Love in a Dangerous Season

  CHAPTER 1

  The inhabitants of Evergreen were expecting the Earl of Ashcom to arrive at any moment. He had been expected many hours hence, in fact, but apparently something had detained him in his journey. Tension had built as everyone at the estate waited on edge, and as a result a violent argument had broken out between Alfred Delmere and his daughter Fantine, who was the cause of the earl's journey.

  "You have gone farther than I will allow a daughter of mine to address me, miss," said Delmere angrily. "You will not oppose my orders. Lord Ashcom has offered to sponsor you for a Season in London, and we must comply with his wishes."

  Fantine's father refolded the letter in which the earl had advised him of his journey, and taking a sip of his excellent Madeira, made possible through Ashcom's bounty, glanced at his daughter resentfully, his face flushed from their heated exchange.

  To her father, thought Fantine, a visit from the Earl of Ashcom was more important than a visit from the Prince Regent, and she could see by the resentment in his eyes that he judged her behavior rebellious. Then she saw his eyes softening as he looked her over and Fantine winced, for she knew that he was now assessing her. He never tired of telling her in florid terms that her masses of dark hair, violet blue eyes, translucent complexion and lips over which men would duel, would someday be the means whereby she would contract into an advantageous marriage.

  To her father everything was weighed in terms of gain. She hated to have him go over her points as though she were a mare at auction and she turned away in dismay.

  "Ha-ha-" he laughed in satisfaction, unmindful of his daughter's displeasure, "If Ashcom thinks I'm hoisting an antidote on him, he will soon see his error, eh, gel? This must surely be the reason he now insists on coming to see for himself." But there was a nervous stridency to the laugh, as he added, to Fantine's disgust, "We'll both have a Season in London. After seeing you, Fantine, he'll be struck almost dumb by your beauty."

  "His lordship," said Fantine ignoring her father's words, "must have held his nose as he wrote the letter. It's quite obvious he is hoping I will secure a rich husband through this Season in London, thereby relieving him of the charge he inherited from his father."

  "Whatever his reasons are, my girl," countered her father in an irritated voice, "if the result of your Season is that you secure a rich husband, I cannot but bow to the earl's superior plan for you. And why should that be offensive to you, anyhow? Any girl would give her eyeteeth for a round with the ton if the result of it be that she'll be profitably married."

  "Any girl but I," Fantine retorted, turning back from the tall window from where she could see a splendid view of the park beyond Evergreen. Fantine was very fond of the wood and tried hard to forget that it belonged, as everything at Evergreen did, to him, Nicholas Leigh, Earl of Ashcom, the guest everyone waited for anxiously, although for very different reasons.

  Delmere had written the earl—a letter of which Fantine was unaware—asking if his lordship would accede to finance a London Season for his daughter, Fantine. He had waited impatiently for the mail each day, and then had been rewarded with a curt refusal. Yet not a fortnight later, the earl had written again, declaring he had reconsidered, and that he intended to visit Delmere and his family at Evergreen. His decision, he had stated in the letter, would depend on his impression of Fantine. If he felt the girl merited the expense of a Season in London, he would bear the cost of it. All this Delmere had demurred on telling his daughter. To her he had merely said that the earl had written to him, expressing his intention to sponsor Fantine for a London Season.

  Delmere's distraction from the problem at hand was only momentary and now the resentment had returned to his eyes, he turned again to his daughter with a flash of anger,

  "How on earth is the earl to view you in a pleasant light," he said in a loud voice, "when you are doing everything possible to have the opposite effect on him?"

  Fantine had a trapped look on her face as her eyes followed the winding lane where the earl's carriage would soon appear. She disliked and loathed the earl, although the only reference she had of him was that of Sir Howard Clancey, her father's steadfast partner in dissipation and gambling, who had declared the earl to be an arrogant and impatient man.

  She could see that her father was in a high froth now, for his return to the gaiety of London, after an absence of a year, due to limited funds, depended entirely on her. She knew that panic was taking hold of him now and he must be searching his mind for arguments to make her see reason.

  His reason for applying to the Earl of Ashcom for Fantine's first London Season without any need to consult her, had been that as the father of a debutante, he would be furnished with ready cash, and would be able to meet with Sir Howard Clancey in London. Fantine knew very well that her father's hands itched for the feel of gaming cards.

  Fantine's angry voice brought him back to the moment.

  "I wonder," she said in a mocking voice that was most irritating to her father, "how his lordship ever came up with such an idea. I, for one, would never have given it to him. It is enough that his family's support of us has obviously been to them only an unpleasant duty, for they have managed to avoid meeting us for three generations."

  "For that reason exactly, young lady," countered Delmere, "because they are our only support, you should realize the importance of Lord Ashcom's visit and try to compose yourself, so that he will not have the slightest hint of what you are saying now to me.

  “This dislike you harbor for him has grown through the years and I cannot comprehend why it should exist at all. He, and his family before him, have done nothing to merit it, unless you think providing for us as they do should earn them your contempt. Besides, you cannot possibly dislike someone you have never set eyes on."

