“No, I shall be in the library with him, Eustace. He is teaching me Latin.”
“Latin?Good God, you are in worse case than I thought, if he has drawn you into his dusty world of long-dead writers of dreary poetry.”
She laughed. “If you think it is dreary, you have never listened to it, Eustace. Now, you must not be cross because I chose him over you. Wish me joy and be done with it.”
His face cleared. “I do wish you joy, of course, but you cannot blame me for being a little bit jealous. My offer has been on the table for several years now, and while I understood Walter’s attraction, Bertram is a different case. I do not feel, if we stood side by side, that he would outshine me very greatly. So why him, and not me?”
“I cannot explain it myself,” she said, with a quick shake of her head. “You are everything that is desirable in a man and yet… I do not love you. It is unaccountable, is it not? Bertram is the most unlikely man in the world for me to be drawn to, and yet… it happened. One cannot choose who one falls in love with.”
He laughed a little, but she thought it was strained laughter. “True enough. He is a most fortunate man, that is all I will say about it. But you will not want a long engagement this time, I suppose? Is it to be a special licence? Or banns? And where will you live?”
“None of that is even thought about yet, but Papa is making noises about the spring. He does not want us to rush into it.”
“That is very wise,” Eustace said. “After all, who knows what might happen? If you had rushed to marry Walter, you would have been left high and dry, now, with no prospect of the title.”
“There is no knowing what may lie in the future for any of us,” Bea said pensively. “I do not intend to worry about imponderables. I shall not rush into matrimony, since both our lives have been somewhat turbulent of late, but neither do I want a lengthy engagement. We shall see.”
***
Into the haze of Bertram’s happiness, practical matters would occasionally intrude. The Franklyns therefore arrived at Westwick Heights in state one day to talk formally about the betrothal. The ladies would discuss dates and wedding clothes and the exact requirements for the new carriage, while Bertram and the other men would talk about settlements.
But first the two families met in the drawing room to enjoy a fortifying glass of Madeira before the serious business of the day.
“Have you two thought at all about where you will live?” Mr Franklyn said.
“My dear Mr Franklyn,” Lady Esther said smoothly, “naturally they will live with us. We have so much space to spare. They will have the Royal Apartments in the North Wing… or the Blue Suite, if they prefer the view on that side.”
“No, indeed,” Bertram’s mother said. “Situated in a dip as you are there… most unhealthy. They will do far better with us here. The Dower House will—”
“Dower House? I was not aware that you have a Dower House, Mrs Atherton,” Lady Esther said.
“Oh, yes. It was built… oh, seven or was it eight years ago now? Before you came here, Lady Esther, and it has never been occupied, and quite secluded beyond the kitchen garden, so you would not know of its existence. But there it sits, awaiting me whenever George should depart this world, or perfectly suited to a young couple just stepping out in life together.”
“But does it have a proper nursery? Sensible attics? I cannot but think, my dear Mrs Atherton, that Beatrice would be much more comfortable beginning her married life in her own home, where she is at ease, and her own parents may take care of her.”
“It is for her husband to take care of her once she is married,” Mr Franklyn said firmly.
“But you will not want your only daughter to go away and leave you, would you?”
“It is in the nature of daughters to leave their fathers,” he said mildly. “I have long expected it. You were perfectly happy for Bea to live elsewhere when it was Walter in the case. But why do we not go and have a look at this Dower House, and then Bea can tell us whether she would like to live there or not?”
It took some time to locate the keys, for it was years since anyone but the servants had been in, and that very infrequently. Eventually, they were found and the whole party donned wraps and coats and scarves against the dampness Mrs Atherton feared was in the air, and ambled across to the Dower House.
Bertram well remembered the house being built. There had been an ancient cottage on the spot before, but it had been torn down to make way for the elegant new construction. He had still been at Eton then, and already had one foot in the Roman world, but he had not yet lost the fascination with the practical elements of his own. So it was that the long vacation that year had been enlivened by watching the walls slowly rising, then the roof going on and finally a succession of carpenters, plasterers, painters and the like working on the inside. He could still recall the excitement when a carved marble fireplace was fitted or the swirls of a chandelier hung, and then there was the never-to-be-forgotten day when the kitchen range was manoeuvred down to the basement.
He had not been to the Dower House for years, however. The hedge around it had grown high enough to hide it from the world, and he had almost forgotten its existence. Now he looked at it as a possible future home, and saw it in a different way. It was still sparklingly new, the walls and windows untouched by the grime of soot, the stonework unweathered. The roof tiles were still uniform, and every chimney pot stood proudly upright,just as the builder had left it. But the house was smaller than he remembered.
Inside, the rooms were empty, with not a stick of furniture or a rug to be seen anywhere, only bare floorboards in stark contrast to the opulent decoration of the walls and ceilings.
Bea ran ahead, throwing open shutters, while Bertram followed Lady Esther from room to room as she muttered, “No proper hall… tiny parlour… small study… inadequate drawing room… hmm, dining room not bad, but no service stairs.”
Bertram’s mother was in front of her, but she turned round to say, “This house was designed for only one person, Lady Esther.”
Upstairs were the same four rooms in the same proportions, and yet another set above that.
“So many bedrooms, in a house designed for just one person,” Lady Esther remarked. “You must have anticipated having a great many friends to visit, Mrs Atherton.”
“I am very sociable, it is true,” she said. “I have many friends. However, my main concern was to have enough room for all the children still in need of a mother’s care, should I be widowed early. It is fortunate that I made such provision, for now there can be no question of inadequate nursery space.”
