The Husband Season Read online

  ‘I know that, but it is never going to happen in Hadlea, is it?’

  ‘It did to me.’

  ‘Yes, but there is only one Mark.’

  ‘I know that.’ Jane smiled. ‘You are quite set on this, I can see. I will ask Mark’s opinion and if he says he can see no harm in it, then I will speak to Papa.’

  ‘Oh, you are the best of sisters. Thank you, thank you.’

  Confident of success, Sophie turned to other subjects: gossip and clothes, Harry’s newly acquired accomplishments, the latest doings of the children at the Hadlea Home and speculation on where Isabel might be and how long before they would see her again.

  ‘The last letter I had from her was written in India, but she and Drew were about to leave for Singapore,’ Jane said. ‘Have you heard anything more recent?’

  ‘No, Mama received a similar letter. According to Teddy, Drew has his eye on trade with the Orient and will very likely buy another ship. If he and Issie were to come home by the time the Season begins, they might sponsor me.’ A statement that proved her come-out was never very far from her thoughts. ‘But I cannot depend upon it.’

  ‘No, better not.’

  They turned back the way they had come, Harry was returned to his nursemaid and Jane ordered tea to be brought to the drawing room. ‘Mark has gone to Norwich,’ she said to explain the absence of her husband. ‘I had hoped he would be back by now, but his business must be taking longer than he thought. I will speak to him, Sophie, I promise you, but do not expect miracles.’

  Half an hour later Sophie set off for home with a light step.

  * * *

  Two days later, Mark and Jane brought Harry to visit his grandparents. There was nothing unusual in this; they were frequent visitors, but Sophie immediately assumed they had come on her behalf and joined them in the drawing room. ‘I am so glad to see you,’ she said, taking Harry from his mother and sitting down with him.

  ‘Naturally, we all are,’ her mother said. ‘But I suspect your enthusiasm has something to do with this idea for having a Season. Am I right?’

  ‘I thought Jane might help.’

  Lady Cavenhurst turned to her eldest daughter. ‘Were you planning to go to London for the Season, Jane?’

  ‘No, Mama, I would not leave Harry or the Hadlea Home for so long, but I gather Teddy has agreed to escort Sophie.’

  ‘I don’t know how she managed to talk him into it,’ her ladyship said. ‘It is not something I would have expected of him.’

  ‘Why not?’ Sophie asked.

  ‘He might find the responsibility tedious. Besides, he is too young. You need someone mature enough to be aware of how a young lady should behave in society and to look out for all the pitfalls that might attend her, of being unknowingly lured into a situation that might reflect badly on her reputation, for instance.’

  ‘I know that and can look out for myself,’ Sophie insisted. ‘And I am sure Teddy knows it, too. Besides, Aunt Emmeline will chaperone me and see I meet the right people, won’t she?’

  ‘What do you think, Jane?’ their mother asked.

  Jane was thoughtful. ‘I really don’t know. Have you spoken to Teddy about it?’

  ‘He has said he will do it, but of course there is the cost of a come-out.’

  ‘Money is not a problem.’ Mark spoke for the first time. ‘I will happily sponsor Sophie, but only if you and Sir Edward agree that she may go.’

  ‘Oh, Mark,’ Sophie said, eyes shining. ‘Would you really?’

  ‘Yes, if your parents say you may.’

  ‘That is more than generous of you, Mark,’ her ladyship said. ‘I suggest you find my husband and see what he says. You will find him in the library. Tell him I have ordered refreshments and would like him to join us.’

  Mark rose and left them.

  ‘Oh, I can’t wait,’ Sophie said, hugging the child on her lap. He squirmed to be put down and she set him on the floor and he crawled rapidly to his mother, who picked him up.

  ‘It is not a foregone conclusion,’ Jane said. ‘There is Aunt Emmeline to consider. She may not be well enough to have you. I recall when we were there she tired easily and she is so very deaf. If she agrees to have you, you must be very mindful of that.’

  A maid brought in the tea tray and set it down on a table at her ladyship’s elbow. She left the room as Sir Edward came in followed by Mark and Teddy, who was in riding coat and buckskin breeches, having just returned from a ride. ‘Excuse me, Mama,’ Teddy said. ‘I’ll go up and change. I won’t be long.’