  "I am quite aware, sir," said Fantine coldly, "of the sadly numerous attempts at friendship my dear grandfather tendered to them. He died without having a single one of his dozens of letters answered. It is possible to dislike someone sight unseen who values little our gestures of friendship. However grateful one is, it is impossible not to see that theirs has been a left-handed generosity. They are honor-bound to provide for us, yet it seems the idea of meeting us in person is repulsive to them.

  “And now the earl has made a trip to discuss a London Season he is sponsoring me in. I cannot but be wary of his motives. Has it never occurred to you to wonder, Father, that in the three decades he has been on this earth it is only now he has thought of meeting us?"

  "I can only be thankful that it has happened at last and hope this marks the new direction our relationship is taking," said her father, glancing impatiently at his watch, and added with a frown, "and that is how I order you to view it."

  Fantine knew her father's increasing gambling had placed him in the River Tick and it would be a miracle if he even made it to the next quarter. She often heard him mumbling worriedly to himself.

  She saw how his face was turning a dark shade of red and she surmised that thoughts of his gaming debts were the reason for this. She gazed at the absurdly high points of his collar, and at the neck cloth which he had tied in the new "mathematical," hoping, most probably, to impress the earl with these vain displays.

  According to Sir Howard, the Earl of Ashcom was a high stickler and a man who dressed well, although in the severe, unadorned manner that Beau Brummell had brought into vogue.

  Fantine guessed correctly that her father was in dread fear that news of his debts would have reached the earl before he had been able to make his explanations to him.

  The Earl of Ashcom, at thirty-one years of age, had been managing his vast estates for more than a decade, and had little time for social appearances. He had not, to be sure,
attended the Wednesday balls at Almack's—that revered temple of the ton—in half a dozen years, although his vouchers arrived promptly at the start of each Season. Legions of mamas and their debutante daughters harbored hopes they might have a chance at making a play at one of England's most highly rated matrimonial prize.

  In the few times that Ashcom had attended a private ball, the ball's hostess had been more lauded then if she had secured the Prince's attendance. This too had come from Sir Howard, who was a wealth of information on Lord Ashcom.

  From these words Fantine had made a mental sketch of the earl as a reclusive, arrogant man who disdained social appearances and looked down on those girls who sought to leg-shackle him. The fact that he was a matrimonial prize was probably due to his vast land holdings and title, and nothing more. She considered the ton to be as superficial as Sir Howard, who was notorious for toadying after titles and wealth and had never for one second wished for a season in London.

  She wished her father and Sir Howard were not such good friends, for she could remember a time when her father was critical of Sir Howard. Yet slowly, Sir Howard had made inroads in her father's life and Fantine could see his influence in everything to do with her father’s habits. It seemed to Fantine that her father had not gambled as much or drank as much before his friendship with Sir Howard, or yearn to be in London as often as he now did.

  "You will bear in mind, Fantine," Delmere said sententiously, "that it is through Lord Ashcom's generosity and his father and grandfather before him that we enjoy a comfortable living."

  "That's just it, sir," Fantine shot out angrily, her face flushing. "Why is it that they must support us through the generations? It is unseemly that you should allow it. Have we no dignity in our own family?"

  Fantine forced her mind blank as her father tried recalling her to her duty, in order to steer her away from a subject that, from the moment she had realized the conditions of their income, had obsessed her to an alarming degree. It would be devastating, he told her emphatically, if the earl should arrive in the middle of such a scene.

  The earl's great-grandfather, William Ashcom and Fantine's great-grandfather, Roger Delmere, had dueled over a woman, Fantine recalled the family history, shutting out her father's incessant voice. The Delmeres were from the poor side of the family. Roger Delmere had died—shot through the heart. Great-grandfather Delmere had been a young widower when he fought the duel, and had a son from his late wife. That son was Fantine's grandfather, Courtney Delmere. Her father was Courtney's son.

  William Ashcom had felt immense guilt, or so the story went, for having made young Courtney an orphan. At that time the child had been in the care of an aunt. He took over the upkeep of the child and continued to feel responsible for him throughout his life, as if he were his son.

  Only, he never saw him. All arrangements were made through his solicitors. Fantine’s father had grown into this arrangement, and he in turn was supported from birth on. Fantine sighed. What she most resented was that they had never wished to meet her family. Ashcom must wish to be rid of them, of the burden he inherited from his father. She felt the slights done to her grandfather as if had been done to her, as if the numerous letters her grandfather had written and obtained no reply, had been written by her.

  "You must, at all times," her father cut through her painful thoughts, "think first of the damage any action of yours will bring to the family," and went on to add severely, his voice rising, "If the earl decides not to sponsor your Season due to your behavior, you will have brought disgrace on your family."

  Unable to continue listening to words that she knew to be self-serving, Fantine stood up and went again to the window. She knew it was futile to talk to her father when all he could think of was the London Season. All this talk of a Season for her only masked the fact that through some stroke of ill luck, this decision of the earl's would provide her father with ready money. Fantine hated to be the vessel by which her father would finance his plans for idleness and London gaming when the estate was in need of his attention.

