Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"I do love the gardens at Downside," Olivia said, as they came to the ha-ha, where the garden fell away to parkland beyond, where deer grazed below ancient oaks, and, in the distance, a river meandered gently through the open countryside.

It was an idyllic scene, and the thought of losing it - of losing everything familiar, everything his family had been given - filled Jacob with horror. As they turned back towards the house, that same feeling pervaded, and Jacob knew what he had to do. His principles were one thing - as were his feelings for Olivia. But duty to his name and title, to his inheritance, necessitated more than his own feelings.

"What would you say if it was all lost?" he asked, and Olivia looked at him curiously.

"What do you mean? Why would it be lost?" she asked, and Jacob sighed.

He knew he had to tell her - to make her understand the difficulties he was facing. Jacob did not want to lose Downside, but neither did he want to lose Olivia, either. He was in love with her, and yet he did not know if she was in love with him. The two of them were always together, the closest of friends, but as for Olivia's feelings towards him…

"I'm in trouble, Olivia," he replied - for he knew he had no choice but to confide in her.

He had not wanted to tell her the extent of his difficulties, even as he knew it would be impossible to hide them from her if the worst came to the worst. Without money, what could he hope to offer her? Certainly not the sort of life she was accustomed to. Olivia's father was a wealthy man, and having lost her mother at a young age, Olivia had been doted on by her father, who had lavished her throughout her life with the finest of things.

"Trouble? What sort of trouble?" she asked, pausing and turning to him with a puzzled look on her face.

Jacob now explained something of his difficulties - the lack of money, and his fear the house and estate would have to be sold if funds could not be raised. Olivia listened, shaking her head and tutting.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, when he had finished his explanation - though still holding back on the solution offered by Thomas Davidson.

"I… well, I didn't want to concern you with it. It wasn't necessary," Jacob replied.

"But you should've done. No money? What's to become of Downside?" Olivia asked, shaking her head.

Jacob blushed. He did not like talking about money. Money had always been something he had had - and in abundance. It had never been necessary to question whether there was enough of it, or to be concerned as to it running out. But now, faced with the prospect of absolute ruin, Jacob was fearful.

"Well… if I can't raise the necessary funds, the house would have to be sold," Jacob replied.

He knew he was sealing his fate - at least as far as Olivia was concerned. If he was penniless, he would never have any chance of marrying her, and if he took up Thomas' offer, he would have no chance of marrying her, either. His dreams of romance - his love for Olivia - was now to suffer a sad fate.

"Then what will you do? An earl can hardly live in a cottage," Olivia exclaimed, shaking her head.

"Well… I don't intend to do that. I… well, I've had an offer made to me. It's an investment of sorts," Jacob replied.

He hoped the two of them could remain friends, even if there could be nothing more between them. Olivia looked at him curiously.

"What sort of offer? A loan?" she asked, and Jacob shook his head.

His heart was beating fast, but whether now or later, Olivia would soon find out the truth.

"An offer of marriage, in exchange for a dowry. The money would be more than enough to cover my debts, save Downside, and make further investments to provide an income," Jacob said.

Olivia was taken aback, and she stared at him in disbelief, as Jacob blushed.

"I… but… marriage? Isn't that a little extreme? You'd marry this woman for the sake of a dowry? And who is she? I can't think of anyone in the district whose dowry would extend to such fortune," Olivia said.

"Charlotte Davidson," Jacob replied.

He did not know how Charlotte was regarded in local society - if at all. Jacob did not care for idle gossip, nor did he seek out the opinions of others when it came to judging who his friends might be. But Olivia now raised her eyebrows and smiled.

"The merchant's daughter? Oh, Jacob," she said, shaking her head, as Jacob blushed an even deeper shade of red.

"And what's wrong with her? Don't you approve?" he asked, feeling suddenly defensive.

Olivia had no right to be jealous - if that was what she was. It was an unpleasant trait in anyone, and particularly when it came to matters of the heart. But given she had made no attempt at seduction - or even hinted at any possible feelings - what right did she have to question Jacob's decision? It was not one he had made lightly, nor was it one he relished the thought of it. But the choice was made for him. He had spent lavishly, he had lost his fortune, and only Thomas Davidson's daughter gave any hope of recovering his loss.

"You can do as you please, Jacob. But I hope you won't forget me once you're married," Olivia replied.

Some - a considerable sum - of Jacob's fortune, had been lost in the various ways he had attempted to show his affections for Olivia. She had become used to his presents - a diamond necklace, pearl earrings, an oriental fan, a set of paintings by her favourite artist - all of which had been lavished on her in the hope of her realizing Jacob's feelings for her. But alas, to no avail. She had taken without giving, and had almost come to expect those things he gave her as a matter of course.

"No… I won't, I assure you. You'll always have my… affection," Jacob replied, but Olivia shook her head.

"It all seems very odd to me, Jacob. Does she even agree to the match?" Olivia asked.

Jacob shrugged his shoulders. He did not know if Charlotte had agreed to the prospect of marriage, but Thomas Davidson had seemed certain enough of what he was offering.

"I'm sure she does, yes," he replied, in a somewhat defensive tone.

"And what do you know of her?" Olivia continued, raising her eyebrows.

Jacob had to admit he knew very little about Charlotte, and from his first encounter with her, he could not imagine she would take kindly to being promised in marriage to him. But perhaps there was hope the two of them might get along–given time.

"Well, not a great deal, I admit. But I'm sure I'll learn. I'm looking forward to it," Jacob replied, even as he knew his words were strained.

It was the most bizarre of situations, but as he and Olivia returned to the house, Jacob knew he had made his choice - for good or ill.

