An Inconvenient Engagement Read online

  Penelope stopped to call a maid and order refreshement, then said, “She has gone riding with the Strathoms and Lord Tollingham. And, since I do not ride, I thought I would just stay home. Lucky for me you came by.” She smiled sweetly. “I have not seen you since the ball.” They went into the parlor, where Eliza looked around, enchanted. They paused by the piano forte.

  “No, we have been busying and doing and I have been sewing. I understand you play very well – would you?”

  Penelope’s eyes widened and she smiled. “Well, I was practicing when I saw you. Do you really want to hear?”

  “Please!”

  Eliza sat while Penelope played. Eliza could see that music was the same as spinning to the other girl and was alive to the fact that it was much more entertaining. By the end of the piece, tea had been brought in. Eliza ran her hand along the edge of the piano forte and said, “You truly are gifted.”

  Penelope demurred, “Not gifted, but I do so love to play.” They sat down beside the tea tray, and Penelope began to pour.

  Eliza lifted the teacup Penelope handed her, examining the delicate painting and exclaimed, “Oh my, these are lovely.”

  “Thank you! They were my grandmother’s and my personal favorites. When Father moved me out here, this was one of the sets I insisted on bringing with me.” Penelope smiled shyly and sipped from one of the cups.

  “I can see why! Are they French?”

  “Yes, Grandmama was French, and she brought them over with her and her trousseau.”

  Eliza nibbled one of the little sandwiches. “These are excellent as well!”

  Penelope beamed. “I am so glad you came. I did not know you had a pony trap like Henrietta.”

  “Nothing like! I am half-afraid it will fall apart or my Bunch will drop dead asleep. I should not have taken it out, but I was that tired of being indoors, and I just wanted to go somewhere.”

  Penelope nodded. “I should have liked to go riding, but we have never kept horses, and it seems a bit late to start now.”

  “The only horse I have ever known is Bunch, and I don’t think I have ever ridden him. I used to ask, but there was never enough for a saddle, lessons, and all that would entail.”

  They were quiet, each contemplating life without horses. Penelope shook herself and said, “I suppose I should be happy to be home for a while, but this house has never felt like home. I love the country, but at least in town I can see my father every day.”

  “He stays in London?”

  “Yes. Since Mother died, he has thrown himself into his business. I don’t see him much. He travels quite a lot and is always making connexions. He is determined for me to marry well.”

  “That seems to be all of our lot.”

  “Indeed. But I had so much rather marry for love.”

  “And that is all of our hope!”

  Penelope nodded, suddenly somber. She absently stirred her tea before asking, “Where will you go after this?”

  Eliza sighed. “I don’t know, perhaps farther on just to look about. I have never had a need to go to Winder and so have not travelled this part of the road much.”

  “No, perhaps it is because Stanton is on the way to London.”

  Perhaps.” Eliza set her empty cup down. “I should probably go before Bunch eats so much; he won’t pull.” Both girls rose, and Penelope walked her out to where the pony was eating large mouthfuls of grass. “Thank you so much for the tea.”

  Penelope squeezed her hand and smiled. “You are welcome. Please be careful!”

  “With Bunch, there is nothing else to be.” She smiled back and climbed into the trap and had to work hard to coax the pony away from the grass.

  She continued on the winder road leading away from the village. She knew that somewhere close would be the lane that led to the Abbey, but she tried not to look as though that was her intention. She could not help but look at the noble gateway and the small lodge that denoted the entrance to the Abbey grounds with some awe. To think, what would it be like to be mistress of such a place. She wished she had some excuse to ride through that archway and up to the house, but she kept Bunch’s head turned toward the road as she edged slowly past. She was not far past the gateway when there was a cracking sound, followed by a tilt to one side.

  “Oh, no! Please let it be something I can fix,” she cried aloud.

  She climbed gingerly down and looked under the trap. The support holding the seat had collapsed, and it was now resting almost on the axle. She blew out a breath in frustration. Leading Bunch along she checked to see if the wheels would turn. They did not.

