A Sense of Belonging Read online

  ‘You seem to have it all worked out, but how can you be so sure? About Mr Watson, I mean,’ Mary, the more rational of the two sisters, asked. ‘Don’t you think you should give yourself an opportunity to meet a wider circle of gentlemen before entering into any sort of commitment, if only to compare them to Mr Watson? It’s a wide world out there and we’ve barely seen any of it, so your choice has been limited. But once you have been presented—’

  ‘Oh that.’ She flapped a hand. ‘I’d prefer not to bother putting Luke to all that trouble and expense. So much fuss about nothing.’

  ‘Only because you are worried that Grandmamma will have to be your sponsor and you think she will embarrass you.’

  ‘No, not precisely that. You know I adore Grandmamma’s eccentricities.’

  ‘Even so, Luke is bound to announce his engagement to Lily Carlton during the course of the party, and she will not embarrass you.’

  Emma was not encouraged by the possibility. ‘I wish Luke did not have to marry if he would prefer not to,’ she said.

  Mary looked surprised. ‘You don’t care for Miss Carlton?’

  ‘I know nothing to her detriment, but I am not convinced that Luke actually loves her.’

  ‘Definitely not as passionately as Mr Watson will grow to love you,’ Mary said with a straight face.

  ‘Stop teasing! We are discussing Luke’s prospects, not my own. He has been obliged to assume so much responsibility since our parents died that—’

  ‘True, but he always knew those responsibilities would fall to his lot one day. That day just came sooner than we all expected.’ Mary blinked back tears. ‘Anyway, he knows one of his most important duties is to marry and produce an heir. I dare say Miss Carlton will give him a dozen brats with the minimum of fuss.’

  ‘I would much prefer for him to wait until he falls in love before marrying rather than rushing into it for our sakes.’

  Mary gave her sister’s shoulders a reassuring squeeze. ‘Luke will do what he thinks is right, and so must you. If you are absolutely sure that Mr Watson is the one, you would be advised to always look your best and ignore him as much as possible.’

  ‘Ignore him?’ Emma’s eyes widened and her mouth fell inelegantly open. ‘Are you as crazy as Grandmamma? How can I make an impression upon him if we don’t converse?’ Emma giggled. ‘Or walk on the terrace and steal a few moments alone.’ She sighed. ‘It will be sooo romantic.’

  Mary smiled and shook her head. ‘No man wants what is too readily available. He’s probably as accustomed to having women fawning over his as Luke is, and we’ve both heard him express his opinion of their behaviour, even though we were probably not supposed to. You would be better advised to appear mature, amusing and remote. That will get his attention, you just see if it does not.’

  ‘How can you possibly be so sure?’ Emma folded her arms on the table and rested the side of her face on them. ‘You are a year younger than me and know even less about these things than I do.’

  ‘Ah, but I am better read.’

  ‘True, but you shouldn’t believe everything you read in books.’

  ‘Well, you have four days before the rest of the ladies arrive to make an impression. Ample time for him to notice you, and he will have to converse with you, if only because you are playing the part of hostess. Wear the best of your new evening gowns before the party. It will afford him the opportunity to admire you in them when you have no competition.’ Mary scowled at the seating plan her sister had been wrestling with. ‘You have two ladies seated together here,’ she pointed out.

  ‘Oh bother, so I have.’

  ‘Don’t forget that Captain Carlton is now attending. You could put him between those two and that will settle things.’

  ‘Ah, my dears, how goes it?’

  Haughty bustled into the room. Emma couldn’t recall her ever not bustling, as though there were not enough hours in the day for her to complete all her duties. She meant well, but Luke would not have permitted Emma to act as his hostess—or indeed have the party at all—unless he was convinced that Haughty would shoulder responsibility for the lion’s share of the arrangements. She did not, of course, but Luke didn’t need to know that. Haughty was a sweet person, but Emma, still only eighteen, was far better versed in the ways of society and had sufficient confidence to fulfil the role that Luke had entrusted her with.

  ‘Quite well,’ Mary replied. ‘Has Grandmamma’s new companion arrived? What’s she like?’

