Page 49 of A Foolish Endeavor

Mrs. Landry gave a nervous titter. “Indeed, we do, my dear, how very fortunate. I shall pour you some tea, Mr. Milbourn. You prefer it with milk, I believe?” She deftly served up the cup and handed it to him. “Do sit there next to Mr. Kendall.”

For a time, everyone drank their tea, the sound of teacups being set back in their saucers between sips the only sound in the room. Finally, Gilbert said, “It is a fine day. Would anyone care to go for a walk?”

Once more, the two ladies exchanged a glance before looking at Carter. He cleared his throat and said, “Well, in truth, Gilbert, Miss Landry and I already had an engagement to go for a ride in my curricle. And, as you well know, there is only room for two—comfortably, that is.”

Gilbert chuckled and said in a teasing voice to Mrs. Landry. “You will permit this reprobate to drive alone with your daughter, ma’am? It might be best if I went along as chaperone. You know how rumors can spread.”

Another nervous titter. “Oh, indeed, but I can have no fear of your friend, Mr. Kendall. You see—”

“Miss Landry has given me the greatest of honors and consented to be my wife, Gilbert,” Carter said. He rose and went to sit beside Mary, taking her hand and smiling with clear admiration, while she gazed at him with pure pleasure.

Gilbert felt his mouth fall open. “You… you are engaged?” he asked in a strangled voice. At their happy nods, he forced a smile. “Well. Such… happy news. Yes, indeed, very happy news. And so unexpected, for I distinctly recall you saying, Carter, that you had no intentions of seeking a match this Season.” When Carter made no reply, Gilbert continued, “Well. My congratulations to you both.” He stood. “You must be eager to go on your ride, so I will detain you no longer. Thank you for the tea and conversation, Mrs. Landry, Miss Landry. I shall see you again soon, I have no doubt.” He gave a curt bow and swiftly exited the room.

He was halfway across the entry hall when he heard steps behind him and Carter caught up to him.

“Gilbert, I am sorry this came as such a surprise.”

Gilbert wheeled around. “Surprise?” he asked in a low voice. “It is a complete and utter shock, Carter. You stated more than once that you had no intention of making an offer to any lady. And all the while, you were scheming to ingratiate yourself with the Landrys that you might inherit a fine estate one day. I thought your dances with Miss Landry only done out of pity for her, but, clearly, you had a plan all along. My heartiest congratulations at your success.” He turned to go, but a firm hand on his arm spun him around. Carter was glaring at him.

“How dare you! It is true I had no intention of finding love, unlike you, who were hell-bent on landing an heiress to escape becoming a curate. While you were trying to woo Miss Wells for her fifteen thousand pounds, I did ask Miss Landry for a dance every ball and assembly, and it was out of courtesy, at first.” His face softened. “But, Gilbert, her riches are nothing to me, for I have more than enough, thanks to my father’s success. Can you not see why I adore her? Mary is so delightful—her charm and wit are unsurpassed by even the greatest beauty of the Season. I found myself falling in love, much to my surprise. When I dared broach my feelings to her, I was thrilled to learn she felt the same. As the Season was coming to an end and she would soon be going to Cheshire, I knew I must ask for her hand soon, and so I did.”

“And you did not tell me?”

Carter shook his head, sadly. “Mary and I had intended to share the news with you at last night’s ball, but when Kirkpatrick and Miss Wells announced their engagement, we both knew you had suffered quite a shock. We thought it best to keep the news of our match to ourselves until you had regained your equanimity somewhat.” He studied his friend. “I certainly did not expect to find you calling on her this morning. What is behind that, eh? Were you now thinking of trying to claim her and her estate for yourself?”

Gilbert lowered his head. “I am a fool above all fools, Carter. I assumed there would be no offer for her, although she is, as you say, witty and charming. I did think perhaps if I got to know her better, my feelings might grow and she might be a fine choice for me.” He sighed and lifted a rueful face to his friend. “But you recognized her fine qualities sooner than I and, truly, Carter, I could not be happier for you both. I wish you all the best.” He saw a face full of doubt on his friend’s face, which slowly changed into one of kindness.

“Thank you, Gilbert. I believe we shall be very happy. Tell me, what will you do now?”

Gilbert could only shrug and mutter, “I have no idea.” Then, he patted his friend’s shoulder, turned, and exited the house.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Gilbert took his time walking back to the Gillingham home. It was a long slog, but he had nothing better to do, he reasoned, and he wanted time to think. He reflected on his time in London, and the more he thought on it, the less satisfied he felt. Particularly when it came to his own behavior.

I hoped my time at the Season would bring me love as well as an escape from my future as a curate. I thought myself entirely in love with Miss Wells and believed she felt the same. Instead, I was used by her and my entire suit was a waste of time. I fear I was blinded by her beauty and money and unable to see how things stood.

Then I missed my chance with another heiress and, instead, Carter can now look forward to becoming a gentleman one day when Miss Landry inherits. Money and property—I am happy for him, of course, but why could it not have been me? I might have been very satisfied with Miss Landry, too. But my friend was correct. I had only desperate intentions behind my thoughts of courting Miss Landry.

When did I become such a selfish creature? My behavior has been reprehensible. I must do better. I shall do better. In the meantime, I must now return home and tell my family the terrible truth—that I cannot even apply to the bishop for my certification because I failed to complete my exams. Father will be most displeased. I must present Father with some plan for my future, and I am utterly without any ideas.

As Gilbert entered his sister’s home, he saw a flurry of activity taking place with footmen carting boxes and trunks, and a peek into the reception room showed maids covering furniture with sheets. He stood, gaping at the sight, when Dorothea called to him as she descended the staircase.

“At last, Gilbert—where have you been? I began to think I should never see you again.”

“I went for a walk. What is going on, Dorothea?” Gilbert asked.

“I have decided it is time to leave London,” she said briskly. “Your suit of Miss Wells did not work out as planned, and there is little left of the Season. I very much doubt you will make an offer to any other lady, and, so, it is time to go.”

“Oh, you are heading back to Haverstone? Well, I would enjoy extending my visit with you by accompanying you there. I long to see Reggie and, of course, my niece, Lucy.”

“That would be lovely, but we are not heading to Haverstone, yet.” Dorothea smiled at him and, after he continued to stand with a puzzled countenance, she threw her hands up, adding, “Have you forgotten our dear sister, Charlotte, recently gave birth? I wish to see her and our new nephew, in addition to the rest of our family, before I return home. I sent an express first thing this morning to Clayton House to expect us.”

“Oh.”

Dorothea gave a merry laugh. “Gracious, one would think I was sending you to jail, Gilbert. You might at least be grateful that you will ride to Clayton House in the Gillingham carriage and not suffer the Post. Now, go and make ready, for we shall depart first thing tomorrow.”

Gilbert only nodded and slowly went upstairs to his room. He sat a long time, staring out the window, before finally going to the desk, taking out a sheet of paper and, finding a decent quill, wrote a short goodbye letter to Carter, thanking him for his hospitality and wishing him great happiness with his intended. Finished, he dusted the paper, sealed it, and wrote the direction upon it.