16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

W hen Ernest returned from Manchester the following day, he found a letter from Caroline awaiting him. Her father had not been pleased at his refusal to accept the plantation funds, but Caroline had assured Ernest she had smoothed matters over and intended to call on him that very afternoon to discuss the matter further. As he read the letter, still dressed in his traveling clothes, Ernest groaned.

“Why must she be a constant presence?” he said out loud, as his sister entered the hallway.

There was a scent of roses in the air – the lingering perfume of a departed guest – and Ernest feared Caroline had already paid a visit during his absence. He looked up at his sister, who smiled, raising her eyebrows as she glanced at the letter.

“Another missive?” she said, and Ernest nodded.

“She thinks she can summon an audience with me at her whim and pleasure. Was she here yesterday?” he asked, and Isobel shook her head.

“No, why do you ask?” she replied, looking surprised, and Ernest sniffed the air.

“I can smell roses – you don’t wear a perfume like it. I’m the same as father, I can smell things long after others can’t,” he said, and his sister laughed.

“But it doesn’t mean you can differentiate – father can. No…it was Alicia. She was here yesterday,” Isobel replied, and it was Ernest’s turn to appear surprised.

“Alicia? But why was she here?” he asked, for he had informed her he would be away the previous day.

“I invited her. Mother and I took tea with her. It was a delightful afternoon,” Isobel replied, smiling at Ernest who rolled his eyes.

“Playing matchmaker, I suppose,” he said, and his sister reached out and took hold of his hand.

“Oh…Ernest, where’s the harm in it? She’s a delight. Why won’t you admit your feelings for her?” she said, and Ernest groaned.

He did not like to think of his sister and mother interfering in such things. His mind was made up over Alicia, and as much as he did have feelings for her, he was of the conclusion those feelings could never amount to anything more than that.

“You know there’s harm in it, Isobel. If she knew about my past…well, if anyone knew about my past. All the money for the schools – they’re hardly going to trust me, are they? A man who threw away a fortune at the gambling tables…no, Isobel. I won’t subject her to that. Please…you’ve got to stop interfering,” Ernest exclaimed.

He did not normally lose his temper. Over the years, Ernest had learned to remain calm in the face of adversity, but to think his sister and mother had risked exposing his past, had risked the future of the schools, in an ill-guided attempt at matchmaking was too much…

“Oh, Ernest…we just want you to be happy. I don’t think mother understood the hold Caroline has over you. I’ve tried to explain it to her, but…if you’d just let me help you,” Isobel implored him, but Ernest’s mind was made up, and with an angry gesture, he retreated to his study, finding himself faced with a pile of correspondence as he awaited the inevitable arrival of Caroline.

***

“ T hey’re all talking about it, though I suppose we’ve made it obvious, haven’t we?” she said, leaning on Ernest’s desk as he scribbled a hasty response to a letter concerning the provisions for a board of governors for the school.

“What’s that?” he asked, looking up at Caroline, who smiled.

“When we walked along the river banks the other day. Everyone saw us, didn’t they?” she said, and Ernest nodded.

“I’m sure they did, yes,” he replied.

Caroline tutted.

“You’re not listening to me, Ernest,” she said, and Ernest put down his quill and sat back in his chair.

He knew he would have no peace until he had heard what Caroline had come to say. But his mind was elsewhere – on his correspondence, on the many tasks he had to complete before the opening of the school, and on Alicia. Try as he might, he could not stop thinking about her, wondering what she was thinking after the strategic attempts of his sister and mother to bring them together.

“What is it, Caroline? I’ve got a lot to do,” Ernest said, and Caroline folded her arms and fixed him with a haughty expression.

“Well…if you’re too busy for your betrothed,” she said, her expression changing to a smile.

Ernest looked at her with a confused expression.

“I…I don’t know what you mean,” he said, and Caroline rolled her eyes and tutted.

“Oh, Ernest, you know what they’re all saying about us, don’t you? The whole ton,” she exclaimed.

