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“What about the other Sagborough family? What was their name — Malpas, was it?”
“Yes, the mayor and his family, but that just shows how remiss I have been. Fanny Craston has taken them under her wing, and look how well Miss Malpas dresses because of it. Fanny has such exquisite taste.”
“Fanny Craston? Was that the lady you talked to for an age at Almack’s the other night? The one with the silver-blue turban?”
Connie sighed. “Oh yes! Only Fanny could wear just such a turban and look so ravishing in it. And did you notice Ferdy’s new style of coat? So elegant, both of them. Did I tell you they are leaving Sagborough? Ferdy’s father is moving to Abbeymount now that the old gentleman is fading, so Ferdy and Fanny will move to Lennister Hall. Genista will miss them. Genista! Is there a letter from her? I asked her what she knew about the Fletchers.”
“I believe there was something.” Eloise flicked through the box for personal letters. “Here it is, at least two sheets, so she has written very fully.”
“Read it out loud, dear. You will want to hear it, too.”
Eloise doubted it. She had little interest in the Fletchers — the beautiful elder daughter, perhaps, but certainly not the handsome and infuriatingly persistent son. Definitely not him. But obediently she unfolded the two sheets from Lady Gil.
‘To the Most Honourable the Marchioness of Carrbridge, Marford House, London. My dear Connie, We are all well here, and enjoying a spell of fine weather, happily. We took the boys onto the moors yesterday, which they greatly enjoyed. So much energy! I am glad to hear that little Mary has made a full recovery, and that Dev and William did not take the fever also. You sound very lively down in London! Gil is very jealous, and we may visit you once the repairs to Drummoor are in a state to be left. To your question, I confess I do not know the Fletchers socially any more than you do, for they move in a different circle altogether. I have seen them, however, for Sagborough is a small town, and I have made occasional purchases in the Fletcher warehouses. Gil knows something of the men, and likes them. He says they are not encroaching, unlike others of the merchant class, and the sons are perfectly respectable and could pass for gentlemen anywhere. His words, not mine! They all seem like very pleasant people, courteous and affable, and not bumptious, as some are, or overly-deferential.
‘Being uncertain quite what you wish to know, I shall tell you all that is said of the family. Mr Fletcher is reputed to be one of the wealthiest men in Sagborough and possibly in the whole of Yorkshire. Gil says that four hundred thousand is widely spoken of as the extent of his fortune. There are two sons and five daughters. The eldest son is reputed to have an eye for the ladies, but I have heard no actual harm of him, only rumours, and you know what I think of such unpleasant gossip. A young man may be careless in his youth and still turn out to be a good husband and father. The younger son is an intellectual at Cambridge. The eldest daughter is married to a Sagborough man, the son of a brewer. The second daughter is the beauty you have encountered, much talked of here. She is known as the Star of the North. Half the men of Yorkshire are in love with her, it is said, and she has had several offers to my certain knowledge. Why she is as yet unmarried is a mystery that puzzles many, but I see no reason why a daughter must marry if she dislikes the idea. The Fletchers are thought to be aiming high for her by taking her to London, but I hope they will not press her to marry against her inclination.
‘The middle daughter is recently betrothed to a clergyman in Hertfordshire. The fourth daughter is the other you have met. She is very pretty too, although not as striking as her sister. I have heard nothing about her except that she plays, sings and dances divinely, but you will be better placed to determine that than I am. The youngest sister is still in the schoolroom. That is the total of my knowledge of the family, but if you have specific questions, I shall willingly enquire among my acquaintances. Genista.’
“Hmpf,” Connie said. “Genista is a dear, sweet girl, but her father is very devout and has filled her head with nonsense. Not relaying the gossip, indeed! Why does she think I wrote to her, if not to hear the gossip? And of course the beauty must marry! What else is she to do with her life but bestow all that perfection of form on the next generation?”
Eloise smiled. “With her father’s fortune, almost anything she wishes. Money opens many doors.”
“But marriage opens many more,” Connie said, sounding serious. “A spinster is always constrained by convention, or derided as an eccentric if she dares to defy it. A wife has a great deal of freedom, Eloise.”
