The Season by Sophia Holloway

Author:Sophia Holloway
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Allison & Busby
Published: 2021-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Henrietta slept much better, and rose earlier. It was she who went to her cousin’s chamber, and sat in the window seat, looking at Caroline, night cap askew and rubbing her eyes, and said the one word.

‘Well?’

‘Oh.’ Caroline paused, then a slow smile spread across her face. ‘He told you, then.’

‘He did.’ Henrietta pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, in a manner worthy of a Siddons, and declared, ‘My own hopes dashed, Caroline! How could you?’ She then ruined the effect by laughing. ‘Sweet cousin, I wish you every happiness.’

‘Thank you. Henrietta, he is the most … I am so fortunate to … yet I am still afraid that …’

‘Love has robbed you of the ability to complete a sentence? Yes, it is rather worrying.’

‘I wish it were but that.’ Caroline’s smile faded. ‘I am so happy, and yet I fear that our mutual affection will not be able to overcome parental prejudice.’

‘Lord Martley told me of that, although that encounter at the exhibition showed the state of affairs between Lady Pirbright and your mama. But Caroline, would she persuade my uncle to withhold his permission, if your happiness were at stake?’

‘If I had not seen the depth of their antipathy, I would say she would not, Henrietta, but … whatever lies between them is an unbridgeable gulf.’

‘If it is as it looks, one wonders what on earth could occasion such long-standing loathing. I have not been told to keep my distance; in fact, his name is probably on the List.’

‘The List?’ Caroline looked bemused, and Henrietta coloured.

‘Er, you know your mama loves her lists, Caroline. I am sure she has lists for us too, lists of acceptable suitors, and such.’ Henrietta did not want to actually admit to having seen such a list, and tried to sound vague.

‘Well, if she has one, every other name must be crossed off, because I cannot, cannot imagine marrying anyone else. If they keep us apart I shall rather end an old maid.’ Caroline sounded defiant.

‘We must hope it will not come to that, and indeed work towards your goal. Caroline, could you not speak with your papa, and explain your situation? He is not unreasonable, and …’

‘He will say that he will consult Mama, I am sure of it.’

‘You do not know until you have tried, dear cousin.’

‘Then I must be brave.’

With this resolve, Caroline rang for her maid, but, having screwed up her courage, found that her father had gone to his club, and wandered so listlessly about the house that Lady Elstead asked her if she felt quite well, and as the day wore on the courage dwindled to nothing.

In the cold light of day, or, more accurately, the cool dark of a very early summer morning, Lord Martley’s optimistic attitude dimmed. What Miss Gaydon said made sense, and yet, facing Mama was not something done lightly, not without summoning up one’s courage to an almost Shakespearean level. Lord Martley would have been the first to admit he was no Henry V.

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