Regency High Society Vol 3: Beloved Virago / Lord Trenchard's Choice / The Unruly Chaperon / Colonel Ancroft's Love

Chapter Three

I’ve been giving some thought to what you disclosed on the evening of my engagement party.’

The surprising admission succeeded in capturing Katherine’s attention, and she transferred her gaze from the spot beyond the parlour window, where the morning’s continuous rain had succeeded in creating a huge puddle on the terrace, to her cousin, who had been industriously plying her needle for the past half-hour. ‘About what?’ she prompted.

‘About Major Ross.’

The immediate response did not precisely please Katherine. Although his name had never once been mentioned within her hearing since the night of the party, she had been irritated by the number of times he had managed to encroach into her thoughts.

‘Before he returned to London Richard happened to mention,’ Caroline continued, ‘that Wellington himself thought very highly of the Major, and used him on many important missions.’

‘His bravery is not in question,’ Katherine pointed out, striving not to sound waspish. ‘I merely maintain that he is a heartless wretch who cares naught for the feelings of others.’

‘I’m not so certain you’re right about that,’ Caroline argued. Highly complaisant and sweet-natured though she was, she wasn’t afraid to voice an opinion if she held strong views on a subject. ‘I found myself in his company on more than one occasion during the evening of the party. I have to own, I rather liked him, even though I found his conversation a little—how shall I put it?—forthright. But Richard assured me that seasoned campaigners do tend to be plain-spoken and a little abrupt. And the Major was kind enough to fetch me a cup of fruit punch.’

‘Oh, well, that just goes to prove I misjudged him entirely, doesn’t it?’ Katherine rolled her eyes ceiling-wards. ‘Any gentleman who would fetch a lady refreshments must surely be a paragon of all the virtues!’

‘Furthermore,’ Caroline continued, smiling faintly at this blatant sarcasm, ‘Richard did furnish me with one tale about the Major that he’d heard from a fellow officer. Seemingly, appalling atrocities took place after our troops were successful in storming Badajoz. Major Ross, by all accounts, offered his protection to the wife of some French officer. I do not know all the details, you understand, because Richard didn’t consider it a suitable topic to discuss in my company. Nevertheless, what he did disclose was sufficient to convince me that any gentleman who would put his life at risk to protect a lady’s virtue must be a very honourable man. Which makes me wonder whether what you were told about him years ago was completely true.’

‘We do not know for certain that the story of his heroism at Badajoz is true either,’ Katherine pointed out. ‘You know how these tales are much embellished in the retelling.’

‘Mama was talking with him a good deal at the party. We could always ask her if she knows anything about his exploits,’ Caroline suggested, just as the door opened, and Mrs Wentworth herself entered the parlour.

Although Katherine had no wish to engage in a discussion about someone whom for years she had been happy to stigmatise as a heartless lecher, her cousin, evidently, was not of a similar mind, for Caroline hardly waited for her mother to settle herself comfortably in a chair, before she asked outright whether she was well acquainted with the gallant Major.

‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, dear,’ Mrs Wentworth responded, reaching for her embroidery. ‘When I left Dorsetshire to marry your father, Daniel was merely a boy, no more than six or seven, though I do remember his father very well. Edwin Ross was such a charming gentleman, and extremely astute. And Daniel, I feel, has grown into his image in both looks and character.’

Somehow managing to suppress a snort, Katherine made a supreme effort to concentrate on the book lying open on her lap, and ignore the ensuing conversation between mother and daughter. Unfortunately she was only moderately successful, and one interesting disclosure had her and her equally astonished cousin exchanging startled glances.

‘I didn’t realise that Major Ross was Grandpapa’s godson,’ she freely admitted.

‘Oh, yes, dear,’ her aunt confirmed. ‘Your grandfather and Edwin Ross had been friends since boyhood, and Daniel was very fond of dear Papa. Papa frequently mentioned in the letters he wrote how much he missed his godson’s visits when Daniel went out to India.’

This appeared to capture Caroline’s attention in a big way, for she immediately set aside her sewing. ‘Major Ross has been to India? Oh, what exciting lives gentlemen lead!’

‘I do not know whether Daniel himself found the experience so very rewarding,’ her mother countered, ‘in view of what took place during his absence.’

