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Cecilia cancels the marriage her father had arranged for her with the proud Earl Aradale, yet later seeks Arandale’s help when she is is pulled into a vortex of danger…

Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

London, 1816

Cecilia Sentenell was doing some last minute bookkeeping in readiness for her and her father’s trip to London to partake of the social season. She had just finished her meeting with the estate’s agent, Calloway, when Jonathon, her father’s most trusted footman, knocked on her door.
“Miss Sentenell,” said Jonathon, “one of the tenants’ wives wishes to speak with you, a Mrs. Kenty.”
“Mrs. Kenty?  Oh, yes, Jonathon, Becky and Jimmy’s mother. Show her into the study.”
“Mrs. Kenty,” said Cecilia as Mrs. Kenty walked into the study. “Please sit down.” Mrs. Kenty’s husband had been one of the soldiers who had returned home lately, with a limp and a cough, but at least had come back with his life. Many others had not been as fortunate.
“No, mum, I’ll just stand here if you don’t mind. I best say wha’ I have to say and get back home, Mrs. Miles is taking care of the children while I come ‘ere.”
“Is something the matter?”
“Oh, Miss Sentenell! My Bill told me as how you brought your own doctor to see Jimmy and I’m ever so grateful to you. In a huner’ years I wouldna be payin’ ye such a favor, miss.”
“How is Jimmy, is he improving?”
“It’s the medicine, miss – he doesna swallow it – spits it right out! I even tried forcing him.”
“If he doesn’t take his medicine he can’t get better, Mrs. Kenty. Whooping cough is very dangerous. Perhaps I should go back with you and see Jimmy?”
“Oh, mum, would you?” Mrs. Kenty beamed a grateful smile and wrung her hands.
*   *   *
“Jimmy,” said Cecilia as she entered the two-room cottage.
“Cecilia!” Little Becky Kenty ran and put her arms around Cecilia’s legs, “Why haven’t you come? You said you would tell us another story.”
“I haven’t had much time, my sweet, I’ve been very busy. We are to go to London soon.”
“Don’t go, Ceci,” said four-year-old Jimmy in a frail voice from the bed. “Please, Ceci, Becky and I don’t want you to go.”
“My dears, I shall be back soon and I’ll bring you each a surprise from London.  Meanwhile, I have some sugar plums for you, to keep you until you get your gifts. But Jimmy, you cannot eat sugar plums if you are coughing all the time, now can you?”
“When will you – ” Jimmy was racked with a coughing fit. Alarmed, Cecilia brought some water for him to drink.
“See, my dear, you cannot get better unless you take your medicine.”
“It-tastes-tastes bad-”
“I don’t think there is any medicine that tastes good, my sweet, but it will take away the cough. Will you do it for me?”
“If I do will you promise to stay a while?”
“Yes. I’ll stay, but I must see you take your medicine first. And I also want you to promise me you will take it each time your mum says you should. Now put your hand over your heart, like this, and promise.”
“I promise,” said Jimmy solemnly, with his little hand over his heart. “I’ll take it even if it tastes awful?for you, Ceci!”
“Why are you going to London, Ceci?” asked little Becky.
“We-e-ll,” said Cecilia, “I have to go. I have to rescue my prince.”
“Girls don’t rescue princes, silly,” said Becky, then asked, “from where, Ceci?”
“From the wilderness.”
“What’s wilder?”
“The woods, my sweet.”
“You must let the prince rescue you, Ceci,” said Jimmy feebly.
“All right,” laughed Cecilia, “I’ll let him rescue me too.”
“Will you tell us the story of Sleeping Beauty again?” asked Becky hopefully.
*   *   *
The following few days, Cecilia took care of the last details that must be dealt with before they could leave for London.
She gave the estate’s agent, Calloway, instructions that would hold him the few weeks she and her father, Sir Geoffrey Sentenell, were to be away. Cecilia had eased into the job of running the estate hardly knowing she was doing so for during the preceding year her father’s health had deteriorated. Little by little she had found herself taking over more of the estate work that her father had done in the past. At first, it was just writing a letter or two for Sir Geoffrey on estate business because Sir Geoffrey’s hand was too stiff to write, then it would be adding a column of figures, then a meeting with the estate agent or a merchant.
Cecilia had read the books in her father’s library twice over and had often gone hunting with her father when her father was still in good health. Her father, lacking a son, had taught her to ride a horse and handle a pistol and a sword as well as any man. That was why when his health deteriorated, she had slipped into the job he had done before with the greatest ease.
