CHAPTER
32
HENRY SAT PATIENTLY while Myers considered the information Henry had just shared with him. He pretended to take an interest in the cigar he was holding, even though he was only smoking it as a gesture of goodwill after Myers offered it to him.
Myers did not look happy. Henry had expected this. By suggesting that Myers consider Carrington as a suitor for Florence, he was tacitly and politely declining to offer for her himself. This had clearly been a blow to the American’s plans.
“I won’t say I’m not disappointed,” Myers said at last. “After meeting you and your family, I would have been pleased to see a connection forged between our two dynasties, as it were.” He eyed Henry. “Are you sure there is nothing wrong with Florence—other than this pesky business about Carrington?”
“Sir, your daughter is lovely and charming. I find no fault in her at all.”
“Except the fault of being too honest.” Myers shook his head. “I suppose I have only myself to blame. She’s my only child, and so clever and sharp-witted. I’ve always allowed her to speak her mind.”
Henry was relieved Myers seemed to be taking this so well. “I was concerned you might think I was intentionally misleading you during your visit to my home. I would never do such a thing.”
Myers took a moment to survey the room; they were in the lounge at Henry’s club. “I understand why you asked to meet me here. When our women learn what we’ve discussed today, there will be all kinds of emotional outpourings—positive and negative.”
“Yes, that was my thought as well.”
“I think they all three had particular goals they were determined to pursue, no matter what.” Myers leaned back in his chair. “I was happy to go along with my wife’s desire that Florence marry an English lord, especially as it seemed to be Florence’s dream as well. We took this trip to England with high expectations, but things did not turn out exactly as we planned. I’m not such a tyrant as to force my daughter into a marriage she does not want. However, the corollary is that I will do anything to get her into a marriage of which I approve.”
Henry nodded. “I understand.”
“You laid out very kind reasons why you’re not going to pursue this match. You’ve been generous in your compliments toward Florence and our family. I can’t help but think there is an element of self-sacrifice in it. Many men would not hesitate at the chance to marry a young lady with such an appealing dowry.”
“I would like to think I have higher principles than that. However, I will admit I had hopes we might nonetheless strike another kind of deal—one that has nothing to do with marriage.” He held his breath while Myers considered this.
After a moment, the American shook his head. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Lord Morestowe. I think for now it’s best if we go our separate ways. I wish you all the best, and I have no doubt you will be successful with your mining enterprise.”
“I understand.” It was disappointing but expected.
Myers rose to his feet. “I suppose I had better get back to the hotel and face the onslaught that will follow when I tell them about this conversation.”
Henry wasn’t looking forward to telling his mother, either. She would be livid. But it wouldn’t be the first of her storms that Henry had weathered.
“It will be hard on my wife, as she had her heart set on this,” Myers said as they walked toward the door. “But if this Wesley Carrington proves to be suitable, perhaps she’ll be mollified in the end. I’ll check into his background right away. If I find any evidence he’s nothing but a fortune hunter, he’ll get nowhere near Florence. I may be softhearted when it comes to my daughter, but I didn’t get where I am today by giving away the store.”
Henry could believe this. “I put out a few inquiries. From what I’ve learned, Mr. Carrington is telling the truth about his current circumstances and the prospect of an inheritance when his uncle dies. In addition, he seems to be solidly in the circle of His Royal Highness’s good friends. If your daughter marries Mr. Carrington, she’ll have greater entrée to the royal family than I could give her.”
Myers looked pleased. “I’ll keep that in mind when I try to win my wife over to the idea.” As they paused to shake hands before parting, he said, “There’s just one more thing I’d like to ask you. It’s mere shameless curiosity on my part, and you don’t have to answer.”
“I’d be happy to, if I can.”
“By the time you met Florence, she’d already given her heart to this Carrington fellow. Whether that was a foolish mistake remains to be seen. Throughout our conversation, you never gave any hint that you might have your eye on someone else. Even so, I can’t help but wonder if that was a factor in your decision.”
“You are very perceptive, Mr. Myers.”
“It wouldn’t happen to be your governess, would it?”
Henry stared at him in admiring surprise. “Was it that obvious?”
“I may be perceptive, but I’m no mind reader,” Myers replied. “In my factories, I always pay attention to what the men on the floor are saying. The same principle can be applied to these big country houses. My valet overheard a comment in the servants’ hall—that Miss Bernay had been dining at your table in the evenings, and in every other way being treated as a guest—until we arrived. I’m sorry she was demoted on our account. I hope you’ll do something to make it up to her.”
