скачать книгу бесплатно
He continued. ‘Nor do I think the elder Miss Summoner actually possesses the facility to dominate the man who marries her.’ This last was not totally true. But the fact that he could imagine himself stripped bare and defenceless from a single glance might be nothing more than his own fears of the unhappy past repeating itself.
‘If that is so, then there is no problem at all,’ Templeton said, smiling. ‘You seem to feel more than confident of controlling her. Though you do not wish to marry for love or passion, you admit you find her at least marginally attractive. If you wish a connection to Lord Summoner by marrying his daughter, Miss Amelia should be no different than Miss Arabella.’
Why not?
When presented with such a logical argument, he could not immediately think of an answer. Then he remembered the lemonade stain on his best waistcoat and the possibility of future social occasions marred by such accidents. If he wished to be thought unshakable, he could not attach himself to a woman who was constantly rattling his calm and spoiling his appearance. ‘Only an idiot would pretend that the two Summoner daughters are interchangeable. Everyone in London admires the younger of the two. The elder is so far on the shelf that I did not even know of her existence. There is also the fact that I am seeking a wife who will be the picture of decorum and not an awkward wallflower. Belle Summoner glides through a room like a swan. And her sister...’ He stared down at his ruined waistcoat.
Templeton laughed. ‘You truly think that spill was an accident? My dear fellow, for all your polish, you are too naïve to survive the ladies of London.’
‘Whatever do you mean?’
‘Simply that if you come to Almack’s and hide in the corner rather than standing up for a set, an interested female will try to get your attention by any means possible.’
This horrifying thought had not occurred to him. ‘You think that...’
‘She is smitten with you,’ Templeton finished for him.
‘And she did that on purpose to win my favour.’ If that was true, then women truly were mad.
‘There can be no other explanation for it. She fancies you. Since she is without prospects, I am sure Summoner will be all the more grateful to you for taking her off his hands.’ Templeton clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Go to him now and claim your prize.’
‘I cannot go to him looking like this,’ Ben said absently, staring across the room towards the woman who had attacked him. Could that have been the meaning of that glint in her eye? He had been sure there was some ulterior motive in her actions. But he’d have sworn it had less to do with marriage than a desire to unravel him like a fraying tapestry. ‘I do not want to marry Miss Amelia,’ he said, annoyed. He should not need to say those words aloud to clarify his intentions. If she was a spinster, the room was full of men who did not want her.
Templeton gave him a pitying look. ‘You want Belle, as does every other man in London. But you have lost before you’ve begun, dear fellow. If you break her sister’s heart with your indifference, Belle will have nothing to do with you. Women are like that, you know. They love each other more than they will ever love us.’
‘Break her heart? I did nothing of the sort. I gave no indication that I was interested in her.’ Unless she had seen something in the look he had given her. It had been but a glance, but it had seemed overlong, as if he had become lost in her eyes and needed to fight to get free.
‘Of course not, Lovell.’ The smirk on Templeton’s face revealed the mockery in his assuring words. ‘But I suggest you let Miss Amelia down as gently as possible. Then find another man she can affix herself to. If not, when you marry Belle, you will end with Amy Summoner permanently ensconced in your home, mooning over your lost love.’
Chapter Three (#u26384673-23c1-538c-b181-6340826a0f65)
The next morning, Amy came down to her father’s study, her list of prospective suitors in hand. In the matter of her sister’s courtship and marriage, things were moving far too fast. The Season had barely begun, and total strangers like Benjamin Lovell were already mapping out Belle’s future. The laissez-faire attitude that their father was bringing to a match might be acceptable for some girls, but not for Belle.
She rapped on the closed door and let herself in without waiting for an answer, then seated herself in the big leather chair in front of his desk.
Her father hardly looked up from his papers. ‘You wish to speak to me, Amelia?’
‘I wish to discuss last night’s visit to Almack’s.’
‘I trust you both found it enjoyable.’ The statement was a courtesy, nothing more. She could sense no real interest in it. Instead, there was the unspoken feeling that, since the fate of England hung on every decision he might make, Lord Summoner had no time for trivialities.
