Courtship of convenience, p.1
Courtship of Convenience, page 1
Courtship of Convenience
(Observations of a Wallflower)
Jane Charles
Night Shift Publishing
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Courtship of Convenience - Copyright © 2021 by Jane Charles
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Historical Romances by Jane Charles
Contemporary Romances by Jane Charles
About Jane
For Umiko, my dear friend, who was lost suddenly and far too soon. I will miss you. I will miss the laughter.
* * *
Jane
Prologue
London, July 3, 1816
* * *
So ends my very first London Season. While uneventful for myself, the same cannot be said for others. There were great matches, love stories, broken hearts, disappointments, and more gossip than any one person should be forced to endure in a full year, let alone the four months I suffered.
My older sisters had an enjoyable Season, and I do understand their perspective as they danced and were courted. Further, they became reacquainted with friends they’d made in earlier years and took delight in many outings.
As for my brothers, I quickly learned that they came to London for an entirely different form of entertainment, and one which had nothing to do with thoughts of courtship. Further, it did not take long to realize that the flirtatious attention that a certain widow bestowed upon my oldest brother had nothing to do with her wish to remarry. This is all supposition, of course, and based upon conversations I overheard. Ones that I wish I hadn’t heard, and given the sensitive nature, I will not be asking my brother for clarification.
Though many would deem my first Season “uneventful”, I disagree. I have a deep sense of accomplishment at having nearly filled this journal with my observations of the 1816 London Season, much like the gossip rags that report the scandalous and noteworthy news of others. However, mine are more honest, or at least I’ve strived to be, as I try to understand why people behave the way they do. Some are led by their hearts, others by their minds, and the third group – by fortunes, or lack thereof.
Society and their interactions can be remarkably interesting, and awfully disappointing, but my world has expanded now that I’ve finally spent time away from the family estate and small village that had been the whole of my existence these past eighteen years. For that alone, I do look forward to returning to London once again and to take in the sights, visit the museums and theatres, and continue to observe.
While I believe that I’ve come to understand the motivations and personalities of those who intrigued me most, there are two such individuals for whom I’ve not quite determined their motivations.
The first being is Lady Violet Claxton. Lady Violet is one of the few people who was familiar to me prior to my first Season, but the acquaintance was not a close one. Though she attended several of the same entertainments as myself, she often did not remain with her family or friends. Instead, at the first opportunity, she disappeared into the gardens. I followed a few times, out of curiosity, but she was not meeting a lover as I had feared. Instead, she seemed to take great interest in the plants and bushes and simply enjoyed sitting alone with the blooms.
Perhaps Lady Violet is here because she was forced to attend. Or perhaps she simply finds these entertainments tedious, though I cannot fathom why. She’s quite lovely with an even temperament, and certainly does not lack confidence. Further, she is sought after, and bachelors gather to sign her dance card almost as soon as she arrives. It should be noted that Lady Violet rarely grants such requests, which has me questioning—why does she prefer roses over bachelors?
The other person of interest is Lord Emory Talbot, Viscount Ferrard. He is the heir to the Earl of Lovell, nearing the age of seven and twenty, and the eldest of eight siblings. Though he has the duty to marry and produce an heir and a spare, he barely showed any interest in doing so. My brothers have informed me that no gentleman is ever ready to be leg-shackled, and they will retain their freedom for as long as possible. I’ve learned that Lord Ferrard prefers lonely widows over actresses, and he does not keep a mistress, as he avoids any form of commitment, no matter how temporary the duration. I’m also certain it’s best that I don’t have this private knowledge either. However, it’s information that was said within my hearing, and impossible to ignore.
The Wallflowers, who remain at the side of the ballroom, silent, and many hopeful, are apparently invisible since discussions are carried on in our presence as if we weren’t even there, which is how Lord Ferrard became a study.
His motivation at the beginning of the Season seemed quite clear to me, as he was known to be a rake and did not try to hide the fact. I wouldn’t have needed to hear such gossip to have come to that conclusion on my own. Several times I witnessed him leave a ball on the arm of a lovely widow. Sometimes he returned an hour later and sometimes he did not.
However, in the last month of the Season it appeared that Lord Ferrard had lost interest in lonely widows. Instead, he turned his attention to the various ladies and misses who were above reproach. He took turns about the room, and danced often, though I rarely saw him dance with anyone more than once. I had assumed that he’d turned his mind to marriage, but he didn’t spend enough time with any one miss or lady to cause one to believe that he may be considering a courtship. What caused him to suddenly turn his attention from widows to misses?
