Sussex Summer Read online

“Thank you for your concern, Miss Hampton, but I feel I shall be able to travel if I go by carriage and take the journey in easy stages,” Edward assured her. He stood up, eager to go now that he had a plan of action.

  “What would I do without your wise counsel Miss Hampton?” he asked, and bent down, taking her hand between his and drawing her up. “I cannot thank you enough,” he added, pressing her fingers warmly.

  Jane’s breath caught in her throat at the tender expression on Edward’s face. Her quiet life as a vicar’s daughter had brought her in contact with few eligible suitors, and most of those few had shown more interest in her beautiful younger sister. But Jane had still dreamed, and now at last, most unexpectedly, it seemed those dreams might turn into reality.

  “Please excuse me if I go without paying my respects to your father and sister. I must organise my journey and be on my way as soon as possible,” the captain continued. “I shall come to see you the moment I return.”

  Jane walked to the gate with Edward, giving up her hand with reluctance when he reached Ariel. She waved him on his way and then returned to the garden bench where she sat for a long time, feeling strangely bereft. A moment ago her heart had been full, now it was empty. What had she done, sending Edward away from her? A feeling of foreboding enveloped her, foreboding that Captain Tremaine was leaving not only the vicinity of Staplefield, but her life. She felt a strange cold certainty that if he left on this journey he would never come back to her. Jane tried to shake the feeling off. It was nonsense; she was just feeling lonely at the thought of not having the captain’s company for a fortnight or so. What could possibly happen to him on a short trip to London?

  Chapter Five

  The couples on the dance floor made their final bow as the strains of the boulanger faded into the London night. Edward knew he should leave his half-hidden position by the windows and solicit the hand of one of the young ladies for the next dance, but he was reluctant to enjoy the gaiety. His health was much improved, but he still lacked the stamina to dance for long without it tiring him. He wished he might return to his hotel, but after Colonel Wentworth’s kindness in assisting him in his efforts to clear Sir John Moore’s name, he could not leave Mrs. Wentworth’s ball so early.

  A frown marred Edward’s expression as he thought of his futile attempts on Sir John’s behalf. Colonel Wentworth had obtained audiences for him with Canning and Castlereagh, but his appeals to them had been to no avail. Castlereagh, the war secretary, had listened politely but had been unhelpful, and as for Canning! Edward had thought, since Castlereagh and Canning, the war minister, were rivals, that Canning would assist him if Castlereagh would not. But Canning seemed to have an actual hatred for Moore. Remembering Sir John’s impatience with inept politicians, Edward imagined that some of the pointed comments in the dispatches sent to London had been directed at the war minister. It would seem Grandville was correct—Sir John had been made a scapegoat for errors of politicians safe at home in London. His frown deepened as he thought of the wrongful blame foisted on as fine a man as his former commander had been.

  “You’re looking blue-devilled, Tremaine. Can’t have that. Permit me to introduce you to a partner for the next dance.”

  Edward erased his frown and turned to his host with a pleasant smile. Colonel Wentworth was in the Household Cavalry, and presented a fine figure in his blue-trimmed red coat, grey trousers, and shining black boots.

  “Forgive me, Colonel. I was thinking of my problems regarding the matter of Sir John.”

  “We’ll work on that later,” the colonel said, taking him by the arm. “Tonight you need to forget your troubles, and I have just the lady to help you accomplish that. Come with me.”

  Edward allowed his host to lead him across the ballroom, concealing his reluctance and bracing himself to do the pretty with whatever insipid young lady to whom he was introduced. The colonel escorted him to a group of chairs by the wall where a young dark-haired woman in yellow sat with an older woman in purple silk.

  “Lady Juliette Blackwood, I should like to present Captain Edward Tremaine, an old acquaintance of mine, as a suitable partner for the next dance,” Colonel Wentworth said with the air of one bestowing a great favour.

  Edward’s reluctance to dance vanished as Lady Juliette Blackwood smiled up at him. She was breathtakingly beautiful—gleaming black hair hung in curls about a delicate oval face, and her pale yellow muslin dress clung to her limbs and outlined a slender figure that was perfection. Long black eyelashes fluttered briefly over deep blue eyes, and her red lips continued to smile as she acknowledged the introduction.