Ernest did not know what they were saying about him. He avoided the gossip of the ton at all costs and had no interest in being privy to rumor and scandal. To partake in such things was to risk his own reputation, for to gossip about another invited prying eyes into his own business, too. It was uncharitable to indulge in such pursuits, and those who did deserved their fingers to be burned in return…

“I can’t imagine what they’re saying,” Ernest replied, though he was beginning to fear he might do.

The walk along the riverbanks had been entirely staged. He knew Caroline’s intentions, even as he hoped they had not come to fruition. She was relentless in the pursuit of her ambitions, and as much as Ernest had tried to resist, the inevitability of what was to come now weighed heavily on him.

“Oh, Ernest, didn’t you see the jealous looks they were giving us? The young ladies with their parasols, on the arms of their own gentlemen admirers. They looked at us and compared themselves – “there goes a courting couple,” they might’ve said, and they’d be right. Wouldn’t they?” she asked.

Ernest looked up at her. Her eyes were fixed on him, willing his agreement. What choice did he have but to give it? She had him in her power, and now he nodded.

“I’m sure they would,” he replied.

Caroline smiled and clapped her hands together in delight. She took hold of the hem of her skirt, and humming to herself, she twirled around the study, pretending to be in the midst of a waltz.

“Oh…I feel light as a feather. Da, da, dee, da, da, da, da, dee da, da,” she hummed, smiling at Ernest, who sighed.

He had had no choice but to appease her. She had created an impression, and to disabuse others of it would be to create a scandal. It was all part of her game, and this was the moment of checkmate.

“Caroline, I…” Ernest stammered, but Caroline raised her finger to her lips.

“Now, I know what you’re going to say, but there’s really nothing to worry about. I explained your objection to the plantation to my father. He was quite understanding of the matter, but he asks you to think about the possibility of colonial finance – it’s not all sugar plantations, you know. They import tobacco and cotton, too,” she said.

This had not been what Ernest was going to say, even as he was relieved to have won a minor victory over the use of such dirty money. But it was the matter of the courtship he found most worrying – a courtship Caroline had maneuvered herself into, even as Ernest wanted desperately to extract himself. Was a school really worth sacrificing his happiness for? But the thought of the children in Manchester, of the poor in Lancaster, of the needs of so many, held him back. This was his duty, and he could not shirk from it, even as he felt powerless to resist Caroline’s advances. She held sway over him, and it seemed there was nothing he could do to prevent the march towards the inevitable.

“I’m sure, yes,” Ernest replied, hoping she might now leave him alone.

But Caroline had other plans.

“Let’s go to the coffeehouse. We should be seen together. All those wagging tongues need something to talk about, don’t they?” Caroline exclaimed, and Ernest looked up at her imploringly.

“Please…Caroline, I’ve got a lot to do,” he replied, but Caroline waved her hand dismissively.

“Oh, you can see to that later. I’m sure no one could begrudge you a little celebration, Ernest. You work so hard. Come now, I’ll summon the carriage,” she replied, sweeping out of the study, and calling out her orders across the hallway.

Ernest had no choice but to follow her, finding his sister standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking on as Caroline shouted at the butler to bring her hat and shawl.

“What’s going on?” Isobel whispered.

“We’re going out,” Ernest replied, and his sister raised her eyebrows.

“I see…” she said, as Caroline came to take Ernest by the arm.

She was gushing, a smile spread across her face, and she looked up at Ernest with a doting look as she clasped his hand in hers.

“Oh, Isobel, isn’t it wonderful?” she exclaimed.

Isobel had no choice but to nod in agreement – she, too, knew what was at stake – and Caroline now led Ernest outside, where his own carriage was being brought round from the stables.

“Take us to Sampson’s Coffeehouse, will you?” Ernest said, and the driver nodded.

“Yes, my Lord,” he said, as Ernest helped Caroline into the compartment.