Often, Sir Geoffrey’s pain did not permit him to rise from his bed. Cecilia’s heart was heavy and she dared not think too closely on her father’s illness. Dr. Jelvian could only prescribe compresses to his hand and herbal tea for his pain. Neither of which did any good.
Then Lady Rolande, an old friend of her mother’s and her daughter Hedra, had arrived one day from Derbyshire and things had changed for the better. Sir Geoffrey’s spirits rose and the packets of medicine Lady Rolande provided took away the pain and restored his energy.
Lady Rolande had suggested to Sir Geoffrey that Sir Geoffrey and Cecilia accompany her and Hedra to London, for the season.  She convinced Sir Geoffrey that Cecilia could better find a husband in London than in Nottingham. She also suggested that it would be wise to see to the leasing of a house in London as soon as possible so that he might not run the risk of not finding a suitable one.
Sir Geoffrey had agreed right away. Not only did he want to please their new friend, who had done so much for him, but he often worried that Cecilia might be unmarried when he died. So he asked Cecilia to write a letter to his solicitor in London, so that the leasing of the house could be done as soon as possible.
Cecilia, who had never once thought of partaking of the London season, began to dream about fashionable clothes and dancing in glittering ballrooms. Cecilia was nineteen and only a few months from twenty, and felt that perhaps she was a bit old for a “coming out.”  But Lady Rolande had scoffed at her doubts.
“Ellen Drake was twenty-one in her come out last year and nobody thought much of it, my dear. And you do look three years younger. It’s not necessary to go to the expense of presenting you in court, as the Queen is not receiving and King George is in seclusion.  The Prince, as everyone knows, hardly leaves Brighton.”

CHAPTER 2

“Girls, girls!” said Lady Rolande, “Look over at that carriage. But just see, there, the yellow phaeton!  It’s the Earl of Arandale – one of the most eligible bachelors of the season, and so handsome he makes me wish I was twenty years younger!”
It was a week after their arrival in London and Cecilia Sentenell was riding in Hyde Park at the peak hour, with Lady Rolande and Lady Rolande’s daughter, Hedra. Lady Rolande was pointing at the occupants of a high phaeton that was passing by in the opposite direction.
“Do you know, him, Mama? Can you introduce him to us?” asked, Hedra, eagerly, craning her neck.
“Well, I have not been introduced to him myself, but I believe we can find someone to introduce us, I am not without connections!” said Lady Rolande, and added, “But only see, how he flaunts his mistress!”
At that very moment, Arandale looked straight at them and then leaned over and kissed the woman at his side full in the mouth.
Cecilia glanced with distaste at the tableau. She settled back in her seat and tried hard to ignore the earl’s carriage and the others in her own carriage, as well.
In the four days they had been in London, Lady Rolande and her daughter Hedra’s behavior had caused Cecilia embarrassment on several occasions. It had not taken Cecilia long to realize that perhaps coming to London had been a mistake. No season in London was worth putting up with Hedra’s crass manners and rude comments, many of them directed at Cecilia, and Lady Rolande’s inability to rein her in.
Cecilia’s mother had died three years before and her father had gone into deep mourning that had lasted for so long that Cecilia had wondered if he would ever come out of his deep sadness. His depression had triggered an illness in him and when before he had been in the best of health, he now struggled each day with increasing pain.
To cope with Lady Roland, Cecilia often had to remind herself that it was Lady Rolande who had lifted Sir Geoffrey off depression and out of his mourning, made him laugh again and had provided miraculous medicine for his rheumatic pain. Sir Geoffrey had begun to lose the use of his right hand and he now walked with a slight limp.
Lady Rolande diverted them with anecdotes of the past she had shared with Cecilia’s mother when they were both girls in Derbyshire. Cecilia could not remember her mother having once mentioned Lady Rolande but she did not think to doubt Lady Rolande, for she had shown them a miniature of her and her mother as girls. Yet it had not taken Cecilia long to realize how different Lady Rolande and her daughter Hedra’s values and outlook were from hers.
Her father hardly remembered Lady Rolande, if at all. But then, her father was not a very social person. Lady Rolande talked a lot about her friendship with Cecilia’s mother when they were both girls. She seemed to know so much about Lady Sentenell that it would have been impossible to doubt that she had been her close friend.
As the phaeton pulled away and Lady Rolande motioned her driver to proceed, Hedra sighed audibly.
“What a man. To be married to such a man would be happiness indeed!”
“I would not be married to that man for all the gold of Croesus,” said Cecilia, turning away in disgust. “He is a stranger to propriety.”
