Chapter 3. Two Prospective Brides
The Duke finally felt the townhouse settle into a quiet sleep as he sank into his reading chair by the fireplace, once again ready to read the letters that had flowed in response to his discreet and anonymous advertisement for a wife.
To order a wife by mail seemed strange to him indeed; so strange he could only open the letters in the confidential cloak of night, undisturbed by even the servants. He imagined the matronly cook had gone to sleep in her bed tucked round a corner not too far from the kitchen fireplace. During cold, wintery evenings she was sure to be warm and able to tend to any soups or stews. Charles had retired to his own quiet room across from the kitchen at the end of the main hall under the staircase where he could hear and answer the door to any disturbances in the middle of the night, where he'd always slept for as long as William could remember. A scullery maid and a parlor maid shared a narrow room on the third floor and had long ago retired to bed, their duties, errands and chores completed for the day. Several stable hands and the lad bunked in a rather cozy room off the stable situated behind the townhouse.
William's personal valet, Edward Brighton, had been excused to visit family. The three other servants who had accompanied him by coach now slept soundly under the supervision of Jack Medley in the stable loft on the Hanwell farm. They were to journey back to Ivy Clifton from the cottage located on the front edge of the small farm in Oxford-shire. The farm nestled to a very scenic Cotswold village, south of Gloucester-shire. They had been instructed to deliver the provisions the Duke required, and if the employees at the farm had not received the letters Charles had sent, they were to present a personal letter of explanation from the Duke with his seal and thereby grant a paid vacation. Aunt Regina, he surmised, wouldn't miss having these footmen or his personal driver as servants on hand for some time to come. She was usually over staffed at Ivy Clifton Hall. Rather, he guessed she (and Uncle James) would find some bit of relief and comfort to know these servants accompanied her at- the- moment, very stray nephew.
Her headstrong nephew spent the next hour hungrily devouring the words of the letters in his hands. What was it his advertisement had said? He squinted as he tried to recall the exact wording. It had been short and straight away to the point. Something akin to: Humble farmer seeking a good and dependable, devoted wife. Reply to: ... and the address of a house on Peach Street. The house on Peach Street he had discreetly rented for three purposes. One, he could receive replies there without anyone else gaining knowledge of the matter. Secondly, he could interview any prospective brides there, without interruption. Thirdly, as the house was a simple one story cottage, he could judge the reaction of a future bride to a meager and humble situation. Once identified, he could admit to having rented the place for conducting his business, while not betraying the character of a farmer, a part he was about to play in a great charade to test his future wife's character, motive and devotion. He could only hope she would in the end, forgive his deception and be overcome with joy at the prospect of being a Duchess.
His new wife, if any was found, might react negatively once he revealed the truth to her. He decided it was a chance he would have to take. In all of London and even in his own country circles he had yet to locate a female who did not seem to either lack in virtues he required or abound in motive, rather too eager to marry a future Duke. This alternative was his last hope of finding a Duchess.
So, it had come to this. He had taken to riding past the house on Peach Street at his leisure, usually in lieu of his morning ride, to check for mail every few days. Imagine his surprise when after a week and a half of no letters at all, he found five waiting for him all in the space of one day. He sighed, accepted his plan once again and began to read the first letter, carefully opening the envelope lest he somehow damage the contents. By the time he had read all five letters he knew which two women he wished to actually interview face to face. For the moment, he had disregarded three of the five based on certain facts contained in the letters.
One letter was from a lady who admitted her age. At forty and three years old, she was clearly old enough to be his mother. He set her letter aside. The next letter frightened him by the spelling and grammatical errors. She appeared to have very little education which from the onset would make them incompatible. He had been educated by a number of private tutors and had attended a university. He did not look down upon her lack of education but knew it would be an ill-suited match from the start.
Another of the letters contained a detailed account of the death of the writer's former husband, a situation which had left her in a dire predicament. She was now widowed, penniless and the desperate mother of five children; clearly a fact loud enough to frighten him more than the lack of an education. He was not entirely sure he was ready to father five children who belonged to another man, even if he was a dead man. He placed that letter aside before reading the second paragraph. He made a mental note to send this woman a generous sum to assist her plight, anonymously of course.
This left two viable prospects. The first of these, a woman named Miss Leah Elizabeth Martin. She was not of titled birth but seemed to pen a proper letter of introduction. She was aged twenty and one years, nearly on the shelf -- but giving her the benefit of the doubt, he would have to meet with her in person to ascertain her situation and personality. She had several points in her favor, the first being she had no children. She had not been married before nor engaged and neither was she too old. She lived at present in London with her mother and stepfather but longed to return to the countryside where she had been raised as a child. She stated she could sew, knit, mend, cook, bake, govern a household properly, read, write, and care for children if there were not too many.
She seemed sensible and her penmanship was nearly perfect. He laid her letter aside as the first of letters to which he would reply and request an interview. She seemed as if she would at the very least be, reliable. She also seemed to have an element of honesty hidden within the letter, as she mentioned she would perhaps not be able to care for too many children. He wondered how many children, were, too many? She also seemed very business-like, as if she were applying for a position, such as a governess. He liked that she did not divulge too many details. This might lead one to conclude she was discreet and would protect his honor in the future.
On the other hand, he wished she had been slightly more personable in the letter or have shared something with him in which she was more passionate about besides her desire to return to the countryside. It could be safe to assume based on her statements, she would be most comfortable living a quiet, respectable life in the country. On this point, he felt he had indeed made some connection with her. He was not fond of the social whirl of the ton and could relate to her desire to return to a private life in the solitude of a country setting.