‘Belle enjoyed it,’ she said. ‘I found it much the same as I always do.’
He sighed. ‘Meaning you only bothered with it for your sister’s sake. It is no wonder that you are not married. You make no effort.’
‘I am not married because I found no one I could stand to spend a lifetime with,’ she said, for what felt like the hundredth time.
‘It is fortunate for me that your sister is not so particular.’ He signed the document he had been reading and shook sand over the wet ink before setting it aside.
‘Belle loves everyone. She does not know how to be particular,’ Amy said. ‘It will be up to us to choose wisely for her.’
‘Us?’ Her father looked up, fixing her with a quelling stare that she had long since learned to ignore.
‘To that end,’ she said, ‘I took the time to evaluate the gentlemen at last night’s ball, grading them according to their suitability.’ She pushed the list across the desk to the empty space his documents had occupied.
He pushed it back without looking at it. ‘You are overstepping yourself if you think to choose your sister’s husband instead of your own.’
She could not help an unladylike snort. ‘We have made progress, then. When I was actively searching, you were under the impression that the choice was yours alone.’
He sighed. ‘And so it ought to have been. When your mother died, I allowed you far too much latitude and now I must pay the price for it.’
It was the way he chose to remember the past. When Mother died, he had not allowed or denied anything. He had simply gone to London and forgotten all about his daughters. ‘It is fortunate that Arabella is more obedient,’ she said.
‘It is,’ he agreed, taking no notice of the sarcasm in her voice.
Amy paused until she was sure that she had full control of her temper. ‘I will admit that I have not been the sort of daughter you deserved. I am headstrong and wilful, but it does not mean I love you any less. Belle loves you as well. But we both know that she is not like other young ladies. It is why we must take care to protect her from those who might take advantage.’
Her father reached for another paper, nearly upsetting the inkwell in his eagerness to occupy his hands and mind with something other than the truth. ‘Nonsense. If you did not coddle her so, there would be no problem. Perhaps I should have remarried. Then you would not have taken it upon yourself to mother her and she would have tried harder to catch up.’
‘She tries very hard already,’ Amy said, reaching out to touch her father’s hand. ‘And yet, there are many things she cannot manage. The doctors told you that her birth was difficult for both mother and child.’
‘She was stronger than your mother,’ he said stubbornly. ‘Arabella survived.’
‘But not unaffected,’ Amy reminded him. ‘She has always been slow to learn and easily confused.’
‘She has as much wit as a woman needs to make a wife.’
‘By that, I suppose you mean she has two arms, two legs and a smile,’ she snapped.
‘Her mother’s smile,’ he said reverently.
‘She is beautiful,’ Amy agreed, equally awed. It was as if God had given Belle a final blessing as he took her mother and her wits.
‘And a pleasant disposition as well,’ her father added. ‘She is a sweet child, is she not?’
‘Because we have never given her reason to be otherwise,’ Amy reminded him. ‘We have done all in our power to protect her. And we help her in those situations that she could not manage on her own.’ The word we was an exaggeration. But it would gain her nothing to antagonise her father.
‘Her life will not change so very much,’ Lord Summoner said. ‘I will find some young buck from a good family, with a decent fortune and a nice house. She will live in comfort for the rest of her life. And you will be free to do as you wish with your future, without troubling yourself over her.’
‘I do not trouble myself,’ Amy argued. ‘Well, not exactly.’ It was sometimes difficult to have someone so dependent upon her. But it was even more difficult to think of Belle struggling without her. ‘I love her,’ she insisted. ‘I help her when she needs it, because I want her to be happy.’
‘Then you must not stand in the way of the marriage I will arrange for her.’ Her father reached for another letter, breaking its wax seal with a swipe of his finger. It was a definitive gesture, meant to put an end to her argument.
Amy ignored it. ‘An arranged marriage might be fine for some girls. But suppose her husband looks no further than her last name and does not understand that she cannot help the way she is?’
‘He will find out, in time,’ her father said. ‘And by then, it will be too late to do anything about it.’