“Oh, don’t be a fuddy-duddy, Cecilia, you’re just gamboling me; of course you would jump at the chance of becoming the Countess of Arandale. Who wouldn’t?”
“I assure you I would not.”
“Mama, would not Cecilia jump at the chance of becoming a countess? Bear me out.”
“Girls! This bickering,” protested Lady Rolande, “We came here to see and be seen.  You are wasting valuable time.”
“Cecilia is false in pretending she would not want to become a countess. I cannot believe it for a moment, do you, Mama?”
“Hedra, hush.”
“Cecilia?  You do not answer.  Have you heard what I said about you wanting to become a countess?”
“I assure you I did hear you, Hedra,” said Cecilia, “at least the first six times.”
“You would so want to become a countess. If you say you do not you are lying.”
“You’re becoming tedious, Hedra. Can we not talk about you marrying this Arandale earl, instead?”
“Why, that is altogether to my liking, and I have no doubt I would accomplish it, should I set my mind to it.”
“Yes, I am certain of it,” said Cecilia.
“Girls,” said Lady Rolande, “Just look at Lady Haeling’s new carriage. It must have cost a fortune. And her purple turban to match, why she looks an eastern potentate and just as…”
“And just as massive,” said Hedra.
“Ssh – ” whispered her mother fiercely, “You are speaking very loud, Hedra.  Lady Haeling almost heard you! You must hold you tongue in future. It would not do to have Lady Haeling against you. She is a close friend of Countess Lieven.”
*   *   *
Once the priceless vouchers for Almack’s had been secured, the season stretched ahead as a fairyland of pure enjoyment for Cecilia, and she tried not to let Hedra spoil her enjoyment. After all, Hedra was often out chasing eligible bachelors and Cecilia was able to visit sights she had longed to see accompanied by her personal maid, Mary, and followed closely by one of their footmen, Jonathon.
At first, Cecilia had protested so much protection, but on their third time out, after being assaulted by vagrants while she and Mary were on Bond Street shopping, she had changed her mind. One of them tried to snatch their packages and another one their reticules. It was only through the interference of two gentlemen who had witnessed the scene that they were saved. The gentlemen had chased away the vagrants, threatening to call the Magistrate’s soldiers.
After that, Cecilia was glad of Jonathon’s company in her and Mary’s outings, to her father’s relief and surprise.
“I am all for having Jonathon accompany me everywhere, Papa. In fact, it empowers me. I feel I can even walk in Whitechapel or venture into gambling hells and – ”
“Ceci!” Her father stared at her horrified.
“I’m funning you, Papa, don’t frown so. But Jonathon is a blessing. Gentlemen can carry a loaded pistol or a sword -I take Jonathon along!”
“Jonathon and his pistol,” said Sir Geoffrey happily. “London is a dangerous place to live in. I wonder people actually live here all year. I cannot take more than the few weeks the season lasts.”
Martha Bedder, a cousin of Sir Geoffrey’s, was to arrive in a fortnight. She was to make her home with them and be a chaperone to Cecilia. And after they left for Brintelway Hall, Martha would also be with them for she had been widowed a year before and was happy to be offered a home by her cousin, Sir Geoffrey.
As Mary worked on her hair, Cecilia’s mind drifted to the night when she had seen Lord Arandale for the second time, at the first Almack’s ball of the season. Why must the image of that man pop into her head uninvited? The thought of him only made her apprehensive and tense. But her mind ruthlessly stayed on him.
Even above the chatter of Lady Rolande’s daughter, Hedra, Cecilia had felt a buzz of conversation suddenly lift like a wave. She noticed that people were craning their necks toward the entrance and curious, she did too, as Hedra, for once, was silent.
She was surprised to see that the cause of the commotion was the tall figure of a man with dark hair, broad shoulders encased in dark Bath superfine that contrasted with snowy linen and an impeccably folded neck cloth. She glanced at his face and saw instantly that he was the same man they had seen in the Park a few days after their arrival in London?the Earl of Arandale?the man she had disliked on sight.
She remembered how both Lady Rolande and Hedra had drooled over him, while she had developed an instant dislike of him. She was certain that he had kissed his mistress in the mouth when he was certain the occupants of Lady Rolande’s carriage had turned to look at him.
She noticed that the points of his collar were normal, and not the absurd heights that many dandies favored. His coat, too, was free of the fobs and seals young men of fashion encumbered their coats with.  But it was the face above the collar that held her gaze for a few seconds. He seemed different now, dressed formally in black and white. Yet as Cecilia gazed carefully for the first time at his features, she realized there was recklessness to his face, like he had seen and done too much.
