Complications (14 page)

AS SOON AS they left the drawing room, Amelia wished she
had not agreed to accompany Mr Wrackley. She felt uncomfortable with him and
angry about the way he had vanished without a word to her. However, her
conversation with Lottie on the matter had convinced her she ought to hear what
he wanted to say and then see how she felt about him. If she was supposed to do
this then she was making a poor start as all she could think about was the uneasy
expression she had seen on Mr Brightford’s face when they had left.

They walked out into the garden and Mr
Wrackley at once turned to her. “Miss Daventry, I owe you the deepest of
apologies and an explanation of my behaviour in Edinburgh.”

Not wanting to hear Mr Brightford’s
disparaging words about her again, she hastily said, “I have been made aware
that you heard ill of my character.”

“I should never have listened,” he said. “When
we met I felt the greatest admiration for your character and beauty. I should
have trusted my feelings instead of listening to… to anyone else.”

“In Edinburgh I liked your company a great
deal but a lot has happened since then…”

“I heard about your father,” he
interrupted, frowning. “I cannot bear to think that my behaviour made your
grief after his death even more painful. I am so sorry.”

She could tell he was speaking sincerely
and was glad, after all, that she had heard him. However, her previous feelings
for him still failed to reappear. “I accept your apology but, as I was saying,
a lot has changed. I do not feel that I am the same person I was then and I do
not wish to mislead you.”

“Then can we begin again as if we had just
met?”

“Certainly,” she agreed with relief.

They returned to the drawing room where the
curiosity on everyone’s faces that they were unable to express was almost
comical. Amelia avoided looking at Mr Brightford, feeling guilty which was
ridiculous. She had just talked to Mr Wrackley. Nothing more. Besides, she had
no idea if Mr Brightford genuinely did have any interest in her; his
expressions were so difficult to read.

The conversation continued for another half
hour or so then the gentlemen headed outside to do some shooting.

Amelia and Lottie managed to escape from
Mrs Gallerton and, the moment they were alone in Amelia’s room, Lottie asked,
“What happened with Mr Wrackley?”

“He apologised and I accepted. We were both
very polite…”

“Then your feelings for him are gone?”

Amelia was not sure how her saying they had
been polite had conveyed her lack of interest in Mr Wrackley but since that was
the truth she did not question it. Lottie knew her better than anyone. “I
believe so. I still look at him and find him attractive but it does not touch
my heart as it did before.”

“I think you should give yourself a bit of
time,” Lottie said, sitting on the bed. “You are still grieving for your father
and that is bound to affect your emotions.”

“I certainly feel muddle-headed.”

“Then put it from your mind for the moment.
You have several weeks here to get to know both Mr Wrackley and Mr Brightford
and see how you feel.”

“And how he- they feel.”

* * *

Mr Brightford cared nothing for her.

That was the opinion she had formed several
days later. He had made no effort to seek out her company. If he did run into
her he was polite but nothing more than that. Once again it seemed that she had
made a fool of herself.

This humiliation was reduced by Mr Wrackley’s
frequent presence. At least he thought highly of her, even if he had not
consistently done so. But she could understand why he had put faith in the
words of Mr Brightford, whom he had known for a great deal longer than he had
known her, so she was willing to trust him again. Any fond feelings, however, failed
to re-emerge.

“It is as if something inside me wants me
to be miserable,” she told Lottie angrily as they walked along a path in the
wood behind the house. “I want Mr Wrackley who then vanishes. Then I want Mr
Brightford, who has never had the tiniest interest in me. Then Mr Wrackley is
in my life again but I do not want him after all.”

“You cannot make decisions that will last
the rest of your life after a few days,” Lottie insisted. “Forget about both of
them for a while.”

“I cannot when they are both constantly
right in front of me!”

* * *

Brightford had never been so vexed in his
life.

He was trying to give Miss Daventry time
alone with Wrackley but all his instincts were yelling at him to fight to win
her for himself.

He had no idea how the courtship was
progressing and could hardly ask either of its participants. Not that he wanted
to know. Unless it was not progressing, which he would love to know.

“You look in a devil of a mood,” a voice
told him and he glanced round to see Harrington approaching, for once alone.

“It is your Nathan’s fault for putting the
idea in my head that I should court Miss Daventry.”

“Well, it would seem stupid not to when you
are in love with her,” Harrington said easily, coming to lean his arms on the
fence in front of them and watch the horses within.

