Trouble With The Earl Read online

  “I have only ever heard kind things said about the poor Earl,” the Lady Radcliffe cried. “Oh fate is cruel!”

  “Oh dear, what truly sad news,” Charlotte said. She sipped her tea quietly. She, too, thought that the death of the Earl’s wife might be a sign from above. Buckland House was known to rival Bennington Park for beauty.

  How odd, she thought to herself, that the Earl of Buckland should be widowed on the very day that her search for a nearby suitor began. What were the odds? Then a more troubling thought crossed her mind. The widowed Earl would not be without a wife for long, of that she was sure.

  After a suitable time had passed upon hearing the tragic news but before she took her leave from the drawing room, Charlotte ventured to speak.

  “It is truly quite wrenching to hear about the passing of the Earl’s wife. I imagine his heartbreak must be severe. He will probably never marry again,” she said, letting her voice trail off before setting her teacup back in its saucer wearily and pausing for dramatic effect.

  “But,” she continued optimistically, “at the same time, haven’t we all been surprised by the sudden taking of a wife by many a widower? With that in mind, I am wondering, and correct me if it is too soon to think, or much less give voice to the idea, but mightn’t we be wise to preemptively add the widowed Earl to my list of suitable suitors?”

  Lady Radcliffe stopped wiping her tears long enough to thoughtfully consider her daughter’s statement.

  “I see your point, Charlotte. What good is the list if we refuse to add the name of a legitimately eligible man when said eligibility is brought to one’s attention, purely because he happens to be in mourning? If we were to omit him, then I would indeed question our commitment to the accuracy of the list.”

  The Lord Radcliffe placed his hand over his mouth and wrinkled his brow as he pondered the delicacy of the situation.

  “If we are speaking to the issue of accuracy alone, then yes, I believe we should absolutely add the Earl’s name to the list. Otherwise, we do not speak the truth when we say the list is an accurate representation of eligible suitors. The list must be reliable,” he stressed.

  “And just to be clear, if he had of this day been an unmarried man, then the Earl would have been at the top of Charlotte’s list of suitable suitors, to be sure. To deprive him of his deserved place for no reason other than the fact that he is so recently eligible flies in the spirit of the thing,” he concluded.

  The Lady Radcliffe felt that such prejudice was beneath their largesse. “We should not hold the recentness of his widowhood against him.” Fate had surely smiled upon her daughter that day. “Pray Charlotte, run and add him to the list right now, before we forget!”

  Charlotte, ever the obedient daughter, did as her mother instructed.

  Chapter Two

  The Radcliffe family might well have spent the whole of the next day debating the relative merits of the men on Charlotte’s list had their attention not been amiably distracted by the unexpected arrival of their oldest son Hugh, the young Lord Radcliffe. Accompanying him on his return home was his longtime tutor—now retired—and good friend Guy Lancaster.

  “What a surprise this is! How wonderful to see you, Hugh, and looking so well,” the Lord Radcliffe said. Hugh embraced his father warmly, for theirs was a close and affectionate relationship.

  “To what may I owe the joy of your unexpected return? I thought you would be gone for another fortnight!” exclaimed his mother, clinging tightly to her firstborn, wandering son.

  “The hunting party at Childeston Hall was unceremoniously cancelled! Seems as if Banks overdrew on his accounts again and the jig was up. He was summoned to Leeds and must remain under the watchful eye of his grandfather until he proves an ability to live with economy. Until then, his grandfather is putting him to work cataloging his exotic beetle collection as punishment,” Hugh explained cheerily.

  “And because we were lodging but fifteen miles from here when we got word, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to head here instead. To be honest, Banks was getting on my nerves with his constant borrowing from my purse and Guy’s as well. It was a relief to get out of the obligation of the hunt without having to make up an alibi. I say I had no idea that it has been seven years since Guy quit this place. I said no, that cannot be the case but Guy insists that he left here at 21 and is now 28, so his math is correct. Who am I to doubt my own tutor’s calculations?”

  The Lord and Lady Radcliffe turned to warmly welcome their children’s’ former tutor.