Ernest had caught a whiff of Alicia’s perfume, still lingering in the hallway, but it was now overcome with the scent of Caroline’s pungent application – cedarwood and lavender. She had doused herself in it, and the effect in the small compartment was somewhat overbearing – just like her.

“Now, we’ll go to the coffeehouse, then we can go and see the progress on the building work. I want to make sure things are progressing quickly. We’ve got the soup kitchen tomorrow, and it’s the first chance we’ll get to distribute the clothes,” Caroline said, hardly pausing for breath as she reeled off a dozen further considerations, each with herself as the principal actor.

Ernest had given up arguing – there was no argument. Caroline’s mind was made up, and the more Ernest resisted, the more she would continue to wear him down.

Perhaps I should just go along with it, Ernest thought to himself, saying nothing, as Caroline continued to hold forth as to her intentions for the coming days.

Everything she did, everything she planned, everything she expected was meant to be seen and known about. She had positioned herself as being indispensable to the project, even as none of the ideas were her own, and the work was always someone else’s. But it was not only the school and the poor she intended to be seen lauding it over, but Ernest, too. He felt powerless to resist her, knowing how easily she could withdraw her father’s financial backing and bring an end to everything Ernest had worked so hard for. The question of the plantations had been a test, and whilst Ernest had won the battle, the threat still lingered.

“Ah, here we are, Ernest. Come along, I can smell the coffee from here. Isn’t it delicious? We wouldn’t have this if it wasn’t for the plantations, either,” Caroline said, climbing down from the carriage and making a show of herself as Ernest climbed down next to her.

Sampson’s Coffeehouse was found on a fashionable row of shops in the center of Lancaster. It was a place to see and to be seen, and Ernest knew precisely why Caroline had brought him there that day. She wanted them to be seen together in public, and Ernest had no doubt the news of their coupling would soon reach Alicia, via whoever might happen to be taking refreshment in the coffeehouse that day. A large door led into a wood paneled room, where the air was heady with the scent of coffee, and tables were arranged around the room, set with dainty cloths, and empty cups waiting to be filled from the large pots carried by smartly dressed waiters.

“We’ll sit towards the back,” Ernest said, but Caroline let out a cry of indignation, directing Ernest to a table in the window.

“No, I like to see what’s going on, Ernest,” she exclaimed, seating herself and calling for the nearest waiter to fill her cup.

Ernest sat opposite her, nodding to the waiter, who poured him a cup of coffee as Caroline looked around her.

“Will there be anything more, my Lord?” the waiter asked, and Ernest shook his head.

“No…” he began, but Caroline interrupted him.

“Gingerbread…some scones, too,” she said, and the waiter nodded.”

“Yes, Lady Caroline,” he replied, as Caroline continued looking around the room.

“Oh, look, there’s Lady Lucas again – she was by the river yesterday. I hope she’s seen us. And Mrs. Bell – Philomena Bell. She’ll have noticed. She’s got a daughter she’s trying desperately to marry off. It’ll be a third son for her, or a clergyman. And there’s…” she whispered, but Ernest interrupted her.

“Must we do this?” he asked, taking a sip of coffee.

It tasted strong and bitter, and he grimaced, setting down the cup, as Caroline looked at him with an innocent expression, “Do what?” she asked, and Ernest sighed.

“Make a show of ourselves. I don’t like to be the center of attention. Centers of attention are always the ones to be commented on, picked over, judged,” he said, remembering the furor over his breakup with Eleanor.

The matter had been kept quiet, but he knew whispered rumors had spread, and the thought of being subject to them again was too much.

“Oh, nonsense, Ernest. We want to be seen,” Caroline said, nodding to Lady Lucas, who had now caught sight of them from across the wood-paneled room.

Soon, their presence was the obvious talk of everyone in the coffeehouse, and Ernest had no choice but to endure the stares and know the assumptions being made. It was just what Caroline wanted, and Ernest felt trapped, unable to disabuse her of the idea they were now betrothed, and knowing the whole ton would soon think the same…