“You must spare some of your thanks for Sir Reginald. Gentlemen will be very direct when the ladies have left the table. ‘I quite agree that it is for Miss Vernon’s male relations to act in the place of her father,’ said he. ‘Sir James has settled very handsomely upon her in the matter of property, and so I think it is for you, Charles, to name the dowry.’ Vernon gave a sort of sickly smile and protested, ‘I think that Reginald’s pride will not allow it,’ and young deCourcy replied, ‘My pride will always give way before any gesture of respect for Miss Vernon.’ There was nothing to be done. Eight thousand pounds—what do you think? I would have liked ten better than eight, but Vernon does have a second son and two daughters to provide for in time, so under the circumstances, I think it is very handsome.”
Frederica was astonished. She had given up all hope that her uncle would concede to any of Sir Frederick’s promises regarding her and her mother—to have agreed to particulars was unbelievable!
She expressed her misgivings to her cousin. “He is like many falsehearted men who will say one thing in the evening and retract it on the following day.”
“He will not be given the opportunity,” replied her cousin, “for once he named the amount, Sir Reginald declared that there was nothing to prevent the terms from being drawn up immediately, and Johnson even offered to act as witness. Ah, here comes your young man, and I must give way. He is an excellent fellow and as sensible as a man who is violently in love can be—you must not hope for anything more.”
The evening passed away; if Charles Vernon was morose and silent, that was offset by Mr. Johnson’s uncommon affability. His friendship with Lewis deCourcy was long-standing, but now he took pains to know Sir Reginald better, and in their mutual esteem of Frederica, there was something to promote conversation. He was even cordial toward Eliza and went so far as to throw any praise of the house or the dinner in Mrs. Johnson’s direction.
Sir Reginald’s habits were regular and he kept early hours, and soon after they had taken their coffee and tea, he called for his carriage. Reginald and Vernon departed with him, and Sir James and Mr. Lewis deCourcy left not long after. Frederica waited only for her cousin to be gone before she asked Mr. Johnson if she might trouble him to be conveyed back to Portland Place.
“Indeed, yes, for you will have a great deal to tell Lady Vernon. It will be a great relief—when she is better, I hope that I may be permitted to call upon her—if there was any misunderstanding—any feeling that I did not wish for the acquaintance—you will smooth things over, to be sure.”
Frederica assured him that both her mother and Lady Martin would be happy to know him, and after a round of thanks and promises and engagements that must prolong any parting for an additional fifteen minutes, Frederica departed.
She found her mother so well attended by her aunt, Miss Wilson, and Mrs. Forrester that her presence would have given rise to confusion rather than comfort. As the night progressed into morning, however, all four women had a part to play; and though it was frequently to obey some order of Dr. Driggs’s or to assure each other that Lady Vernon was in no great distress or in any danger, they were diligent, capable, and tireless.
The morning brought the fulfillment of all of Lady Vernon’s hopes and the end of Charles Vernon’s expectations, and though making his arrival well before it had been anticipated, the child gave no indication of being the worse for it. Lady Martin, too overcome with exhaustion and relief, said, “When no ill effects come of it, it is just as well to have a child come early as not,” though she could not help adding that it was the good doctor’s calculations that might have been amiss.
She then declared that he had the Vernon forehead and the Martin chin, while Lady Vernon was content to reassure herself that he had the proper number of limbs and pronounced his name to be James Frederick Vernon.
chapter sixty-one
CHARLES V ERNON WOKE THE NEXT MORNING, LOOKING toward his tenure as master of Churchill Manor with renewed interest. The quarter was due in a matter of weeks, and while it might not be what he would like (as he had done nothing to increase the property’s yield or rents), it would put his creditors off a little longer and help to settle the sort of debts of honor that must be reconciled without delay.
The news of Reginald’s engagement to Frederica was a wretched turn of events, but to see her mistress of Vernon Castle and to have his vague concurrence that he ought to do something for her turned into a fixed sum—eight thousand pounds!—was not to be borne. Still, the sum was not yet surrendered—he must act to repair the damage before it was irrevocable.
Mr. Vernon to Mrs. Vernon
Berkeley Square, London
My dear wife,
I have some very surprising news that I do not doubt will reach your mother by way of Sir Reginald. Your brother has proposed to our niece! After appearances had convinced all of London that she was reconciled to a marriage with her cousin—indeed, she received with him at Cavendish Square and opened the ball in such a manner (so I have heard, as I was not present) as persuaded everyone that the announcement of their engagement was imminent. I begin to wonder if all of the rumors of our niece’s engagement to her cousin were circulated by herself, and if her show of distress while she was with us at Churchill was a charade to pique Reginald’s interest, for you know that a gentleman will always find a woman who is promised to another more appealing than one who is thrown at his head.
This news can please my mother-in-law in only one regard—Reginald does not marry Lady Vernon—and yet, for your sake, I would almost prefer that marriage to this one. Even if Lady Vernon were in health to make the marriage a long one (which I doubt, as reports have her becoming increasingly frail), a wife toward whom his father was so decidedly opposed would always ensure that you remain first with Sir Reginald—now I fear that the distinction of “daughter” is one that you must share with our niece, who, it appears, has now set herself toward securing your father’s affections with the same slyness that allowed her to play upon Reginald’s heart.
I now reside at Berkeley Square with Sir Reginald and have done my part to ensure his comfort, yet one thing is wanting and that is to have you here. You know that your father’s spirits are always at their best and most generous when our children are present, and I fear that if his liberality does not have a proper object, he will be inclined to squander it—and we will be comprehended in his imprudence. Already he has coerced from me a promise that I will provide our niece’s dowry! As this was brought up in company, and before Reginald, I could not protest the injury such a loss would do to our children and was even compelled to agree to a sum—nearly a third of my brother’s legacy! This, when added to some other expenses that my situation must incur (and with no income from the banking house, as that position has been given up), is not insignificant—I can only hope that when the quarter comes due from Churchill Manor, it may be, in some part, offset.
The irony is that our niece has no need for a dowry; not only can marriage to Reginald make it unnecessary, but Sir James Martin has resolved to settle Vernon Castle upon her! To wring an additional eight thousand pounds from me is very unreasonable. Had you been here, I am certain that you might have talked your father out of it—this may yet be possible; your presence and those mild and disinterested arguments that have always prevailed with your father (when added to the company of our dear children) may persuade him to retract this extravagant gesture. If you cannot come at once, an express to your father may do as well, but I think you had better come.