Regency High Society Vol 3: Beloved Virago / Lord Trenchard's Choice / The Unruly Chaperon / Colonel Ancroft's Love. Elizabeth Rolls
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relishing the prospect of entertaining a pack of fiendish harridans.’
Sir Giles, a master at concealing both thoughts and emotions, permitted himself a thin smile. ‘The Dowager Lady Charlesworth is certainly a formidable matron. It is something of an enigma how she and that apathetic late husband of hers ever managed to produce two such well-balanced, engaging sons. I know you and Lavinia must be delighted with the match. Richard is an agreeable young man and a credit to his regiment.’
Unlike his sister, who enjoyed nothing better than a comfortable coze, Sir Giles only ever indulged in small talk when it was to his benefit to do so. Today, however, he was prepared to exert himself a little more than usual in an attempt to prevent his amiable neighbour from brooding unnecessarily over the ordeal ahead of him.
‘I have every faith in that charming wife of yours to be sure that everything will run smoothly this evening.’ There was no response, though Mr Wentworth, looking moderately more relaxed, did lean back in the chair and stretch his feet out towards the blazing fire. ‘I seem to remember my sister remarking that almost everyone who received an invitation has accepted. And the weather appears to be favouring you thus far.’
‘Yes, thank the Lord! At least we haven’t had snow, except …’ The worried frown returned. ‘My wife’s niece didn’t arrive yesterday as expected. Which makes me wonder whether the rest of the country is so fortunate, and bad weather might be heading our way.’
‘Had she far to travel?’ Sir Giles enquired, striving to maintain a polite show of concern, even though his interest in the unknown female was zero.
‘From Bath. My daughter will be very disappointed if she doesn’t arrive. Caroline simply adores her. My wife does too, come to that! Lavinia has been trying to persuade Katherine to make her home with us for the past twelve months, but without success. Still …’ he shrugged’… the girl seems happy enough to remain in the house left to her by her great-aunt. And it isn’t as if she’s a chit straight out of the schoolroom. She’ll attain the age of three-and-twenty later this year. And she doesn’t reside alone. There’s a companion living in the house, and an Irish maid who is devoted to her.’
‘Evidently her parents are dead,’ Sir Giles remarked, successfully stifling a yawn.
Henry Wentworth confirmed this with a solemn nod of his head. ‘Yes, it was all very sad. It so happens that her father was approached by the government to take a cargo of horses out to Portugal in readiness for the arrival of the British expeditionary force in the summer of ‘08. There was no better man at breeding or handling horses than Liam O’Malley. The craft he was on met up, as previously arranged, with two other vessels that had left England, also carrying urgently needed supplies. They were attacked by the French just off the Bay of Biscay.’
His expression changed, and he suddenly appeared more angry than sad. ‘Damn it! Where was the British Navy? Where was that promised protection, that’s what I’d like to know? Some damned mix-up at the Admiralty was what we were told! Apparently they had received information stating that the cargo vessels wouldn’t be setting sail for another ten days.’
Only for a moment did a speculative gleam flicker in the baronet’s steely-grey eyes as he digested these disturbing facts. ‘Yes, that does seem strange.’
‘Deuced odd!’ Mr Wentworth agreed. ‘My wife’s poor sister never recovered from the shock of losing her husband. She died a few weeks later after contracting a simple chill which went to her chest, and my father-in-law, Colonel Fairchild, went over to Ireland and brought Katherine back to live with him.’ Again he shook his head. ‘Poor little mite was just beginning to recover from her parents’ deaths when the Colonel suffered a fatal heart attack.’
‘Indeed, your niece is to be pitied,’ Sir Giles acknowledged, whilst momentarily wondering why the name Fairchild should seem vaguely familiar.
‘She was in Bath at the time. The old Colonel considered the girl was in dire need of a little polish, as you might say, and packed her off to live with his spinster sister so that she might attend a seminary. The house in Bath now belongs to Katherine, and she’s comfortably circumstanced. I can vouch for that, as I’m one of her trustees. Although she cannot touch so much as a penny piece of the money she attained from the sale of her father’s sizeable property in Ireland, and the money her grandfather left her in his will, until she attains the age of five-and-twenty, her great-aunt, Augusta Fairchild, ensured that she will live very agreeably until then.’
Once again Sir Giles found his interest in this unknown young woman swiftly waning, and experienced a modicum of relief when his butler unexpectedly entered to announce the arrival of another visitor. He was on his feet in a trice, surprising his neighbour somewhat by betraying a degree of delight when a tall gentleman, his muscular figure swathed in a voluminous grey cloak, came striding purposefully into the book-lined room.
‘Ross, my dear boy! This is an unexpected pleasure!’
The new arrival betrayed no similar joy as he shook the baronet’s proffered hand, although Mr Wentworth noticed a less hard set to Major Daniel Ross’s well-shaped mouth when the visitor was introduced to him.
‘Just a flying visit, Osborne,’ the Major announced. ‘I’ve a letter here from Cranford, which I undertook to deliver personally as I was making a trip to the capital in order to attend a reunion dinner with some fellow officers and spend some time with a particular friend, and therefore wouldn’t be inconvenienced too greatly by the slight detour.’
‘Thank you, my dear boy,’ Sir Giles responded, as he relieved the Major of the sealed missive and consigned it to the safety of his jacket pocket.
‘Cranford? Would that be the Honourable Charles Cranford, a member of Parliament?’ Mr Wentworth asked, thereby regaining his neighbour’s attention.
‘Why, yes,’ Sir Giles confirmed. ‘Are you acquainted with him?’
‘Not personally, no. But I dealt with my late father-in-law’s estate after he died, and unless I much mistake the matter it was none other than Charles Cranford who purchased the Colonel’s house in Dorset.’
‘Ah, yes! You may possibly be right, Wentworth. And that is perhaps why the name Fairchild seemed vaguely familiar to me,’ Sir Giles confessed, before casting an enquiring glance in the Major’s direction. ‘Young Daniel, here, should be able to enlighten us. Also he ought to be able to set your mind at rest over the state of the roads in the west.’
Although betraying mild surprise, the Major didn’t hesitate to assure Mr Wentworth that, although there had indeed been a light covering of snow overnight, all the main routes were passable. ‘I set out before dawn, and had no trouble whatsoever in reaching Andover, where I ate a late breakfast. And to answer your first query—yes, Charles Cranford did purchase the late Colonel Fairchild’s property. My home is situated close by. I knew the Colonel very well.’
‘Good Lord! It is a small world, indeed!’ Mr Wentworth exclaimed. ‘You must be acquainted with my wife Lavinia, the Colonel’s younger daughter. Although,’ he added, as he saw dark brows draw together above the Major’s faintly aquiline nose, ‘I expect you were a mere boy when we married and she moved away from the county.’
‘I remember that the Colonel had two daughters, sir. But as you remarked, it is a long time since last I set eyes upon either of them.’
‘Well, sir, I’m certain my wife would enjoy seeing you again. She retains fond memories of that part of the country. In fact,’ he added, as a thought suddenly occurred to him, ‘we’re holding a party this evening. Why not come along? You’d be most welcome. I know Lavinia would enjoy nothing better than chatting over old times.’
‘First, let us see if we cannot persuade him to remain long enough to enjoy a glass of wine,’ Sir Giles intervened, sensing that Major Ross was on the point of declining Mr Wentworth’s kind invitation.
Quickly finishing off the contents of his own glass, and refusing a second, Mr Wentworth cast a brief glance at the mantel-clock, which clearly informed him