  ‘Well?’ Sophie asked of her father. ‘May I go?’

  He sighed as he sat on the sofa next to his wife. ‘It seems you have marshalled your forces very well, child. I have been outmanoeuvred.’

  ‘You mean, you agree?’ She jumped up and went over to put her arms about him and kiss his cheek. ‘Oh, thank you, thank you, Papa.’

  He gently disengaged her. ‘It is Mark you should thank. He tells me he has to go to London on business next month and will take you and Teddy in his carriage and see you safely to Lady Cartrose’s house. After that it will be up to your aunt and your brother to see you come to no harm.’

  She turned to Mark. ‘Oh, you are the kindest, most generous of brothers-in-law. If I could find a husband like you, I should be well content.’

  ‘Sophie!’ admonished her ladyship.

  Mark laughed to cover his embarrassment. ‘You will find the right man for you,’ he said. ‘Do not be too impatient.’

  Teddy came back into the room, dressed more fittingly for a drawing room in a single-breasted tailcoat and light-coloured pantaloon trousers. ‘Is it decided?’ he asked, looking round the company.

  ‘Yes,’ his father said. ‘Provided you know what is expected of you.’

  He found a seat and accepted a cup of tea from his mother. ‘Look after my little sister and see she don’t get into any mischief.’

  ‘Precisely. And keep out of mischief yourself. No gambling.’

  ‘What, none at all? That’s a bit hard on a fellow, ain’t it?’

  ‘In a social situation, it is permissible,’ his father said. ‘With counters or low stakes, and only if Sophie is being chaperoned by her aunt at the time. But no gambling hells.’

  ‘Of course, that is what I meant.’

  ‘Then, if Lady Cartrose agrees, you may take your sister to London at the convenience of Mark. Bessie will go with you.’ Bessie Sadler was her mother’s maid. She had been with the family many years, but was close to retirement and had been training a young successor. Apart from the family, no one knew Sophie better than she did and she would spot trouble before Aunt Emmeline or Teddy.

  Sophie, always effusive, be it through happiness or misery, jumped up and ran to everyone to thank them. She was so happy, she had them all smiling, too. After that, they moved on to how the Hadlea Home for orphans was growing and, as always, was in need of more funds. It was one of Jane’s main tasks to secure those. Mark, with his standing and influential connections, was a great help to her in that and it was the reason he was going to town. He was in the course of arranging a concert to raise funds, an idea borrowed from the Foundling Hospital where they had been doing it for years.

  * * *

  Lady Cavenhurst wrote to Lady Cartrose and a reply soon arrived, saying her ladyship would be delighted to have Teddy and Sophie to stay. She did not often go out and about herself, but would undertake to introduce Sophie to friends who might invite her to join them for outings, if that would suffice. Sophie agreed that it would and her ladyship’s offer was accepted.

  * * *

  It was a month before they were to go and Sophie passed the time impatiently dreaming of what she would do, the outings and balls she would attend, the beaux she would meet and planning what she would take in the
way of clothes. She was not short of garments, but when she came to review her wardrobe was cast down to think nothing was good enough for a come-out Season when it was absolutely essential she look her best at all times. Her day dresses were perfectly adequate for Norfolk but, in her view, useless for town and would do nothing but let the ton know that she was a country bumpkin. She did have one very fine gown that she had worn at Jane and Issie’s double wedding and an afternoon dress of blue crepe decorated with pale-blue-and-white embroidery that she had worn for Harry’s christening, but that was all. It was nowhere near enough.

  Fortunately her sister came to her rescue before she could summon the courage to approach her papa with yet another request. ‘Mark is so generous,’ Jane told her one day when Sophie had walked over to Broadacres to bemoan the lack. ‘He is constantly encouraging me to buy new clothes. I have a wardrobe full of garments I shall never wear again. We can alter some to fit you and bring them right up to date.’

