Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

J o felt at a loose end after the canal discussion. Alfred had not asked her to ride or walk with him. She would have liked to go for a ride with George, but he had gone out with Captain Delafield, Mama was resting, Papa was ensconced with Lord Bengrove, and Catherine had gone with Lady Bengrove and Lady Misterton to look around the shops in Winchester. Or to harass the shopkeepers, Jo thought uncharitably. She was glad not to be with them. Instead, she took the latest newspapers to a back parlour to make her usual notes about interesting business articles. She forced herself to concentrate on that for a couple of hours, but eventually the mixture of feelings she'd experienced during the canal discussion began to occupy her mind. She put her notebook away and fetched her bonnet.

The younger children were playing cricket on the lawn with a couple of grooms and a footman, but Jo didn't feel like joining them. Instead, she went into the flower garden—the scene of yesterday's stilted conversation with Alfred. She had still not managed to discuss where they were to live if they married, nor to raise the issue of her investment interests. After this morning, she was fairly certain he would object to her having any say in investing the funds she would bring to the marriage. Could she really live with a man who had no respect for her opinions or judgement? Particularly when his own judgement appeared to be so poor. And from whom she already had a secret.

She wandered on into the rose garden, spying Lydia in the distance walking arm in arm with James Newman. Jo felt a flash of envy. Lydia and James were in each other's company whenever possible, chatting comfortably and teasing each other, or just enjoying being together. Aunt Sarah was expecting them to announce their betrothal soon.

‘Chatting comfortably' didn't describe the time she'd spent with Alfred. There was that enticing smile of his, but she was beginning to think that might be his only good point. Even more telling was the relief she'd felt when Papa said that discussing the settlements didn't mean she was committed to the marriage.

She walked to the edge of the park, still thinking, and when she turned back her decision had been made—there would be no marriage. Papa had wanted her to be sure of her feelings, and now she was. He'd also not wanted Mama to be disappointed, but Mama was so much better now, thanks to Captain Delafield's suggestion and her own determination, that Jo's decision should not set her back. She already shared Jo's opinion of Lord and Lady Bengrove.

However, despite Lord Bengrove having been reminded by Papa that she had only promised to wait for Alfred, the Bengroves appeared to think they were actually betrothed. She must ask Papa about the best way of dealing with that assumption.

Two horsemen on the drive looked like George and Captain Delafield returning from their ride, and before she reached the house George joined her, still in his outdoor clothing. He looked troubled.

"Did you enjoy your ride?"

His brow cleared, and he gave his ready smile. "Indeed. Delafield's a capital fellow. He suggested I ask Papa if I can start learning about the estate and land here. Help the steward, you know."

"I didn't think you were interested in that?"

"I wasn't, but it will be mine one day, and I think I could be interested if Papa will let me make improvements. Delafield invited me to go and see his brother's farms, and talk about the newest ideas." George hesitated then, frowning.

"George?"

"I was just thinking it's a pity you're not going to marry someone like Delafield instead of Bengrove. I'm sorry, Jo, but I really cannot like him. Or his family."

Marry someone like Captain Delafield?

Jo put that idea out of her mind for now. "Alfred's parents are… unpleasant, I agree." George looked so concerned that Jo wanted to tell him she had already decided against the match, but she did not. She should tell her parents and Alfred first.

"Jo, do you remember asking me if I'd told him about you being an only child, and your father wealthy?"

She nodded.

"I said I hadn't, and he hadn't asked. Now, I think it's because he already knew. He joined in a card game at my club, won a bit of money off me. He was friendly, and…"

"And a heroic cavalry officer?"

George's face reddened. "Yes—I was more foolish then. The thing is, he more or less invited himself to accompany me when I said Mama was expecting me here. Said it was my chance to win the money back."

"Was it a lot?"

"Not really. It would have used my quarter's allowance to pay him, so I'd have asked Papa for a little more. But I heard that he played deep while he was away, so now, not winning a lot from me seems odd."

"Indeed it does. Thank you for telling me, George."

He peered at her face. "I haven't upset you, have I, Jo? I didn't mean to."

"No, you haven't. But the thought that he may have only courted me for my money isn't flattering."

"There'll be someone for you, Jo." He gave her a brotherly clap on the shoulder and went into the house.

She found a bench and sat down. It had been plain from the start that Lord Bengrove had wanted some of Papa's money; why had it taken her so long to realise that Alfred almost certainly had the same aim? The charming smile and honeyed words had fooled her, and she had spent much of the time he had been in France making excuses for his poor letters. George was right—she wanted someone who respected her abilities and her wish to use them, someone with a sense of humour, a smile that warmed her inside, and not so inflated with an idea of his own worth that he could not laugh at himself.