  “Captain Tremaine,” she said, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance. May I present you to my brother, Lord Adrian Blackwood, and my aunt, Lady Martin.”

  Edward bowed to Lord Blackwood, a male version of Lady Juliette standing behind her chair, and kissed the hand of the stern-looking older woman sitting next to Lady Juliette, but he barely saw them and did not register their replies. In a daze, he led Lady Juliette out onto the floor. As they lined up for the country dance, he was suddenly glad he had ordered new coats from Weston upon arriving in Town, and was looking at least passable in new silk knee breeches and a well-fitted coat of claret kerseymere.

  The figures of the dance allowed them little time to converse, and after the dance Edward was reluctant to leave Lady Juliette’s presence without learning more about her. He asked if he could procure some lemonade for the two women, planning to stay and talk while they drank it.

  Lady Juliette was quite willing to converse, and as she sipped her lemonade she asked Edward many questions about his family and their estate in Sussex. He answered her questions gladly, staying with Lady Juliette and her aunt until another partner claimed the younger woman for a country dance. Then, reluctantly recognizing that he had been monopolising Lady Juliette, Edward took his leave, but not before obtaining a promise from her to go for a walk in the Park the next morning.

  The anticipation of seeing Lady Juliette again the next day acted as a tonic on Edward, and he spent the rest of the evening dancing every dance, impervious to fatigue. Mrs. Wentworth declared her husband’s friend was the perfect guest, for he willingly led out even the most unattractive of the young women, and no one languished by the wall.

  In the early hours of the morning Edward returned happily to Stephen’s Hotel in Bond Street, still thinking of the Lady Juliette. She was the kind of woman a man dreamed of but never really thought to meet: beautiful, charming, witty, and, he felt sure, talented in many ways. Now he was sorry he had planned to return to the country next week. Perhaps he could delay his departure.

  At their marginally fashionable address in Marylebone the next morning, Lord Adrian Blackwood spoke with his sister as she waited for Captain Tremaine to collect her for a walk in the Park.

  “Why are you wasting time on a mere Captain Tremaine, my dear?” drawled Adrian, leaning negligently against the fireplace and tapping his gleaming Hessians with his whip. “He is not even well-favoured.”

  Lady Juliette frowned at her brother with irritation.

  “He is heir to a viscountcy, and I have not seen anything better,” she replied, the calculating expression in her eyes looking oddly incongruous with the innocent picture she presented in her fresh white muslin. “His appearance is regrettable, but beggars cannot be choosers.” She looked around the room, viewing the frayed and worn upholstery of the furniture in their rented town house with distaste.

  “You were supposed to find someone suitable for me and haven’t,” she continued, an aggrieved edge to her voice. “If you will not find me a rich husband, I must find one for myself.”

  “That, dear sister, is your doing,” Lord Blackwood replied, yawning lazily. “If you had not spent a night on the road in the company of Lord Crawford last Season you would not have cast doubt upon your reputation. Now men are willing to dance attendance upon your beauty, but won’t come up to scratch.”

  “I told you nothing happ
ened,” Lady Juliette fumed, scowling at her brother. “If Lady Parkenham had not chanced to be at the same inn and seen us having supper together in the private parlour, no one would have been the wiser. Spiteful old cat. She always hated me because I outshone her fusby-faced daughter the year of our come-outs.”

  Lady Juliette frowned at the memories, lines marring the satin smoothness of her forehead, and then changed from defense to attack.

  “If you had not gambled away what little we had, it would not be necessary for me to marry for money. Speaking of marrying for money, why do you not do so yourself?” she demanded with asperity. “Your reputation is even worse, that is why.”

  Lady Juliette paused a moment to glare angrily at her brother, but Lord Blackwood, accustomed to his sister’s temper, merely smiled aggravatingly. She looked away, picking up a Worcester figurine of a lady in blue from the table next to her, turning it over and over in her slender hands.

