said. 'Throckbridge is a very small village quite off the beaten track. They lived there in near poverty in a small cottage. The youngest sister was teaching at the village school.' 'And the widow?' she asked. 'She was living at Rundle Park, home of a baronet, her father-in-law,' he said. 'But it is not large, and Sir Humphrey Dew is a foolish, garrulous man, albeit good-natured and harmless. I doubt he has ever been farther than ten miles from home.' 'They are all going to need to be brought up to scratch, then,' she said. 'They are.' He sighed. 'I hoped to bring just Merton himself for now.
The sisters could have followed later - preferably /much /later.' 'But they /are /his sisters,' she said, getting to her feet to pour him another cup. 'And he /is /just a boy.' 'Thank you, Mama,' he said, taking his cup from her hands. 'How peaceful it is in here.' He wished she did not have another daughter to bring out this year. It would save him from having to…
But he was going to have to marry /someone /this year. 'They are a noisy family?' she asked, raising her eyebrows. 'Oh, no, no, nothing like that.' He sighed again. 'It is just that I felt so - ' 'Responsible?' she suggested. 'You have done ever since you inherited that obligation, Elliott. Is the boy intelligent? Serious-minded?
Willing to learn?' 'Definitely intelligent,' he said, 'though with something of a restless nature, I believe. He has wings and desperately wishes to use them without having much idea of how it might best be done.' 'He is, then, a typical young man,' she said with a smile. 'I suppose so,' he said. 'But he shows an interest in his land and its workings and in the prospect of taking on all the responsibilities of being a peer of the realm when he reaches his majority. He has agreed to continue with his plans to attend Oxford this autumn. He certainly has charm. I believe the servants at Warren Hall already adore him - not excluding Samson.' 'Then your time and efforts will not be wasted,' she said. 'And the ladies? Are they hopelessly rustic? Vulgar? Dull-minded?' 'None of those things.' He drained his cup, sighed with contentment as he stretched out his booted feet before him, and set it down at his elbow. 'I believe they will go on well enough. But, Mama, they are going to need to be taken to town this spring and outfitted properly and introduced to all the right people and presented to society and…
Well, I just do not know how it is to be done. /I /cannot do it - not for the sisters, at least.' 'Certainly not,' she agreed. 'And /you /cannot do it,' he said. 'You have Cecily to bring out this year.' He looked at her half hopefully. 'I do,' she agreed. 'I did think perhaps Aunt Fanny or Aunt Roberta - ' he began. 'Oh, Elliott.' She interrupted him. 'You /cannot /be serious.' 'No,' he said. 'I suppose not. And Grandmama is far too elderly. George says I ought to marry and have my wife sponsor them.' She brightened noticeably but then frowned. 'You told me after Christmas,' she said, 'that you intend to marry this year, before you turn thirty. I am delighted, of course, but I do hope you are not intending to choose coldly with your reason and forget that you also have a heart.' 'And yet,' he said, 'marriages that are carefully planned and arranged often turn out more happily than love matches, Mama.' He wished he had not said that as soon as the words were out. His mother's marriage had been very carefully arranged. But though she had been young and beautiful - and was still handsome in middle age - it had not been a happy match. His father had remained firmly attached to the mistress and family that had preceded her and her own.
She smiled into her cup but did not look up at him. 'George suggested that I marry Miss Huxtable,' he told her, watching her closely.
His mother had been lifting her cup to her lips, but her hand paused in midair. 'The eldest sister?' she asked. 'Of course,' he said. 'A rustic girl who has been living in a rural cottage?' She frowned at him and set her cup back in the saucer. 'And someone you scarcely know?
How old is she?' 'Probably in her middle twenties,' he said. 'She is sensible and refined of manner despite her humble upbringing in a country vicarage - and she is the great-granddaughter and sister of an earl, Mama.' '/George /said.' She looked fixedly at him. 'But what do /you /say, Elliott?' He shrugged. 'It is time I married and set up my nursery,' he said. 'I am quite resigned to being a married man before the year is out and a father as soon as possible after that. I have no preference for any particular bride. Miss Huxtable is, I suppose, as eligible as anyone.' His mother sat back in her chair and said nothing for a while. 'Jessica and Averil both married advantageously,' she said. 'But just as important, Elliott, they both had an affection for their husbands even before they married them. It is what I will hope for with Cecily either this year or next. It is what I have always hoped for with you too.' 'This is a discussion we have had before.' He smiled at her. 'I am /not /a romantic, Mama. I hope to marry someone with whom I can enjoy some comfort and companionship and even affection down the years. But most of all I hope to marry sensibly.' 'And is Miss Huxtable a sensible choice?' she asked him. 'I trust so,' he said. 'Is she beautiful?' his mother asked. 'Extremely,' he said.
