Enamored with
the Bluestocking

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Prologue

“Why must we have a bluestocking for a daughter?”

Sarah blinked rapidly, doing her best to push her tears back. She had been sitting in her favorite place in the house – in the library – engrossed in a book on the latest discoveries of certain birds on the continent only for her mother and father to come into the room. No doubt they had been looking for her but, given that she was seated in the window seat with the curtain drawn so as to hide her away all the more, they did not know her to be present.

“She is very plain, my dear.” Lady Harcastle replied, making Sarah’s eyes squeeze shut such was the pain now rifling through her. “And she is the youngest of our five, so there has been some neglect there on my part.”

Lord Harcastle sighed so heavily, it seemed to fill the room. “All the same, my dear, there must be something we can do. I cannot accept – I will not accept – that one of my children remains unwed.”



“I do not want a spinster for a daughter as much as you,” came the reply, “but we have permitted her to read as freely as she wishes for a very long time. I confess that I did not ever think her to be a bluestocking, presuming only that she read either foolish novels or of matters pertaining to a lady’s etiquette, but now I learn that she is well versed in all manner of things! Last evening’s dinner was a complete embarrassment for us all.”

Sarah closed her eyes tightly, putting one hand to her mouth. Last evening, her father had brought a gentleman by the name of Lord Johnston to their estate for dinner. He had apparently become acquainted with the fellow some months ago on a business matter and Sarah had thought nothing of it, until she saw her mother’s sharp glances towards her, the nods of the head in the direction of the gentleman and the occasional widening of the eyes when Sarah had said something that was, by her mother’s standards, entirely unnecessary. Slowly, she had come to understand that her parents had hoped for a match to be made between them, that there would be an interest in her on the part of the gentleman but, evidently, her conversation had put an end to those hopes. Sarah had not thought there was anything wrong in what she had spoken of, sharing her thoughts on various matters of present considerations within society and out of it, speaking of her interest in all matters as regarded animals and the newly discovered species abroad… but evidently, this had turned Lord Johnston away from her.

“Will you take her to London this Season, as you had thought?” Lord Harcastle’s voice was low, filled with concern. “My dear, she could bring all the more embarrassment to us if she speaks as she did last evening. Perhaps it would be better if I made an arrangement, found someone who would be willing to marry her despite her bluestocking tendencies.”

No, please! Sarah’s heart began to pound, waiting for judgement to fall. Her mother would either agree to do as he had suggested or would agree to take Sarah to London for the Season – her second Season – as had been previously stated. The silence was overpowering her, bringing great fear to her heart as she waited, her body beginning to tremble. As the youngest of four daughters and one son, Sarah had been waiting for her time to make her presence known amongst society and was yet to be given that moment. Yes, she had made her debut last Season but her elder sister, Martha, had been also seeking a match and her engagement to Lord Thurstwick had overshadowed Sarah’s Season. She had spent more time reading and being in her own company than she had been in society, having been somewhat neglected by her mother who had done all she could to make sure that Martha’s match had been made certain. Sarah had told herself repeatedly that she did not mind such a thing, that it was important for Martha to have a secure future and that her time would come… though now, it seemed, it might still be snatched from her.

“I will speak with her.” Lady Harcastle sounded almost sorrowful, as though Sarah’s interest in expanding her mind was a great source of pain. “I will make it clear that this reading, this constant thought of pursuing yet more knowledge must come to an end. If she agrees, then I will take her to London and the Season will commence. If she does not, then we will simply find her a match.”

“A wise consideration, my dear.” Lord Harcastle cleared his throat gently. “I am aware that Lord Whitefield is looking for a bride.”

Shock ricocheted around Sarah’s heart, making her gasp for air. Lord Whitefield was a gentleman close to her father in age, known for his dark moods, ill temper and general unkind disposition. Surely they would not do such a thing as marry her to that fellow! Sarah well understood that her parents wished for all of their children to marry but they would not really marry her to a gentleman such as Lord Whitefield merely to make certain what they intended came to pass, would they?

“That could be a potential match, yes.”

Sarah shuddered. Yes, they would.

“I will speak to her first before any decision is made, however,” her mother continued, as Lord Harcastle harrumphed, clearly relieved that some sort of decision had been made. “Though we must find her first!”

They soon quit the room to go in search of her and, the moment the door closed behind them, Sarah let out a sob that she had been fighting to hold back. The door to her emotions was loosened and she broke down completely, burying her face in her hands as she cried.