She remembered the words that first sprang to her mind on seeing him thus that second time: pity the girl who marries him, for he will always be shared with lightskirts.
But now she thought otherwise. No one could ever possess his heart. It was as if there was a wall in front of him and if you reached to his face you would be able touch it, a wall that would prevent you from seeing into his eyes, or knowing what he was thinking. She remembered that as a child, trespassing on the adjoining estate she had ran into a high wall and had been greatly curious as to what lay behind it. She had never found out because shortly after that they had moved to London for a year, when her mother had become extremely ill. That high wall had become a recurring dream from which Cecilia sometimes awoke.

CHAPTER 3

Cecilia now became aware of the comments from girls pressing around her, and her eyes took note of the arrogant proud air of the man who seemed to have captured everyone’s attention.
Cecilia had been at several functions where the Prince had made an appearance. The Prince Regent was referred to by several nicknames such as “Florizel” and, “Prinny” and his dalliances were laughed at and his exploits ridiculed.
No such thing seemed to be happening now. Lord Arandale commanded the respect and fawning admiration of both men and women alike. She noted with distaste how carelessly he ignored the admiration he was receiving as he walked by. He had been spoiled from birth up, thought Cecilia.
An image of him kissing his mistress in full view of the ton flashed again through her mind unpleasantly. She could not imagine a man whom she would ever be less attracted to than the Earl of Arandale. Cecilia moved away from Hedra a bit and closer to three other girls who had become slight acquaintances. But finding that they too found nothing else to talk about than the Earl of Arandale, she glanced around the room enjoying the scene and appreciating the gowns of the girls who were moving slowly around, waiting for the opening dance. That was why she was surprised when Countess Lieven, one of the Patronesses of Almack’s, approached her and the other three girls.
Countess Lieven’s face was beaming, as she was in the arm of Arandale.
“Ah, children,” she said to Cecilia and the other girls, “allow me to introduce to you his lordship, Justin Alanston, the Earl of Arandale. “Your lordship, this is Mima Davenport.” She motioned to Mima Davenport and that girl came forward to be introduced, an eager look in her eyes.
Lord Arandale greeted Miss Davenport, spoke briefly, bowed slightly and moved to the next one. In such a manner he went through the introductions of the several girls that waited, with a comment here and there about the London season or the ball. Cecilia, unable to escape stood rooted to her spot, waiting her turn, for she was the last of the line of girls.
“Miss Cecilia Sentenell, daughter of Sir Geoffrey and Lady Sentenell of Brintelway Hall in Nottingham.”
“Miss Sentenell, said the earl, “a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
He then asked Cecilia if she was enjoying the London season, commenting on the fact that he had seen her once or twice in Hyde Park.
“Is this your first season in London, Miss Sentenell?”
“Yes.” Cecilia was uncomfortably aware that Lord Arandale had spoken only briefly with the other girls while with her she was lingering a very extended time. She could feel the girls’ jealous eyes piercing her back.
“You must be anxious to take in the sights,” said Arandale, “such as the Tower and the Kew Gardens -”
“Yes, my lord, I am,” Cecilia answered briefly. She normally would have expanded at such male attention, but she was anxious that he should move on. Her voice was subdued in contrast to the other girls’ voices on speaking to Arandale, which had been extremely high and nervous.
Arandale noted that she was very composed before him, something that had not happened to him before on being introduced to a debutante.
“Is there a particular place you look forward to visiting?” he now asked, while Countess Lieven stood by his side, in silence. And she looked, thought Cecilia with chagrin, like she would like to choke Cecilia, blaming her for attracting more of Arandale’s time than she deserved. But Cecilia could do nothing but wait until Arandale decided on his own to leave her side.
“Perhaps I may be fortunate enough to escort you to some of these sights soon,” he said, unbelievably, so that even the countess turned sharply to stare at him.
Finally, Arandale finished with the introductions, and Cecilia was left to wonder why she had been singled out thus, when there were girls in the room of higher rank and certainly prettier than she was.
Cecilia always sold herself short as far as looks were concerned. She was an extremely attractive girl, whose assets were hidden under inadequate clothes, inadequate hairstyles and little town bronze. Even now, she was wearing a ball gown that she had worn many times before, at the assembly dances back home, for it would be at least another week before she would be able to wear the new clothes they had ordered for her in London.
She now remembered the filmy new ball gown she had chosen from the plates of La Belle Assemblee and she felt a surge of joy to think that she would soon be wearing the pale aquamarine silk gown to the next ball. That color, against her eyes, had brought out the blue in her eyes and deepened them.
