Mary Nichols – The Hemingford Scandal (страница 2)

‘Mr Allworthy.’ She dipped a curtsy, but she could feel her face growing hot and quickly turned to her father. He was a good head shorter than their visitor and was clearly not particular about his dress. It had been different when her mother was alive, but now he put on whatever came first to hand when he rose in the morning. On this occasion, he was wearing dark blue trousers and a brown coat with darker velvet revers. His white cravat was unstarched and tied anyhow; his grey hair, thin and wispy, stood out all over his head as if he had been running his hands through it. ‘Papa, you sent for me?

‘Indeed I did.’ He was beaming at her. She felt a shiver of apprehension as she realised he was pleased with himself. At last he had managed to find someone to take his foolish daughter off his hands. She knew she had been a great trial to him, becoming engaged to Harry and then breaking it off. Not that it was the breaking off that had caused the scandal; that had come before and left her no choice in the matter. Papa had not blamed her; he had simply accepted the fact and left her to make what she could of her life. But he must have been worried. Poor dear, it was unfair of her to make difficulties for him.

‘Mr Allworthy wishes to speak to you,’ he said. ‘I know you will listen carefully to what he has to say.’

‘Of course, Papa.’ She dare not look at the young man, but she could not but be aware of him; his presence seemed to fill the room. There was an air of expectancy, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for a pause in time before it resumed ticking away in a different rhythm.

‘Then we will leave you.’ He beckoned to Aunt Lane and they left the room.

The clock ticked louder than ever. Or was it her heart pumping in her throat? ‘Mr Allworthy,’ she said, sitting on the sofa and placing her hands in her lap. ‘Won’t you be seated?’

He came and sat beside her, perching himself on the edge of the seat, half-facing her, and doubling his long legs under him, so that she was afraid he might fall to the ground. ‘Miss Hemingford, I trust you are well?’

‘Very well, Mr Allworthy. And you?’

‘I am in the best of health, thank you, but as to my mental state, that is not so sanguine. I have never done this before, you see.’

‘Done what, Mr Allworthy?’

‘Proposed marriage.’ He paused, smiling. ‘I have reached thirty years of age and never found a lady that I felt I wanted to marry, until now, that is…’

‘Are your standards so exacting?’ She was teasing him, which she knew was unkind and she had never knowingly been unkind. ‘I am sorry, sir, I interrupted you.’

‘Yes, you did, but I am not to be put off, you know.’ He seized one of her hands in both his own. ‘I have formed a deep attachment to you, very deep. In short, I admire you greatly and would be honoured and privileged if you would consent to be my wife.’

‘Mr Allworthy!’ She tried to retrieve her hand, but he held it too firmly. Rather than tussle with him, she let it lie.

‘Do not tell me you did not expect it.’

‘I did not, not before today. I do not know what to say.’

‘Say yes and you will make me the happiest man in the world.’

‘But we hardly know each other.’

‘Oh, I think we do. I know you well enough to be sure that my future happiness lies in your hands. I believe I recognised that the first moment I saw you at Mrs Bradford’s a month ago. You are so exactly my vision of a perfect wife, well bred, beautiful, intelligent and honest and yet you are no milksop. As for me, I am in possession of a small estate in north Norfolk. The house is not especially large, not what you might call a mansion, but it is well proportioned, and there is a small park and a farm. I am not, I confess, as rich as Golden Ball, but I am certainly not without funds and I have expectations—’ He broke off as if he had said too much, and then continued. ‘You would never want for comfort. I am persuaded we could be very happy together.’

It was a pretty speech and the fact that he could not command the wealth of Mr Edward Ball mattered not one jot, but she was sure he did not know as much about her as he claimed, for who would want to marry someone who had broken off a previous engagement? ‘Oh, dear, this is difficult. Mr Allworthy, there are things you should know about me. I am not in my first Season. I am twenty years old and I must confess that I have been engaged before…’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘Your papa told me of it, but he assures me it is all over and done with.’

‘Indeed, it is.’

‘Then it is not an impediment, not if you love me.’

‘I cannot say that I do.’

‘But you have no great aversion?’

