The Convenient Marriage Read online

  ‘How mortifying it is to reflect that Lord Rule may have been amusing himself at the expense of a Winwood!’ said Charlotte.

  But it seemed that Lord Rule had not been amusing himself. At three o’clock he walked up the steps of No. 20 South Street, and inquired for Lady Winwood.

  In spite of her dramatic refusal to face the Earl, Lady Winwood had been induced to await him in the withdrawing-room, fortified by smelling-salts, and a new polonaise with tobine stripes which had arrived from her dressmaker’s just in time to avert a nervous collapse.

  Her interview with his lordship lasted for half an hour, at the end of which time the footman was despatched to inform Miss Horatia that her presence in the withdrawing-room was desired.

  ‘Aha!’ cried Horatia, shooting a wicked glance at Charlotte, and springing to her feet.

  Elizabeth caught her hands. ‘Horry, it is not too late! If this arrangement is repugnant to you, for Heaven’s sake speak, and I will throw myself upon Lord Rule’s generosity!’

  ‘Repugnant? S-stuff!’ said Horatia, and danced out.

  ‘Horry, Horry, at least let me straighten your sash!’ shrieked Charlotte.

  ‘Too late,’ Elizabeth said. She clasped her hands to her breast. ‘If I could be assured that this is no Immolation upon the Altar of Sisterly Love!’

  ‘If you wish to know what I think,’ said Charlotte, ‘Horry is very well pleased with herself.’

  Horatia, opening the door into the withdrawing-room, found her mother actually upon her feet, the smelling-salts lying forgotten on an ormolu table by the fire. In the middle of the room Rule was standing, watching the door, one hand, with a great square sapphire glowing on it, resting on a chair-back.

  He looked very much more magnificent and unapproachable in blue velvet and gold lacing than he had seemed in his riding habit, and for a moment Horatia surveyed him rather doubtfully. Then she saw him smile and was reassured.

  Lady Winwood swam towards her and embraced her. ‘My dearest!’ she said, apparently overcome. ‘My lord, let my treasured child answer you with her own lips. Horatia love, Lord Rule has done you the honour to request your hand in marriage.’

  ‘I t-told you he was going to, M-mama!’ said Horatia incorrigibly.

  ‘Horatia – I beg of you!’ implored the long-suffering lady. ‘Your curtsy, my love!’

  Horatia sank obediently into a curtsy. The Earl took her hand, as she rose, and bowed deeply over it. He said, looking down at her with a laugh in his eyes: ‘Madam, may I keep this little hand?’

  Lady Winwood heaved a tremulous sigh, and wiped away a sympathetic tear with her handkerchief.

  ‘P-pretty!’ approved Horatia. ‘Indeed you m-may, sir. It is very handsome of you to give me the p-pleasure of having you p-propose for me.’

  Lady Winwood looked round apprehensively for her salts, but perceiving that his lordship was laughing, changed her mind. ‘My baby…!’ She said indulgently: ‘As you see, my lord, she is all unspoiled.’

  She did not leave the newly-plighted pair alone, and the Earl presently took his leave with equal correctness. The front door had barely closed behind him before Lady Winwood had clasped Horatia in a fond embrace. ‘Dearest child!’ she said. ‘You are very, very fortunate! So personable a man! Such delicacy!’

  Charlotte put her head round the door. ‘May we come in, Mama? Has he really offered for Horry?’

  Lady Winwood dabbed at her eyes again. ‘He is everything that I could wish for! Such refinement! Such ton!’ Elizabeth had taken Horatia’s hand, but Charlotte said practically: ‘Well, for my part, I think he must be doting. And repulsive as the thought is, I suppose the Settlements…?’

  ‘He is all that is generous!’ sighed Lady Winwood.

  ‘Then I’m sure I wish you joy, Horry,’ said Charlotte. ‘Though I must say that I consider you far too young and heedless to become the wife of any gentleman. And I only pray that Theresa Maulfrey will have enough proper feeling to refrain from chattering about this awkward business.’