***

"I'm going to spend the day writing. I don't care what anyone says - that's what I want to do. I'll lock myself in my bedroom if I have to. Even if they take away my paper and ink, they can't stop me from imagining my story, can they?" Charlotte said, as Sarah pulled the ties on her corset, causing her to take a sharp intake of breath.

"You don't want to always be at odds with your parents, Miss Davidson," she said, as now she turned to hold up Charlotte's dress.

"I know, but… it's so unfair," Charlotte replied.

She had not returned to the drawing room after her encounter with Lord Baxter in the library. He had upset her, and she had made up her mind there and then not to entertain any notion of ever marrying him. He was an odious man, and Charlotte detested him. But his criticism of her work had only spurned her on to greater efforts, and she had stayed up late that night, rewriting the entire first chapter of her novel and feeling very proud of it, too,

"There we are, Miss Davidson - you're all ready now," Sarah said, as Charlotte glanced at herself in the mirror and smiled.

"Thank you, Sarah. What would I do without you?" Charlotte asked, and the maid laughed.

"You'll never have to, Miss Davidson," she replied.

As Charlotte made her way downstairs for breakfast, her mind was filled with ideas for Isabella and her adventures. The first chapter of the novel had set the scene, showing Isabella out on the moors with the sheep - she was fiercely independent, and when one of her brothers had tried to interfere, telling her how best to rescue a lamb that had fallen from a crag and trapped on the side of the mountain, it was Isabella who had gone to its rescue.

But now came the trickier task of introducing the hero, and Charlotte was in two minds as to how best to stage the first encounter between the laird and Isabella.

"Perhaps he could be out hunting - and one of the sheep could stray into his path," Charlotte thought to herself, as she entered the dining room to find both her parents sitting at the table.

As she entered the room, they looked up at her, exchanging glances, as a footman stepped forward to pour Charlotte a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Charlotte. I trust you enjoyed the company of Lord Baxter last night?" Charlotte's father asked, and Charlotte shook her head.

"No, father, I didn't. I think he's an awful man. I detest him," Charlotte replied.

There was no point in denying it, even as her words caused her father to raise his eyebrows.

"Is that so?" he asked, and Charlotte shrugged.

"Well, you asked me what I thought of him," she said, reaching across the table to help herself to a slice of toast.

Her father shook his head and smiled.

"Well… no matter, I suppose. You're not going to be marrying him, so it doesn't really matter what you think of him," he said.

Charlotte looked at her father curiously, not knowing what he meant by this veiled remark. She had assumed her parents would soon put the suggestion of matrimony to her formally, that they would insist on her marrying Lord Baxter, whether she liked it or not. Charlotte would refuse, an argument would ensue, and the matter would drag its heels.

"What do you mean?" she asked, reaching for the pot marmalade.

Her parents exchanged glances.

"We've made arrangements for you, Charlotte - since you've proved so incapable of making them for yourself," Charlotte's mother said, and Charlotte looked from one to the other curiously.

"But I… I don't understand," she said, and her father cleared his throat.

"It's very simple, Charlotte. I've decided you're to be married, and I've made a suitable match with the Earl of Swadlincote. He was here the other day to discuss the matter - it's all in hand. I received a letter from him this morning," her father said.

"The stranger," Charlotte whispered to herself, realizing she had already encountered the earl without knowing it was him.

Her father's words were extraordinary - an arrangement of marriage with a man she had not even been formally introduced to. And for what reason? Had Lord Baxter fallen out of favor? What reason could there be for her to marry this man over another? But more than that - what of her own feelings? Her own opinion on the matter?

"What did you say?" Charlotte's father asked, and Charlotte blushed.

"I… he was here?" Charlotte asked, and her father nodded.

"Yes, we spoke at some length about you. I asked him if he'd consider taking your hand in marriage. I received his letter this morning - it seems he didn't need long to think about it," Charlotte's father replied.

Charlotte shook her head. It was all too much to take in. She thought back to her encounter with the earl in the garden - how they had exchanged cross words over the spilled ink, parting on the most disagreeable terms. It was hardly the best impression to have given, and Charlotte could only think what he had thought when he realized she was the one who was promised to him.

"But I don't even know him. I know nothing about him," she said, turning to her mother with an imploring look on her face.

But it seemed her parents were of one mind, and now her mother shook her head and drummed her fingers on the dining table.

"It's all decided, Charlotte. The matter's settled. You say you don't want to marry Lord Baxter, then very well. He's too old for you, anyway. The Earl of Swadlincote will make a much better match. He's not much older than you, and a man of handsome looks and an excellent disposition. You'll be the Countess of Swadlincote - won't that be wonderful?" she said, smiling at Charlotte, who shook her head.

"But… what if I don't want to be the Countess of Swadlincote?" Charlotte replied.

The thought of marrying anyone for any reason other than love filled her with horror. Marriage was a sacred act - it was meant as a union between two people who loved one another, and it was certainly not to be arranged or forced. And what reason would the earl have for wanting to marry her? Surely, a man of his disposition could marry whoever he so wished.

"Nonsense, Charlotte. What young woman wouldn't want to be the Countess of Swadlincote? It's a great honour for you - for us all. Now, your father's written back to agree, and the earl's been kind enough to invite us to dine with him tomorrow evening at Downside - the family seat. We want you to make a good impression - no talk of writing novels," her mother said.

Charlotte stared at her parents in utter disbelief. It was a done deal - the matter was settled, signed and sealed. They had not consulted, or even sought to introduce her to the man she was now to marry. It was terrible, even as she now felt powerless to resist what had so definitely been decided.

"But that's all I know - that's who I am," Charlotte replied, but her mother shook her head.

"No, Charlotte - it's not who you are. The time's come to put your silly dreams away and write your own story, if that's how you want to put it. You're to be the Countess of Swadlincote, and that's final," she replied.