She was, though, very much aware that she knew that she was able to argue her way into getting her way with her father almost every time. Cecilia glanced around at the other girls, admiring a gown here a hairdo there.
She wondered what these girls would think if they found out she could handle a sword just as well as any man. The thought made her smile to herself and just at that moment she looked up and saw that the Earl of Arandale was glancing at her from a short distance away. She quickly turned away.
*   *   *
Cecilia’s London season was extremely enjoyable save for the thought of Lord Arandale that cast a shadow on her plans.
Cecilia had become aware that Arandale, in fact, had begun to court her. Cecilia could not fathom the reason for the earl choosing her for his attentions and tried hard to be as far away from him as possible at balls and soirees. Yet Arandale seem to always find her and to come by for either a dance or a chat.
It was at a rout given by Lady Castlereigh that Cecilia, squeezed against a wall by the packed throng, thought to find Hedra and Lady Rolande to ask them if they could leave. Yet she thought how difficult it would be since Lady Rolande and Hedra were always among the last to leave at dances and balls. They would surely not want to leave the rout half an hour after they had arrived.
Of all the social occasions, Cecilia liked the rout the least of all. The hostess would not consider her party a success unless it had been described in newspaper bulletins as “a sad squeeze.” Invariably, three times more people than the place would hold would be invited, to create the greatly coveted “sad squeeze” description. Refreshments were rare and hard to come by while the overabundance of guests stepped on each other’s toes, breathed down each other’s necks and were so noisy it gave one the feeling of being inside a chicken coop.
“Miss Sentenell,” said a voice behind her, “you look like you need rescuing.”
Cecilia glanced around at Lord Arandale and saw that he had two glasses of lemonade.
“I heard there was a breeze in the terrace,” he added, and Cecilia, who was feeling her throat parched, was grateful for the lemonade. She saw with interest how Lord Arandale parted the crowd for her to squeeze through. When they reached the terrace, they found it just as packed but at least there was air to be had there. They found a corner that was a little less crowded and Arandale, placing his lemonade glass on the rail, took Cecilia’s glass as well and put it by his.
“I saw your companions, Lady Rolande and Miss Gamine at the front hall,” he said, “I believe it will take you at least half an hour to work your way to them.”
“I wonder they invite so many people when it makes everyone unable to move,” said Cecilia.
“I hate to think what would happen if there was a stampede,” said Arandale, “a few dozen would be trampled.”
“And it could happen,” said Cecilia, “because Countess Delvene’s rout starts in half an hour.”
“And are you to attend?”
“I really don’t want to but I believe Lady Rolande made plans to attend, “answered Cecilia, “and you, my lord?”
“I will be unable to, as I am meeting Rub…I’m…” Lord Arandale had suddenly remembered that he had an appointment with Ruby in half an hour exactly, to attend a private party at Vauxhall. His fractured reply made him appear as if he was trying to hide something and he turned away from Cecilia.
Cecilia realized instantly that his confusion stemmed from the fact that he had almost blurted out his mistress’ name.
She turned away from him in disgust.
“I’m going to try to find Lady Rolande and Hedra now, my lord,” said Cecilia in a cold voice, and added, “thank you for your assistance.”
Cecilia fought her way through the throng with resolution, her wish to be as far away from Lord Arandale as possible, making her forceful. If he can part the crowd like the Red Sea, she said to herself, so can I.
Lord Arandale saw Cecilia move away quickly from him after bowing curtly and shrugged. Miss Sentenell, he thought with amusement, had a lot to learn about polite society. Apparently she had guessed who he almost mentioned and took exception to it.
He had been with that Brighton set too long, thought Arandale, to make him forget one did not mention the names of lightskirts to young debutantes.
He recalled the tint of Cecilia’s eyes, an unusual turquoise hue and the high breasts and small waist. He wondered how those breasts would feel in his hands. He felt a sudden stirring in his loins. Startled at himself he shook the image of her from his mind. He would soon have in his arms the luscious form of Ruby De Langeliers, and the “governess” disapproval written all over Miss Sentenell’s eyes quite forgotten.
But Lord Arandale, in the company of his mistress later on that night, and in the velvet invitation that were the dark paths of Vauxhall Gardens, was distracted. He realized with puzzlement that his evening had been shot to the devil by Miss Sentenell’s disapproving look. How to account for it?  He asked himself this a dozen times. Finally, he asked Lord Epson to take Ruby home because he was feeling unwell.
The following morning, after his usual ride in the Park on Fargo, he visited Ruby de Langeliers and broke off his relationship with her, cursing himself on the way back from the lady’s house.