Henry could think of a thousand ways he would like to do that. “That’s kind of you to say.”
“What’s her background? I assume she has no money or position.”
“Miss Bernay is . . . a friend of the family, you might say. However, we were not lying that a reason for her being there was to help with Amelia. She has a lot of experience working with children. She was raised in an orphanage.”
“An orphanage! Well, well.” Myers looked impressed. “Yet you obviously feel she has the potential to rise to better things. I hate to be a braggart about my native country, but that does seem more of an American point of view than an English one.” He accompanied this remark with a little grunt. “Except in New York. Those people seem overly interested in people’s pedigrees. But I believe that will change in time.”
“I feel the same way about English society.”
“As you are aware, my wife and I both had hardscrabble childhoods. She didn’t marry me for my money or social position. No, sir. We didn’t have a dollar between us. My Maybelle and I married for love, and we’re still happy today, despite one or two differing opinions.” He chuckled. “Or maybe three.”
Henry smiled.
Myers reached out again to shake his hand. “I wish you all the best, sir.”
As Henry watched the American stroll off down the street, he felt troubled. He was sure he’d made the right decision, but that didn’t make the road ahead any easier.
Henry returned to his club. He sat in the lounge, brooding over what steps he should take next. The path seemed to be clearing, yet many obstacles remained.
To marry a woman with no dowry was folly for a man in his position. Not only was someone of his social standing entitled to a wealthy and well-connected bride, but the financial burdens he carried made it seem imperative. And yet hadn’t he been determined to succeed on his own? It was too soon to give up on the idea of making the mine work. Also, there was no reason crops might not be better in the coming years. The future was, as it had always been, in God’s hands. He would keep working, and he would keep praying for help and guidance.
Then there was the question of his mother. This was both a hard and an easy problem to tackle. She might attempt to make his life miserable if he married Cara, but she could not stop the marriage from happening.
Perhaps the thorniest issue was how little he knew about Cara’s background. He had no doubt that she was a good person, and yet he could not afford to risk his reputation if it were discovered that her family had skeletons in their closet. As the Earl of Morestowe, he had responsibilities he could not shirk, no matter how much he might want to.
Henry mulled over what he knew of Cara based on their previous conversations. There was that mad story of her hiding from the police in a giant washing kettle. That alone ought to be a warning. It had the potential to make a laughingstock of him and the family name. But would it? Cara had made it clear that both she and her sister were absolved of any wrongdoing.
As he considered this, another detail of the story came to mind. Cara had said the barrister, Michael Stephenson, was now her brother-in-law. Henry knew who this man was. The widely publicized lawsuit that Stephenson had won for the Earl of Westbridge had made his name well-known among the peerage.
Henry rose from his chair and walked to the other end of the club’s lounge, which had paper and pens available for its members’ use. There were many things Henry didn’t know about the future, but this was one thing he could do. He would see about arranging a meeting with Stephenson.
“She really does have a flair for this, doesn’t she?” Langham said, joining Cara as she watched Amelia’s latest riding lesson.
By now Amelia had graduated to a larger ring and was riding fully on her own. Mr. Hart was still there, giving instructions, but these were finer, more subtle corrections to her posture and movements. One side of the ring had a set of raised benches covered with an awning, providing a place where Cara could sit comfortably while watching. She had brought her sketch pad and was doing her best to capture horse and rider.
This was the first lesson since the Myerses had come to the stables three days ago. Cara had spent most of her waking hours since then at the dower house, launching wholeheartedly into her painting. That had been easy yesterday, when the Myerses were still here and Amelia had been invited to join them in a croquet match. She and Henry had won against Mr. Myers and his daughter. Amelia had related all the details to Cara later. In any other circumstances, Cara would have counted it an achievement that the girl had spent a congenial afternoon with the adults. Instead, she had found it painful, like a harbinger of the separation that was to come, even though she knew it was wrong to feel that way.
Shaking off those thoughts, Cara brought her attention back to Langham. “Are you feeling better?”
“Right as rain. Your prescription once more did the trick.”
Yesterday Langham had stayed in his room, complaining once more of a headache. Cara thought his recovery might actually have something to do with his relief at the Americans being gone. She suspected he might ordinarily have enjoyed such gregarious people, but he still held a grudge toward his mother for the underhanded way she’d brought Miss Myers into their midst.