‘You do not mean to explain?’ Now Father sounded almost as heartless as Mr Lovell.
‘An intelligent man will find it out for himself before he offers,’ her father replied with another warning rattle of papers. ‘If he does not, he will understand that marriages are negotiated contracts, no different than all other business. No human being is perfect. Both sides must balance advantages against defects before coming to an agreement.’
In her father’s mind, the Summoner name had more than enough weight to balance the heaviest of problems. It was a shame that he did not want to marry Mr Lovell himself. They were well matched, since neither of them cared a fig for the feelings of the girl they would be bargaining over. ‘Suppose the husband you choose does not love her as we do?’
‘Love is not necessary before marriage. It might grow in time, of course.’ When he looked up from his work, his expression was distant. ‘I grew to be quite fond of your mother. Her loss was a blow from which I have yet to recover.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Mutual respect is a satisfactory basis for a relationship and far less painful for all parties involved.’
If that was his opinion, then the odious Mr Lovell was exactly the sort of son-in-law he was seeking. But how would she explain the abstract notions of a loveless union to her sister? ‘It sounds very sensible. If we were discussing my courtship, I might be swayed. Belle is different. She will be happier in a match where there is mutual affection.’
‘A romance, do you mean?’ he responded with a condescending smile to remind her that, in comparison to a man, both his daughters were idiots. ‘The fellow you are hoping for does not exist, Amelia. You have already admitted that your sister is unusual. We love her because we are her family. Others are not likely to be so charitable. Her future husband will require the inducements I am prepared to offer to overlook her deficiencies. It will not help her or any of us if you fill her head with nonsense.’
‘It is not nonsense to want to love and be loved in return,’ she said, wanting with all her heart to believe that was true.
Her father sighed. ‘So you told me when you refused the offers put to you in your own Season. Now you seek to make a failure of your sister’s come out.’ He shook his head in disappointment. ‘I did not think you so selfish, Amelia.’
‘I am not selfish,’ she insisted. ‘I want what is best for her. If she weds, she will still need looking after. If you mean to choose a husband without a care to her feelings, it will be up to me to help her adjust to her new life and to console her should it all go wrong.’
His eyes narrowed, as if her words had only confirmed his opinion. ‘I suspect your coddling the girl has caused most of her problems. When she does not have you to support her, she will learn to stand on her own, quick enough.’
‘She will not because she cannot.’ And thus they arrived at the usual sticking point. Discussions of Belle’s difficulties always ended with her father refusing to believe they could not be solved by more effort on Belle’s part and less interference on Amy’s. ‘This has nothing to do with desire to meddle in her future. She needs someone to care for her, Father. She always has. It is why I did not marry and why I intend to live in her household, after she weds. She needs me.’
Lord Summoner passed a hand over his brow to shield himself from feminine logic. ‘It is one thing to play the spinster, Amelia, and quite another to actually become one. If you seriously think to follow her into her new household, I will have to find one man willing to take responsibility for both daughters. You are making my job twice as difficult.’
‘Good,’ she said, raising her chin in defiance. ‘It will give me time to find her a man who truly understands her.’
‘If the situation is as dire as you claim, then perhaps I should find a nurse for her and a husband for you.’ It was a reasonable suggestion, but his cynical smile as he spoke revealed his true feelings in the matter. ‘Since you have spent years ruining all chances for your own marriage that is now quite impossible. In any case, know that I cannot die leaving two unmarried daughters to fend for themselves.’
‘Since you are not near to death, we hardly need to worry about it,’ she pointed out, unwilling to respond to the bait he set for her.
‘And you are not the head of the family, though you seem to think you can act thus. The final decision on Belle’s future is mine and mine alone. She will be married by Season’s end and your approval of my choice is not required or appreciated.’
He stood to indicate the interview was at an end, leaving her little choice but to leave the study, return to her room and plan her counter-attack.
Chapter Four (#u26384673-23c1-538c-b181-6340826a0f65)
The difficult morning discussion was followed by an afternoon too beautiful to stay indoors. If Amy wished to circumvent her father’s plans, there was no better place to spend it than on Rotten Row, where anyone of importance took to horse or carriage to see and be seen by the rest of the ton.