All in all, even though I did not end this Season with a grand betrothal, I am not disappointed. In fact, I’m quite satisfied.
Perhaps I’ll recall more of what I observed and record it within these pages. Or, perhaps I’ll create stories for those who have left me to wonder, such as Lady Violet and Lord Ferrard. Perhaps one day I will even write brilliant novels the likes of which E. B. Weston pens. After all, what else is there for a wallflower to do but observe and take note.
Chapter 1
Laswell, Devon, England, December 27, 1816
* * *
“Measles!” Mrs. Harley exclaimed from the front parlor.
Lady Violet Claxton grasped the railing of the stairs as alarm rushed through her being. It was a common disease, that she well knew, but it could also be deadly—a harsh reality that she had become painfully aware of as a child, and why she suffered such an irrational response at the mere pronouncement of the disease.
“Yes,” a deep voice answered. “Did he have the rash before he left your home yesterday?”
Was that Dr. Talbot?
Violet tilted an ear toward the door as she slid one slippered foot onto the next step, quietly and slowly edging her way to the landing, thankful that the stairs were thickly carpeted so that none could hear her approach.
“He had the sniffles, if I recall,” Mrs. Harley answered. “And a slight cough. Mrs. Buckley sent him to his bed following the Christmas festivities and when his duties were complete.”
Mrs. Buckley was the housekeeper and diligent in her duties, even though the Harleys had few servants, as this was a modest household. Well, it was modest compared to Violet’s home, Forester Hall, a sprawling manor that had been the estate belonging to the Duke of Arscott for nearly two centuries.
“Is anyone else within your household ill?” Dr. Talbot asked.
Violet had had few encounters with Dr. Talbot since he’d arrived in Laswell to take over the medical practice of the now retired Dr. Pierce. While he was a handsome fellow, it was Silvia Harley, her dearest friend, who suffered from the certain signs of attraction when he was near. On the authority of female acquaintances in London, the certain signs were a racing pulse and heart palpitations. As Violet had yet to be attracted to any gentleman, she had not suffered from such symptoms, thus she must trust in their experience.
“Not that I’m aware,” Mrs. Harley answered.
Violet stepped onto the white and grey marble ent ry of the entrance hall and twisted around the corner just enough to see into the parlor, bright from the sunlight reflecting off the stark white walls. All the rooms within the Harley household were equally bright, decorated in yellows, peaches, whites, and lavenders, as Mrs. Harley detested dark colors since she deemed them depressing.
“Perhaps I should ask the housekeeper,” Mrs. Harley suggested.
“It would be best if we know for certain if anyone else is ill.”
As the parlor door was open, Violet decided that their conversation was not meant to be private. Therefore, it wasn’t necessary that she linger in the corridor. Besides, she needed to know if Silvia was within. If not, Violet would alert her friend immediately so that she’d not miss this opportunity to be near the good doctor in hopes that he too might experience the certain signs of attraction and desire to court Silvia.
At her entrance, Dr. Talbot came to his feet and nodded in greeting. “Lady Violet.”
“Dr. Talbot,” she returned. “Did I hear correctly? Has someone contracted measles?”
“Henry,” Mrs. Harley answered.
Violet frowned. “The young footman? How dreadful.”
“Would you please summon the housekeeper, dear.”
“Of course.” Violet crossed to the bellpull, noting that Silvia was not within. With those thoughts, she would need to excuse herself to locate her dear friend.
“Have you been in the household long, Lady Violet?” Dr. Talbot asked.
“I arrived yesterday afternoon.”
He pulled back, his brown eyes widening in surprise, or perhaps it was alarm. Violet did not yet know him well enough to interpret his facial reaction, and she hated to assume when not certain.
“I was to understand that your father was having a house party,” he said after a moment.
All of Laswell knew of her father’s plans, but few knew why. “That is the very reason I’m visiting with Silvia, and the Harleys were kind enough to extend an invitation so that I could vacate Forester Hall until the guests have departed.”
“I believe you are the first lady who has avoided a house party.”
“Its purpose is matchmaking, and I have no desire to be matched.”
“I hope your decision does not cause you to become ill.”
It was almost as if Dr. Talbot were scolding her. As he was not a relative, it should not be his concern. “I experienced measles as a child. A rather severe case. Or so I’m told.”
“Such a terrible tragedy,” Mrs. Harley tsked.
