She was smiling again as she entered the Great Hall.
14: Thoughts Of Marriage
Bertram was utterly disgusted when he saw Medhurst whisk Bea out of the Great Hall. Nowhewas going to kiss her, too! And when he returned with a smug expression on his face, Bertram could hardly contain his ire. Bea was smiling, too, although she was not hanging on Medhurst’s arm, which was something. Had she chosen? Perhaps she had chosen, and it was to be Brockscombe.
Bea returned to her mother’s side, while Medhurst ambled across the room to where Bertram stood with his friends.
“What a pleasant evening this is,” Medhurst said, still grinning.
Fielding glowered at him. “You too!” he hissed. “Traitor!”
“We agreed,” Medhurst said. “No one is obliged to stand aside. You are just jealous.”
“Of course I am! I wish you would all stop kissing the lady I hope to marry.”
Medhurst tutted at him. “Can I help it if she is a good-natured and affectionate little creature, who bestows her favours widely?”
“You take advantage of her — you both do,” Fielding muttered. “You should not kiss a girl unless you intend to marry her.”
A rumble of masculine laughter from nearby caused them all to turn, where they saw Lord Grayling’s handsome countenance wreathed in smiles.
“Good Lord, Fielding, the world would be a very dull place if we were all bound by such conventions,” he drawled. “I thank heavens I am not, or I should have a hundred wives, at least.”
“That is nothing to boast about,” Fielding said hotly. “I should be ashamed to admit to such behaviour.”
“I doubt you have anything to admit to,” Grayling said, still amused. “How very virtuous you are. Unlike myself, or your friends, seemingly. Or the amusing Miss Franklyn, who bestows her favours so widely. I wonder if she would bestow them in my direction?”
“Now that is not fair, Grayling, when you have not the least intention of marrying her,” Fielding said in outraged tones.
“Marrying her? Oh no, I do not intendthat.”
Still smirking, he wandered away, leaving Bertram smouldering with suppressed rage.
“Does he mean what I think he means?” Fielding said, his face ashen. “He would not… would he?”
But several of the ladies came near just then to solicit support for a riding expedition the next day, and nothing further could be said. It was not until the four friends retired to their room at the end of the evening that Fielding finally exploded.
“If that scoundrel harms so much as a single hair of Miss Franklyn’s head, I shall… I shall… well, I shall not be responsible for my actions. If he thinks that just because she has a warmheart, she is fair game—! I am almost minded to call the fellow out. The abominable arrogance of the man! I have always disliked him, and now—!”
“He is only trying to provoke you,” Brockscombe said, passing around the brandy glasses. “It amuses him, no doubt, to say such things and see your outrage, but he would not disrespect Miss Franklyn, you may be sure of that.”
“I am not sure of it — not in the slightest bit sure,” Fielding said. “He has such a dreadful reputation, and there is always a mistress or two in his keeping, you know that.”
“He is a libertine, it is true, but he does not seduce the daughters of gentlemen,” Brockscombe said soothingly. “Opera dancers and the like, that is where he finds his ladybirds.”
Bertram listened to them in silence, having nothing to contribute to the discussion. Spending little time in town, he knew Grayling only from Cambridge and the Latin meetings. Although the baron was noted as a rake, Bertram neither knew nor cared about the details. So long as he left Bea alone, that was all that mattered.
He was encouraged by Brockscombe’s reassurances. Besides, Bea was at Landerby with her father and stepmother so she was hardly unprotected, and in another ten days or so, she would be safely back in the North Riding and far away from the charms of Lord Grayling.
“Miss Franklyn knows not to look towards Grayling,” he said. “I have warned her that he is not the marrying type, and she is too shrewd to entangle herself there.”
“She is female, so entangling herself with the wrong sort of man is just the sort of thing she would do,” Fielding muttered.
“A fine opinion you have of the lady you want to marry,” Bertram said indignantly. “She is cleverer than you give her credit for.”
“Why, because she has learnt a few Latin phrases? That is merely book learning, and anyone may do as much, even a woman, but there is not a female alive who has an ounce of sense where the male sex is concerned. A female needs to be guided, to ensure her footsteps remain on the correct path.”
Bertram burst out laughing. “I wish you good fortune withthatidea where Miss Franklyn is concerned. She is a lady who knows her own mind, and pursues her own objectives with the utmost resolution, and if you think that any man, even you, is able to stop her, you are entirely wrong, I assure you. Indeed, I should very much like to see you try it, and watch how ill you manage the business.”