He could not fool himself on the reason he had broken off with Ruby. Cecilia’s turquoise eyes burned brightly before him – like the eyes of governess. A governess witch, he told himself with a laugh.
*   *   *
Why Arandale popped up wherever she went was a mystery to Cecilia and irritating to Hedra, who would have loved seeing the earl interested in her instead. But no matter how much Hedra tried to catch the earl’s attention, the earl invariably looked beyond her if Cecilia was standing behind her and ignored her if she was behind Cecilia, after the barest nod in her direction.
Hedra, of course, blamed Cecilia, accusing her of hogging the earl’s attention in a pushy way.
Cecilia put up with Hedra for Lady Rolande’s sake and for her father. The services of a physician Lady Rolande had secured who had prescribed medicine for her father’s rheumatoid pains made his life a little more bearable. She could not lose sight of this.
Cecilia would have put up with a whole lot more if it meant that her father was more comfortable. Besides, Lady Rolande and Hedra were to move into their own leased townhouse as soon as Lady Rolande’s funds were released. Cecilia did not know exactly where these funds were to be released from nor did she ask. Other people’s business was of no interest to her.

CHAPTER 4

Lord Arandale gazed at his uncle and narrowed his cool gray eyes.
“Let me guess, Uncle, you have come for two reasons. One, to wish me a happy birthday, and two, to remind me””as if I needed reminding””of the promise I made Papa at his deathbed.”
“Ah-harumph!” Lord Kelly cleared his throat with great fanfare while he searched in his mind for an appropriate rejoinder.
He was always at a disadvantage when in the company of his high stickler of a nephew, even though he had been his guardian until he had come of age.
Justin had been self-possessed even at a tender age and had needed little guidance.  His father, in contrast to his son’s glowing health, had taken to his bed during the last ten years before his death, and even before that had been a frail being at best. Lord Arandale took more after his Amazon of a mother whose exploits on the saddle had been brought to untimely end by a fall from a horse.
“Ah””well””indeed, happy birthday, my son. Thirty, finally, eh?”
“The dreaded age has arrived, and the promise of matrimony before the year’s end stares us in the face. But never fear, Uncle, the matter is well at hand. Even as we speak Sir Geoffrey Sentenell must be writing his acceptance to my proposal for his daughter’s hand.”
“Sir Geoffrey Sentenell?  Do I know him?” pondered Lord Kelly, who knew almost everyone in the ton, from the Prince on down. He eased his portly frame back into the chair and settling his ample chin on the intricate cascade his valet had arranged his cravat in waited patiently for his nephew to make his revelation concerning Sir Geoffrey.
“Baronet Sentenell,” answered Arandale. “He seldom comes to London.  He could well have been a country squire for all the town bronze he possesses. Lady Sentenell died three years back. The daughter, though, seems not as countrified as her father. She is an attractive girl of about nineteen that I have come to know well in the past few weeks. I was introduced to her at the opening ball at Almack’s and have since seen her on many occasions at other functions. I have come to admire the way she carries herself in society and her values.”
“I see,” said Lord Kelly, “This young lady”””
“Cecilia Sentenell.”
“Yes””ah””this young lady is the one you have chosen as your future wife, nephew?”
“Yes.”
“And you say you know her well now?” Lord Kelly wondered why it was that only now he was being made aware of the young lady, when he had seen Arandale at least a dozen times since the beginning of the season.
“I have been in her company on many occasions and danced with her not a few,” said Arandale, “and I can assure you that from my observations she is everything I desire my wife to be.”
“You have already proposed matrimony to her?” asked Lord Kelly, wondering if he had missed part of the conversation.
“I have been courting her. I asked her father not to state it to her at the beginning. I just wanted him to be aware that my intentions were honorable.  He agreed with me that Cecilia should not be informed that it was officially a courtship, but for other reasons.”
“What were the reasons?” Lord Kelly leaned over, extremely interested.
“Sir Geoffrey said that his daughter had a mind of her own, that if she was told she was being courted by someone not of her choice she might take exception.”
“And did you give her to understand you were courting her, eventually?”
“Only a stupid girl would have not imagined I was courting her, after a while.”
“And she did not seem averse to it?”
“Would any girl?” But Arandale suddenly realized that Cecilia Sentenell never actually sought his company. In fact, he would have made a bet at White’s and won hands down, that at any ball, every single debutante would have given anything to dance with him – except Cecilia Sentenell. This thought gave him an inward and very unpleasant jolt, because he had just suddenly realized something that he had never given a thought to before.