Violet inwardly groaned. She detested having her family discussed, and Mrs. Harley did love to gossip.
“The entire family was afflicted, with the exception of His Grace and his mother.” Mrs. Harley shook her head. “Violet’s mother and her sister didn’t survive.”
“I’m terribly sorry for your loss, Lady Violet,” Dr. Talbot murmured.
“Thank you,” she returned, not wishing to discuss the matter any further. It still pained her, even though it had been several years since the occurrence.
Violet had been one of the last in her family to become ill and by the time she’d been allowed to leave her sick bed, Amelia and Mother were already gone and buried. Violet hadn’t even been given an opportunity to say goodbye. For an eight-year-old, that had been more traumatic than nearly dying from the disease. To make the year more painful, her beloved grandfather had died a few months later.
As she had no desire to reminisce about those painful days, Violet turned her thoughts to something over which she had some semblance of control: Silvia had not yet come downstairs. Her friend would be devastated at having missed the visit from Dr. Talbot, even if he were only here to deliver distressing news.
“Yes, Mrs. Harley?” the housekeeper asked as she entered the parlor.
“Is anyone else ill.”
Mrs. Buckley frowned. “Miss Harley is still abed and complained of a cough and the sniffles. Cook has sent up some tea.”
Violet sucked in a breath and dearly hoped her friend suffered only a minor ailment and not the dreaded measles.
She quickly pushed the panic aside. It was an irrational response, as she had no control over the situation. As much as she wished there were a cure, there wasn’t, and getting upset would solve nothing and often robbed the person from acting in a sensible manner.
Dr. Talbot focused on Mrs. Harley. “Did your daughter have measles as a child?”
Mrs. Harley brought a hand to her breast as the color left her face, leaving only the brushed rouge strikingly bright upon her cheeks. “No. She did not. When others in the area became afflicted, and after the horrible deaths, we didn’t let her leave the house.”
“I am afraid she might have contracted the disease.” Dr. Talbot straightened. “I should examine her to be certain.”
“I will check on her.” Violet started for the door. She needed to see Silvia for herself. Not only for the reassurance that her friend was not seriously ill, but also to warn her that Dr. Talbot was soon to grace her presence.
“You wait here, Violet,” Mrs. Harley insisted as she rushed toward the entry. “I’ll see that my daughter is prepared.”
At least Silvia was to be alerted, though it did little to ease Violet’s concern for her friend. “I hope Henry hasn’t spread the measles to anyone else.”
“Unfortunately, it is likely that he has,” Dr. Talbot grumbled.
If Silvia were ill, it was likely that others within the Harley household would be afflicted as well.
“Henry didn’t want to miss the Servants’ Assembly, and even though he was feeling ill, he attended regardless. Once he’d spent hours dancing and mingling, he collapsed, and the rash was noted by another.”
“Goodness, he could have spread the disease to everyone.” The Servants’ Assembly was held every Boxing Day, which was yesterday. It had been a tradition from long before Violet was born. Most of their servants attended, and it was the very reason why Father’s house party wasn’t scheduled to begin until today.
“In an attempt to keep the illness from being spread to all households, I decided to quarantine everyone in attendance. The men are to remain at the Assembly Hall and cots have been brought in for their comfort. The women have been placed in the three inns until we know for certain.”
How would her father and grandmother manage the additional guests without servants?
“Only those who had contracted the illness previously were allowed to return to their homes.”
Violet relaxed at the news. Many of their servants had been with the household when her family had taken ill, so it was likely only a few had been asked to remain in Laswell. At least, she hoped that were the case given guests were soon to arrive at Forester Hall. It wouldn’t do to be understaffed.
“You may go up now, Dr. Talbot.” A maid paused at the door. “I’ll show you the way.”
“If you’ll excuse me.” Dr. Talbot offered a slight bow and quit the room.
At being left alone, Violet poured a cup of tea to await the prognosis as to whether Silvia had indeed contracted measles. She also pondered her friend’s reaction to Dr. Talbot being in her bedchamber. Silvia had been hoping for an opportunity to gain Dr. Talbot’s attention and had even considered the option of a minor injury, though Violet couldn’t understand why someone would go to such lengths. However, as Violet had never suffered from the obvious signs of attraction, perhaps she simply didn’t understand the use of such manipulation.
“I’ve had your trunk packed, Violet, so that you can return home,” Mrs. Harley announced as she bustled into the parlor, Dr. Talbot not far behind.