“Then I suppose I am a fool,” he ground
out. “It is a matter of honour.”

“Then she will probably spurn both of you
and find someone else entirely.”

Brightford glared at him. “Do you not have
somewhere else you need to be?”

Harrington shook his head, expression
innocent save for an amused glint in his eyes.

“I BELIEVE YOU have behaved like a cad, sir,” Wrackley
told Brightford stiffly.

They were outside the house but there were
enough grooms and other workers about that Brightford headed further away so
they would not be overheard talking. Clearly he had been wrong when he believed
that Wrackley held no ill-will towards him anymore, but being called a cad
seemed an extreme reaction.

“I have apologised to both you and Miss
Daventry for what I said to you…”

“I do not doubt that,” Wrackley
interrupted, clearly wound up. “You could not have made your interest more
plain.”

“My what?” They had neared a field
containing several horses and one trotted up to the fence to look them over.

“Do not pretend with me, Brightford. You
put me off Miss Daventry so you could court her yourself.”

“No, I did not,” he answered, stung that
someone he had always considered a friend could believe him capable of such a
thing. “I believed what I said at the time and only found out later that I had
been wrong.”

“You cannot tell me that you do not have
feelings for her?”

“No, I cannot, but I have done my best to
keep my distance from her because you might have been engaged to her by now had
I not interfered.”

“I see.” Wrackley looked uncomfortable. He
bent down a picked a handful of grass which he held out to the sorrel mare. After
a moment she approached and took it from him. “I apologise. I spoke like a
fool.”

“Yes, well, you are in love. I believe
acting like a fool is a requirement of the condition.”

Wrackley laughed and stroked the sorrel’s
nose. “This is an awkward situation.”

“Not at all. I believe the lady is in love
with you and you with her. It seems very simple.”

“I am not so sure of her feelings. Besides,
I want Miss Daventry to want me alone. She cannot choose me if there is no
choice.”

“I am not following you.”

“You should court her too and let her
decide for herself who she wants. That way we will both know that the man she
finally chooses is who she really wants.”

Brightford nodded. A fair fight was all he
wanted. “Agreed.”

* * *

“Mr Wrackley will be an excellent husband
for you,” Mrs Gallerton said in a satisfied tone as if she was somehow
responsible for this interest.

Amelia exchanged a glance with her mother
and said, “Mr Wrackley has not asked me to marry him and even if he did I am not
certain I would accept.

“I thought you liked him,” her mother said,
clearly having thought that Amelia was happy to be courted by Mr Wrackley.

Mrs Gallerton simultaneously made an
annoyed sound which Amelia ignored, saying, “I do like him but I am not sure
that that is enough.”

“It is an excellent match,” Mrs Gallerton
insisted, adopting the firm tone that never failed to annoy Amelia, “and I know
the state of your family’s finances. When he asks you must accept him.”

Amelia took a deep breath and said as
calmly as she was able, “I believe that is my decision, Aunt.”

“If you turn him down then you will be
responsible for your family’s ruin and do not expect me to support you both.”

“We expect nothing of the kind,” Mrs
Daventry said to her. “If Amelia does not marry Mr Wrackley then we will
manage. He is not the only man in the world and she is still a young girl.”

“Hmm.” Mrs Gallerton looked angrily from
one to the other of them, her glare settling on Amelia. “If you are holding out
for Mr Brightford then you are wasting your time. He clearly has no intention
of being caught.”

Amelia put down her book and excused
herself. She left the house and kept walking as fast as she could until she was
out of breath and the house was the size of a toy behind her. Even worse than
her hopes being so transparent was the suspicion that Mrs Gallerton was
correct.

AMELIA HAD slept badly the previous night and by the end
of it was convinced that Mr Brightford had no interest in her at all. Therefore,
to come down to breakfast and find him determined to sit at her side and
converse solely with her was more confusing than pleasant, particularly when Mrs
Gallerton kept glaring at her as if she were flirting outrageously with him
rather than politely answering his inquiries.

“It is a shame that you will not be able to
dance at the ball tonight,” he said, referring of course to the fact Amelia and
her mother were in mourning. It was Mr Wrackley who was hosting the ball on his
estate.

“Yes,” she agreed, aware that Mrs Gallerton
was listening to every word with narrowed eyes. “However, I find that balls
also give a good opportunity to converse with new people.”

“Only with new people?” he asked with mock
concern.

“Indeed,” she said, equally lightly. “I
will certainly not wish to talk to anyone I know.”