How injurious her parents had been to her! To believe that her desire to read more, to learn all she could was something to be ashamed about, to call it a mortification made Sarah’s heart cry out with sorrow. And this was to be taken away from her if she was to go back to society? If she was to have her Season, then she would have to give up that thing that she loved the most – her books. Could she do it? Could she promise she would not read any longer? Pretend that she was not as learned as she truly was simply so that a gentleman’s ego would not be damaged in any way? Sarah wiped her eyes, feeling herself more sorrowful.

What else is there to induce a gentleman’s interest? she asked herself, her heart tearing. I am a bluestocking, it seems, and have not even beautiful features to attract anyone to me. Yes, she knew that she was not the most beautiful of the sisters but to have been called plain made her feel as though she was not even worth looking at.

But if I refuse to give up my reading, then I will be forced to marry Lord Whitefield.

The thought of such a thing made her shudder violently as she put her head back and rested it against the wall behind her. Tears still came to her eyes but they were not as fervent as before. Swallowing hard, she took in a deep breath.

I will not give up my books, she told herself, firmly. But mayhap I will not have to. I have overheard my parents speaking, I know what it is that they are going to demand from me and I can agree to it while refusing to do what it is that they ask. She took in another breath, feeling herself a little more at ease. I will pretend to give it all up while keeping all that I love close to my heart, she told herself, firmly. Somehow, I will find a way. I must.



Chapter One

“Sarah? I wish to speak with you before we step out into society.”

Sarah, who had only just finished her preparations for her first ball of the Season, turned to look back at her mother. “Good evening, Mama,” she said, calmly, all too aware of what this conversation was to be. “I am quite ready, as you see. We shall not be tardy, if that is your concern.”

“No, that is not my concern,” her mother answered, a little sharply. “My goodness, Sarah, is that what you are to wear about your neck? Do you not think that a string of pearls might do better than a single diamond pendant?”

Sarah kept her chin lifted and her gaze steady, aware of her mother’s seeming need to be critical of something, regardless of what it was. “I am contented with this, Mama.”

Her mother clicked her tongue in disapproval. “No, I think the pearls will do much better. Here, now, go and fetch the pearls and replace this pendant at once.”

Sarah turned to her maid. “No, the pendant will do quite well,” she said, speaking over her mother’s order. “You can retire now.”

Lady Harcastle threw up her hands as the maid glanced from one to the other, clearly uncertain as to whom she ought to listen to. “Whatever is the matter with you, Sarah? I am doing my best for you and –”

“I am still able to make my own choices, Mama,” Sarah answered, aware that she had interrupted but continuing on regardless. “I have already given up a great deal, though you may not think it. I should like to have a modicum of independence, if I can.”

Lady Harcastle sighed, shook her head and then dismissed the maid with a wave of her hand. “Very well. Now, the reason I have come to speak with you is as regards your conduct this evening.”

Sarah said nothing but merely lifted an eyebrow.

“You are not to speak of anything that a young lady would not know of otherwise. I am well aware that you have done a good deal of reading of late and that you consider yourself a little more learned than the other young ladies but that is not something that you are to promote. Indeed, no-one else is to know of it, particularly not the gentlemen that you are in company with. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mama.” The desire to argue, to throw back a harsh response to her mother’s demands grew heavy on Sarah’s tongue but she kept it back with an effort. There would be little point in arguing. After what she had overheard that day in the library, Sarah had decided to simply agree to all that her parents asked of her – to a point, of course – while, at the same time, disobeying them completely. The books that her mother had demanded she give up had all been left at the Harcastle estate but Sarah had every intention of getting her hands on yet more books where she could. It was unfortunate that her mother had insisted on having the library here at the London townhouse locked but it had not deterred Sarah in the least. Somehow, she would find a way back to her passion for learning regardless of what her mother or father knew.

“If a gentleman asks you what interest you have, what shall you say?”

I shall tell them that I have found the nesting habits of various seabirds to be of great interest of late, Sarah thought to herself, her lips twitching as she dropped her gaze. “I enjoy painting and playing the pianoforte. I do not enjoy embroidery, though I suppose I am meant to, being a young lady of quality.” She lifted her gaze back to her mother, seeing the slight narrowing of Lady Harcastle’s eyes. Clearly, her mother was uncertain as to whether or not Sarah was entirely serious in this.