Although Katherine doggedly refused to betray further interest, she was not unduly sorry when her cousin demanded to know what precisely had happened during Daniel’s travels abroad.

‘His father passed away just a year after Daniel had set sail for India. Although his uncle, Sir Joshua Ross, did write promptly, informing him of the tragic news, it quite naturally took some time before the letter reached him. And if that was not bad enough, when the poor boy did eventually return, it was to discover that his childhood sweetheart, Julia Melrose, had married Sir Joshua’s son Simon just a few months before.’

‘Oh, poor Major Ross!’ Caroline exclaimed, and Katherine, much to her surprise, found herself experiencing a twinge of sympathy too, and could not resist asking whether there had ever been anything official between them.

Lavinia Wentworth shook her head. ‘I do not believe Julia’s parents were averse to a match. Daniel, after all, was the son of a wealthy landowner, and therefore quite eligible. I believe the Melroses considered that it wouldn’t hurt to wait a year or two before giving their consent to a marriage. Daniel himself had only just turned twenty when he set sail for India. I suppose he considered it would occupy his time until he could officially ask for Julia’s hand.’

Caroline cast a puzzled glance across at her mother. ‘But if Julia Melrose was truly in love with Daniel, why on earth did she agree to marry Simon Ross?’

‘That I couldn’t say, my dear. I do know that Julia, Simon and Daniel had known one another all their lives and had frequently played together as children, but from what I have gleaned over the years from the many friends I still have living in the area, Julia always showed a preference for Daniel’s company. Most people, including your grandfather, expected them to tie the knot one day.’ She shrugged. ‘One can only imagine pressure was brought to bear on Miss Melrose to marry Simon. After all, he was the one who had been destined to hold the title, not Daniel.’

Mrs Wentworth sighed and shook her head. ‘Whether the marriage was happy or not, I couldn’t say, but it certainly proved fruitful. Julia gave birth to a son some five or six years ago, if I remember correctly. One cannot help but feel saddened that the union was brought to an abrupt end. Simon Ross, sadly, was killed whilst hunting in the Shires.’

‘Which leaves the field now open for the Major, as it were,’ Katherine remarked, with just a touch of cynicism that made her aunt smile.

‘It is certainly a possibility that their love will rekindle,’ her aunt acknowledged. ‘He has, so I understand, never betrayed the least interest in marrying anyone else, even though his name has been linked with several—er—females over the years.’

Out of the corner of her eye Katherine saw her cousin glance in her direction, as though expecting her, now that the opportunity had arisen, to pass some remark, and she swiftly decided not to disappoint her. ‘I clearly remember that, when I resided in Dorsetshire for those few short months, Captain Ross, as he was then, betrayed an interest in a close neighbour of Grandpapa’s—Helen Rushton.’

‘Helen Rushton?’ her aunt echoed, frowning slightly. Then her brow cleared. ‘Ah, yes, I remember—Hermi-one Rushton’s girl!’ The frown returned. ‘Are you positive he was interested in her, Katherine? She must have been a mere child at the time.’

‘She was seventeen.’

Mrs Wentworth’s expressive brows rose this time. ‘Yes, I suppose she must have been. So very sad, her dying so young. I remember Mrs Rushton very well—a sweet woman, but something of a dreamer and not very bright. I recall your grandfather mentioning once that Helen had become very like her mother.’

Until that moment Katherine had never considered that Helen had been very immature for her years. Looking back now, however, she was silently forced to own that her friend had been something of a dreamer and might well have imagined that Daniel Ross had been betraying an interest in her.

Swiftly thrusting this traitorous thought aside, she said, ‘I also recall, Aunt, that he was displaying marked attention towards a young widow in the locale.’

‘Very likely, my dear. He could only have been twenty-three or-four at the time. I doubt his intentions were serious. Gentlemen rarely are at that age. And you must remember he had suffered a grievous blow over Julia Melrose. When I spoke to him at the party I gained the distinct impression that he is more than ready to settle down now, however. He is quite wealthy, so should have no difficulty in finding himself a wife.’

Caroline’s soft brown eyes glowed with a distinctly hopeful look. ‘Although it is unlikely that Major Ross will ever inherit the title, it is not impossible that he and his childhood sweetheart might one day find happiness together.’