‘Oh, no, sir, no aversion at all.’

‘Then I shall do everything in my power to make you love me.’

‘Can one make someone do something like that? I mean, is it not something we cannot help, that is beyond our power to command or deny?’

‘Perhaps, but perhaps the feeling is already there, hidden inside ourselves and simply needs bringing to the fore and acknowledging. Do you understand me?’

‘Oh, perfectly, Mr Allworthy.’

‘Then what do you say?’

‘Sir, I cannot give you an answer today. Marriage is an important step for anyone to take and I need to think about it.’ She smiled. ‘I was too young before, carried along on someone else’s enthusiasm. I did not know what I was doing. I do not want to make the same mistake again and it has made me cautious.’

‘I understand, indeed I do. I shall not press you for the present.’ He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. His lips were cold and dry on her skin. ‘But allow me to hope. In your kindness, allow me that.’

She looked into his face. It was a handsome face, squarish, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones. His eyes were dark, unusual for someone with fair hair, and his brows were straight and thick. As far as she could tell, his expression was one of deep sincerity. ‘I cannot forbid you to hope,’ she said, rising to her feet to bring the interview to an end.

‘Then that is what I shall do.’ He rose too, many inches taller than she was. ‘I should like to invite you and your papa to Coprise Manor for a short stay. I am sure when you see it, you will love it. And if you want to change anything, you have only to ask.’

‘Mr Allworthy, you go too fast. I am quite breathless.’

He looked down at her; she was blushing prettily. ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Hemingford, I am too impatient, I can see that. But perhaps I may have the pleasure of taking you and your aunt out in my carriage this afternoon? The weather is set fair and it will give us an opportunity to learn more about each other.’

‘I am afraid I must plead a previous engagement,’ she said, smiling to mitigate his disappointment. ‘Tomorrow, perhaps?’ She moved to the hearth and tugged at the bell-pull.

‘Indeed, yes, I shall look forward to it. Will two o’clock suit?’

‘I shall expect you at two,’ she confirmed as Bromwell arrived to show him out. He bowed and was gone.

She sank back onto the sofa and let out her breath in a long sigh. It had all been very formal, very correct. There was nothing about his behaviour with which she could quarrel, nothing at all. And yet… She did not want to think about Harry, but this proposal had brought it all back. Harry, boisterous, jolly, teasing Harry, whom she had known almost all her life, had kissed her, a long bruising kiss that left her shaken and exhilarated, and then had said, ‘You’re the one for me, Jane, no use denying it. We were meant for each other, so shall we announce our engagement?’ She had been so sure of herself and of him…

Her melancholy thoughts were interrupted by the return of Aunt Lane, rushing into the room, her small dark eyes alight. ‘Well?’ she demanded. ‘Are we to felicitate you?’

‘Not yet, Aunt. You did not expect me to agree on the first time of asking, did you?’

‘Oh, you naughty puss, so he is to be kept dangling, is he?’

‘He may dangle if he wishes, but I rather think he has more spine than that. Besides, I have told him he may hope.’

‘Oh, that is as good as a yes! Now, we must make plans, organise a party—’

‘Hold your horses, Aunt, I cannot see that letting Mr Allworthy hope is the same as saying yes, truly I cannot and there will be no announcement until I do. And you cannot go organising parties before the announcement, can you?’ She smiled and bent to kiss her aunt’s cheek. ‘I’m sorry to spoil your fun.’

Aunt Lane wagged a black-mittened finger at her. ‘You are a dreadful tease, Jane. It is to be hoped you will not roast him too, for I do not think he will stand for it.’

‘He understands that I must have time to consider his proposal and is prepared to wait for an answer. Are you free tomorrow afternoon? He has asked us to take a carriage ride with him.’

‘Even if I were not free I would make myself so.’ She paused. ‘Oh, Jane, I am so pleased for you. I was beginning to despair.’

‘But why should you despair, Aunt?’

‘I should have come before. I should have helped you to get over that disgraceful business sooner, but I thought no, let her come to it in her own time. I should have known you had no one to take you out and about and make sure you were seen. James always has his head in his books and hardly knows what day it is; I should not have left it to him.’