“Only if she is so fortunate as to marry a man of wealth who is as doting as your marquess, and the title serves you well, too. A marchioness may do a great deal that a mere Mrs may not.”
“True. Like taking up an unknown beauty from the north. Shall I do it, do you think? The family sounds tolerably respectable, or at least, no worse than any other family, and she is so lovely, it would be the greatest pleasure to smarten her up a little… cut some of that hair and dress her with a little more elegance. If I invite her to one of my balls, then she will be invited everywhere, perhaps Almack’s even, which would besucha triumph. She will be made.”
“I think…” Eloise said slowly, then stopped, frowning.
“Yes? Do speak your mind, Eloise. It is why you are here, after all, to curb my wilder excesses, for Francis will not do it. My sisters twit me sometimes and tell me to be less busy, but I do so enjoy it. You are going to tell me to leave her alone, I daresay. Because the family is in trade? But that will only make her success more amusing.”
“Not that, no. If it were the younger sister, perhaps, for she seems like a lively girl who would bask in the attention, but the elder girl is a shy little thing. She might find such attention oppressive. Better by far to leave the family to find their own level in society, I should say.”
“Ah. That is a good point, although she seemed perfectly at home dancing at the Iversons’. Still, I believe you are right, and she has been noticed already, so perhaps she will become a success without me. But what about your Mr Fletcher? The report of him is good, do you not think?”
“Only if you think a rake is good news, and he is notmyMr Fletcher, Connie.”
“Well, rakes can reform, as Genista has reason to know very well. Gil was so wild in his youth, you know, and Francis quite despaired of him ever settling down, but Genista tamed him, and your Mr Fletcher sounds nothing like as wayward as Gil was. No actual harm, Genista says, whereas Gil had a penchant for bedding other men’s wives, and getting caught in the act, and called out for it. There is no comparison.”
“If you are going to match-make, Connie, I do wish you would choose elsewhere. I am not the least bit interested in Mr William Fletcher. Any other man but not him.”
“Why not?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Give me a single reason why you should not encourage him, and even marry him if it comes to that point. One reason, Eloise, that is all I ask. Because it seems to me that he is everything that is desirable in a man. He is handsome, he has a fine figure, he dresses well, his manners are excellent and, as if all that were not enough, he is heir to a very pretty fortune and an estate in Hertfordshire. All of which you know just as well as I do, and I cannot believe that you would be deterred by his closeness to trade, for no one to meet him would ever guess it. So what is it that deters you?”
No glib answer rose to Eloise’s lips. Indeed, it was a question which had exercised her a great deal in the last few hours. Every proper feeling revolted against feeling admiration for such a man as William Fletcher, who had not a serious bone in his body, but last night he had surprised her. He had shown some interest in her beyond the everyday exchanges of dancing partners, and an unexpected depth of consideration.‘How then should I treat you, for I would not for the world offend you?’he had said, and when she had given him her answer he had appeared to take it to heart, and had offered to dance with all the wallflowers to prove his good intentions.
He had done it, too, although he had been covertly watching her, no doubt to see if his actions softened her towards him. Yet that was an easy test, for he might have wished to dance every set no matter what had been said, and merely turned that fact to advantage. So how should she judge him? It was a puzzle.
“I cannot tell you quite why I am resistant to his charms, except that my father was of the same type and that, perhaps, has armoured me against others of his kind. But I cannot deny that I am very much aware of his good qualities, not least the fortune that will one day be his. I will never marrysolelyfor money, but it is a consideration, without doubt. It would be such a relief to be free of the threat of poverty, to be able to offer charity to my relations instead of always being the recipient. I take notice also of your contention that a married woman has greater freedom than a spinster — that is a persuasive argument indeed, for I feel the constraints of society keenly. So I give you my word that I will consider Mr Fletcher as dispassionately as I can, and try not to let my prejudices keep me from marrying a man who embodies every outward virtue. But I make no promises.”
“Spoken like the sensible woman you are,” Connie said, with a satisfied smile.
10: The Proper Sphere