  “Captain Tremaine will have to do. He is well-to-pass if not wealthy. I intend to coax an invitation to his family’s estate in Sussex when he returns there. London is thin of company in the summer, and I am unlikely to find anyone better at this date. If you do not wish to accompany me, you may join our esteemed father and sister on the Continent. I cannot afford to rent these lodgings for your convenience.”

  Lord Blackwood made no immediate comment. He straightened and walked to the window, pushing aside the grimy draperies with his whip in order to have a better view of the street.

  “I may as well accompany you to Sussex. Perhaps there will be a country heiress who has not heard of my reputation, and you will not have to sacrifice yourself on a mere Captain Tremaine, after all. Here comes your victim now,” he added, letting the draperies fall back into place. “I shall have Aunt join you. You had best work fast while he is bemused by your charms and get him safely back to Sussex before someone enlightens him as to your slightly tarnished reputation.”

  Lord Blackwood exited with a smile at his glaring sister, who clutched the figurine tightly. Only the fact that there was not enough time to clean up the mess before Captain Tremaine was shown into the drawing room kept her from flinging it at her brother’s departing back.

  Jane sighed as she sorted through her father’s voluminous correspondence. Nothing for her amongst it. He had not said he would write, but Jane had harboured hopes that Edward would send her a letter from London while he was there. Surely that would not have been improper, given the friendship between the families and especially between the two of them. It had been fully two weeks since he had left, and there had been no word. Not even Lady Tremaine had heard from him. Jane took the offending letters in to her father, who was so absorbed in his work that he barely noted her presence until she turned to leave.

  “Jane, would you help me with my latest chapter this morning? I need your fair hand for the final copy,” he said flatteringly.

  “I cannot help you this morning. I promised to go riding with Fanny and Lord Staplefield, but I shall have time to make a copy this afternoon,” Jane promised.

  Mr. Hampton looked up from his desk. “Lord Staplefield has become a frequent caller, has he not?”

  “Yes, he has shown a definite interest in Fanny’s company.”

  “Then perhaps it is time Fanny officially ended her betrothal to James Tremaine. Although he has been a frequent caller also, has he not?” Mr. Hampton sighed at the thought of having to disrupt his studies to deal with a family problem. He much preferred his world of books. So much more orderly.

  “Do not fret about Fanny, Papa,” Jane said to allay her father’s worry. “I believe Fanny is quite capable of dealing with both Jamie and Lord Staplefield properly.”

  Pleased to be relieved of his responsibilities so easily, Mr. Hampton picked up his pen and returned to his work.

  “Mind you leave the afternoon free,” he admonished as she left the room.

  “Yes, Papa,” Jane promised. Helping her father with his work more frequently had helped her not to miss Captain Tremaine as much, but it had its disadvantages. The more she assisted her father, the more he required her presence.

  She was on her way upstairs when she heard Fanny’s voice calling after her.

  “Jane, hurry and get dressed or you will not be ready when Lord Staplefield arrives.”

  “I am on my way now,” Jane answered, turning to her sister, who stood at the bottom of the stairs watching her anxiously. Fanny looked extremely fetching in her new carriage dress of apricot muslin, and Jane was certain her efforts would not be wasted upon Lord Staplefield. She nodded at her sister reassuringly and hurried upstairs to change into her own new carriage dress.

  As she quickly dressed herself, Jane reflected that one thing she had to be grateful for lately was Fanny’s rapid return to health. Her sister seemed to have finally come to terms with her changed appearance. No doubt the attention she was receiving from her three admirers had a great deal to do with it. Jamie and Christopher called frequently, and Jane was amused by Jamie’s sudden willingness to keep up the pretense of the betrothal. He acted quite possessively of Fanny, glaring at Chris when he was present and sulking when Lord Staplefield appeared. Fanny seemed to accept Jamie’s presence with equanimity, however. Jane wondered what her sister was planning to do about the betrothal. Fanny might well wish to be free to receive more serious attentions from Christopher Archer or Lord Staplefield.

  But Fanny’s full social life also made Jane feel the lack of her own. She had become accustomed to the daily visits from Edward, and life was sadly flat with him gone. Playing chaperone to her sister was not the same as having her company sought for itself.