“No, of course not,” Lord Kelly was saying, and as Arandale had lost the trail of the conversation he asked him what he saying.
“I agreed with you that any girl would be honored. But I am curious, she is aware that your intentions were to propose?”
“She must have been aware, surely, Uncle Harding. I have written a letter to the father for audience to present my suit. I detailed my reasons for my request of a meeting with him; that it was for the express purpose of presenting my offer of marriage to his daughter for his consideration, after an appropriate courtship, of course.”
“And you are certain of her compliance?”
“Certain?  I do not take your meaning, sir,” said Arandale, and Lord Kelly saw a tightening of the jaw in Arandale. “Uncle Harding,” said Arandale in a tone of exasperation, “I have written to the father with the request. I cannot imagine we need to consult the girl in the matter. I am expecting his consent to the betrothal at any moment this morning.  Once this happens, proposing to her will be a mere formality. It is the settlement papers that interest me more.”
“You have spoken with the young lady, then?”
“Spoken with her?”
“Made your feelings known to her””I meant””she knows of your intention?”
“I have spoken to her on several social occasions, yes,” answered Arandale impatiently, “but not as you say, to make my feelings known to her. You must know me well enough by now, Uncle, to be aware that my feelings are my own.”
But Arandale felt an unpleasant shiver of apprehension go through his body as he realized, also for the first time, that he had gone directly to her father with his proposal because, unconsciously, he had been afraid Cecilia Sentenell would reject him outright.  He was certain her father would not. In fact, he was absolutely convinced her father would never dream of rejecting his proposal of marriage.
“In any case,” he added a little on the defensive, “whatever do feelings have to do with this affair? This is a marriage contract?an important step both for her as it is for me.  I do not take such an important step without carefully examining all its ramifications.”
“How is it that you met this girl?” asked his uncle. “What was it about her that struck you as someone who would be the ideal you desired in a wife, and where did you meet for the first time?”
“The meeting was not spontaneous, Uncle Harding, if that’s what you’re hoping for,” said Arandale. “I planned it carefully.”
“Planned it?” asked Lord Kelly.
“Let me explain, before your face turns more of a beet color than is healthy, Uncle.  When I saw that the time for keeping my marriage promise to Father was approaching, I had a meeting with Tandy,” he said, referring to his solicitor,”
“With Tandy?” asked Lord Kelly, “whatever for?”
“Because I didn’t want to go into the season amid the bevy of debutantes and have to do the research myself, when Tandy can do it much better and leave me free to do my own business.”
What business, thought Lord Kelly, forcing himself not to frown, gambling and whoring?
“Tandy selected a family to my own specifications and has investigated it thoroughly. I asked him to find me a lady of noble birth, pleasing but not overly attractive and more used to country than London ways. I also wanted her family to be of high moral character.  Those are the requirements I have for a wife and for her family.”
“And this family?”
“Has fitted all the requirements,” finished Arandale. “You can rest easy on that respect, Uncle.  As for the rest, I want my wife a lady that will not disturb my life in any way, for I don’t intend to change may habits to conform to hers. You are well aware of how our society tolerates behavior in ladies of high birth that is often scandalous, so long as they are discreet, Uncle Harding, are you not?”
“And in men of high birth, also,” said his uncle.
“But the behavior matters more in the women than it does in the men, are you not in agreement?”
“Unfortunately so,” said his uncle, “intolerance in such male behavior would be just as salutary. A great majority of the men of noble birth give abominable examples to their sons.”
He stopped himself, for continuing in this vein would surely get him in trouble.  Arandale belonged to one of the prominent Brighton sets, and a more debauched set Lord Kelly had yet to see. They spent their nights in a drunken stupor within a vicious circle of gambling and womanizing. Seldom did any of them join humanity before two in the afternoon, and then it was only to attend a Venetian breakfast where liquor was more abundant than tea, or to prepare for the theater or the opera and then on to routs or balls that lasted the night.
Yet Lord Kelly also remembered that when Arandale was in London he rode his horse, Fargo, every day at dawn. Lord Kelly wondered how he could get up at dawn each day when so many of his nights were spent in dissipation.
And to be fair, Arandale had joined Wellington’s army twice too, amazingly so, the second time when Napoleon had escaped Elba.
“Well, we are getting away from the subject at hand,” said Arandale, “we are not to change society in this afternoon alone and the fact remains, that many ladies of noble birth carry on a scandalous life behind closed doors. I do not intend for my wife to be of that mettle. Thus the reason for my choice.”