Belle was seated on her gentle, brown mare, looking her best in a bright blue riding habit with a tall hat dressed in lace. With hair of spun gold and eyes as blue as a summer sky, there was none to compare to her.
It was a shame.
As she did, each time the thought crossed her mind, Amy felt guilty and silently enumerated a few more of Belle’s virtues. She was kind and loving. She was loyal and had a gentle heart. In comparison to all that, did her deficiencies amount to so much?
‘I like to ride,’ Belle said. Her hands stroked the horse’s mane.
‘As do I, dear,’ Amy agreed and adjusted her own grip on her sister’s reins to better lead her horse. ‘Did you have a nice time at Almack’s last night?’
‘Yes,’ Belle replied. ‘I like to dance.’
‘Did you speak with anyone of interest?’ she probed gently.
As she tried to form an answer, Belle’s smile dimmed. Thoughts flitted across her face like clouds. Then she smiled again. ‘I danced every dance.’
‘But with no gentleman more than once, I hope.’ She had kept a close watch on Belle’s dance card to prevent any partner from monopolising her time. But Belle, Lord bless her, was exceptionally easy to trick.
‘I danced every dance,’ she repeated, still smiling.
‘You did, indeed,’ Amy said, sighing.
‘Will there be dancing at the wedding?’
‘What wedding, dear?’
‘My wedding.’ There was much that her little sister did not understand. But she had grasped the main purpose of the Season. It was left to Amy to help her with the details.
‘Weddings are held in the morning, Belle. There will be a breakfast, not a ball.’
‘Oh.’
‘But we must be sure that your husband likes to dance as much as you do.’
Belle nodded, satisfied. ‘Who is he?’
‘Your husband?’ It had been too much to hope that Belle could understand her need to participate in the process of choosing such the man. ‘We do not know as yet. We cannot choose just any man. We are looking for someone whose company you enjoy. Is there anyone you particularly liked last evening?’
‘I liked the dancing,’ she repeated again. ‘And I liked all the boys who danced with me.’
Good-hearted soul that she was, Belle liked them all equally. Amy sighed again. ‘I am making a list of gentlemen who might be good husbands. I have talked to Father about them.’ And enough said about that, since there was no point in spoiling this conversation with the truth. ‘We will find someone who loves you as much as we do.’
‘Someone who likes to dance,’ Belle added.
‘Most definitely,’ Amy agreed.
‘And who likes dogs,’ Belle added.
‘Definitely,’ Amy agreed. In her experience, all men loved dogs. Unfortunately, it was often a matter of like being drawn to like. ‘But if there is any man you meet who likes dogs and dancing, and who you favour above others, you must tell us of him, immediately.’
‘Everyone was nice to me,’ Belle said, her smile as bright as ever. If she had a current favourite, she gave no indication of it. On their next outing, Amy would need to watch carefully for any signs of a preference that could be guided into something more.
For now, she must pay attention to the horses. She gave a gentle pull on the reins to slow them so they did not overtake two gentlemen who were stopped on the path ahead. Instead of resuming their ride as the girls approached, the men turned their mounts to look back at them.
In front of them, blocking their way, was the person she least wanted Belle to meet. Mr Lovell rode a dapple-grey stallion every bit as perfect as he was. And as usual, he was the picture of masculine perfection. He sat the horse as if he’d been born in its saddle. His hacking jacket and breeches stretched over muscles that he had not got from leisurely rides in Hyde Park. Rich, handsome and athletic.
She must stop ogling him and remember that he had designs on her sister. That meant he was also as loathsome as the snake in Eden. Amy sighed in frustration. She could not very well cut him without risk of offending Mr Templeton, who figured prominently on her list of acceptable suitors. It was a shame that such a fine gentleman had such horrible taste in friends.
‘Miss Summoner. Miss Arabella.’ Mr Templeton tipped his hat and gave them a smile that was soft and welcoming.
‘Mr Templeton,’ Amy replied with a smile and ignored the other man.
Beside her, she could sense Belle’s confusion.
