Page 15 of To Catch a Husband
‘You have met him?’
‘Briefly, and informally.’ Mary Lound did not want to bring up the subject of fishing. Miss Banham would wrinkle up her nose at the thought of any fish not upon a plate and well-seasoned.79
‘Ooh. How old is he? What does he look like?’ Miss Banham could not help but let her youth show, and Miss Lound kept her amusement concealed within.
‘I cannot give his age exactly, but I would think him perhaps thirty or thereabouts. His brother is considerably younger, probably a youngest sibling, and still in his teens. He has that gangly quality about him, but a nice enough boy. Sir Rowland …’ Miss Lound paused, ostensibly conjuring his image from the depths of memory, but uneasily aware that he was remarkably near the surface, which annoyed her and intrigued her at the same time. ‘Sir Rowland is a tall man, about six feet I would imagine. His figure was concealed by his coat, but even accounting for layers of clothing I would say he is broad enough of shoulder and trim enough of waist to be classed as the Corinthian more than the dandy. Having said which, I have not personally encountered either sort beyond my brother Edmund’s rather desperate attempts to look fashionable. His eyes are brownish,’ she tried to sound vague, ‘and he possesses a sense of humour.’
‘You were able to study ’im for some time, Miss Lound,’ commented Lady Roxton.
‘Only a few minutes, ma’am,’ replied Miss Lound, and her ladyship drew her own conclusions from that.
‘I do hope they both remain here,’ sighed Miss Banham. ‘Not that our friends are boring, but it is such fun to have new acquaintances.’
‘You will have the opportunity for very many new acquaintances when you go make your come out in the80spring.’ Miss Lound gave her what she hoped was a friendly and encouraging smile. ‘It will be very exciting.’
‘Did you make a come out in Bath or London, Miss Lound?’ Miss Banham’s question made it sound as though, if she had, then it must have been decades ago.
‘Neither, though I did spend several weeks in Bath a couple of years ago. The dressmakers there are of the highest quality, and it is a very lively place.’ Mary ignored the unintentional insult.
Lord Roxton, who made a habit of spending a week in London before the Derby meeting each year, visiting old haunts, friends, and his tailor, smiled to himself. Bath was considered very much a backwater these days, so if Miss Lound felt it vibrant it said a lot about her ideas of social excitement.
‘I am looking forward to it all very much.’ Miss Banham’s enthusiasm was genuine.
‘And I am sure both will have lots of gentlemen as smart as Lord Cradley.’
‘And Sir Rowland, as you describe him, does sound interesting.’
Just for a moment, Mary Lound’s heart thumped. What had she just done? She had paraded Sir Rowland, in imagination at least, before the most likely young woman in the district to attract a man. Whilst she could not have pretended he was some ogre, she had been all too open and forthcoming. Even if Madeleine Banham did not flutter her indecently long and curving eyelashes at him, she was youthful, beautiful and charming, and81she herself, Mary Lound, was five and twenty, without any feminine wiles, and no experience of being courted. If she was planning to catch Sir Rowland Kempsey, then she had just put a large hole in her own landing net. Then she thought of Harry.
‘Sir Harry Penwood is returned also, do not forget, and after three years without sight of England must be as interesting as someone new.’ It was grasping at straws.
‘That is true, and he is much …’ Miss Banham waved her arms about, in a gesture she had obviously copied from her mother, ‘more interesting than when he left, but he does not cut such a dash as a London gentleman.’
Poor Harry. His chances did not look good. It occurred to Miss Lound that rather than ‘cutting a dash’ as an idle young man, he had been cutting at Frenchmen, but saying so in front of Lady Roxton would be the height of poor taste. However much the lady deplored Napoleon Bonaparte, she was French by blood and birth. She changed the subject.
‘My mama would be so pleased if you said yes to coming to dine, Lady Roxton. It seems an age since we last entertained.’
‘And you could invite Lord Cradley to make the numbers even,’ suggested Miss Banham.
Since ‘over my dead body’ was not an appropriate comment, Miss Lound merely gave a small smile.
Lord Roxton, both a little more tactful, and more aware of the centuries-old feud between the houses of Lound and Risley, pooh-poohed the idea upon the82grounds that his presence would constrict conversation.
‘For I am sure by then everyone will have met him upon at least one occasion and be keen to exchange views. Lady Damerham is out of full mourning this month, is she not?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Well, then. Perhaps we ourselves might have not just a dinner but a supper party with dancing afterwards, and all the newcomers to the area can be invited, and we will be able to see how well they dance as well as please the young ladies.’
His spouse looked surprised at this idea, but not horrified. Miss Lound’s smile became fixed. Being seen at a dance with Madeleine Banham was even more certain to cast her in the light of hopeless old maid. Comparisons were odious, but also frequently made. Of course she could dance, had mastered conversing whilst dancing and not looking at one’s feet, but she lacked the fluid grace of one who danced naturally, and with pleasure. What a pity, she thought, that courtship took place so much indoors and at functions, rather than on long walks, or sat upon riverbanks, though a chaperone in either situation would be sure to want to walk more slowly, or frighten the fishes.
She returned home with Lady Roxton’s assurance that they would be delighted to come to dinner the following Monday evening, and with the realisation also that observing how Madeleine Banham charmed men without having a man present was going to be impossible, since83asking for advice was out of the question. It was as she dismounted at the stables that she had the idea of inviting Harry Penwood, and his mama, who might well decline. She did not want to see him making a cake of himself in front of her, but better him than Sir Rowland, and Lord Cradley was out of the question. She therefore returned to her mama with an assent and a request that she send another note, this time to Lady Penwood, making sure to say that the Roxtons were also to be present.
‘If Harry is in two minds about coming, that will sway him,’ said Mary, confidently, ‘and, by the by, the man whom I mistook for Sir Rowland Kempsey was in fact Lord Cradley. No wonder I loathed him upon sight. I can now report he is even more insufferable than I first thought, and if you invite him to dinner, tea or a light luncheon, Mama, I shall go into strong hysterics.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Lady Damerham, already wondering how she was going to give a dinner that did not prove they were as poor as church mice and make Cook die of shame, and still maintain Mary’s concept of strict household economy.
Her culinary concerns having robbed her of a good two hours of sleep during the night, Lady Damerham partook of thin slices of bread and butter and a cup of hot chocolate in her bed next morning, leaving Mary to breakfast alone. In contrast to recent days, the morning was one of blazing sunshine, and even if she had been perfectly sure that she might fish the lake, she knew there84was little chance of a bite. However, she went out to the stables and had Silas, the groom, pull out a large butt of coiled plaited straw into the garden, and pin a target to it. She then went to get her bow and quiver and spent a happy half hour sending arrows into the target with good grouping. She was focused upon her breathing and her aim, and only as she was loosing an arrow did she catch movement as a man appeared from the path beneath the yew arch. The movement distracted her aim, and even as she started, the arrow left the bow and shot past the gentleman within three inches of his chest, burying itself in the outermost part of the target.