  “Welcome Mr. Lancaster! Why this is the most pleasant surprise of all!” the Lord Radcliffe cried. Guy had capably instructed Hugh, Charles and for a brief period, Charlotte too when she was between governesses.

  Guy felt extraordinary warmth toward his former employer. His profession had brought him inside many of the finest homes in England, allowing him to live in accommodations far beyond what his own humble means could afford. That said, he had been hard pressed to find a situation that rivaled his tenure in Bennington Park in terms of geniality and family harmony. He had spent three happy years instructing the growing Radcliffe boys in Latin and Greek, literature and history before they continued their education at Eton. Indeed, he had often harbored a fantasy that one day the Lord Radcliffe would throw away convention and adopt him as one of his own.

  It had been pure happenstance—a chance meeting in a London club one year ago—that had thrown Guy and Hugh together and brought about the renewal of their acquaintance. Since leaving the Radcliffe’s employ, Guy’s fortunes had radically changed; a substantial inheritance of property had propelled him into the upper ranks. Familiarity and fond memories forged a tight bond between the tutor and his former student and Guy and Hugh had spent the last year bounding about between London and the countryside, making trouble and avoiding its consequences.

  Charlotte, who was painting in the garden when she heard the rattle of a carriage followed by intermittent shouting and loud exclamations of joy coming from the house, strode quickly inside, anxious to discover the cause of the commotion.

  “Aha, there she is!” Hugh called out as his younger sister entered the room. He embraced her fondly. “You remember Guy Lancaster, my old tutor?” he asked as he turned toward Guy.

  Guy Lancaster! That was a name she had not heard in years! Surely he could not be the man standing in front of her now, handsome as all deuces. Too good looking for his own good, Charlotte surmised, for the Guy she remembered already thought himself superior in intelligence, now he was probably quite vain too.

  “Of course I do,” Charlotte said sweetly, “although I was but 12 years old the last time I saw you.”

  “By my word, this is not the same little girl who used to taunt me by purposely forming her letters backwards!” Guy had not thought of Charlotte Radcliffe for seven years but watching her enter the room, he was momentarily stunned by her transformation into a fine young woman who, even without her vaunted wealth, would catch his eye at any assembly or village square.

  He suspected that to forget her again would be impossible.

  Neither Charlotte nor Guy let one facial muscle convey the delight each took in the other. Instead, both retained stoic expressions worthy of inclusion in the queen’s guard.

  He performed the requisite bow.

  “Your Ladyship it is a complete pleasure to see you all grown up. I promise that my days of throwing you out of the school room are over.”

  Charlotte laughed at the memory of Guy escorting her out of the schoolroom for disrupting her brothers’ lessons, slamming the door behind her and standing there, holding tight to the knob, until he was sure she had skipped merrily away. Charlotte always suspected that, despite the resolute firmness in his expression, Guy was laughing inside along with her.

  Now when her eyes met Guy’s, she felt the familiar pull of those old playful times, and her mind began to work on new ways in which she could continue to annoy him.

  Guy’s presence in th
e house again both delighted and saddened the Lady Radcliffe, simultaneously reminding her of the old days when her children were young and highlighting the absence of her middle son. Thinking of Charles settled so far from home made her want to cry.

  “Will you be here for the assembly on Friday Mr. Lancaster? There is a new tenant at Netherfield Hall and he is sure to be there,” the Lady Radcliffe inquired as the family sat down to luncheon. Two extra place settings had miraculously appeared in a display of efficiency by the capable Hastings.

  “Alas, no. My solicitor is anxious that I return to Ludlow Lodge and become better acquainted with the farm and its accounts. It appears that my cousins’ unexpected demise has left me with a sizeable amount of overdue taxes,” he said, with regret. “If I had not this new responsibility on my shoulders, I would of course take the liberty of accepting Hugh’s generous invitation to stay on. An assembly sounds splendid.”

  “How do you find Ludlow Lodge?” the Lord Radcliffe inquired.

  “I am discovering that the responsibilities of overseeing an active farm are more than I imagined.”

  “Makes you yearn to be a tutor again?” Hugh asked.