She failed to mention what her stepfather's occupation was, if any. She made no mention of any connections or references. This information could be obtained by interview, however.
The remaining letter was most intriguing of all…The Honorable Alexandra Nicole Benningham. He instantly liked the way her name sounded. Nineteen years of age, she was of titled birth, the daughter and only child of a recently deceased Viscount and parish vicar. She resided at the manse in a small parish on the northern outskirts of London. Her mother had died from a severe case of influenza when she was but the age of thirteen.
She had been permitted to remain in residence at the manse for the past year since her father's death due to the extreme kindness and benevolence of her benefactress, who also intended to see to it Alexandra had a true “coming out ball” as promised her father on his deathbed. Alexandra wrote, in her own words she was “at present, very sad to find herself in the unfortunate position of being in great debt to her benefactress for my living arrangements. As such, I am very nearly reluctant to accept such an expensive and lavish affair at the hand of my benefactress, Lady Victoria Aramonda Dresden, though I do understand it to be a duty compelled of great sacrifice and compassion from someone completely devoted to my late beloved father.” She wrote that it was to her misfortune her father's small estate (located in Somerset) was entailed to an uncle who had set sail for America and had not yet been located. She had no other living relations and no current evident means of self-support and thought “perhaps, if they were suitable to each other, a marriage might be most agreeable to both of them by mutual consent.”
The letter went on to say she desired “to live a quiet and secluded life in the countryside and would immensely enjoy supporting her husband in every possible way in his agricultural and farming pursuits.” She enjoyed “needlepoint and sewing, drawing and art, music, literature and gardening.” She said being the daughter of a vicar, naturally she was passionate about her faith in Jesus Christ as her Savior and her favorite book to read was the Bible, her most treasured possession.
She wrote that in addition to having had a governess for two years where she had studied history and other lessons common to young ladies, she had also been privately tutored in French for two years.
She enjoyed dancing, as in a charming country dance from time to time when the opportunity had presented itself and had never been to a ball other than a few times at Christmas at the residence of her benefactress, where a great many had been in attendance.
She assured him she would be a most devoted wife and would do her best to learn everything he might require of her in the way of her duties. She asked where they would be situated were he to choose her as his bride. He thought this sentence to show great insight on her part, an insight most unusual in a girl of her age. She closed the letter by writing she was very much looking forward to his reply. She added a post script asking him to overlook and forgive her boldness to ask if he might grant permission for her piano to be delivered or if one might already be located at his residence. He smiled, thinking how delighted she would eventually be to find not one but two available and in residence at Ivy Clifton Hall, as well as one at the Hanwell farm.
He smiled as he laid this last letter on top of the other. He thought they had a number of things in common, enough to perhaps allow a romance to bloom. They shared the same faith and this was encouraging. Her effervescent personality, even in the face of her losses and grief, seemed to bubble forth and spill out of her letter. She seemed genuine, happy, and although very young, like a little bird had fluttered gently all over his heart. While he wondered if she could cook or bake, he was most intrigued with Miss Alexandra Benningham's letter. He set about at once to write two letters of reply at his writing desk, being careful to blot the ink and allow each letter sufficient drying time. Then at the end, he realized he dare not use his seal, lest he give away his titled position. He kept his replies simple and direct and only used the initials WH when he signed the last line.
His thoughts turned again to the last letter. The thought that most disturbed him was that of Alexandra being subjected and indebted to Lady Victoria Aramonda Dresden, who although well connected by marriage and generally accepted, was rumored to have been romantically connected with the Prince Regent on numerous occasions. He tried to recall all that he knew of her from Aunt Regina's tales. Lady Dresden traveled in circles he would rather not. She was considered excessive and lavish in a way that seemed vulgar to the upper classes. As the second wife and widow to the well-respected, late Baron Jonathon Dresden, she had inherited the whole of his entire personal estate. As he recalled, there had been no heirs for her to contend with. Baron Dresden had been infatuated with her after the death of his first wife, but his second marriage hadn't lasted more than a few years before his untimely passing. Lady Dresden had inherited a small fortune, a great deal of land and a mansion north of London in the fashionable area of Pentonville; an elaborate house in Mayfair, the most desirable neighborhood in London; and a secluded summer house near Brighton, not far from the Prince Regent's beloved Royal Pavilion.
With no heirs, no wonder the Baroness might dote on Alexandra. She was of Spanish blood, of that he was sure. He had heard rumors she was loathed by some, particularly her servants. She was considered an outsider and a mushroom by the most elite and fashionable of the ton. It would not due for a future wife of his to remain under her thumb. He could not be sure at this point if Alexandra was in a mind to flee or patiently waiting for the right opportunity to become disentangled. No, he could not be sure of her motives at this juncture. Clearly, the Honorable Miss Benningham needed a fresh start.
The question was not whether she knew that she needed protection, but how well she might know of that fact. The late Baron Dresden had been very well respected and known for his fair dealings with tenants and those who lived in his parish, but with his death, Lady Dresden might not be managing matters in quite the same respectable and fair tone. He could not even be certain that Lady Dresden even cared for Miss Benningham beyond any duty she felt toward her since her father's passing. It seemed to him a precarious situation at best. What little he knew concerning the Baroness was information he'd heard circulated by close friends of Aunt Regina and Uncle James, much of which they had probably obtained through the rumor mill or the reading of social columns. As he looked at the letters again, he was glad it appeared that Miss Leah Martin had no connection to anyone he knew. It might be refreshing.