  It did not seem at first as though Mrs Maulfrey would be able to hold her tongue. Upon the announcement of the betrothal she came to South Street, just as her cousins knew she would, all agog to hear the whole story. She was palpably dissatisfied with Elizabeth’s careful tale of ‘a mistake’, and demanded to know the truth. Lady Winwood, rising for once to the occasion, announced that the matter had been arranged by herself and his lordship, who had met Horatia and been straightway captivated by her.

  With this Mrs Maulfrey had to be content, and after condoling with Elizabeth on having lost an Earl only to get a lieutenant in exchange, and with Charlotte on being left a spinster while a chit from the schoolroom made the match of the season, she departed, leaving a sense of relief behind her, and a strong odour of violet scent.

  Charlotte opined darkly that no good would come of Horatia’s scandalously contrived marriage.

  But Charlotte was alone in her pessimism. A radiant Mr Heron, fervently grasping both Horatia’s hands, thanked her from the heart, and wished her happiness. Mr Heron had had the honour of meeting Lord Rule at an extremely select soirée in South Street, and his lordship had roused himself to take the young man aside and talk to him of his future. Mr Heron had no hesitation in declaring the Earl to be a very good sort of a man indeed, and no further remarks concerning his reputation or his advanced years were heard to pass his lips. Elizabeth, too, who had been forced to nerve herself to meet her erstwhile suitor, found the ordeal shorn of its terrors. My lord kissed her hand, and as he released it said with his slight, not unpleasing drawl: ‘May I hope, Miss Winwood, that I am no longer an ogre?’

  Elizabeth blushed, and hung her head. ‘Oh – Horry!’ she sighed, a smile trembling on her lips. ‘Indeed, my lord, you were never that.’

  ‘But I owe you an apology, ma’am,’ he said solemnly, ‘for I made you “dreadfully unhappy”.’

  ‘If we are to talk of apologies, sir – ! You, who have been all kindness!’ She lifted her eyes to his face, and tried to thank him for what he would do for Mr Heron.

  Apparently he did not choose to be thanked; he put it aside with his lazy laugh, and somehow she could not go on. He stayed by her for a few minutes, and she had leisure to observe him. Later she told Mr Heron seriously that she thought Horry might be very happy.

  ‘Horry is happy,’ replied Mr Heron, with a chuckle.

  ‘Ah yes, but you see, dearest, Horry is only a child. I feel – I feel anxiety, I won’t conceal from you. Lord Rule is not a child.’ She puckered her brow. ‘Horry does such things! If he will only be gentle with her, and patient!’

  ‘Why, love,’ said Mr Heron, humouring her, ‘I don’t think you need to put yourself about. His lordship is all gentleness, and I don’t doubt will have patience enough.’

  ‘All gentleness,’ she repeated. ‘Indeed he is, and yet – do you know, Edward, I think I might be afraid of him? Sometimes, if you do but notice, he has a trick of closing his lips that gives to the whole face an air of – I must say inflexibility, quite foreign to what one knows of him. But if he will only come to love Horry!’

  No one but Miss Winwood was inclined to indulge in such questionings, least of all Lady Winwood basking in the envy of her acquaintance. Everyone was anxious to felicitate her; everyone knew what a triumph was hers. Even Mr Walpole, who was staying in Arlington Street at the time, came to pay her a morning visit, and to glean a few details. Mr Walpole’s face wore an approving smile, though he regretted that his god-daughter should be marrying a Tory. But then Mr Walpole was so very earnest a Whig, and even he seemed to think that Lady Winwood was right to disregard Rule’s political opinions. He set the tips of his fingers together, crossing one dove-silk stockinged leg over the other, and listened with his well-bred air to all Lady Winwood had to say. She had a great value for Mr Walpole, whom she had known for many years, but she was care