  “Some days, yes,” Guy replied, adding, “Of course one does not wish to appear ungrateful for one’s fortune. I had expected to happily live out my days as a tutor, and then the shipwreck changed everything.”

  The Radcliffe family exchanged sympathetic glances with Guy, who waved them off.

  “I had only met my cousins once, years ago, and as my work kept me busy, I had no regular contact with them. So you can imagine my surprise when word came that they had been lost at sea, and that their inheritance was now mine. I still have trouble adjusting to the fact that I have no more lessons to prepare.”

  “Surely you can still read Homer and your other dull texts to the cows?” Charlotte teased.

  Guy laughed out loud. Charlotte had not changed; she was as mischievous as he remembered. He welcomed the opportunity to engage with her.

  “Actually, I read Homer to my cows. They say it produces creamier milk.”

  Charlotte stopped with her soupspoon in mid air. Guy’s deadpan expression made it hard for her to tell if he was kidding. She correctly assumed he was.

  “I forgot about your odd sense of humor,” she said, directing her glance away from his and back to her soupspoon. Guy redirected his glance as well, albeit reluctantly.

  Hugh rolled his eyes at his sister. “Guy has promised to invite us all to Ludlow. I for one cannot wait to see the tutor turned master of the estate in action.” This news perked up the Lady Radcliffe.

  “Yes, it is certainly my intent to have the Lord and Lady Radcliffe, and their children, be my first guests. Honestly, I feel like I am rambling about there all by myself. It takes a bit of getting used to ordering staff about and such. I am used to it being the other way around.”

  “It’s too bad you can’t stay for the assembly, Mr. Lancaster, for there are some charming young women who would be more than happy to make your acquaintance. Lydia Bennet, for instance. She would be a perfect match, don’t you agree Hugh?” Charlotte said, purposely naming the silliest local girl she could think of.

  Hugh laughed outright at the suggestion, and poured himself another glass of elderberry wine. Guy stared down the table at Charlotte, assuming that the lady selected for him was meant to be an inside joke between brother and sister.

  “Please Charlotte, leave poor Mr. Lancaster alone. Do not feel it is your job to marry him off. He is perfectly content as is. So what news from home have I missed? Any scandals?”

  Lady Radcliffe shook her head no. “The marsh draining has gone exceedingly well and ahead of schedule but other than that only sad news. The Earl of Buckland’s wife passed yesterday from her abscess.”

  “Oh dear,” Hugh exclaimed. “Poor woman.”

  “I am sorry to hear that. God rest her soul,” Guy said, looking quickly across the table at Charlotte for any signs of distress. “Perhaps I arrived at an inopportune time?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “No. I was neither her friend, nor her confidante. In truth, I am not even sure who she was.”

  “My dear Charlotte, you met her last Christmas at the holiday ball and while you may not have been paying any attention to her, I assure you she did notice you. She was quite complimentary, I recall,” the Lady Radcliffe said, reaching for her handkerchief to dab her eyes and then stopping when she realized that no tears were forthcoming.

  “No there is no intrusion at all Guy. However, I must attend the burial tomorrow. My only distress is that it overlaps with your short stay and cuts down on the time available for hunting and riding together. I have a new mare which I’d like to show off,” said the Lord Radcliffe.

  “I’d certainly be interested in seeing that. However, if it is not untoward of me, may I ask to be allowed to accompany you while you pay your respects?” Guy requested.

  “No, it is not necessary as Hugh will accompany me. What I would like, however, is if you would be so kind as to sit with my ladies tomorrow and keep them company in our absence.”

  “Oh Mr. Lancaster, that would be such a comfort,” the Lady Radcliffe cried, dabbing her handkerchief at her dry eyes. If she couldn’t have her son Charles with her at times like this, then Guy made a worthy substitute.

  “Please don’t cry, Mamma,” Charlotte urged her.

  Her mother sighed deeply. “It is impossible. Why do children leave? Don’t leave me Charlotte!”