Cara had watched from an upper window yesterday as Henry and the Myerses had boarded the carriage for the railway station. She had seen with painful clarity the pleased smiles on everyone’s faces—especially the ladies. It was easy to imagine what was happening in London. Henry would be concluding his deals with Mr. Myers. Would one of those be a marriage contract? Remembering what Henry had said about wanting to speak with her when he returned, her heart had filled with trepidation. The dreamlike wonder and excitement of those beautiful moments in the dower house had mostly vanished in the glare of the days that had followed.
“Well, that’s impressive!” Langham said as Amelia confidently took the pony over a low hurdle. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, though. Not if she is Henry’s daughter. Both he and Mother are excellent riders.”
“You are not?” Cara asked.
He shook his head. “I prefer driving—and much too fast, according to my mother and brother.” He grinned. “But that’s what makes it exciting and therefore worth doing.”
“Are you taking a day off from painting?” she asked, since he wore a nice suit instead of the paint-splotched clothing and boots that were his usual working attire.
“That’s right. As the old saying goes, ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.’ Besides, we have a guest coming today. Nigel is always great company.”
“Do you mean Lord Nigel Hayward?”
“That’s right. He sent a note proposing to visit, so I wrote back and said by all means come over. Even though Henry is gone, I saw no reason he shouldn’t come, and Mother agrees. I might even do Henry a favor and pester Nigel some more about that mining deal. Nigel likes me. Besides, Mother and I are both anxious to meet his fiancée. She’s coming with him.”
Cara gasped. Her mind instantly went a thousand places as she tried to decide what to do.
Langham saw her dismay. “Don’t worry, you shan’t have to play the role of governess. I’m sure that’s what my mother would like, but we’re done with that. I fully intend to introduce you to Nigel and Sarah—although I suppose for today I ought to call her Miss Needenham, even though I detest being so stuffy and formal—as our family friend.”
“No!” Cara blurted, panic rising. “I mean, that won’t be necessary. Perhaps I’ll just stay away anyway. To, ah, make things easier. I’m sure her ladyship would prefer it, and, really, I have no objection.”
Her words came out so stilted that Langham tilted his head and looked at her in surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of my mother. I’ll lose all respect for you if that is the case.”
“Of course not. It’s just that, well, I do think things will go better for everyone if I were absent.”
No sooner had she spoken than they heard the sound of a carriage approaching.
“It’s too late now,” Langham observed. “Here they are.”
The carriage did indeed hold Miss Sarah Needenham, her aunt, and Lord Nigel. The countess made the fourth person in the carriage, which showed they must have spent time at the house before coming to the stables.
Langham hurried over to them, calling out his greetings before the carriage wheels had even stopped. Cara, desperately wishing she was anywhere but here, brought a handkerchief to her nose, though it would only buy her a few seconds of anonymity. Caught between the urge to flee and the desire not to draw attention to herself, she decided to remain seated. She even hunched down a little in the vain hope they might forget she was there. Meanwhile, out in the ring, Amelia was so busy conquering the low jumps Mr. Hart had set up for her that she didn’t notice what was going on beyond it.
Lord Nigel’s attention went immediately to the pony and rider even as he and Langham helped the ladies out of the carriage. He grinned in appreciation. “I had no idea Maisie was capable of such things! My little cousin did not take her through such excellent paces.”
He and the others spent another minute watching Amelia and exclaiming over how well she was doing. Cara could feel sweat trickling down her neck as she waited for the inevitable.
Sure enough, Langham finally said to them, “Allow me to introduce you to a family friend.”
He turned and motioned for Cara to join them. Reluctantly, she got up from the bench. She could feel her legs shaking as she walked. She watched Sarah Needenham’s face, waiting for the recognition to set in. She hoped that when it did, Sarah might have some compassion, since the two of them had gotten along well and had not seen each other since before the incident with Robbie.
Miss Needenham blinked several times in bewilderment and disbelief. Her expression became an angry stare when Langham said, “This is Miss Cara Bernay. She’s visiting us for a few weeks.”
“Our normal governess was called away by a death in the family,” the countess added, clearly wanting to keep that pretense going with these new guests.
“You can’t tell me you are acting as a governess!” Sarah’s words shot out fast and hard, startling everyone so much that they practically jumped.
Cara took a deep breath. She kept her hands flat against her sides so that no one could see them shaking. “As Mr. Burke has noted, I am here as a friend.”
“Do you two know each other?” Lord Nigel asked his fiancée.
Sarah pointed an accusing finger at Cara. “This is the woman who nearly killed my brother!”