  ‘Well, my dears, I was never more surprised. She is not much older than either of you.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ The girls shared a look as Mary spoke for them both. ‘One cannot help feeling sorry for her.’

  ‘She will not last for long,’ Emma said, pausing to digest this startling intelligence. ‘In fact, Grandmamma has probably scared the poor girl away already.’

  ‘That’s the strangest thing,’ Haughty said, frowning. ‘She was with her ladyship for an hour and Miss Sandwell tells me that she actually made your grandmother laugh at one point. And that horrible cat of your grandmother’s sat on her knee.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Mary said for a second time. ‘That will not go down well with Sandwell. She thinks she is the only person in this household who knows how to handle Grandmamma. But I must say I’m surprised about Zeus. He is the most aloof of felines and doesn’t care for anyone other than Grandmamma.’

  ‘I thought I heard it mentioned that Miss Latimer…is that her name, Haughty?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Right, well I thought I heard it mentioned that Miss Latimer is a vicar’s daughter,’ Emma said. ‘I wondered about that. I mean, anyone who knows anything at all about Grandmother’s character must realise that she would not take kindly to having an overtly religious companion foisted upon her. But still, if she can make our grandmother laugh, that is no mean achievement.’

  ‘Has our brother met this wonder-creature yet?’ Mary asked.

  ‘She was with him for some considerable time after meeting her ladyship. Everyone’s talking about her below stairs.’

  ‘Well I for one want to meet her,’ Emma said, abandoning her pen. ‘Come along, Mary. It’s beyond time that we called upon Grandmamma.’

  The girls trotted along the wide passageway together. They tapped on their grandmother’s door and let themselves in, stopping dead in their tracks when the most unusual creature turned to face them from the stool where she sat at their grandmother’s feet. Emma sensed that they had interrupted a fierce battle of wills—and judging from her grandmother’s curmudgeonly expression, she had not been winning.

  ‘Ah, acceptable company at last!’ Grandmother looked at her most bizarre. She had tied a scarf around her head, fastening it on the top in a flamboyant bow. Sandwell would be mortified if she insisted upon stepping out of her room with her lovely thick white hair tied up like a parcel. ‘This is Miss Latimer, who is quite the most opinionated young person it has ever been my misfortunate to encounter. Miss Latimer, my granddaughters, Emma and Mary, who occasionally recall that I am alive.’

  If Miss Latimer was disconcerted by Grandmamma’s acerbic tongue, she gave no sign. Instead she stood and bobbed a curtsey.

  ‘Ladies,’ she said in a friendly yet deferential tone.

  ‘We are so very pleased that you have come, Miss Latimer,’ Emma said. ‘Don’t be put off by Grandmamma’s sharp tongue. She means nothing by it.’

  Grandmamma clicked the tongue in question. ‘You don’t have the first idea what I do or do not mean.’

  Emma leaned over to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. ‘I know very well, since you do so enjoy voicing your opinions.’

  ‘Perhaps I would do so more frequently if I ever saw the pair of you.’

  ‘We call upon you every day,’ Mary said, taking her turn to kiss their grandmother, ‘as well you know. If we call more frequently you complain that we interrupt your routine.’

  ‘I cannot abide all your silly chatter, child.’

  �
�What have you done to your hair, Grandmamma?’ Emma asked, sharing a bemused look with Miss Latimer.

  Grandmamma harrumphed. ‘I am trying to drum some sense into the head of this tiresome child who has been sent to annoy me.’

  ‘Her ladyship insists that I style my hair in a more flattering manner,’ Miss Latimer explained. ‘I fail to understand why it should matter to her, but she is quite determined.’ She spread her hands apologetically. ‘Unfortunately, I don’t have the first idea how to do it any other way. Besides, my hair is very disorderly when left to its own devices. All wayward curls that have a mind of their own.’

  ‘Oh, lucky you!’ Mary sent her an envious look. ‘Emma and I must both rely upon the curling irons.’

  ‘I don’t suppose they encourage anything wayward in your world—’

  ‘Grandmamma!’ Emma and Mary exclaimed in unison.

  ‘It’s all right, ladies. The countess was attempting to elicit a shocked response from me, but she already knows she will have to work a great deal harder than that if she is to get her reward.’