“You can refrain from the latter,” her mother said firmly, clearly making certain that Sarah understood her entirely. “I do not understand why you think to jest with me when there is clearly so much at stake here! You have much to do and much to gain, might I remind you? This is your only chance to –”

“My only chance to gain a husband, yes, I know,” Sarah interrupted, now a little more frustrated with her mother’s sharp words and hard manner. “You have made this all very clear to me, Mama, and I fully understand what it is you expect.”

Her mother’s gaze grew a little more icy. “And do you understand what will happen if you determine to go against what your father and I have dictated? What will happen if you stray from the agreements you have made?”

Sarah held her mother’s gaze without blinking, her heart beating a little more quickly as she spoke the words she knew her mother wanted to hear but which she herself did not really mean. “Mama, I know that I must not speak of my learning, I must not talk about my love of reading and must not seek out any books with which to continue on with my passion. I understand that the gentlemen of London must not have even the smallest awareness that I am a bluestocking, they must not know that I have an interest in such things and I am to hide my character completely. Instead, I must alter myself so that I am nothing more than I ought to be. I will be the entirely proper young lady who must speak only of the pianoforte, of her interest in painting and nothing more. As well as this, I must speak to the gentlemen of their desires, hearing of their interests rather than my own and must never fall into any sort of discussion with any of the gentlemen I become acquainted with. My main responsibility is only to listen to the gentlemen I speak to, in the hope that by doing so, they will find me all that they expect of a young lady.”

The edge of her mother’s lip curled for a moment but then flattened again, making Sarah aware that her mother was uncertain as to how to respond. Either she was unsure as to whether or not Sarah was speaking the truth in genuine acceptance or if she was speaking with a hint of irony.

Sarah did not give her more time to consider. “Shall we depart, Mama? We will be tardy otherwise and I know you will not wish to be so. It would make a very bad impression.”

“Yes, I suppose it would,” came the reply, as her mother, with another sharp look, finally turned towards the door. “And do not put a foot – or even a word – wrong, Sarah. You are to be a bluestocking no longer.”

 

***

 

“Good evening, Lady Sarah.”

Sarah chuckled as she inclined her head, smiling at her friend. “My dear Catherine, I do not think that you need to call me Lady Sarah, since last Season we were not referring to each other in such a way!”

Lady Catherine immediately smiled, her eyes warm. “I am glad to hear it! I wanted to be cautious, since it has been some time since we were in one another’s company.”

Sarah sighed and, turning, began to walk alongside Lady Catherine as they both dutifully followed after their mothers. “Indeed it has. I have been residing at home and did not come to London for even the little Season, much to my chagrin. My mother declared that she was quite worn out after Martha’s wedding and thus, we had to rest for some months.”

Lady Catherine’s eyebrows lifted at Sarah’s tone, and Sarah offered her a wry smile.

“You know very well that it was not because of the gentlemen here in London that I thought to escape,” she laughed as Lady Catherine grinned. “You know, I am sure, that I wanted nothing more than to get to the bookshops and to the great London Library.”

“Indeed, I was certain that was what you were thinking of,” came the reply. “But you will be glad to be in London again now, yes?”

At this, Sarah’s stomach twisted and she shook her head. “I am afraid not. My mother and father have only recently discovered my love of reading and the great learning which has come with it and, subsequently, they have decided that they are mortified to hear of such a thing and have demanded that I do not pick up another book during my time here in London… if ever again!”

“Truly?” Lady Catherine’s eyes were wide with astonishment. “Why ever should they say such a thing?”

Recalling what she had overheard, Sarah dropped her gaze, a knot in her throat which still came to her every time she considered it. “I believe their words were that they did not want to have a bluestocking for a daughter. No gentleman will ever consider me, they have said, so thus, I must come to London and pretend that I am vapid and even a little insipid so as to gain what they think is the most profitable.” The words were like ash on her tongue and she scowled as she spoke, feeling the kick of pain in her heart all over again.

“That is astonishing!” Lady Catherine exclaimed. “Surely you have not agreed to it?”

Sarah looked back at her friend. “If I had not, then my father would have arranged a match for me. That might not have been a particularly bad outcome, were it not for the fact that the gentleman he was considering was dreadful, both in terms of his age and his character.”

Lady Catherine caught her breath and Sarah nodded slowly, confirming that this was true.

“It was a true threat, though I was not meant to have overheard it,” she explained, quickly. “Therefore, I resolved that I would accept what my mother put to me and I would give up my books and my learning… while still refusing to give up my books and my learning.”

Her friend frowned. “And how are you to go about that?”

