Page 10 of The Undaunted
He enjoyed the London season and its general air of busyness, but it wore on him too. London could bring entertainments, but it could also bring aggravations and irritations.
Too many aggravations and irritations in one day would begin to knock on the box of his temper, which he had long kept under locks and chains. By the end of the season, he found it was entirely necessary to regroup in the quiet and orderliness of his estate. He liked looking at it in such good order and comparing it to the scenes of turmoil from his youth. It was much changed from what it had been.
Instead of going home, he was on his way to an ill-advised trip to the Prince’s seaside playground.
He did not know how it would unfold. For now, he could only hope that when his aunt said they would depart at eight sharp, Miss Upton took that to be exactly eight sharp.
Chapter Three
Lady Easton wassomewhat mollified to find Miss Upton ready to leave the house a full fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. The girl had been to breakfast prompt at seven and had wasted no time getting herself organized. The morning had been calm and ordered, just as she preferred it.
She still could not account for Miss Upton’s lateness the evening before. Was that not what clocks were for? Did they not have clocks all over the house so that nobody was at risk for tardiness?
And the things she said! Why on earth would a young lady ever have opportunity to know anything about gin, never mind what the remedies might be for imbibing too much of it?
Lady Easton was determined to forget about it, as Miss Upton had been early this morning and she did look very charming in her traveling cloak of dyed blue muslin embroidered with delicate little daisies. She suspected Miss Upton herself had sewn the daisies and it was artfully done. Further, it was not the girl’s fault that her father had failed to take proper care. That would be Clara Godwin, Countess of Easton’s, purview. And shewouldtake proper care. She would expertly steer this ship through uncharted waters and dock it at whatever port she deemed preferable.
Richard had, of course, been precisely on time. He would ride his horse, as a gentleman always seemed so eager to do. At least, gentlemen would insist upon it until they reached that mysterious day in their life when they retreated into the comfort of a carriage forevermore.
As the carriage rumbled along, Miss Upton had been making herself very pleasant and Lady Easton found it did make the journey go faster to have a companion in the coach who was not her maid.
Over the hours, she began to grow fond of the girl. Lady Easton found that her manner was softened and she began to speak to Miss Upton as a motherly sort of person. At least, she supposed she did. One spoke to a son in a different manner so she could only make an educated guess. She might have asked Lady Mendleton and Lady Heathway how they went about it, had she been able to stand for their inevitable self-congratulations.
She pointed to a turning and said, “That is the road to Burstow, the site of many happy scenes of my youth, Miss Upton.”
Miss Upton had peered down the road as they passed by it. She said, “Might you call me Caroline, Lady Easton?”
Clara was taken up short by the notion. It was very touching. Her boys never said anything touching.
“Caroline? Well, that is a pretty name, yes, it really is. Yes, I suppose I ought to use your given name, as we will be much together these coming months.”
The girl had seemed pleased to hear it.
“And what may I call you?” Caroline asked.
“Lady Easton, of course,” she said. She supposed that had been a joke of some sort and smiled at it. She was not particularly gifted at sensing jokes, but certainly that had been one. If Caroline were in the habit of gentle jests, she must be on the lookout for them.
Caroline had nodded. As she did so, Richard rode on ahead of the carriage. He had been behind for some time but had likely grown tired of riding through the dust thrown up by the carriage wheels. He was wonderfully straight-backed and handled his horse beautifully.
“May I ask,” Caroline said, “what is Lord Bertridge’s given name? I would not presume to use it, of course, I am only curious.”
“His name is Richard,” Lady Easton said. “I do not suppose any nephew and aunt are closer than we are.” She felt herself warming to the subject, as she always did when she spoke of her nephew. She did so wish her own boys would be more like him. They were both so wild and unruly and unpredictable. Richard was none of those things.
“We are very alike, Richard and I,” Clara confided. “We see things very much eye to eye.”
“He certainly seems to have been very well guided into his position as earl,” Caroline said.
“But that is just it!” she said. “He hasn’t been, he’s raised himself to be the man he is today. His parents were silly and careless people, and I say that knowing one of them was my own sister. Richard never allowed himself to be affected by their very bad example.”
Seeing Caroline watch the back of his horse disappear into the distance, Lady Easton said, “We have made firm plans between us regarding his future. I know as well as he what sort of wife will be wanted, and it just so happens that very lady will be launched next season.”
“Indeed?” Caroline said. “Who is the lady? Is she one known to your family for a very long time?”
“Heavens, no,” she said. “I’ve never laid eyes on the girl. She is the Duke of Clayton’s daughter, she comes with a sizable dowry, and someone who knows the family describes her as both prettyanddemure. Richard will want demure as a quality in a wife—he cannot abide chaos and upset.”
“Goodness,” Caroline said, “that does sound like a match.”
Lady Easton patted the girl’s hand. “A brilliant match. Now, Caroline, you are wondering about yourself, I am sure. Well, I cannot say we could shoot high as that or what we will find in Brighton. I will only say I will be rigorous in weeding out anybody who is not suitable.”