He laughed and Mrs Gallerton’s glower
deepened. “Then I must make the most of the chance to speak with you while I am
allowed.”

“Perhaps you might extend the
conversation,” Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge suggested with a smile. “Harrington and I
were just saying that today looks set to be a brief return to balmy weather
before the autumn arrives. We thought that anyone who wishes might care to join
us for a short walk followed by a picnic.”

The rest of the group, including Amelia,
agreed to this.

* * *

“You do believe that Mr Brightford has
serious intentions towards Amelia, do you not?” Lottie asked her fiancé as they
left the house to join the others. “His interest does not always seem
constant.”

“I believe he loves her but he has not
spoken of it to me. I thought she preferred Mr Wrackley?”

“If he had not vanished from Edinburgh
without a word then I am sure she would have accepted a proposal from him. When
he left her father died and her life grew a lot more complicated. Mr Brightford
was there when others, including myself, were not.”

“So she loves Jolly?”

“I think that if she knew how he felt she
would be able to make up her mind.”

“The same argument could be used for him,”
he offered. “Perhaps we should leave it to them to resolve.”

Lottie could not be satisfied with this. She
remembered how much she had suffered from Mr Saverney’s treatment and now
Amelia was in a slightly similar position. Neither Mr Wrackley nor Mr
Brightford were consistently affectionate for long enough for Amelia to be sure
either one would propose. Lottie was worried for her friend, particularly when
she was still grieving for her father. The men were not being fair to her and
Lottie did not want to see her hurt.

* * *

“What a lovely estate you have,” Mrs
Gallerton said to Mr Wrackley. “Any woman would be lucky indeed to be mistress
of such a home.” She threw a meaningful look at Miss Daventry who gave a polite
smile but flushed uncomfortably at the pointed comment.

Mr Brightford had been worried that the
ball here might charm Miss Daventry into looking more favourably upon Wrackley,
but as the evening’s entertainments began he started to hope it might have the
opposite effect. Wrackley, after all, could not dance with Miss Daventry because
she was in mourning but he was duty bound to dance with other ladies, which
kept him away from her for much of the time.

He could also see that Mrs Gallerton’s many
unsubtle comments were having the opposite of their desired effect and
irritating Miss Daventry. The more Mrs Gallerton spoke the less Miss Daventry seemed
to want to be here or spend time with Wrackley. Thank goodness Brightford had
fallen for a woman with such a delightfully contrary nature.

Brightford had spent enough time staying
with his cousins that he knew around half of the three dozen people at the
ball, the group easily fitting into the grand ballroom, so he was caught up in
answering enquiries about his health and about Edinburgh for some time. He
avoided dancing, though, as there was only one lady he wanted to stand up with
and that was impossible this evening. Also, he would not want her to see him
dancing with someone else and think his attentions fickle; there had been
enough disagreements and misunderstandings between them.

After a couple of hours Brightford saw Mrs
Gallerton distracted by an introduction to another of the neighbourhood’s
families, so he headed quickly to Miss Daventry’s side. “It is growing rather
stuffy with so many people here,” he commented. “Would you and Miss Harrington
care to take a stroll outside. I believe the gardens are quite picturesque in
the moonlight.”

Miss Daventry glanced at Miss Harrington who
gave a slight shrug that left the decision up to her. Miss Daventry gave him a
bright smile that knocked the breath clean out of his body. “That would be
lovely.”

They headed out, Alex joining them, and
Brightford caught a glare from Wrackley. Well, the man had said it was up to Miss
Daventry to choose between them. It was a fair fight now and one Brightford was
determined to win for the sake of his own future happiness.

“Oh, how beautiful,” Miss Harrington
exclaimed as she saw the gardens brightened by a full moon and lit with dozens
of lanterns.

“It is like magic,” Miss Daventry said.

Brightford had never seen the expression of
wonder on her face before and smiled, touched. Miss Harrington took Alex’s arm
and Miss Daventry took his as they strolled round. A few other couples or
groups were doing the same but otherwise, after the noise and movement in the
hall, the evening was still and peaceful. They even heard the hoot of a nearby
owl.

Brightford let the setting inspire him,
sharing light banter with Miss Daventry and offering her several compliments. When
they returned to Alex’s home in the early hours of the morning he believed he
had made a positive impression – hopefully helping to dismiss from her mind
their earlier quarrels – and he was satisfied that Miss Daventry could not fail
to understand his intentions.