“Very carefully,” Sarah answered, with a small smile. “I hoped that, mayhap, our friendship might be one of the ways in which I can continue on in my reading?”

“Of course!” Lady Catherine exclaimed. “We could walk in town together and I could insist upon stepping into a bookshop and you, given your kindness, would have no choice but to come with me. Thereafter, if you found a book which you wished to purchase, I could keep it with me and when you come to take tea, for example, you could spend some time reading it there.”

A sense of relief settled upon Sarah immediately. “Precisely what I was hoping for,” she said, seeing her friend’s eyes light up. “I do appreciate you, Catherine. You and I share an interest in reading and I am grateful for your support in this.”

“I am horrified that you have been forced into this, I must say,” Lady Catherine answered, slipping one arm through Sarah’s. “What will you do as regards the gentlemen of London? Will you truly pretend to be nothing more than a foolish young lady who knows very little aside from how to embroider and which fashion plate is the most popular?”

Sarah winced. “I do not know what I shall do,” she said, honestly. “I had not really considered that, as yet. I must do what my mother has stated, of course, for the consequences of refusing would be severe but at the same time, I cannot imagine what it would be like to either be courted by or even married to a gentleman who did not truly know who I was! That is what my mother wishes for me to do and my own heart has turned away from that idea in the strongest manner – but what else is there for me to do?”

Her friend’s lips pulled to one side as she thought and Sarah waited hopefully, eager to hear what wisdom it was Lady Catherine had to offer. She had spent the past few weeks fretting over her mother’s insistence that she must marry, fully aware that she could not feign frivolity throughout her Season, courtship, and eventually, her married life. However, what other option did she have? She could not disobey her mother for fear of what consequences would follow but neither could she pretend to any gentleman truly interested in her that she was unintelligent and did not vastly enjoy delving into books!

Her hopes were dashed as Lady Catherine shook her head and sighed.

“I cannot offer you any advice, I am afraid,” she answered as Sarah’s shoulders dropped a little. “It is a very difficult situation, I must say.”

“It is,” Sarah agreed, heavily, “and I do not know how I am to escape from it. I – oh!”

This exclamation came from her lips as something heavy fell on her foot, followed by a figure knocking back into her. With another cry, Sarah fell back, caught by Lady Catherine who then held onto her tightly, helping her not to collapse to the floor.

“Whatever are you doing?”

 A dark, angry voice rang around Sarah’s mind as she fought to try and regain her composure. Her foot was aching, embarrassment burning through her as she tried to stand but found she could not.

“What did you do, Sarah?”

 Sarah tried to answer her mother who had rounded on her as though this was her doing but she could not, such was the intensity of the pain which was now creeping up her leg.

“Sarah did nothing wrong! It was this oaf who barreled into her and caused her some injury of some sort.” Lady Catherine was immediately at Sarah’s defense, speaking boldly despite being surrounded by a great crowd of gentlemen and ladies, many of whom started to show an interest in what was going on.

“It is nothing,” Sarah tried to say, though this was followed by another exclamation as she tried to set her foot down on the floor.

“Good gracious!” Her mother, now perhaps realizing Sarah was not at fault and was, in fact, truly injured, came to clasp Sarah’s other arm so that she was supported on both sides. “Might I ask what it is you think you are doing in injuring my daughter in this manner?”

The gentleman scowled, his dark green eyes narrowed, a shock of fair hair falling over his forehead. “I did nothing to injure your daughter, ma’am. It was her own foolish fault, getting in my way as she did.”

You stepped back without looking where you were going or what you were doing!” Lady Catherine cried as Sarah, still struggling with the pain, managed to nod. “In doing so, you have clearly stepped very heavily back upon this lady’s foot and have injured her to the point that she is unable to stand.”

“It is just as Lady Catherine says.”

Sarah turned her gaze to another young lady, seeing her narrow her eyes at the gentleman.

“Both my mother and I were witness to it,” she continued, as the lady next to her – the one Sarah presumed to be the lady’s mother – nodded. “This young lady – ”

“Lady Sarah, daughter to the Earl of Harcastle,” Sarah’s mother put in, as the young lady continued.

“This young lady, Lady Sarah, was injured solely because of your inconsideration and foolishness.”

“And then you have the audacity to attempt to blame her for it?” the older lady added, her voice filled with an authority which appeared to set the gentleman back given the way the scowl began to lift from his face. “She did nothing wrong! All she was doing was walking through the ballroom with her friend and you were the one who behaved with idiocy and thoughtlessness. Might I suggest that you take a moment and, thereafter, apologise? Mayhap you might also assist the young lady to a chair? It is clear that your heavy foot has caused her to be unable to even walk at this moment!”

