Reginald concluded that Miss Vernon had left right after slipping the letter under his door, in order to avoid any meeting with Sir James.
“I am glad that Miss Vernon is not here,” he began without premise. “I wish to speak to you, Lady Vernon, on the impropriety—the unkindness—of allowing Sir James Martin to address your daughter. It is evident that Miss Vernon dislikes him. How can you, as her mother, not see how miserable she is?”
Lady Vernon did not know whether to protest or laugh at this declaration. “Can you think of no other motive for her misery, if she is indeed miserable?” she inquired. “Frederica has been deprived of her father, her home, and her fortune. Is that not sufficient to make her unhappy? And do you call it an unkindness to wish for an advantageous match for one’s daughter?”
“It is not the matter of advantage—so superior a young lady as Miss Vernon ought to marry well. It is marriage to Sir James that is offensive.”
“What, pray, compels you to speak in my daughter’s defense? Does your sister commission you to reprimand me?”
“It is not Catherine but Miss Vernon who, by her own hand, asks me to speak on her behalf,” he replied, and before she could protest, he produced the letter.
Lady Vernon took the sheet of paper and immediately recognized the counterfeit penmanship and the preposterous expressions that exposed the letter as one of her cousin’s jokes. It affected her as Sir James’s pranks so often did, leaving her with both a desire to laugh and to be angry. Only Reginald’s grave and earnest countenance kept her from any display of emotion, and with great forbearance, she addressed him. “You know that my daughter is capable of impulse, Mr. deCourcy, as she acted so in the matter of Miss Lucy Hamilton’s elopement. Her dear father was inclined to spoil her, and I must often appear severe when contrasted with his indulgence. She is very young, and although she is a good-natured girl at heart, she is at an age when there must be opposition to one’s parent in something.”
“Can your ladyship wonder that she opposes a marriage with one who is so unequal to her in temperament? She writes that she cannot bear him.”
“Please remember that you are speaking of my nearest relation,” Lady Vernon reminded the young man. “You have only just been introduced to Sir James. His boyish manners often make him appear worse than he is, and in everything except common sense he would be a most desirable match.”
“But he cannot be a desirable match for Miss Vernon if she does not love him.”
Lady Vernon began to think that she ought to be grateful for her cousin’s prank. Reginald’s defense of Miss Vernon had excited a warmth and interest that he might not have come to so quickly without such inducement.
“What an opinion you must have of me! Can you possibly suppose that I wish for anything except her happiness? Do you think that I am destitute of every natural feeling?”
“I do not think so, but your daughter is not secure on this point. In her own hand, she writes that you are so insistent upon the match that you have forbidden her even from opening her heart to my sister and Charles.”
Lady Vernon forced herself to remain calm in the face of his indignation and her own sense of the absurdity of the situation. “I admit that I did caution my daughter against troubling our relations with any of our concerns, as such complaints might be seen as a reproach for obliging us to leave Churchill Manor so soon after my husband’s death or an insinuation that we meant to plead poverty and ask for money. If I have done wrong, it is only that in my own distressed state, I have not always known what will make Frederica happy. Although a prosperous marriage for her would be of material relief to us both, I assure you that I would never consign to everlasting misery the child whose welfare it is my duty to promote and whose happiness was always the first object of one whose memory will always be sacred to me.” She was compelled to stop here and wipe away a tear. “I honor the discretion that you have shown in coming to me and I give you my word that before the day is out, I will address them both. If Sir James has any pretensions for my daughter, he must give them up.”
Reginald took great pleasure in thinking that he had such influence with Lady Vernon, and a less creditable joy in the prospect of witnessing Sir James’s disappointment. “Miss Vernon will be made happy before Sir James can be disappointed. He has gone to Billingshurst and does not plan to return until dinnertime, and perhaps later.”
Lady Vernon, though quite out of patience with her cousin, was compelled to repress a smile at the sort of repentance that had him running away to Billingshurst. “I hope, Mr. deCourcy, that your determination to leave Churchill was not brought about by this situation. My own visit has already been too long, and it will not inconvenience us to depart at once. Whether Frederica and I are in Sussex or London is of no consequence to anyone, and I cannot in any way be instrumental in separating a family that is so well attached to one another.”
Lady Vernon’s willingness to sacrifice an advantageous match for her daughter, as well as the comforts and familiarity of Churchill, left Reginald satisfied with her generosity and affection; only the disturbing allusions to their poverty distressed him, for if they had indeed been left poor, might not Miss Vernon be pressed to take another rich suitor who was equally odious?
For her own part, Lady Vernon was delighted to see how easily Reginald’s feelings were worked upon, and while his curiosity demanded an explanation in everything, very few words from her were necessary to render him tractable and satisfied. Nothing more could be wanted in a son-in-law than to be so accommodating to his wife’s mother, and when he withdrew, Lady Vernon believed that if they could be kept from the interference of their families, she would, within a very few months, have a child come into the world and another one married.
chapter forty-one
When Reginald left, Lady Vernon sat down to write to her Aunt Martin.
Lady Vernon to Lady Martin
Churchill Manor, Sussex
My dearest Aunt,
If you have not heard from James for some days, it is because he has taken it into his head to come down to Sussex and get himself into mischief. He came to us yesterday and set about teasing us all by behaving toward Frederica as a lover, so that Mr. deCourcy—who has come to feel something like interest in her—actually exhorted from me this morning a promise that I would put an end to all of James’s expectations! The promise was given, and Mr. deCourcy delays his departure for Kent only long enough to have the pleasure of seeing my cousin’s hopes dashed. I can only hope that James will gratify him by putting on as creditable a show of dejection as of ardor.
I do not think that Reginald will be in Kent for very long—only long enough, I suspect, to inform his parents that they must give up all expectations of a match between him and Miss Hamilton. The way will then be clear for him and Freddie; soon they will both be in London, which will always be the fairest field of action for a young couple to put the finishing touches to a romance.
Your affectionate niece,
Susan Vernon
While she was thus engaged, Reginald deCourcy was making some small preparations for his departure, which was to take place on the following day. He had no doubt that Lady Vernon intended to speak to Sir James that evening, and Reginald wanted only to remain long enough to see his rival’s ambitions thwarted before he was gone. Reginald was not insensible of the fact that he would be bringing to Parklands a similar disappointment; he could no more marry his cousin than Frederica Vernon could marry hers, and he had come to understand that the brief pain that his parents must experience would be nothing to the prolonged anxiety of expectation.