It was a thought that did nothing to improve his mood.
Neither could he leave the sisters to find their own way in their new world. For reasons he could not even explain to himself, he could not simply abandon them to the dismal discovery that it simply could not be done - though he might have been tempted if Mrs. Dew had been the only sister.
He had talked about the situation ad nauseam with George during the past several days. It was not as if they had had a great deal of other activity to distract their minds, after all.
Elliott's mother was the obvious choice as sponsor. She had experience at preparing young ladies for their come-out and at finding suitable husbands for them. She had already done it with the two eldest of his sisters. But the trouble was that there was still Cecily to fire off - this year, in fact.
His mother could not be burdened with three other females, the youngest of whom was already twenty, who had no experience at all of society and who were not even related to her. Cecily was enough of a handful in her own right.
And she would doubtless not appreciate it either.
There were his married sisters, of course, but Jessica was in a delicate condition again, and Averil, at the age of twenty-one, was hardly old enough to sponsor the Huxtable sisters, two of whom were older than she was.
That left his paternal aunts. But either possibility made him wince.
Aunt Fanny, the elder, paraded out a whole litany of new maladies as well as all the old every time he was unfortunate enough to set eyes on her, and talked in a perpetual nasal whine, while Aunt Roberta, the younger, had missed her calling - or her gender - and ought to have been a sergeant-major. She would have excelled.
Much as he resented the Huxtables, he did not in all conscience feel he could inflict either aunt upon them - even if either was willing to accept the daunting responsibility. It had taken Aunt Fanny all of five exhausting seasons to fire off her own daughter, and Aunt Roberta was always busy bullying her hellion brood - all male - into toeing the line of respectability. "I cannot simply leave them at Warren Hall to their own devices while I take their brother under my wing, can I?" he had said over a dinner of tough roast beef one evening. "It will be years before he can do anything for them himself, and by that time they will all be hopelessly long in the tooth. The elder two must be in their middle twenties already. Marrying off the widow, of course, is definitely not my concern, though I suppose even she is going to have to be presented to society. It will be up to her whether she marries again - if anyone will have her, that is. She does not have anything like the looks of the other two, does she?" "A little unfair, old boy," George had said. "She looks quite appealing when she smiles and is animated - as she frequently is. Apparently her husband was extraordinarily good-looking and freely chose her. It was a love match." Hard to believe. Elliott snorted. "What you ought to do," George said on another occasion, when they were riding along some country lanes for exercise and being coldly drizzled upon, "is marry soon - sooner even than you planned, that is. Your /wife /could sponsor Merton's sisters." /"What?" /Elliott asked, turning his head rather too sharply and causing a shower of cold water to stream from his hat brim to his lap. "Without any time for deliberation, you mean?" He had no candidate for bride in mind yet, though his mother would doubtless be able to count off all the most eligible young ladies on her ten fingers. But he need not think of that for another few months yet.
George shrugged. "It is not as if you would have any problem persuading any woman to say yes. Quite the contrary. You may have to beat them all back with a stick when they know you are going shopping at the marriage mart this year. But you could foil them all by marrying before the news spreads." "Devil take it," Elliott said wrathfully, "has it come to this? Must I rush my fences over one of the most important decisions of my life - if not /the /most important - for the sake of an imagined responsibility to three females I scarcely even know? It is preposterous." "All the more time in which to live happily ever after," George said. "Then why the devil," Elliott asked, "are you still a single man? And since when has it been a part of any secretary's duties to advise his employer about when he ought to marry?" But his friend, he saw when he turned his head again, was grinning. He was actually enjoying all this. As well he might. He had been able to leave behind his office at Finchley Park in order to travel all over the country, but had none of the responsibility that was weighing down Elliott's unwilling shoulders.
And those women /were/ - dash it all! - his responsibility, Elliott thought now as his carriage containing them moved off from the cottage gate and the villagers raised hands and handkerchiefs in farewell.
His thoughts were interrupted when Merton himself maneuvered his horse between George's and his own. "We have lived here all our lives," he said by way of apology for the delay. "Leaving is hard - for everyone we leave behind and for us too." "I understand, lad," George assured him. "Even if the change in your circumstances is for the better, it is still not easy to leave behind all that is familiar and dear." But the boy brightened as they rode clear of the village, the carriages ahead of them. "I thought," he said, "I would have to wait until I had finished studying at university and had begun some career before I could do something for my sisters to repay them for all they have done for me and make their lives more comfortable. But now I will not have to wait. I will be able to give all of them the kind of life they deserve but have only been able to dream of until now." Or /he /would, Elliott thought wryly even if it was Merton who was footing the bill. And he remembered something else George had said during that damp afternoon ride. He had been joking, of course, but the words had nevertheless stuck in Elliott's memory like a moth trapped inside a lamp. "Of course," he had said, "you could always marry Miss Huxtable, Elliott, and allow /her /to sponsor her sisters as your wife. That would solve a lot of problems. And she is dashed lovely to look at. I am only surprised that she is still on the market." Duties, Elliott decided again now as he had decided a dozen times since the words had been spoken, did have their limits. Why should he even consider marrying the lovely but rather dour Miss Huxtable just because it would be convenient for everyone but him?
Except that he /was /about to be in search of a wife. And in many ways it /would /be a convenient thing to do. She was the sister of an earl, after all. And there was no denying that she came in a very delectable package.
Devil take it, he might well be fit only for Bedlam by the time all this was over. Although he never suffered from headaches, it seemed to him that one gigantic one had hovered over his head like a foggy halo for all of six days.
He thought wistfully of his mother and of his pregnant sister and gloomily of his two aunts, and wondered which of the last two might be the lesser evil.
But perhaps his mother would have some decent advice to give him even if she could not be expected to offer her services. /Why /could his father not have lived another thirty years or so?
He could be in London now, carousing with his friends and spending his nights in Anna Bromley-Hayes's inviting arms. He could be without a care in the world. He could be…
But he was not.
And that was that.
6
THEY would be at Warren Hall in about two hours, Viscount Lyngate had said after luncheon about an hour and a half ago. They would be there soon, then.
The countryside was green and rolling. It looked like prosperous farming land. Warren Hall /was /prosperous, the viscount had said on that first morning. So were Stephen's other properties. There were three of them - in Dorset and Cornwall and Kent - but Warren Hall in Hampshire was his principal seat. "Oh, this must be it," Katherine said suddenly, leaning forward in her seat and pressing her nose against the glass of the window, the better to see what was behind her.