Sarah closed her eyes, her face suffused with heat. “I – I am sure that I do not need any assistance though I am grateful for your concern.” She tried then to put her foot down, only to stifle yet another cry as more pain shot through her ankle.

“You see?” her mother cried, only for the gentleman to step forward.

“Of course. Permit me, if you please.”

Before Sarah could protest, before she could even say a single word, the gentleman had swept her up in his arms and, with her skirts draped over his arm, he carried her bodily to the back of the ballroom. She dared not look at him, however, finding herself utterly mortified that she was being treated in such a way – and that he felt the need to do so.

“I did not mean to hurt you,” he muttered, his great strides eating up the floor as gentlemen and ladies stepped out of their way, astonishment written on every face. “Might I enquire as to your name?”

Sarah forced herself to glance at him. “Did you not hear it?”

The gentleman shook his head, his fair hair sweeping close to his eyes, his square jaw set and rather tight.

“Oh.” Seeing now that he was doing this so that he would not be berated by anyone or bring any stain upon his reputation, Sarah swallowed tightly. “Lady Sarah. Daughter to the Earl of Harcastle.”

“I see.” He waited for a moment as the footmen opened the door that led out to the hallway. “A private parlour, if you please. The lady has injured herself.”

 The footman nodded and led him forward and the gentleman continued on effortlessly, as though she weighed very little.

“Might… might I ask as to your name?”

The gentleman glanced at her but there was no warmth in his eyes. Instead, there was a flicker in his eyes which spoke of irritation, perhaps of anger and Sarah shrank back within herself.

“The Marquess of Downfield,” he stated, though he quickly looked away from her again. “Here now. Let me set you down upon this couch and then I shall send the footmen to assist you.”

Sarah was a little surprised at how gently the gentleman let her rest on the couch, though as he set her down, the scent of cinnamon and sweet pine brushed across her senses, making her stomach kick suddenly. She looked away, smoothing her skirts as quickly as she could though her mother was present beside her in a moment.

“I will take the situation in hand from here,” Lady Harcastle stated, barely glancing at the gentleman. “Thank you for your assistance, though I do hope you will be a good deal more cautious in the future.”

Closing her eyes briefly – though silently reminding herself that she did not need to feel any sort of embarrassment given that the gentleman was responsible for what had taken place – Sarah heard him cough quietly as though to rid himself of whatever his first response was to have been.

“But of course. Do excuse me.”

He left then without another word, leaving Sarah, her mother and a concerned looking Lady Catherine together in the room.

“Mama has gone to send a footman for the doctor,” Lady Catherine told her, turning her head to glance after the gentleman though he quit the room without so much as a backwards look towards her. “I do hope that he apologised profusely to you for what he did and for the blame which he then tried to place upon you?”

“I – ” Sarah stopped dead, frowning as she realized that the gentleman had not said a single word of apology to her. “Now that I think of it, I do not think that he did.”

“What arrogance!” Lady Harcastle exclaimed, coming to pull a small stool forward so that Sarah could turn and set her injured ankle upon it. “I would have thought that any decent gentleman might have apologised for such an action.”

“He did say that he had not meant to hurt me.”

“But that is no apology!” her mother exclaimed, as Lady Catherine nodded fervently. “It is a dreadful thing he has done for now you shall not be able to dance or perhaps even walk for a time! You will not be able to attend balls or soirees and will have to rest at home, I am sure of it!”

Sarah blinked, letting her gaze turn to Lady Catherine who, after a moment, let her lips twitch. “That is a great pity, Mama,” Sarah murmured, now aware that Lady Catherine knew precisely what she was thinking. “But I am sure that in time, I will recover.”

“I will call upon you very often in that time,” Lady Catherine promised, a slight gleam in her eye. “Tomorrow, certainly! I will bring you some things to cheer your spirits as you wait to recover.”

“I thank you,” Sarah answered, wincing as her foot was stretched out carefully by her mother so that it now rested on the stool. All the same, she considered, despite the pain in her ankle, there was now the sudden hope that she would be given the chance to read and that Lady Catherine would provide her with the means to do so. Perhaps this gentleman, despite his foolishness, had given her some happiness for if she could read again, even for a time, then that was a most excellent thing!





Chapter Two

Foolish girl.