She set down her cup and saucer on the table beside her. 'It is high time Cecily and I took the carriage over to Warren Hall,' she said, 'to pay our respects to the new Earl of Merton and his sisters. They must think it remiss of us not to have done so already. Is Constantine still there?' 'He left three days ago.' His jaw tightened. 'Cecily will be disappointed,' she said. 'She adores him. I daresay the new Earl of Merton will be inducement enough to persuade her to accompany me, though. She has asked a thousand questions about him, none of which I have been able to answer. I will take a look at Miss Huxtable. Are you quite determined to have her?' 'The more I think of it, the more I am in favor of the idea,' he said. 'And will she have you?' his mother asked.
He could not see why not. Miss Huxtable was single and perilously close to being an old maid. He could understand why she had not married before now, though with her looks she must have had offers even in a back-water like Throckbridge. But she had made that promise to her father, and she had kept it. There was no further need to remain with her family now, though. Her two sisters were past girlhood, and Merton would have them for company - and his guardian and eldest sister for neighbors.
Nothing, in fact, could be more convenient - for any of them. 'I believe so,' he said.
His mother leaned forward and touched his hand. 'I shall go and see Miss Huxtable for myself,' she said. 'Tomorrow.' 'Thank you,' he said. 'I would appreciate your opinion, Mama.' 'My opinion,' she said, 'ought not to matter, Elliott. If she is the woman of your choice, you ought to be willing to defy the devil himself if necessary in order to wed her.' She raised her eyebrows as if expecting him to declare an undying passion for Miss Huxtable. He covered her hand with his own and patted it before getting to his feet.
Viscountess Lyngate called at Warren Hall with her daughter the next day.
There was very little warning of their coming.
Stephen came into the library from the steward's office, where he had been ensconced with Mr. Samson, to inform his sisters that Viscount Lyngate's carriage was approaching up the driveway. But there was nothing very remarkable in that. He had said when he left yesterday that he would return frequently. And his business would be with Stephen.
Margaret was examining the housekeeper's books, which Mrs. Forsythe had sent up at her request. Vanessa, having finished writing a letter to Lady Dew and her sisters-in-law, was examining all the leather-bound books on the shelves and thinking that this room was a little like heaven.
And then Katherine came flying up from the stables to announce the approach of the carriage /and /the viscount himself, who was on horseback. 'Whoever can be in the carriage, then?' Margaret asked in some alarm, closing the book on the desk in front of her and running her hands over her hair. 'Oh, my,' Katherine said, looking down at her disheveled self - she had just been having a lesson with one of the grooms. 'His /mother, /do you think?' She dashed off again, presumably to wash her hands and face and make herself more presentable.
Margaret and Vanessa had no such opportunity. They could hear the carriage already drawing to a halt before the doors beyond the window, and then they could hear voices in the hall. Stephen stepped out to greet the new arrivals. And they were indeed the viscountess and her daughter. Viscount Lyngate brought them into the library almost immediately and presented them.
They looked very grand indeed to Vanessa. Their dresses and pelisses and bonnets were obviously in the very height of fashion. She felt instantly transformed into a country mouse and looked reproachfully at the viscount, who might have sent a warning. She was still wearing the apron she had put on over her gray dress as protection against any dust on the bookshelves. Margaret's hair, like her own, was caught up in the simplest of knots and had not been brushed for hours.
He looked back and raised his eyebrows - and it was almost as if she could read his thoughts. True ladies, that disdainful look seemed to say, were always prepared for unexpected visitors during the afternoon. He, of course, was looking as immaculate as ever - and as handsome and virile. 'How kind of you to have called,' Margaret was saying, behaving as if she were quite unruffled. 'Do come up to the drawing room, where we can be more comfortable. Mrs. Forsythe will send tea.' 'I was extremely happy to hear from Elliott that you had