The reason for his choice, thought Lord Kelly was that whoever he married, it would not be Sarah, his dead fiance, so it mattered little who she was, so long as she filled the requirements. His life would continue the same, thought his uncle with a long sigh that he tried to suppress. Arandale would keep the usual mistresses, no matter that his wife had been chosen for her good habits.
Justin had, thought his uncle sadly, gone from youthful conceit and pride to arrogance and pomposity, and, even callousness beneath the veneer of his class.
“I have gone to great lengths to observe and carefully note Miss Sentenell’s behavior in public, Uncle Harding,” Arandale was saying, “and it was everything I desired in a wife.”
“Justin,” said Lord Kelly, in an anxious voice. “I don’t understand at all. You have written this young lady’s father to propose a marriage with his daughter without even giving the girl an inkling of your intentions?”
“Well, not exactly,” answered Arandale shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “I have favored her with my company on many occasions, as I have said before.  She must be perfectly aware of my intentions.” Lord Arandale then laughed. It was not a joyful laughter. It was only appropriate to his uncle’s puzzled face. Lord Arandale hadn’t laughed in mirth for years.
Justin may be thirty, thought his uncle, but he was an old man in the body of a young one.
“Does love have no room in your plans?” he asked.
“Love?” said Arandale with a dry laugh, “Come now, Uncle Harding, knowing me as you do, you didn’t think I would consider going into marriage like a moonling, now did you?”
“I guess not,”
“But don’t misunderstand me, sir. I have come to know Miss Sentenell and I admit I have become very attracted to her.  I could not marry a girl otherwise. After all, the few times I plan to sit across from her at the breakfast table I intend for it to be an enjoyable experience. And after all, I would not bed a girl, even for the sake of securing my heir that I was repulsed by. We have ample proof of that sort of folly with Prinny and Princess Caroline. He cannot abide her, as you well know. It is a nine day’s wonder they managed to produce Charlotte.”
As he listened Lord Kelly was trying to keep from feeling sadness for his nephew.  He himself would have married once because he was very fond of a girl, but she had chosen another. Then he had married a sweet girl who had fallen in love with him. He had wanted to secure his heir and she seemed to love him well enough, he had thought.  His love for her would come in time. His wife, of whom he had grown fond, had died shortly after giving birth so that he was left alone again, with a babe to care for. Charles, his son from that marriage, was away at school.
In the ensuing years Lord Kelly had attempted to keep a mistress. Attempted described it well. He was not made for such an arrangement and it had lasted only a few months. Curiously, though, of the three women that had mattered in his life, it was only Sadie’s face he still remembered clearly and with a feeling of loss and intense longing and regret. He had hated to cut short their relationship and had given her more than any man would have after such a short time, but he felt he was falling in love with her.
In the early years after he broke up with Sadie he ran into her now and then and stopped to chat briefly with her. He had seen her often in the park, with her little daughter, Violet, whom he would admire. Then their chance meetings faded. He had not seen Sadie or her daughter for many years.
Lord Kelly, whose important decisions in life had always been made in a high state of emotion, stared somberly at Arandale. For once in his life he was unable to utter a word. He had always been extremely fond of his nephew and mourned the changes in him the years had wrought.
This calculated way of choosing what amounted to a dull bride, this cold list of attributes he had required of her and her family, as though picking a mare at a horse sale.  He was unable to absorb that completely, nor the fact that love seemed not to be a necessary ingredient. Lord Kelly scrutinized his nephew in the pause that followed.
“I remember Baronet Sentenell now,” he said to chase away disquieting thoughts with practical ones. “There is a peculiar condition of his estate.”
“A peculiar condition? What do you mean, Uncle?”
“Well, not peculiar, really. Miss Sentenell has no brothers, unfortunately. The entailed property is to go directly to a cousin of her father’s, Alex Shackel. But the girl will hardly be left destitute. As a matter of fact, she has a considerable fortune on her own, I believe, although I do not know the particulars. I should think the father would be anxious to have her settled before he dies.”
“I know of this already,” said Arandale. “She has a substantial living that comes to her from her grandmother on her mother’s side.”
“Not that you are in need of any of that,” said Lord Kelly, “fortunately.”
“No, but I would not wed a girl who had no fortune, either,” said Arandale.
Lord Kelly thought back to a time when Arandale, as a young man, had possessed disarming charm, in a wholesome, happy way. None of that kind of charm was visible now. There was charm enough, the kind that attracts experienced women and envy in men. But the guilelessness was gone, disappeared into that long ago past. It had died the eve of his wedding to Sarah.

Copyright 2008 Gloria Gay. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.