  There was nothing for it. She would have to leave the cart and lead the pony home. As she finished unhitching him from the trap, she heard hoofbeats in profusion coming over the rise in the fields off to her left. Six horses then sailed over the fence and came thundering down toward her. Bunch looked up with interest, and her grip tightened as she recognized Sir William on his big brown mare.

  She was horrified that he would discover her so close to his estate. What would he think?

  Henrietta looked absolutely perfect in her dark blue riding habit. She sat her sidesaddle perfectly perfectly, as though there was no other way to sit a horse. Reginald wore a smile and looked highly amused. Lord Tollingham, another young lady who resembled him strongly, Sir William, and his brother made up the party.

  Henrietta spoke first, though Eliza was aware of Sir William’s eyes on her. “Miss Denham! What has happened?”

  “I just came from tea with Miss Pratt and thought I would explore. But my cart has broken.”

  “Oh, my dear! Let us help you!”

  “No! I am well, and so is Bunch. I will have one of the lads fetch the cart later. It will come to no harm.”

  “Let us, at least, escort you back to the village,” Sir William spoke for the first time.

  “I say, good idea. Make sure nothing else goes amiss, eh?” Lord Tollingham said.

  Eliza was horrified to be seen for so long by such elevated company. “Please, do not trouble yourselves. I do not wish to interfere with your ride.”

  “Nonsense,” said Sir William, dismounting, “This is just part of the adventure.” He smiled and began walking beside her. Neither saw the looks exchanged between Lord Tollingham and his sister.

  “Perhaps someone would make the introduction?” Tollie’s sister said.

  Henrietta lifted a gloved hand to her mouth, “Oh I apologize! Lady Margaret Tollingham, this is Miss Denham, a cousin of mine.” Eliza curtseyed, and Lady Margaret nodded stiffly in acknowledgement.

  “I did not know you were as adventurous as our Miss Darrow,” Sir William said.

  “I think our Henrietta has been a bad influence!” Reginald laughed.

  “No indeed!” Eliza protested. “But I have enjoyed our outings.”

  “My dear – what a shame to have it spoiled,” Henrietta said.

  “It is of no importance. I just thought I would take a little drive and see Miss Pratt. Then, I just did not feel like going home just yet. I had thought there was a little more life left in the cart!” Eliza bit her lip and gripped the reins leading to the shaggy pony.

  “Mmm. Apparently not. George!” William said as they were passing the gate to Tredwell. “Ride along and let Rivers know that Miss Denham’s cart is stuck on the road, would you?”

  George looked as though he would rather spit nails, but he reined his horse toward the gates and spurred him to a canter.

  “Please, sir, do not trouble yourself!” begged Eliza.

  “It’s no trouble. Is your pony injured?” Sir William asked.

  “No. He is just old and slow.” Bunch nodded his head and lipped at Eliza’s hand. They both smiled.

  “I have one like that. He has truly earned his retirement,” said Sir William.

  “I think Bunch would like that, but then he is rarely called upon to do much more than eat.” They were approaching the Pratt’s and the outskirts of Lytchley. George came cantering
up to them,

  “Rivers is taking care of it.” He looked up pointedly at the first signs of the village and added, slightly out of breath, “Well, she is safely delivered to town. Shall we?”

  “Yes! Please, let us do be on our way!” Lady Margaret agreed.

  “Maggie!” Tollie protested.

  “It was so kind of you all. Thank you.” Eliza curtseyed her goodbye and smiled one last time at Sir William. She turned and urged Bunch to a slightly quicker pace. Sir William remounted his horse, and the clatter of their hooves filled the air as the six of them rode back toward the Abbey.

  She was mortified. The whole village now knew that her ancient pony-trap with the hitch in the seat had broken down, and he of all people had found her practically gawking on his front steps! The opinion of his friends was only too obvious, and it was only his superior manners that had saved even a fragment of her pride. Oh! Why was she always to be found by him in some embarrassing position!

  There was a fair share of good-natured ribbing as she led the pony through the street without the trap. One or two offers of help were refused by simply saying Sir William was taking care of it. The row of shops finally came to an end, and she was free from stares as she completed the trip home.