  ‘Ha!’ Grandmamma gathered her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, looking discomposed for the first time in Emma’s recent recollection. Perhaps whoever had selected Miss Latimer had seen through her youth and knew she would be precisely the right foil to temper Grandmamma’s idiosyncrasies.

  ‘We are delighted to welcome you here, Miss Latimer,’ Emma said, meaning it. ‘Now, if only you can get Grandmamma to remove that ridiculous scarf.’

  ‘There is nothing ridiculous about it,’ Grandmamma huffed. ‘I will have you know that this particular scarf was a gift from an Indian raj whom I met at Court in my younger days. The queen loves everything about the Indian sub-continent. We were lovers, the raj and me, and he gave me extravagant presents as a demonstration of his undying affection.’ She chuckled, something else Emma had not heard her do for months. The chuckle came in response to Emma and Mary’s shocked expressions which, of course, had been Grandmamma’s intention. Miss Latimer seemed unmoved by accounts of Grandmamma’s illicit affairs, and that clearly disappointed her.

  ‘The ridiculous man seemed to think that I would leave your grandfather and move to India with him.’ She flapped a hand dismissively. ‘As though I would disgrace the family name in such a fashion. Besides, all that heat and the flies wouldn’t have suited me at all.’

  ‘You took a lover, though,’ Miss Latimer said calmly. ‘That seems rather daring.’

  ‘It would to someone as straight-laced as you are, but everyone who’s anyone takes a lover nowadays. No one thinks anything of it. I’ve had half a dozen at least during my time. But I would never have left Beranger Court and the raj was the only one who seemed to think that I should, just because I once said that I would like to ride on an elephant and shoot a tiger.’

  ‘Don’t talk about your lovers during the party, Grandmamma, or you will frighten Miss Carlton off,’ Mary scolded.

  ‘Ah, now there’s a thought!’

  The girls groaned when Grandmamma’s eyes came alight with mischief. Emma despaired, but part of her also relished the prospect of one of the old lady’s outbursts. It would do no harm for Miss Carlton to witness it before she made any sort of commitment. If she couldn’t sense the underlying goodness in a woman who had lived a full and active life and was frightened off by thoughts of becoming related to her, then Luke could congratulate himself on a narrow escape. Besides, Emma reasoned, if she was clever and reached an agreement with Mr Watson before the party began, then Luke would be under no immediate pressure to marry anyone at all.

  That possibility appealed to Emma’s romantic nature. If pressed, she could not have said why, but she was not terribly keen on Miss Carlton. The woman went out of her way to court Emma’s good opinion. Perhaps she tried a little too hard. Or could it be that Emma sensed a brittle edge to her character that she kept well hidden? Either way, the thought of Lily Carlton becoming mistress of Beranger Court didn’t sit comfortably with Emma. Luke, in her biased opinion, could do a great deal better, and that thought increased her determination to resolve the situation for him by making Mr Watson return her feelings.

  Somehow.

  ‘Interesting though the history of your scarf is, Grandmamma,’ Mary said gently, squeezing the old lady’s hand, ‘you have yet to explain why you have taken to wearing it in such a flamboyant manner.’

  ‘Ask Miss Flora Latimer. She can tell you.’

  ‘Flora. What a lovely name.’ Emma smiled. ‘You are more fortunate than my sister and me. My brothers received interesting names – Luke, Charlie, Henry and Sam. But our parents seemed to run out of ideas when we girls came along and we got stuck with Emma and Mary.’

  ‘They are perfectly reasonable names,’ Grandmamma said stoutly.

  ‘That from a person who named her cat Zeus,’ Emma replied with a fond smile.

  ‘He looks like a Zeus. He is a natural born ruler, and ruthless too. And he has the air of a god about him.’

  Mary flashed a droll smile. ‘And I look like a plain Mary.’

  ‘Stop fishing for compliments, miss. There is nothing plain about you. Any man would be lucky to have you. Mind you,’ she added, shaking a crooked finger beneath Mary’s nose, ‘he will have to pass muster before I give my permission. Not that anyone cares what I have to say, but that isn’t the point. I can’t have you marrying some spineless imbecile with more money than sense. He would bore you rigid, take it from one who knows. Women are allowed to have minds of their own nowadays, after a fashion, which is more than can be said for my time. So take advantage of the progress that’s been made, both of you, and find men willing to listen to your opinions. Men who can stimulate your minds as well as your bodies.’