Matthew flicked one hand towards the footman standing nearby. “Another.”

The footman obliged at once, stepping away to fetch a second brandy, though Matthew was quickly joined by not one but three of his grinning friends.

“Lord Dover, Lord Stephenson?” Matthew narrowed his eyes in jest as he looked to his third – and closest – friend. “Lord Rutherford. Is there something that I can do for you all?”

“You did leave the ball rather quickly,” Lord Stephenson said, as the other two nodded. “We presumed that you must be a little ill at ease after what happened and we thought to come and make certain that all was quite well.”

“Given that I have only come to the card room, I hardly think that this could be considered leaving the ball.”

“You have not come back to our conversation, however,” Lord Dover put in. “Nor have you sought to dance with anyone. That is considered leaving, I think?”

Lord Rutherford threw up his hands. “It was an accident, old boy! You need not step away from the joviality of the ball – and all the very fine ladies who wish for your company – because of one young lady.”

Matthew scowled. “I did not appreciate being berated in front of the other guests.”

His friends all glanced at each other and Matthew’s scowl deepened.

“You think that I brought that upon myself, I suppose,” he grated. “I am sure that the lady in question was quite foolish, that she knocked into me or some such thing. Thereafter, I lost my footing and that is why she is injured.”

“No doubt,” Lord Stephenson said, in a tone which told Matthew that he did not believe him. “But all the same, you did as was told of you and though that must have been a little frustrating, it is done and the lady is being cared for.”

“I did not apologise,” Matthew told him, seeing Lord Rutherford’s eyebrows lift. “I made certain to say that I did not mean to injure her and –”

“Then you shall have to call tomorrow.”

Matthew blinked, his eyebrows now falling low over his eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

James, the Earl of Rutherford, had been Matthew’s friend for as long as Matthew could remember. They had played together as children, had gone to Eton together and he could always rely on him in every situation. He was also known for being rather blunt, for speaking just as he saw things and though it was a quality that Matthew appreciated,  it was, mayhap, not something that he wished to hear at the present moment.

It appeared he was going to be given Lord Rutherford’s thoughts regardless, however.

“You wish to blame the lady and whether you are determined to believe yourself quite without fault, you must still, as a gentleman, go to apologise. It is expected and you should certainly do such a thing, if you do not want your reputation to be damaged.”

Lord Dover and Lord Stephenson glanced at each other but said nothing, leaving Matthew’s frustration to grow. Evidently, they agreed with Lord Rutherford, else they would have said outright. It seemed that he was outnumbered.

“I have no desire to go and speak with the lady,” he grumbled, recalling how he had pulled her into his arms and seen her hazel eyes widen in shock, her face white. He had felt not a single iota of sympathy nor of desire. “It will be a waste of my time and I have already made plans to go and call upon a few various young ladies of society.”

Lord Dover snorted. “No doubt to try and ascertain their interest in you rather than having any real interest in them themselves, yes?”

Matthew shrugged, having no inclination to hide such a thing from his friends given that they all knew him so well. “I am already interested to know which young ladies hope for more of my attentions. That does not mean that I am eager to give them, of course! It is only because I find myself… drawn to that notion.”

Lord Stephenson rolled his eyes. “You simply like knowing that there are many young ladies – and older ladies – in London who are desperate for your attentions. It pleases you to know that when you walk into a ballroom, a good many eyes are resting upon you. Is that not so?”

Considering this for a moment – and taking no offence at it – Matthew shrugged for the second time and then let himself smile. “That may be the truth but I shall not properly admit to it.” Silently, he acknowledged that everything Lord Stephenson had said was quite true but he would certainly never admit to it. Yes, it did fill him with delight to know that there were so many young ladies who admired him and sought his interest, what was so troublesome about that?

“It will not take you long to call upon the lady and apologise,” Lord Rutherford told him, bringing the subject back to the young lady. “What was her name, now? I might be acquainted with her.”

“Lady Sarah.” Matthew saw his friend nod slowly. “Her father is the Earl of Harcastle.”

Lord Rutherford’s expression cleared. “Ah yes, of course. That gentleman is very wealthy and very influential indeed, I must say. He has a strong mind when it comes to business and I know that many a gentleman has gone to him for advice. It would be wise of you not to set yourself against such a gentleman.”

Matthew snorted. “I have more than enough wealth to keep me satisfied.”