  This was the next best thing to having a new wardrobe and they were soon busy with scissors, needle and thread, lace, ribbons and silk flowers. Jane was an expert needlewoman, and as one gown after another was transformed, Sophie lost her regret that she was not to have a completely new wardrobe. No one could possibly know they were not made especially for her and in the latest styles, too. Shoes, boots and slippers would have to be bought because Jane’s feet were larger than Sophie’s, but Sir Edward, thankful that his expenses would be no more than providing her with a little pin money, agreed to pay for those.

  ‘I have a little present for you,’ Jane said as if a wardrobe fit for a queen were not enough. ‘Wear this with your blue gown.’ She handed Sophie a small box. It contained a silver necklace studded with sapphires and diamonds. ‘It is just the right colour for it.’

  ‘Jane! It’s lovely, but should you really be giving it to me if Mark bought it for you?’

  ‘It was his idea, Sophie. When he saw the material I was working on, he said it would be just the thing. I have so much jewellery I can easily spare it.’

  Sophie flung her arms around her sister. ‘Oh, that is so like Mark. Tell him thank you from me. I shall be the belle of the ball, thanks to you both.’

  ‘I hope you may but, Sophie, I must caution you to behave with decorum while you are with Aunt Emmeline. Too much pride will not help your cause. On the other hand, do not be too submissive. Remember you are a Cavenhurst.’

  ‘Oh, I will, dearest Jane.’

  * * *

  It was a very happy Sophie who said goodbye to her parents and Jane one morning at the end of May and climbed into Mark’s travelling coach. She was on her way at last. The only disappointing thing was the weather. It had turned bitterly cold and she had perforce to wear a warm coat over her new carriage dress and a fur muff to keep her hands warm, while her feet were set upon a hot brick wrapped in flannel.

  The journey took two full days, but as the carriage was a very comfortable one and new horses had been ordered for the frequent stops along the way, where Mark also procured more hot bricks, the time passed agreeably.

  They arrived in London in the evening of the second day, having spent the previous night at the Cross Keys in Saffron Walden. There were flags flying from all the public buildings and from some private houses, too, in honour of the birth of a princess to the Duchess of Kent on the twenty-fourth of May. In Sophie’s view that augured well for her visit. The city would be en fête. Mark sent his coachman on to his town house in South Audley Street and accompanied them into Lady Cartrose’s Mount Street home.

  Her ladyship, rounder than ever and deafer than ever, greeted them warmly. ‘Welcome, child,’ she said, taking both Sophie’s hands and holding her at arm’s length to regard her from top to toe. ‘My, you are a pretty one. We shall have no trouble firing you off.’

  Sophie giggled. ‘That sounds painful.’

  She was obliged to repeat what she had said twice more before it was heard, and by then the repartee had lost its wit.

  Emmeline turned to Teddy and subjected him to the same scrutiny. ‘I cannot remember the last time I saw you, young man. It must have been at your sisters’ weddings. What a happy occasion that was, to be sure. You are not affianced yet?’

  ‘No, Aunt.’

  ‘We shall have to see what we can do. I have many friends with beautiful daughters.’

  ‘I am not in town to find a bride, but to escort my sister,’ Teddy said, shouting into her ear.

  ‘Pshaw.’ She turned to Mark. ‘My lord, you are very welcome. How is my dear Jane? And little Harry? One day perhaps I shall have the pleasure of making his acquaintance. You will stay for supper, won’t you? Then you can tell me all about him.’

  Mark declined supper, but agreed to take tea and spent most of the time answering her ladyship’s questions about Jane and their son. Sophie was impatient to know what they would be doing while she was in London and, in a break in the conversation, ventured, ‘What have you planned for tomorrow, Aunt Emmeline?’

  ‘I thought you might be a little tired after your journey, so have arranged nothing of import,’ her aunt replied. ‘A carriage ride in Hyde Park in the afternoon if you should care for it, provided it is not too cold, and supper at home.’

  Sophie, who had expected a round of social engagements to begin as soon as she arrived, was cast down by this. It sounded as boring as being at home. Mark smiled at her. ‘Never mind, Sophie, you will be all the more ready to spring yourself upon the London scene the day after when you are fully rested. I have no doubt you will take the capital by storm.’