  Bessie was in the garden as she came into view and stood there, hands on hips, as she led Bunch through the carriage house and out into the little paddock where she removed the bridle and set him loose.

  “Miss Eliza – where is the trap?”

  “It is on the road to Winder. Sir William is seeing to it.”

  “Sir William, again,” said Bessie.

  Eliza said nothing. She hung the bridle up on its peg and straightened some of the implements on the bench.

  “Well, come in and get cleaned up. It’s Tuesday.”

  Tuesday? Her heart sank. She was tired from her adventure and had no desire to spend the evening with the curate and his antiquated and stifling opinions. She drew in a deep breath, thinking how happy her uncle was to have someone to visit and play backgammon with, and she swallowed her irritation. Perhaps she would wear her green gown this evening. It would have the added benefit of making her feel fine and reminding her of when she had danced with Sir William.

  He had already arrived by the time she made her way downstairs. “I heard about the unfortunate episode with the pony trap. I trust you are all right?”

  Uncle shook his head. “I don’t understand why you took that old cart out. It is in such poor shape that it is no wonder that it broke down and stranded you. Thank goodness for Sir William…”

  “Sir William?!” Mr. Waddell’s voice cracked.

  “Yes. He took charge of it and had his men remove it from the side of the road where it lay. Then, he escorted Eliza to town. Interrupted his riding party to do so!” Uncle was nearly animated with gratitude.

  “Sir William is a perfect gentleman,” Eliza said.

  “I’m sure he was as surprised as I was to find you alone on the side of the road.” Mr. Waddell said severely.

  “I had Bunch, so I was not completely alone.”

  Mr. Waddell looked confused for a moment, then said, “The presence of a pony is not adequate protection for something as fragile as a woman’s reputation.”

  Eliza was tired, and her irritation flared. “Pray, Mr. Waddell, what ill fortune was I to expect within the reach of my very own village? What horrors await me that require me to remain confined to my house even during the brightest part of the day?”

  “It is not that the threat is precipitate, so much as the potential for mishap is there…”

  “What mishap? What could happen to me while driving my pony around town?”

  He stuttered at that. “W…why, almost anything! Brigands, gypsies, rakes…”

  “And in your view, Lytchley is replete with these? I, personally, have never seen either a brigand or a gypsy within our environs, and I would not know how to spot a rake. However, I do know that I was scarcely out of view of one of my neighbors. In fact, no matter when or where I walk, I am almost always certain to meet with one or another. So I find your excessive concern over mine misplaced.”

  “I have every reason to be concerned for your reputation.” He paused. “That is, as curate and future rector of the parish, the wellbeing of all the inhabitants falls within my purview.”

  “Well, you need not worry for me. I am adequately cared for and guarded by my uncle and Miss Beams.”

  “It is to be hoped that they guard you as jealously as your future husband would want.”

  “Whoever that may be should rest assured in the knowledge that my virtue and reputation are of closest interest to myself most of all. If I am secure in them, everyone else should be.”

  Waddell gripped with table with frustration. “That is not how these things work.”

  “Well, that is how this will work. I am well able to determine the potential danger of any situation, and as yet have avoided being in any real danger at any time. If my Uncle, who is my guardian, is content, then so should everyone else who is unconnected with me.”

  Stung, Mr. Waddell sniffed and addressed her uncle. “Sir, I beg you would remind your niece of the dangers that may befall a young lady caught gallivanting about alone.”

  Uncle was distressed. “I would hope that I have not allowed Eliza too much freedom. I don’t consider her reputation as slighted in the least, and she has made some excellent arguments. In short, I respect her judgement. I thank you for your concern, but if Eliza is satisfied, then I am content.” Anxious to restore harmony, he added, “I believe supper is served. Please, let us go in!”

  Eliza was silent during supper in an attempt to avoid renewing any contentious conversation. Mr. Waddell maintained a thoughtful silence, responding to Uncle with somewhat distracted responses. Eventually, conversation came around to a proposed trip into Stanton and Uncle said,

  “I should have changed to our local attorneys, but have never done so. And now, I find I must go to Stanton to see my attorney whenever business matters come to hand. Tomorrow, for instance, I will take the post and be gone for much of the day.”