  “Jane, Lord Staplefield is here. Make haste,” Fanny’s voice called. Jane grabbed a bonnet from the shelf of her wardrobe and hurried down the stairs, trying to throw off her melancholy lest she be a poor companion for the other two.

  The sisters exited the cottage and Jane and smiled charmingly at Lord Staplefield as he stood beside his carriage to hand them up.

  The earl was assisting Jane into the carriage while his groom held the horses when a second equipage drew up, driven by Jamie. It was a fashionable perch phaeton in a glossy orange lacquer drawn by matched chestnuts caparisoned in rosettes and ribbons. Jamie himself was dressed to the nines in a canary coat, pea-green pantaloons, purple waistcoat and a white neckcloth.

  “I say, Fanny,” he called, looking at Lord Staplefield’s old-fashioned carriage in disparagement, “I was going to take you on a drive today.”

  “I am sorry, Jamie, I do not recall your asking me,” Fanny replied, as Jane settled herself on the seat of Lord Staplefield’s carriage.

  “Jane may go with Lord Staplefield and you shall come with me,” Jamie insisted as Jane settled herself on the leather squabs and the earl held his hand out to assist Fanny into the carriage.

  Jane saw Fanny hesitate, uncertain what to do. Should Fanny refuse, it would look odd to those watching from behind the curtains of the village cottages, since Jamie was officially still her betrothed. But Jane knew Fanny would much prefer to go with Lord Staplefield.

  Lord Staplefield sensed her dilemma, and said in a low voice, “It is no matter, Miss Fanny Hampton. Go with Mr. Tremaine now and I shall take you driving tomorrow.”

  “You are the winner this morning, Tremaine,” the earl said pleasantly as he helped Fanny into the phaeton, but Jamie rudely turned his head away and made no reply.

  Fanny watched in envy as the earl drove off with Jane. “Really, Jamie, that was beyond anything. I had a commitment to the earl,” she said with irritation.

  “It’s not the thing for you to be driving out with other men when you are betrothed to me,” Jamie responded truculently as he flicked the reins and the phaeton moved forward.

  Fanny looked at him measuringly. “I am not betrothed to you, as you well know.”

  “Well, others don’t know, and it looks deuced shabby for you to be receiving so much attention from other men,” Jamie l
ectured as his chestnuts began to pick up speed.

  Fanny’s temper began to rise at this dressing down. “I think it is time we officially ended our betrothal. Then you can have no objections to my behaviour.”

  “Don’t fly up into the boughs so.” Jamie turned to look at Fanny and said almost hesitantly, “I’ve been meaning to say, Fan, we needn’t end the betrothal at all. We could go on as before.”

  Fanny was so angry at Jamie’s assumption that she would care to continue her betrothal to him after his treatment of her that she opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought when she caught a fleeting glimpse of the old Jamie in the boyish face. Her anger died, and she answered mildly.

  “No, Jamie, we cannot go on as before. It is not possible after what has passed between us.”

  “Are you going to hold that against a fellow forever?” Jamie pleaded. “I had had a shock.”

  Fanny did not try to explain that her appearance when she was ill should not have revolted him if he had loved her. Shocked him perhaps, but not caused him to end their betrothal.

  “I think it best we end it, Jamie,” she repeated.

  “I know what it is,” he said sullenly, flicking the horses lightly with his whip to increase their speed. “You’re hoping to snabble the earl. An earl’s much better than the younger son of a viscount. Why else would you see so much of that…that macaroni.”

  Fanny knew it was Jamie’s wounded vanity speaking, but the benevolent feeling toward him she had just experienced vanished entirely.

  “Don’t you dare speak to me that way,” she ordered as the phaeton careened on at a faster and faster pace. “Not after your Turkish treatment of me when I was ill. I want the betrothal ended now.”

  “I refuse!” Jamie shouted in reply, whipping up the horses until the phaeton swayed dangerously going around a curve, forcing Fanny to hold on for dear life or be thrown from the vehicle.

  “What are you trying to do, cause us to overturn?” Fanny shouted, bringing Jamie back to his senses, and he slowed his team.