  ‘Storm,’ her ladyship repeated. ‘Oh, do not say there is to be a storm. We cannot go out in wet weather, it brings on my rheumatism.’

  Mark patiently explained to the lady what he had meant while Teddy and Sophie tried not to laugh.

  ‘Oh, I understand,’ the old lady said. ‘I did not perfectly hear you. To be sure Sophie will shine. My friend Mrs Malthouse has a daughter of Sophie’s age. Cassandra is a dear, sweet girl and is coming out this year, too. I am sure you will be great friends. She is to have a come-out ball later in the Season and I have no doubt you will be invited. In the meantime there is to be a dancing party at the Rowlands’ next week, which is a suitable occasion for a young lady not yet out to practise her steps and no doubt Augusta will procure an invitation for you if I ask her.’

  This sounded more like it, and Sophie thanked her aunt prettily and began mentally deciding what she would wear.

  At this point, having agreed to dine with them the following evening, Mark took his leave, and as the evening was yet young, Teddy decided he would go out. Left to the company of her aunt and Margaret Lister, her aunt’s companion, Sophie decided to write to her parents and Jane, as she had promised, to tell them of her safe arrival. After that she went to bed to dream of the pleasures to come.

  * * *

  A few years before, the arrival of Adam Trent, Viscount Kimberley, in town would have caused a stir among the young single ladies of society and some married ones, too. He had been reputed to be the most handsome, the most well set-up young man to grace the clubs and drawing rooms of the capital for many a year. His arrival had sent all the debutantes’ mamas into a twitter of anxiety and rivalry and their daughters sighing after him and dreaming of being the one finally to catch him.

  ‘Twenty-eight and still single. How have you managed to resist wedlock so long?’ his cousin Mark had asked him.

  ‘Easily. I have never met the woman I would want to spend the rest of my days with and, besides, I’m too busy.’ At that time he had recently inherited his father’s title and estate at Saddleworth in Yorkshire, which had undoubtedly enhanced his attraction.

  Then he had done the unpardonable thing in the eyes of the ton and married Anne Bamford, the daughter of a Saddleworth mill owner. Whether it was a love match or done to enhance h
is own wealth no one could be sure, but after that no one had much to say for him, thinking of him only as the one that got away.

  His father-in-law had died soon after the wedding, leaving him in possession of Bamford Mill, and in the following year tragically his wife had died in childbirth along with his baby son, and he was once again single. To try to overcome his loss, he had thrown himself into his work, both at the mill and on his estate, which was considerable. He was rarely seen in London.

  On this evening, he was striding down South Audley Street towards Piccadilly when he encountered his cousin. ‘Mark, by all that’s wonderful! Fancy meeting you.’

  Mark, who had been negotiating a muddy puddle, looked up at the sound of his name. ‘Adam, good heavens! What are you doing in town?’

  ‘Urgent business or I would not have bothered.’

  ‘I was sorry to hear of your wife’s passing.’

  ‘Yes, a very sad time. The only way I could go on was to throw myself into work.’ This was a gross understatement of how he had felt, but he was not one to display emotion. It was easier to pretend he did not feel at all.

  ‘All work and no play is not good, you know. And you are no longer in mourning.’

  ‘Mourning is not something you can put a time limit on, Mark.’

  ‘No, of course not, clumsy of me. I beg your pardon.’

  ‘Granted. I was on my way to White’s. Do you care to join me?’

  Mark agreed and they were soon seated over supper in that well-known establishment. ‘How is married life?’ Adam asked his cousin. ‘I am sorry I could not attend your wedding, but at the time I had only recently taken over the running of Bamford Mill and there was a great deal of resentment that had to be overcome. There was, and is, much unrest and I needed to persuade my people not to join the Blanketeers’ march.’

  The march to London from the industrial north, which had been organised by the Lancashire weavers two years before, had been for the purpose of petitioning the Prince Regent over the desperate state of the textile industry and to protest over the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act, which meant any so-called troublemakers could be imprisoned without charge. They had carried blankets, not only as a sign of their trade, but because they expected to be several days on the march. It had been broken up by the militia and its leaders imprisoned. None of the marchers had reached his goal and the petition was never presented.