Whether or not it was because she had never fallen in love herself, or that she simply didn’t possess her cousin’s romantic streak, Katherine was not sure, but her interest had already swiftly begun to wane. The ex-Major’s present romantic inclinations were of absolutely no interest to her. Consequently she experienced no compunction whatsoever in changing the subject by voicing something which was of far more concern to her, if a trifle mundane.

‘I sincerely hope the weather improves by tomorrow. I do not relish the prospect of returning all the way to Bath in the pouring rain.’

‘I wish you were not going back so soon, Katherine. Cannot Mama and I persuade you to remain a little longer?’

Katherine, smiling fondly at her cousin, shook her head. ‘I should dearly love to stay another week or two, Caro, but my conscience will not permit it. I have already left poor Clarissa Mountjoy to her own devices for two weeks.’

‘I think it was highly unfair of Aunt Augusta to foist that distinctly foolish female on to you, Katherine,’ Lavinia Wentworth announced, with a rare show of annoyance. ‘She is engaged as a companion and resides in your home for the sole purpose of ensuring that you, an unmarried female, are suitably chaperoned at all times. Yet I swear it is you who takes care of her. It is a fine duenna indeed who cannot bring herself to travel more than a mile or two because she fears becoming queasy!’

A further fond smile touched Katherine’s lips as she looked across at her aunt. ‘Believe me, Aunt Lavinia, I am not sorry that Mountjoy is afflicted with travel sickness whenever she steps inside a carriage.’ She couldn’t prevent a sigh escaping. ‘I am forced to admit too that I do find her company excessively tedious, for she is undeniably an extremely foolish woman, but she does try so very hard to please. And I would never go back on the promise I made to Aunt Augusta and turn Mountjoy off. The poor woman put up with Great-aunt Augusta’s megrims and ill humours for twenty years. I believe she has earned a little peace and contentment in a house where not too much is expected of her, and she can more or less come and go as she pleases.’

A further sigh escaped Katherine as she finally abandoned her book and set it to one side. ‘I must admit, though, as chaperons go, she could never be described as diligent. I cannot say that I would feel in the least sorry if she did decide to leave, and I could employ someone of my own choosing.’

‘I doubt there is much chance of that,’ her aunt warned. ‘I fear, my dear, that you have made the woman’s life far too agreeable since Aunt Augusta’s death for her to wish to take up another post.’

‘You are possibly quite right,’ Katherine agreed. ‘But there is just a glimmer of hope on the horizon. Mountjoy received a letter from her widowed sister a month ago, inviting her to make her home with her. Needless to say I would be delighted if she does decide to leave, but I am resolved that it must be her decision.’

‘You would have no need of a chaperon if you chose to make your home here with us,’ her aunt reminded her.

Katherine had wondered how long it would be before the subject was once again raised. Her aunt had asked her on several occasions to make her home in Hampshire, and Katherine had always neatly avoided giving a firm answer. It was not that she felt she would be unhappy living with her aunt and uncle, for she was fond of them both, and adored both her cousins. Nor was she afraid that the little independence she had acquired would be drastically curtailed, for her aunt was such an easygoing soul who would willingly allow her to do more or less as she pleased. No, stupid though it might be, she was afraid to take up permanent residence under this roof; afraid that, as had happened so often in the past, she would bring ill fortune to the household if she were ever to remove here.

‘That is certainly true, Aunt,’ she agreed, her warm smile concealing quite beautifully those deep-rooted fears that had continued to torment her in recent years. ‘But I would never dream of inflicting Mountjoy on you. And even if I should be lucky enough to persuade her to accept her sister’s kind offer, there is still Bridie to consider. There is not the remotest possibility that I shall ever be able to persuade that fiendish woman to take up another post. I know I shall be cursed with her company for life! She is the most self-opinionated, domineering creature imaginable! If once she takes up residence here, you’d swiftly find her ruling the roost in the servants’ hall, and your own staff leaving your employ.’

Mrs Wentworth frankly laughed. ‘Oh, I know Bridie can be a little outspoken on occasions, and is certainly not what one might describe as a conventional domestic, but I for one, as I’ve mentioned before, have always felt very relieved that she has been there to take care of you, Katherine.’

She looked up as the door opened to see her butler enter the room, carrying a small silver tray. ‘Yes, what is it, Meldrew?’