  So she made her decision. She would not allow either her father or the earl to force a London Season on her. A London Season was the last thing in the world she wanted, let alone one spent under Ashcom's roof, being beholden to him for every farthing spent on her.

  She winced at the thought of what Ashcom would say when her father lost at the tables, for his gaming was not a profitable venture. She would be there to be embarrassed again and again by her father’s behavior.

  Fantine sat by her mother and tried to calm herself, but to no avail. She felt her blood boil at the cavalier way in which her business was decided by others, but most of all by this decision of the earl. That this would be the only time in his life that he had bothered to meet the Delmeres was proof enough of the contempt in which he held her family. She became incensed at the thought that he would have even more reason to scoff at them, after he viewed the neglected condition in which her father kept the earl's lands.

  The violet-blue gaze of her eyes avoided her father. She stared at her hands instead, feeling all the impotence of those who are beholden to others for the very bread they put to their mouths. They were, she thought sadly, all of them Ashcom’s wards, no matter that her father was almost twice the earl's age.

  Her mother, who had been quietly listening to the exchange, looked at her with concern.

  "Dearest," she said, her eyes overflowing with love, "if the thing is distasteful, I'm sure we can explain to the earl and decline gracefully…"

  Mrs. Delmere was having trouble adjusting to the idea of having to live without Fantine for several months. She was a graceful woman of elegant taste and breeding, and the kindest of hearts. She had been a lovely girl in her day, and she still retained a great deal of that beauty, made ethereal now through her declining health, which gave a transparency to her complexion and lavender shadowing to her eyes.

  "She will do nothing of the kind," Alfred shot out indignantly. "Upon my word, Mrs. Delmere, I look to you for help, not hindrance!"

  When Mrs. Delmere said nothing and lowered her eyes, Alfred continued to vent his anger at her: "You are encouraging the chit to challenge my authority, madam. If you cannot bring yourself to be of use in this business it would be better if you did not concern yourself in the matter at all!"

  Fantine looked at her mother and saw that her thin, delicate hands trembled. Her father still continued to abuse her. He only stopped when there was the sound of horses on the gravel path.

  The Earl of Ashcom had arrived.

  Fantine felt a flash of anger run through her body as she and her parents walked out to the veranda and gazed at the arriving carriage. The sight of it made her choke, and a sudden need to be where he was not, took hold of her. Without a word, and taking advantage that Delmere's attention was completely taken over by the Ashcom's arrival, she slipped away from the veranda, went through the house, and out the back door. She ran towards the trees, and only breathed in relief when she had gone deep into the heart of the little wood.

  To save her life, she wouldn't have been able to explain to herself what had made her act on such an impulse. She was certain that the earl had seen her on the terrace, for she had seen a man with the bearing and dress that marked a gentleman seated by the driver. Both men had turned to see the three people on the veranda as the horses were halted. Fantine wondered at the disgust she had felt at the impending introduction to the earl.

  Her father would be furious, and would immediately send someone to fetch her back. She would be forced to explain her behavior which she would be unable to do, and her embarrassment would be great.

  Ashcom's opinion of the Delmere family had been practically carved on stone the day he inherited his title and estates. His parents had died of an epidemic that had swept through the county when he was seventeen. He had found out that the Ashcoms had supported the Delmeres literally through the ages. He had asked his guardian why this was so, and on hearing the reason, had de
cided that eventually he would bring this to an end. Then the war had caught up with him, and for years his mind was occupied with other things. His long convalescence from war wounds on his return, and the managing of the estates, which absorbed all his time, left little time for dwelling on a complicated problem that had been arranged long before he was born. So he left things as they were, and didn't again think of the Delmeres until the day when he received a letter from the son, Roger Delmere, asking for a commission. He had acceded to this request with a laconic reply, thinking that at least the young man would be shooting out on his own if he were provided with a military career. He again forgot the family, until the day a month before this visit when he had received a letter from Alfred Delmere, requesting his sponsorship of a London Season for his only daughter.

  And now his opinion of the Delmeres had gone down even lower as he saw clearly that the daughter, Fantine, had deliberately stood up and left the terrace on his arrival. He had imagined the girl as a simpering, fawning female, who had cajoled her father into writing to him in the hope of securing for herself an all-expenses-paid Season. He had prepared a set-down and a refusal both for her and for her wastrel father, and had looked forward to this with much anticipation.

  His only reason for his journey to Evergreen was to see for himself this family that had been supported by the Ashcoms for so long, and what kind of people they were.

  He also wanted to see for himself how this estate that belonged to him, was faring, for he had received report after report of its neglected state from acquaintances in the region. But his carefully laid plans were now momentarily postponed, for the girl had left abruptly.

  Ashcom couldn't imagine why she had bolted out like that. She must surely come back soon, and had probably just gone inside in some ill-advised effort to make herself interesting, or else she imagined, wrongly, he would wallow in suspense. On the other hand, perhaps she had a good reason for her action and would be returning shortly.