“Be that as it may, it is your reputation I am concerned about. If Lord Harcastle tells anyone that he thinks poorly of you, then I can assure you that society will no longer take such a favorable look.” Lord Rutherford tilted his head and arched one eyebrow. “And as you have just said, you do enjoy being admired.”

“I did not say that… precisely,” Matthew said, somewhat fiercely, though the way his friend grinned took away some of his irritation. “Very well, if I must then I shall go and speak with Lady Sarah and apologise. Tomorrow, of course.”

“And bring flowers,” Lord Dover added, as Lord Rutherford nodded. “That will show that you truly are contrite, even if you are not.”

“Flowers?” Matthew grimaced. “I have not brought flowers to a lady in many a month. I believe that the last time I did so, it was to my mother!”

This made all his friends laugh, though that had not been Matthew’s intention.

“All the more reason for you to do so. It will be good for you to show consideration in that marked way,” Lord Rutherford told him. “And why do you not tell the young lady that it has been so long since you brought flowers to someone? That will make her feel all the more that you are truly apologetic, I am sure.”

Seeing that there was now no way for him to escape this, no way for him to choose not to do as his friends suggested, Matthew let out a long, pronounced sigh but no one made any other remark, no-one expressed sympathy or the like to him. Instead, they began talking of something else, speaking of which young lady they were to dance with next and Matthew slowly sank down in his chair, his expression still dark and his frustration very much present.

There was to be nothing for it, however. He would have no other choice but to call upon Lady Sarah and express his apologies profusely, even though he would not be speaking a single, genuine word. He would have to do it, however, and perhaps then, Matthew considered, he would be able to return to society and all that he enjoyed without giving the lady a further thought.

 

***

 

“Good afternoon, Lady Sarah. I have come to see how you fare this afternoon.” Matthew bowed his head, aware of the ball of impatience which was, at present, rattling around within him. He did not want to be here. He did not want to spend time in this young lady’s company, having no interest in her whatsoever and yet, here he was, bowing and smiling and holding out the bouquet of roses he had purchased for her. “I do hope that my foolishness last evening has not caused you too great a pain?”

Lady Sarah gestured to the maid to take the roses from him, her chestnut curls swinging gently from where they had been pulled to the back of her head. Then she turned her gaze to him, steady as she watched him though as yet, she had not said a single word.

Matthew cleared his throat, his hands clasped behind his back. “I – I suppose that I must also apologise for my behaviour last evening. I was not considerate nor was I careful and I am mortified that you were brought to such pain.”

“It is good to hear that there is some contrition, at least.”

Matthew turned his head, just to see the lady of the house walk into the room, her eyes flashing with evident anger as he bowed to her.

“I confess that I was greatly upset, not only that you injured my daughter but that, thereafter, you did not think to apologise,” Lady Harcastle said, folding her arms over her chest as her eyes narrowed. “I am appreciative that you carried my daughter to a place where she might rest but I do believe that not even a single word of apology was spoken to her? That is something of a disgrace and – ”

“Mama, Lord Downfield has come now to apologise.” Lady Sarah spoke with a firmness to her tone, her words clear and her gaze now fixed to her mother. “I do not think that we need to berate him now.”

Lady Harcastle sniffed and then looked away. “All the same, I – ”

“Might we fetch a tea tray?” Lady Sarah gestured to Matthew, her eyes now turning to him rather than to her mother. “You will stay for a few minutes, I hope? We can make certain that there is no lingering tension, no uncertain feeling between us any longer and all will be well.” Her eyes widened just a fraction, followed by a very swift glance towards her mother and, despite himself, Matthew smiled. The lady was clearly attempting to make it plain to him that her own mother would not be satisfied with a mere apology from him, from only a few minutes standing on her floor. If he wanted to be done with the matter, if he wished for his life to return to the same happiness and freedom as he had been enjoying these last few weeks, then he would be required to take tea and to sit with Lady Sarah and Lady Harcastle for a time.

But there is still Lady Sophia whom I wish to call upon, he reminded himself, clearing his throat as he looked away. And Lady Bettina who is expecting me also.

“A few minutes, of course.” Begrudgingly, he sat down in a chair indicated to him by Lady Harcastle. “I am truly sorry for what took place, Lady Sarah. I should have taken more care.”

“And you should not have blamed my daughter for your own foolishness.”

Matthew hid his grimace with an effort but nodded. “You are quite correct there also, Lady Harcastle. I should not have placed any sort of blame on your daughter. It was entirely my own doing and I am very sorry indeed for the pain which has been caused.”