  “Does Miss Eliza go with you?”

  “No,” Eliza said. “She does not.”

  Mr. Waddell looked thoughtful. Dessert was brought in, then Eliza excused herself so the men could have their drop of port. By the time they joined her in the parlor, she was putting the finishing stitches into one of the shirts she had been making for her uncle. She trimmed a few threads that had escaped her scissors and folded it to put aside for the iron the following day.

  She was tired. The argument, however low key, with Mr. Waddell had taken much of what little energy she had left out of her. It had been a long day, and she was prevented from excusing herself by both social convention and concern for her Uncle’s feelings. It was well past midnight when Mr. Waddell finally rose from the backgammon board and said his goodnights. Eliza retreated gratefully to bed.

  Chapter Ten

  The next day dawned with frost on the ground and ice in the air. Fires were lit quickly to ward off the chill that had invaded the house overnight. “Eliza—did you remember that I am going into Stanton today?” Uncle asked over a chilly breakfast.

  “Yes, Uncle. Will you be home for supper?”

  “It will depend on how soon I can see the attorney.”

  Eliza nodded and gave him an understanding smile. “Well, we will keep a plate for you if you aren’t home in time.”

  “Thank you, my dear.” He kissed her on the forehead and knotted his scarf. She pulled the lapels of his coat up and made sure his neck was completely covered by his scarf.

  “Keep warm, Uncle. It has gotten very cold the last day or so.”

  “Indeed. I think we are in for an early winter.” He stepped outside and hurried to the Post.

  An hour later, there was a clatter of wheels on the gravel outside, and she looked up to see her pony trap outside, drawn by a gray horse and driven by a boy of about thirteen.
He looked up as she exited the house and touched his cap. “Sir William sends his regards.”

  The trap had been repaired – indeed was better than before. No longer did the seat tip to one side nor the wheel bump as it turned. She helped guide it back into the carriage house, and the young man went off riding the horse. She sighed, looking at the trap and wondering how she could ever thank Sir William.

  It was an hour later when there came a knock at the door, and Eliza rose from the spinning wheel. She opened the door, only to see Mr. Waddell standing there, hat in hand. She had grown accustomed to seeing him on Sunday mornings and Tuesday evenings, but avoided him at all other times. She could only tell herself that Uncle was happy having a friend who brought companionship and conversation into his quiet evenings.

  But this was not Tuesday, and her uncle was off in Stanton as Mr. Waddell knew full well.

  “My uncle is not here, sir. Did you forget?”

  Mr. Waddell turned his hat in his hands and looked somewhat fierce. “I do recall his mentioning that he would be out for the day.”

  Eliza stepped aside to allow him to come in. They stood in silence in the parlor for a moment before she said, “Won’t you sit down?”

  “I thank you, no, I prefer to remain standing.”

  Eliza, halfway to sitting herself, rose in response and stood there, waiting for him to come to whatever point it was that had brought him here against his own scruples to see her alone. He did not keep her long in suspense.

  “Miss Denham, I feel called upon by my dear friendship with your uncle, and the deep admiration I feel for you to beg for your hand in marriage.”

  She gasped, and he continued, “You may well be surprised, knowing as you do how particular I am concerning the comportment of young ladies, and how much we have disagreed upon this subject. However,” he stopped her response with a raised hand, “it is for precisely that reason that I am here, now. Please, allow me to elaborate my reasons for singling you out.”

  “It was not long after my introduction to your Uncle and his fair descriptions of your character and accomplishments that I began to feel an interest in your person. Once you were in evidence, I found that none of the praise had been exaggerated. However, I noted that there was a tendency of yours to be independent in both thought and action in a way that was distressing – so harmful was it to your otherwise near perfection. I have tried, as a friend, to curb and mold your behavior in such a way that it emulates that model I have always held for myself – that of my mother who I may have mentioned before. Indeed, it is her shock at some of the situations I have described that has led me sometimes to question my intentions. Howsoever, I believe, in my heart, that we are compatible and that where I have failed as a friend, I may persevere in triumph as a husband and help you to become that essence of perfection in a wife!”