  ‘Grandmamma!’ two scandalised voices cried in unison.

  ‘Stop pretending that you don’t find my advice insightful. Anyone else will tell you to do as you’re told and give no trouble because your husbands know best.’ She flapped a hand. ‘Bah! Men are blind fools. Everyone knows that any woman with half a brain can run rings around the whole damned lot of them.’

  ‘You are having an immediately beneficial effect upon her, Miss Latimer,’ Emma said in a quiet aside. ‘That is the most sense I’ve heard her speak in weeks.’

  ‘Well then, I am glad. Your grandmother is a wise woman in spite of her colourful past, or perhaps because of it. She is not nearly as senile as she would have the world believe, and you could do worse than follow her advice.’

  ‘What are you two whispering about?’ Grandmamma demanded.

  ‘I was just explaining to Lady Emma that you will not take the scarf off unless I do something with my hair. And just for a little peace, I would do so. However, as I’ve already explained, I don’t have the first idea how to go about it.’

  ‘Oh, that’s easily fixed.’ Mary jumped to her feet. ‘May I borrow your hairbrush, if you don’t have immediate plans to hurl it at any of us, Grandmamma?’

  ‘I most emphatically do not hurl my possessions.’

  ‘No, darling, of course you do not. Go and borrow some pins from Grandmamma’s dressing table,’ Mary told Emma. ‘And Miss Latimer, if you would kindly let your hair down we shall see what we can do.’

  ‘Not so fast.’ Miss Latimer smiled as she held up a hand. ‘First, your grandmother must drink the tincture that I went to the trouble of making up for her.’

  ‘What is it?’ Emma picked up the cup, sniffed its contents and wrinkled her nose.

  ‘It is to help with the pain your grandmother has in her hands. But she says she has no pain and refuses to drink the tincture. Well, she is not the only one who can be stubborn.’ Miss Latimer folded her arms across her chest. ‘My hair remains exactly as it is unless she drinks it.’

  ‘I keep telling you,’ Grandmamma said huffily. ‘It will do no good.’

  ‘But it won’t do any harm either. Drink it to oblige me, otherwise I shall read to you from the bible for the next hour.’

&nbs
p; Grandmamma narrowed her eyes at Miss Latimer, her expression stubbornly determined. They had all been attempting to get Grandmamma to admit to her pain but she steadfastly stuck to the illusion that she had none. She had refused all offers of similar tinctures, but Emma was somehow not surprised when she eventually picked up the cup with a disgruntled huff and downed its contents in one.

  ‘Tastes almost as bad as the wine that the Duke of York used to serve when he was short of funds, which was most of the time.’ Grandmamma set the cup aside and wiped the back of her mouth with her handkerchief. ‘He only ever invited us to dine so that he could touch your grandfather for a loan. He never repaid them, of course, so we got wise to his stratagem and found we had alternate engagements whenever his invitations arrived. Right, miss. Now it’s your turn to keep your side of the bargain.’

  ‘By all means.’

  Miss Latimer reached up and unpinned what was, Emma was obliged to agree, a very ugly arrangement. She ran her fingers through the long plait to loosen it, and Emma noticed an immediate improvement as thick burnished curls tumbled down to Miss Latimer’s bottom.

  ‘You see what I mean,’ she said, spreading her hands in an apologetic gesture. ‘It’s quite hopeless, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ Mary set to with the brush. ‘Well done,’ she said in an undertone, so that Grandmamma, who was slightly hard of hearing—another deficiency which she refused to admit to—would not overhear. ‘No one has managed to make her drink a tincture before. She obviously likes you.’

  ‘And I her. She is quite a character. I’ve never met anyone who enjoys being so outrageous before.’

  Mary chuckled. ‘I should think not.’

  ‘Well anyway, I shall be surprised if we don’t see an immediate improvement in her hands.’

  ‘She won’t admit it,’ Emma said, joining in the whispered aside.

  ‘I shall know,’ Miss Latimer assured them.