Someone like Captain Delafield—or the captain himself? She didn't know, but she would like to find out.

Did he care for her in that way? He had shown no sign of any liking beyond friendship, but how could he when he thought she was betrothed to another?

She had to detach herself from the Bengroves before she could think about that, so she set off back to the house; Papa would be in the library. Papa, who must have known that Alfred was a fortune hunter all this time, and had let her continue to make a fool of herself.

"Is something wrong, Jo?" Papa folded his newspaper and set it aside.

Jo came to a stop in front of the table. "I've been thinking about Alfred."

He nodded. "Have you reached a conclusion?"

"I cannot marry him." But that wasn't all she wanted to say. "Papa, you knew the Bengroves—all of them—were fortune hunters. Why didn't you tell me?" Somehow that hurt more than finding that she'd been mistaken about Alfred.

"I didn't know , Jo. I only suspected. Sit down, please."

She sat, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "You investigated the Bengrove finances, didn't you? When that announcement was put into the paper, I mean." Any father would have done.

"Of course. But I dropped my initial enquires when Alfred was reported missing, and we visited Bengrove Hall only a short time after we learned he had been taken prisoner. That didn't give me time to complete my enquiries before we went. However, that visit roused my suspicions. Do you recall Lady Bengrove talking about you living at the Court for some years?"

"Yes."

"Why, when you will have a substantial dowry, would she not be encouraging her son to buy his own estate? Or at least rent a house in the country until the two of you decide where you wish to settle."

"She seemed to think I needed instruction in how to run a large house."

"No. She knew Frances is an earl's daughter, and would have trained you for that. Afterwards, I discovered that Lord Bengrove had put it about—discreetly—that Alfred was betrothed to you. No doubt that was to appease his creditors, as I found that the family is deep in debt. Anything not entailed has been sold, the remaining lands have outstanding mortgages, and their two other estates are let to long-term tenants. I expect they are planning on using your dowry, and your inheritance on my demise, to pay their debts."

So when Lady Bengrove had talked about her eventually running a large house, she'd meant when Papa died. "Why did you allow me to continue thinking we might still wed when Alfred returned?"

"None of this showed that Alfred was part of the plan. His parents may have just?—"

"No, Papa." Jo repeated what George had told her. "You thought I should get to know him again, but I've seen enough of him now. I had already decided we are not suited before George spoke to me."

Papa smiled. "I am relieved to hear it, Jo. It is best that you made this decision yourself, rather than my just forbidding the match. I don't think your mama will be too upset about your decision if you explain."

"How do we tell the Bengroves?"

"Leave that to me. I discussed the settlements with Lord Bengrove this morning; he was not pleased with my proposals, which will tie up your money so that neither he nor Alfred can use enough of it to solve the family's financial problems. He appears to be under the impression that he can persuade me to change my mind, but I will not. Once he realises that, I think he will be happy for his son to be free to charm some other heiress."

"Poor girl."

Papa chuckled. "Indeed. However it will be quite an uncomfortable situation for everyone once the matter is made plain, and it is rather late in the day now for the Bengroves to depart, so I will avoid any further discussion with them until tomorrow."

"No, Papa." And she must confess to Mama about the letters.

Mama was not in the parlour, although Lady Bengrove and Lady Misterton were. Jo beat a hasty retreat before they could say anything to her, and asked the butler if he knew where Mama was.

"She went into the gardens with Lady Yelden, miss, just as the other ladies returned from Winchester." Stevenson had his usual impassive expression, but she detected a slight twitch of his lips.

She could not confide in Mama with Aunt Sarah present; she would have to wait until they returned to dress for dinner. "Stevenson, should anyone enquire, I have gone for a walk."

"Yes, Miss Stretton."

In her room, Jo took out her two packets of letters and sorted through them. She was not going to marry Alfred, whatever Mama said, but she would prefer to have Mama's blessing for her decision. She left her door open so she would hear Mama returning to her room down the corridor and sat in the window seat to wait. The book she was reading remained closed in her lap, and eventually she fetched some of Captain Delafield's letters. Now she had met him, she could picture his expression as he wrote some of his self-deprecating comments, the way his eyes might have crinkled at the corners if one of her letters amused him. She had not spent much time with him, but she already knew more about him than she did of Alfred.

