Chapter 4
“Is your father not expecting you back at Sandford today?” Hector Hanover said as the two men enjoyed a very late breakfast in one another’s company.
“Oh yes,” James replied languidly as he took another piece of the perfectly crisp, well-cooked bacon. “Do you know, my father has the cook barely warm the bacon at Sandford. Really, I struggle to eat the stuff. It seems like a different food altogether here at Hanover Hall.”
“Yes, I remember breakfast at your father’s table, my dear fellow,” Hector said and winced in a way that amused James greatly. “But tell me, are you to stay on with me today?”
“Yes, if you do not mind it.” James chewed thoughtfully.
“Of course I do not mind. I am always pleased to have you here, and we shall at least be able to talk a little easier now that the other guests have departed.” He smiled happily. “But you know me, my dear fellow, and I do like to know the circumstances of everything. So tell me, why are you lurking here when your father expects you back?”
“I am lurking here, my dear Hector because my father expects me back.” James laughed.
“I had a feeling you might say that.” Hector was further amused. “Will you never tire of vexing the Duke? Really, he must be furious with you at times.”
“He is almost always furious with me. It is such a perpetual attitude with him that it has actually become his state of being. The Duke of Sandford is furious, and he intends to remain that way, whatever happens,” James said, and the two men roared with laughter.
James and Hector had gravitated towards one another within days of them arriving at Eton. They were both thirteen and both nervous, although each had very obvious humour which they used as a means of getting them through the most trying times in the early part of their public-school education.
Other boys liked them very much and, whenever together, they had everybody laughing, even the older boys whose stronger instincts were ordinarily to bully the younger ones.
The humour had never ceased between them as they had matured into men and, nearly seventeen years later, they were still able to make one another laugh.
“So, let me guess,” Hector said as he leaned back in his chair and took a long drink of his tea. “The Duke is once again reminding you of your responsibility to marry a suitable would-be Duchess and sire a suitable would-be Duke. Am I right?”
“You are. Of course, since that is what he continually reminds me of, then you could hardly have failed to be right on this occasion.”
James liked Hanover Hall very much and was pleased to have a little time with his old friend without the encumbrance of polite conversation with a myriad of other guests.
The breakfast room was well situated and, being on the same wing and orientation as the morning room, it enjoyed bright sunshine whenever there was any to be had.
The room was light and bright and, although it had not changed since James had first been there as a boy in the school holidays, it did not seem out of date. The lemon-yellow walls were fresh, and the wooden panelling as white as he always remembered it.
The large vase of spring flowers on the sideboard was an obvious touch of the housekeeper, Mrs Merton, who had been trying to surreptitiously provide a civilizing influence on Hector and his father since Hector’s mother had died so many years before.
That was just another similarity between the two of them as much younger men. Hector had lost his mother shortly before arriving at Eton, a loss which he managed and covered very well indeed.
And so when James lost his own, beloved mother at eighteen, Hector had provided the sort of support that only comes from personal experience. It was a quiet support without overt fuss of any kind, and it was something that James would never forget as long as he lived.
“So, amuse me,” Hector went on. “Who does the old Duke have lined up for you now?”
“It is not one, Hector, but many. As his exasperation with me grows, so, I am afraid, does his list.”
“He has a list?”
“You have met my father, Hector. Of course, he has a list.” James laughed, although he felt a dull feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembered he had brightly promised to sit down with his father and go through the list that he and Charles Holt had prepared as soon as he returned home.
Perhaps that was a large part of why he was hovering at Hanover Hall. Although he knew he had other reasons too. Well, just one reason.
“There must be some front-runners. Do not leave me in suspense, let me have some names.”
“Hector, you are a little too amused at my expense for my liking,” James complained.
“I know,” Hector said and helped himself to a hard-boiled egg. “But carry on.”
“Well, at the very top of the list is Lady Felicia Trent, daughter of the Earl of Whittingham,” James began.
“I have seen her,” Hector said. “At some event or other over on your side of the county. Anyway, I am bound to say she is awfully pretty.”
“Indeed,” James said without conviction. “But she has such a tiresome character. She perpetually corrects people, in their speech or on some matter of a misgiven date. Anything! She will correct and correct, and it is an attitude which leads me to continually call her Felicity instead of Felicia.”
“But why?”
“Just to see if she ever grows tired of correcting people in that quiet, needle-nosed way of hers,” James said with disapproval.
“And does she?” Hector said and paused expectantly, his fork halted halfway to his mouth.
“No,” James said dryly, and Hector boomed with laughter.
“Oh dear. So, who is next on the list?”
“I believe it is Lady Penelope Colchester, daughter of the Earl of Paynton.”
“I do not know her.”
“Then count yourself lucky.”
“As bad as that? Why? Is she, too, a serial corrector?”
“No, she barely speaks at all. She just nods and smiles at everything I say, so I am compelled now to make the most absurd utterances just to see if she will agree with every silly thing I give voice to.”
“And does she?”
“Yes.” James’ response was as flat as before, and Hector was just as amused.
“My dear fellow, it seems that it is all rather a case of personalities. I am bound to say that you have become the sort of man who values a little character and wit over the more obvious charms a young lady might possess. Well now, who would have thought it?”
“I am not so shallow as you would paint me, Hector.” James laughed.
“I know, I am teasing.” Hector smiled amiably. “So, why not simply tell me who it is that you do like.”
“There is likely nobody on my father’s list that I like at all.”
“I am not talking about your father’s list.”
“Oh?”