  “I promise not to go far, Mamma.” Her assurances seemed to soothe the Lady Radcliffe. Charlotte wished that she could attend the funeral luncheon at Buckland House to get a glimpse of the property and a good look at the grieving Earl. However, she cautioned herself, the sadness of such an occasion might cast a pall over her first impressions of him, noting that it was easier to evaluate the personality of a man at a summer picnic or in a gaily decorated ball room than at his wife’s funeral.

  The luncheon drew to a close and the young men split off on their own to roam the house and grounds. Charlotte happily withdrew to the drawing room with the latest fashion magazine and her Pomeranians, Sugar and Spice. Settling down on the chaise lounge, she folded her arms around both pups and nuzzled them under their chins with great affection.

  “Oh you are so adorable,” she squealed as she lavished them with kisses and stroked their soft bellies.

  Her thoughts drifted back to Guy.

  Guy Lancaster! Who would have thought! So unexpected!

  She wondered what he thought about being back at Bennington Park again. She had no idea about his inheritance. Of course it was only a farm that she had never heard of before but still, he was no longer her social inferior. Now that he was a man of property, she would probably have to start being nicer to him. Nevertheless, it was pleasant to have Hugh back home, for however long he intended to stay.

  The slamming open of the drawing room doors abruptly jolted Charlotte from her reverie. The pups let out sharp barks of surprise and leapt off her lap, darting for the door as Hugh barged in with Guy at his heels. Both of their faces wore a combined look of astonishment and hilarity.

  “What in the world is this?” Hugh cried, dangling Charlotte’s list of perfectly suitable suitors in front of her.

  She sprang up off of the chaise and grabbed for the list, horrified at its discovery and at the cavalier way her brother was handling the document.

  “It’s nothing. It doesn’t concern you,” she said, feeling her cheeks flush. Hugh held it outside her grasp then set off around the perimeter of the room, reading it to himself as he walked. Charlotte looked at Guy with annoyance.

  “I’m innocent!” Guy protested, holding up his hands. Charlotte turned away from him and ran after her brother.

  “Give it back.”

  “Suitable suitors for the Lady Charlotte Radcliffe,” Hugh read aloud in a dramatic voice.

  Charlotte stopped short, her humiliation complete. “Stop it!”

 
“I say, it seems as if you have forgotten nobody,” Hugh rattled on, reciting the names. “Darby the Lesser? His name is John, Charlotte!” Hugh laughed. “Reginald Humphrey? By jove, you have forgotten the Mooretons!”

  “No I didn’t. We left them off on purpose.”

  “What are all these numbers after their names?”

  “Driving distance from Bennington Park. I am not interested, and neither is Mamma, in my marrying anyone residing more than forty five minutes from home.”

  Guy and Hugh exchanged astonished glances.

  “But love doesn’t work like that!” Guy protested.

  “Who said anything about love? I am not interested in love, per se. I am interested in staying near home, in Hertfordshire. Romantic love is not essential to securing a happy future; every one knows that. It may be included as one of the elements of a successful life, among others, but at the same time, it can also lead one down the wrong path just as easily.”

  “So you intend to marry only men from Hertfordshire? My stars, what a silly idea!” Hugh said, purposely hoping to rile up his sister. Making his sister angry was sport to him.

  “Well, as I have no intention of marrying a stranger from parts unknown, then it stands to reason that my future husband must come from local stock. Why is this so hard for you to understand?” If only her brother Hugh had a fraction of her own good sense, he might be a more tolerable sibling, she thought to herself.

  Guy, who had been standing stock still in the middle of the drawing room watching the siblings argue, was suddenly possessed by a desire to have inherited all the land in Hertfordshire. He felt a sudden pang at the randomness of life that disqualified him from competing for the hand of the lovely, but pragmatic, Lady Charlotte.

  Then, with regret, he remembered that he was not supposed to be competing for the Lady Charlotte. He had recently been paying far too much attention to the daughter of his accounts man and he knew her expectations had been raised. Cecelia! He hadn’t thought of her once since arriving at Bennington Park. Luckily, he was a prudent man, not given to making premature proclamations of love. Looking over at the Lady Charlotte, who stood fuming mad in the afternoon sunlight, his mind whirled. Charlotte Radcliffe was making him seriously question what exactly he thought he had ever felt for Cecelia.