning?”

“Must she know about the contract, business transaction, as you call it?”

“She will only know that I offered for you and you did me the honour of accepting. She’ll be thrilled. You’re not sorry you did accept me, are you, because of all these details?” He smiled down at her, then gently put his hand to her cheek and lightly, quickly, kissed her. No, she was not sorry.

Elizabeth was a little nervous about receiving the Duchess, whose first words, however, after greetings and congratulations were “What can I do to help?” She expressed her delight in introducing Elizabeth to London, her readiness to agree to any plans Elizabeth and Carleton had already made. She regretted the haste in preparations but seemed to understand the difficulties about uncles and race horses as though they were an everyday problem. There were no experienced opinions being dictated to Elizabeth, no lectures about what she must do and not do. Seeing the two women so happily in sympathy with each other, and Aunt Claudia fussing contentedly, Carleton excused himself to continue his journey to Town with letters to the solicitors, Ellie and Elizabeth’s old governess. He would return in a few days with, it was hoped, arrangements well under way, and then escort the ladies back to London when they were ready.

“Maybe I shall even get to see Folly’s Pride between times,” he joked on his way out. “Perhaps I’ll ask him to be my best man.”

After his departure, talk reverted to members of the wedding. Ferddie Milbrooke would of course stand up with Carleton; whom did Elizabeth have in mind for her attendants?

“I thought I might ask Margaret, your Grace, since I really have no one closer and we are to be cousins. There is a difficulty about someone to give my away, however,” Elizabeth said uncertainly.

“I thought your uncle was your guardian...?”

“Yes, your Grace, he is, but I have never been
his,
to give away or not. In fact, I dislike him excessively and have refused to have him under my roof.”

“Oh, my. Alexander did warn me you were something of an Original.” She said this with a smile, no hint of reproof. “Who else is there? No brothers, but a cousin perhaps? An uncle from your mother’s family?”

“No, there is no one like that. I would love to have Robbie, who has been like an uncle to me, but I don’t suppose it would do the Duke’s health much good to have his daughter-in-law being given away by the head groom!”

Both women laughed, then the Duchess said, “Thank you for considering the Duke’s feelings, my dear. I’m afraid my husband would find the idea enchanting, but I am afraid you would suffer when the newspapers recounted the tale. How would it be if your uncle were invited to Carlyle for the wedding? That way you would only need see him for the ceremony, not under your roof! You could say the house was filled, as I understand you’ll want your governess here, and your Mademoiselle Elena, to help with your clothes.”

“Yes, and we’ll be having rooms redone for Lord Carleton,” Aunt Claudia put in, surprising Elizabeth, who hadn’t yet thought of that necessity.

“Of course. Are you sure you won’t mind, your Grace, for there is my Aunt Eunice, too. She is nearly as impossible as Uncle Aubry.”

“I assure you there is room enough at Carlyle Hall to lose an entire family tree of odious relatives! Are there children, too?”

“There are four terrible brats. I see no reason to invite them, especially with the chapel so small.”

“What a shame. Flower girls and ring-bearers always look so charming.”

“The girls would only trip each other in the aisles, your Grace, and one of the boys would be bound to swallow the ring!”

When even Aunt Claudia admitted that the stable boys would add more dignity to the occasion, the Duchess laughingly conceded. She went away from the visit well pleased and passed along her satisfaction to the Duke, together with an invitation for them to dine at Bething after Carleton’s return, “If your Grace is up to it,” the Duchess repeated, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, yes, your new daughter says that you might come early, if you wish to view the finest thoroughbred ever born to race.”

“ ‘The finest thoroughbred ever,’ is it? Yes, she’s Bething’s daughter, all right! Damn, I like the chit already. Well, tell her I am up to it!”

A flurry of activity now swirled around Elizabeth such as she had never seen in her quiet life. First there were preparations for her journey to London—she had to look her best to go shopping—a dinner for the Duke, renovation of certain rooms in the manor. There were letters, interviews and lists. Everything in the house had to be discussed with Taylor and Aunt Claudia, everything on the grounds with Jackson. When Carleton returned, he had great news of a small house on Grosvenor Square he was hoping she would approve. He also told her she might now go ahead with whatever plans she had for the Folly, as her own modest funds were finally released to her, plus a handsome marriage settlement. In addition, he had somehow managed to convince Uncle Aubry to pay for her trousseau, whatever she needed.

“So you can shop London bare! I expect to have the best-dressed wife in Town. Remember to order what you will need for the summer, too. Aubry expected a honeymoon trip.”

“How did you do it? I can’t imagine him offering such a gift!”