“Come along; I have seen you these last three days making your little advances upon my cousin. Well, my very distant cousin, but a relative nonetheless.”
“Miss Cunningham?” James tried to sound innocent.
“Yes, Miss Cunningham.” Hector laughed. “And I must tell you I am not fooled by the look of surprise. And Charlotte is likely too smart to be fooled by it either.”
“Oh yes, I should say so.” James smiled in fond memory.
“Ah, so you admit it then?”
“Of course I admit it. She is an angel sent to earth to torment me, and I am sunk,” James said with playful drama.
“She is very pretty, that much is true, but she has a little too much intelligence and is a little too forthright for the tastes of many,” Hector said. “Although I must say I have always found her tremendous fun. She is far less scheming than other young ladies, and she was always an adventurous sort of a child if I remember rightly.”
“So, your families are close?” James said with interest.
“Close enough. Her father, the Baron, is something of an old dear. He has a great capacity for blundering about that makes the whole thing seem like an art form.”
“Yes, he is something of a clumsy horseman, that much I have seen.” James laughed at the memory.
“But nobody minds because he is so very pleasant. He is a distant cousin of my father, and the two get along. I know Charlotte well enough, but not too well.”
“How so?”
“Well, she is a good bit younger than us, James. I think she is but twenty, so as a boy she was of little interest to me as a playmate of any kind. I was already a growing young man at Eton when she had reached the age young girls reach when you can play and not fear breaking them.”
“And now?”
“I like her,” Hector said firmly. “She is… how can I put this? Different.”
“Yes, I perceived as much myself.”
“For instance, I daresay she did not fawn over you or nearly expire with excitement when you made yourself known to her.”
“No, she most certainly did not.” James laughed.
“Because she is not a title hunter at all. And neither is her father. As I said, he is a decent sort of a man and one of that curious breed who values his daughter’s happiness over her benefit to him as a commodity to trade.”
“Good Lord! Imagine that!” James laughed loudly. “I like him better and better.”
“Well, she is a fortunate young woman for I imagine that dear old Lucas will allow her a free reign in the choosing of a husband.”
“If only I were so favourably blessed.” James laughed, but it was true to say that he felt the veracity of his words.
He was, of course, free to marry at will; as long as the lady was of a breeding acceptable to his father with a sizeable dowry to match.
“Although I daresay she will not be a lady who accepts the first proposal to come her way. She is a thoughtful sort of a woman, one who would consider things at length. And she is not easily fooled, and so I can only suggest that any declaration of love be an honest one.”
“Declaration of love?” James said with surprise. “You are jumping ahead some distance there, my old friend.”
“Perhaps not so great a distance as you think. I know you, James, and I can say I have never seen this look of admiration on your face before. Something about my young cousin has caught your imagination, I can see it. And I know her to be a very tricky sort of a character, and so I envisage a long and hard road ahead of you. But I have a feeling that it would be the sort of journey you would favour over the ordinary sort of courtship.” Hector laughed. “Yes, I would say that you were very well suited. Certainly, in terms of stubbornness and wit, at any rate.”
James laughed and gave the matter some serious consideration as two maids came into the breakfast room to replenish the tea and coffee pots.
There was a much more relaxed atmosphere now that the other guests had gone, and it was obvious even in the demeanour of the staff.
The late morning had a languid feel to it as if they might sit there drinking tea until dinner time and nobody would mind a bit. How James wished he could just stay there and forget all about the Duchy of Sandford and his ever-furious father.
“So, since I have never met or heard of Lord Cunningham before, am I to assume his estate is nearer to yours than mine?”
“You did not ask the lady?” Hector said with amusement.
“I did not get that far,” James admitted dolefully.
“Goodness, you are slowing up my dear fellow.” Hector was thoroughly enjoying himself. “But to answer your question, yes, Lord Cunningham’s estate is only a few miles from here. You could ride in the carriage for twenty minutes, or go across country on horseback in about seven, depending on your sense of urgency.”
“I take it they do not have acquaintances in the west of the county?”
“No. Why? Were you hoping to see her in someone’s drawing room quite by chance? I rather fear not. They are well-respected in society here in the east and rarely travel about much. Although I think Charlotte has an aunt on her mother’s side who is closer to Sandford.”
“So, I am rarely, if ever, to cross paths with the lady again.” James looked down purposefully. “Unless, of course, my finest and oldest friend, a boy by whose side I have stood year upon year, sees fit to help me.” James looked up at Hector with a conspiratorial expression.
“By which I assume you mean to visit me more? Pay me a little better attention that you have done of late?”
“Hector, do not look wounded. It does not suit you.” James laughed.
“Alright.” Hector recovered humorously. “So, what would you like me to do? Find out where my cousin is going to be and when? Engineer some pathway upon which the two of you could serendipitously meet?”
“Something like that, yes.” James poured himself another cup of tea from a tall, ornate china pot. “Perhaps you could find out which events Charlotte Cunningham will attend locally and, if they seem equally natural for you to attend, perhaps I could go with you.” He paused thoughtfully for a moment. “Unless it would cause you a problem to attempt to secure me invites?”
“For heaven’s sake, when will you learn to capitalize on your status? You are one day to be a Duke, and it counts as much on this side of the county as it would on your own side. You shall have no concern in that direction. It will be a simple thing to get you an invite to every drawing room for miles if that is your want.”
James smiled and thought that he would never now capitalize on his status, as Hector put it, if only because he would not want Charlotte’s early thoughts on his character to be true.
And her opinion, he realized, was going to become more and more important to him now that he and Hector had a plan.