“It is quite all right. I understand that these things can happen, especially when there is a great crush.” Lady Sarah offered him a small smile though her eyes did not linger on his for more than a brief moment. “Ah, here is the tea now.”

I will pour it, since you cannot,” Lady Harcastle said, the emphasis making Matthew wince. “The doctor says that my daughter will have to rest for a fortnight, Lord Downfield. Two weeks! Two weeks that she shall be out of society!”

Lady Sarah coughed quietly. “That is not quite correct, Mama,” she said, as Lady Harcastle rose to pour the tea. “I am to stay resting for a sennight but thereafter, can attend soirees and balls, just so long as I do not dance or spend too long on my feet.”

Lady Harcastle sniffed. “All the same, it is most inconvenient and dreadfully unfair to a young lady such as yourself who is looking for a match this Season. You have truly done her a disservice by your actions, Lord Downfield. I do hope you realise the extent of it.”

Matthew opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again. Every moment here was agony, his words burning on his lips as he forced them back, determined that he would not speak defensively given that it would, no doubt, cause all the more difficulty for him. It was best simply to endure, he told himself, so that he would not find himself berated all the more.

“Are you in London for the Season, Lord Downfield?” Lady Sarah’s voice was gentle enough but she was still refusing to look at him for any more than a brief moment and for whatever reason, that displeased him.

“Yes, I am. I have been in London for a good many Seasons and I have not tired of them as yet.” That much was true, for Matthew had attended the Season just as soon as he had been able and given that he did not have to make a debut as the young ladies of London did, it had been at a somewhat young age when he had first stepped into society. “I took on the title at only three years ago, however,” he clarified, seeing Lady Harcastle’s brows furrow, “but I was in London for a good many years before that, you understand.”

“And you have still not taken a bride?” Lady Harcastle asked, making Lady Sarah drop her head, her cheeks turning a bright shade of red. “That is a little surprising, is it not? I would have thought that a gentleman with your standing and your title would have been eager to produce the heir.”

“Mama,” Lady Sarah breathed but Lady Harcastle only shrugged, clearly not in the least bit concerned about what it was that either Sarah or Matthew himself thought of her bold question.

“It is not yet the right time,” Matthew answered, stiffly. “For the moment, Lady Harcastle, I am quite contented to attend London and enjoy myself there, with my acquaintances and close friends. It makes for an excellent few months and, given what has been a rather difficult year as regards some of my business matters, it is a good respite.”

Lady Harcastle’s eyebrows lifted but Matthew rose quickly to his feet, having barely taken even a sip of his tea.

“And I shall take my leave of you now, so that you do not become wearied by my presence,” he said, bowing quickly. “Do excuse me, Lady Sarah, Lady Harcastle. I pray, once again, that you would accept my apologies for what happened last evening and for the suffering that you are going through. Good afternoon.”

“I do expect you to call again, Lord Downfield?”

Matthew stopped, turning to see Lady Harcastle now on her feet, her hands at her hips and her eyes sharp as she lifted her chin just a notch.

“You will call again, will you not?”

Despite this being a question, Matthew heard it more as a statement – one that he had no choice but to agree to. He could refuse, of course, he could say that he had no intention of coming back to call upon her again but then, in doing so, he would risk the wrath of Lord Downfield who might wish to tell others about his refusal.

“Indeed, I shall,” he muttered, inclining his head towards the lady who was now looking back at him with rather wide eyes, her hands in her lap though Matthew could see the shock of his words twisting through her expression. “I will call again very soon. Good afternoon, Lady Harcastle.” He bowed and,  with relief crashing over him, stepped out of the room and quickly made his way back along to the front of the house.

The sooner she recovers, the better it shall be for me this Season, he told himself as the door was opened for him and he stepped outside. Goodness, what a dreadful situation! Once I am free of her, I shall return to my happy situation and forget all about Lady Sarah and her injury. That shall be a sweet relief indeed!



Let me know your thoughts!

This Post Has 3 Comments

  1. Katrina L Poitevin Salas

    I really like this so far. I’m intrigued to see what happens next. The only thing I noticed is what looks like a wrong name near the end. Should it be “the wrath of Lord Harcastle”? I’m looking forward to the next installment.

    He could refuse, of course, he could say that he had no intention of coming back to call upon her again but then, in doing so, he would risk the wrath of Lord Downfield who might wish to tell others about his refusal.

  2. Gail

    I don’t think these chapters go with the novel in the email –

  3. Reba

    When will Enamored with a Bluestocking be available?

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