That brought a smile to the face of Mrs. Manwaring, who saw a better chance for Maria if Sir James was encouraged to marry soon. Before she could reply, however, Sir James Martin himself was ushered into the room.
“My dear cousin!” Lady Vernon exclaimed. “I would have thought that you would still be in bed—it is not yet four o’clock.”
Sir James bowed to the visitors. “I have got a present for Freddie.” He drew a pamphlet from his pocket and handed it around. “‘An Introduction to Botany.’ It is written by a gentlewoman who proposes that our leisure be given over to mental improvement! What do you say to that, ladies?”
Lady Vernon’s visitors looked at each other. To promote the idea would be to declare oneself the most tiresome sort of bluestocking, but to reject it might be taken by Sir James as an affront to his generosity. At last, Mrs. Manwaring ventured to say, “I am sure that too much study can be as bad as too little.”
“I am quite of the same opinion,” declared Mrs. Johnson. “Leisure hours are necessary to one’s tranquillity and temperament. Excessive study may put one out of sorts.”
“I cannot disagree with you,” Sir James replied. “I do not think that you will find a more thorough idler than myself and I am never out of sorts. What is your opinion, cousin?”
Lady Vernon was very near to laughing at her cousin’s show of sincerity and managed to say only, “I have never been an advocate of throwing time away,” to which her two visitors nodded in such emphatic agreement that she was forced to turn her face away to hide her mirth.
Sir James observed his cousin’s predicament and hastened to make inquiries after Mr. and Miss Manwaring and Mr. Johnson until Lady Vernon was once again mistress of herself.
After a few more minutes of conversation, the ladies rose to depart, and when they had settled in their carriage, Mrs. Johnson declared, “What very good luck for Maria! Miss Vernon—encouraged to be scientific! That will only teach her to be the sort of dull, bookish girl that men do not like at all.”
Mrs. Manwaring was so delighted with this notion that she invited her guardian’s wife to drink tea with her and urged her to give Mr.
Johnson her warmest regards and to beg his pardon yet again that she had married against his wishes.
Lady Vernon repaid the call to Mrs. Johnson the following day and brought Frederica with her. The little girl made her curtsy and then sat quietly on an ottoman, turning the pages of the pamphlet that Sir James had given her.
“What a delightful child,” Mrs. Johnson remarked to Lady Vernon. “What a keen interest she has in her book! La, you would not see me so transfixed by a book when I was her age! What a pity she was not a boy.”
“Do you not think that science might be of interest to a girl?”
“La, yes! Children will fill their heads with knowledge that does them no good whatsoever, but we all grow out of it in time. No, I meant that a son would secure your family property, for else it will go to your husband’s brother. And that does not often work to advantage, as a brother who has his own wife and family might overlook those occasions to be generous—unless his wife is of a particularly charitable nature.”
“I must hope, then, that Miss deCourcy’s disposition is a generous one.”
“Have you never met her?”
“No, never. The news of Charles’s engagement took Sir Frederick and me quite by surprise. Charles has been a bachelor for so many years that we had concluded he was content to be so. He had never mentioned any acquaintance with Miss deCourcy at all until after the engagement had been formed.”
The visit did not last long beyond this exchange, and when Mrs. Johnson next spoke to Eliza Manwaring, she repeated it with blithe inaccuracy, and Mrs. Manwaring did not hesitate to add embellishments of her own when she conveyed it, and soon it was all around London that Lady Vernon disapproved of her brother-in-law’s union with Miss deCourcy, that she had likely expected Charles Vernon to pine away for her forever, and that she was the worst sort of hardened coquette, who could bear for no one to be admired but herself.
chapter six
The marriage of Charles Vernon to Catherine deCourcy was celebrated in so exclusive a fashion that among those excluded were the groom’s own brother and sister-in-law. Charles Vernon wrote to Sir Frederick, explaining that the ceremony was to be held very near the deCourcy estate and that the indifferent health of Sir Reginald would not allow for much company and commotion. Sir Frederick was sorry to miss the ceremony, as weddings were such happy gatherings, but he wrote to his brother offering kind congratulations, and Lady Vernon likewise dispatched her very best wishes to her new sister-in-law. The replies they received were civil and completely lacking in warmth, for Miss deCourcy had been informed by her mother, who had heard from her husband’s sister, Lady Hamilton, who had been told by Lady Millbanke, who had it on very good authority from Eliza Manwaring that Lady Vernon was said to have heard something so ill of Catherine deCourcy as to make her positively set against Charles Vernon’s marriage.
As for Charles Vernon, he had got a handsome dowry, a position in a banking establishment, and a wife. Another man would have been contented, but Charles was of a temperament that dwelt less upon what he had attained than what he had been denied. An alliance with one of the oldest families in England did not do away with the knowledge that his first choice had preferred his brother, and a position with a respectable establishment only served to remind him that he was obliged to do something to keep himself, while Frederick had to do nothing at all. But what rankled most was the fact that Frederick would not sell Vernon Castle for what Charles was willing to pay, which left him unable to purchase an establishment of his own, as he had been compelled to apply the greater part of his wife’s dowry toward reconciling his debts. He and his bride, therefore, had no alternative but to settle in Parklands Cottage on the deCourcy estate.
Parklands Cottage was far less humble than the term cottage generally implied. The residence was modern and roomy and the gardens and copses were so cunningly laid out as to almost make one forget that it was only separated from the great house by a quarter-mile lane. Unfortunately, Charles Vernon could not forget it. Mrs. Vernon felt herself obliged to visit her parents every day, and these visits often concluded with Lady deCourcy walking back to the cottage with her daughter and staying to tea. Visitors to Parklands were rare, and there was no sport at all, as Sir Reginald’s frail health would not permit the commotion. They dined with fewer than half a dozen families, people who had no conversation and little interest in anything beyond the neighborhood. Charles was not long married when he was persuaded that if he could put a greater distance between his wife and her parents, he might almost be willing to sacrifice one or two of his private vices to accomplish it.
A situation in the banking house had the material advantage of taking him often to town. There, in the livelier society of gentlemen who had amassed fortunes in India or Antigua, or who had been the happy beneficiary of a relation’s premature demise, and free from the scrutiny of his wife and her mother, Charles gave way to indulgence. When these visits concluded, he would return to Parklands less contented and more in debt than when he had left it, and he would half resolve to live frugally. But whenever a surplus of money came his way, it was spent.
In due course, they were blessed with a young Charles, who was followed by Frederick, Kitty, and Regina. With each addition to her family, Mrs. Vernon was more content to remain as they were, while Vernon became impatient for change, an impatience that had him always eager to accept his affectionate brother’s invitations to visit Churchill Manor. Mrs. Vernon, persuaded as she was that Lady Vernon had opposed her marriage, would never consent to going, but her mother had advised that a gentleman must have some diversion, and Churchill was a better bargain than London, where Charles was wont to spend too freely.