“Not without a little prompting. All it took was
my
offering to pay for your bride clothes. It didn’t take him long to see how he would look if the bills for his ward were sent to me. So you have a special account just to handle your purchases.”

Elizabeth clapped and was delighted to learn that her uncle would already have left for his home by the time she reached London.

Dinner for the Duke and Duchess went smoothly, especially after Folly’s Pride was brought up and paraded around the front drive. Carleton was still a little skeptical, saying he would like to see the beast run before he put money on him, but the Duke declared his prospects excellent, more so after Elizabeth recounted his background over dinner. The Duke could not have been more enthusiastically approving—of the horse and his son’s fiancée—if he had raised them himself. He was so pleased with Elizabeth, in fact, that he told Carleton the Grosvenor Square house would be their wedding present, if she liked it, of course.

And then London! The trip alone was a novelty, with Margaret companionably excited. Elizabeth had been to Town with her father to see the sights and visit horse sales, but not since his death, not as a young woman. The crowds, the noise, even the dirt fascinated her all over again. Now she noticed gowns, carriages, houses. Mademoiselle Elena was sent for as soon as the ladies arrived in Berkeley Square. Ellie, all hugs and smiles, arrived with a carriage full of samples, sketches and assistants. The samples were discussed in committee first, for immediate needs. As Mademoiselle explained to the Duchess, the samples were always in Miss Bitsy’s size, as repayment of the debt she owed the previous Lord Bethingame. She was as excited as Elizabeth that the new Earl would be paying for the new gowns, since she was not in his debt at all! Next, sketches were brought out, and swatches of materials. Ellie’s design for the wedding gown was instantly approved, although laces could not be selected until the veil worn by generations of Carlyle brides was unearthed. Elizabeth ordered one special ball gown for utmost priority, the dinner-dance the Duchess would give in a week’s time to announce the betrothal. She also chose designs for two other evening dresses, a military-style riding habit, and a promenade gown for now, summer gowns for later.

“Ah,
ma chérie
, there is no time for more! After the wedding, anything! Until then, this is all I can provide. You must patronise the other modistes also, it is only fitting for the wife of a Marquis.”

Margaret was to have two of the sample gowns altered to fit since their colours were more becoming to her than to Elizabeth, and the Duchess ordered a gown from one of the sketches she admired, to be made up whenever it would be convenient. Deeply gratified, Ellie was certain that for the Duchess, next week would be convenient if she had to sew Elizabeth’s wedding gown herself on the way to the ceremony!

The following days were spent shopping, indeed patronising almost every fashionable store in London. There were underclothes and nightdresses, shoes and bonnets to be purchased, in addition to more dresses for every imaginable purpose. Hours were spent in fittings and browsing, one entire morning at the Pantheon Bazaar selecting ribbons, fans and gloves. The Duchess often sent the two girls out with Bessie and footmen while she made social calls. After luncheon tradesmen came to show samples of wallpaper and upholstery fabrics for the Grosvenor Square House, which Elizabeth had loved at first sight. It even had a small garden in the back. Carleton was staying in his bachelor rooms, coming to Carlyle House for meals and these conferences. He generally approved Elizabeth’s choices, except for his study, where he wished to place the furniture from his present residence.

“But I intend to use the study, too,” Elizabeth protested. “In fact, I plan to do a lot of business while I am in London. I cannot discuss stud fees in a gilt-edged drawing room!” A compromise was reached whereby an office was created between the dining room and the present study, necessitating tearing walls down, more workmen, more confusion, but Elizabeth was satisfied. Carleton’s days were mostly spent at the new house, overseeing the crews, or at various official buildings, tracking down permits and licenses. The two were almost never alone together, their only quiet times the short carriage rides in the park with Margaret along. Both girls had to be present for tea, for the Duchess was carefully inviting the most influential of London’s hostesses to meet them. The Duchess never warned Elizabeth, “Lady Jersey comes today, so be on your best behaviour if you wish the voucher for Almack’s,” or “Lady Rothingill joins us; she is the worst gossip in Town.” Elizabeth was introduced as a young friend of Margaret’s, from the country. Although most of the guests had their own thoughts on the matter, such was the Duchess’s stature that if she had declared Miss Bethingame a Red Indian princess from the colonies, so she would have been considered. It was the Duchess’s game; she had only to announce the rules and everyone was delighted to play. Most of these women were impressed with Elizabeth for her own sake, as Lady Carlyle had counted on. Her natural charm was found to be unspoiled by the boredom affected among the sophisticates; neither was she awkwardly shy, like an unfledged debutante. Anyone who had known her mother was instantly her friend, as was anyone remotely interested in horses, fashions or a hundred other topics.