That wasn't quite true, she realised. Alfred's letters were as good a reflection of his character and disposition as Captain Delafield's; she did know him, but there was not much in him to admire, or even like.

Rob changed out of his riding clothes, debating with himself how to pass the time until dinner. He'd seen Miss Stretton walking in the gardens as he and Yelden rode up to the house; the temptation to see if she was still out there walking was strong, but he must not. In fact, for his own future peace of mind, it would be better if he saw as little of her as possible. Nor did he want to encounter any of the other Bengroves, so he settled for trying to read in the bedroom he shared with Chadwick.

"Good ride?" Chadwick asked when he entered the room a couple of hours later.

"Mostly." He related the incident with Bengrove, to Chadwick's amusement. "You?"

Chadwick shrugged. "Practising my aim at billiards. Alone."

"Really? Bengrove's brother seems keen on the game."

"Only when young Yelden's around, hadn't you noticed?"

"What? No." His attention had been too focused on Miss Stretton.

"Keeping the field clear for his brother, I imagine. Can't have her marrying her cousin, can they, not when they need the money she'll bring."

Rob shook his head. "Yelden's a nice enough chap, but he seems to think of her more like a sister."

"That's good." Chadwick winked.

"What do you mean?"

Chadwick raised his brows. "Would you court her if she weren't engaged to that arse?"

"But she is." He'd want to, that was certain, but he'd tried not to think about it. Bengrove wasn't the only obstacle. "And no, I wouldn't."

"Really? Why not?"

"Her father's as rich as Croesus."

"So?"

"I've no income apart from the rent from a small farm. Not enough to support her as she is used to. And not much chance of getting more. Would you want to live off your wife's money?"

"That would probably depend on the wife. "

It would still feel like taking advantage. "Forget about it, John, please. You're really not helping. Besides, what you're suggesting would require her to like me as…" As much as I like her. Although he was coming to think that ‘like' was far too bland a word to describe his feelings.

Chadwick stared at him a moment longer, then turned back to the mirror to finish straightening his cravat. "What say you to excusing ourselves from dinner and spending the evening in the village inn?"

"That's the most sense you've come out with all day!"

At last, Jo heard Mama's voice in the corridor and followed her into her room. "Mama, may I talk to you?"

Mama was unfastening her pelisse; Jo helped her remove it and laid it over the back of a chair. "Of course, dear. Is something wrong?"

"Not wrong, precisely."

Mama sat down and looked at Jo expectantly. But now she had her mother's full attention, Jo didn't know where to start.

"Are you enjoying being with Alfred, dear?"

Jo took a deep breath. "Mama, I hope you are not too disappointed, but I cannot marry him."

Her mother frowned. "Why not? He has not seemed quite the charming young man I remember from when we first met him, but he is probably finding it difficult to adjust to being free again. He wrote you some very good letters, Jo. It might just be that he does not show to advantage with his parents and brother always seeming to keep watch on him."

"It's not that, Mama." His family had been keeping watch, but on her, not Alfred. Why else would Mr Bengrove or his father appear every time she talked to George, or to Captain Delafield and his friend? She held out the packet of letters from Alfred. "These are his letters."

Still puzzled, Mama took them and began to read. "Oh, dear—he did find his life in Verdun confining… He wasn't very complimentary ab out Captain Delafield…" She read on, with no further comment until she had finished, then she looked through them again. "But how is this, Jo? I remember you reading out more than… more than these compliments."

"Those weren't from Alfred. The compliments there…" she pointed to the letters in her mother's hand, "…are the only substance in his letters. Mama, we have nothing to talk about, and I believe he only came to Yelden two years ago to court me for my dowry and inheritance."

"Are you sure about this, Jo?"

"Very sure. It was Alfred's false charm that attracted me, not his father's title. I began to wonder if we would suit after a few months of his letters, but Papa said I should wait until he returned. You were so set on the connection while… while you were unwell, and he didn't want to disappoint you."

Mama sighed, then nodded. "Very well. I only want you to be happy, Jo, and I can see that you would not be if you married into that family. Alfred would have to be a paragon indeed to make up for his parents. Does your father know of your decision?"

"Yes. Mama, I cannot face dinner sitting next to Alfred and pretending all is well. I will ask for a tray in my room. Papa thinks the Bengroves will leave tomorrow once they know." She stood, hoping that was the end of the explanations for now. She could leave her other confession until later.

"But Jo, if Alfred did not write those things about returning soldiers, and the other things you read out, who did?"