Page 31 of Snowbound Surrender

SNOWED-IN WITH SCANDAL

BEVERLEY OAKLEY

CHAPTER 1

Fanny Brightwell staredout of the window at the fast falling snow. “I don’t think our grand gathering is going to consist of more than Mr Morley and Colonel Shankshaft,” she said gloomily. “I knew that snow was in the air but I really didn’t think we’d have so much overnight. No carriage will venture into this.”

“You sound as if Mr Morley and Colonel Shankshaft, on their own, will fail to bring life to the party?” her husband remarked, smiling up from reading his newspaper in a wingback leather chair in the green drawing room.

“Yes, but the colonel’s dubious wit will dominate if it’s a party of only six sitting down to dinner. You and me, Antoinette and Quamby. And our two guests. No other ladies.” Fanny hesitated before putting her greatest worry into words. “And you know that neither the Colonel nor Mr Morley are the type to get Antoinette excited about being a good hostess…if you know what I mean.”

Fenton put down his news sheet to consider the matter. He was averyconsiderate husband in this regard. He always considered Fanny’s feelings and was quite a master at raising spirits. If Antoinette was having a fit of the dismals, Fentoncould be relied upon to bolster her—mostly. Though sometimes it was likely to send her into an indignant flutter. Antoinette’s rather flighty nature—and her reliance on male attention which was going to be sparse for this weekend house party if her latest paramour did not make it through the snowdrifts that had doubled in size since last night made for a rather perilous few days ahead.

“But Mr Morley is a very handsome, unshackled gentleman. Your sister can flirt with him.”

“No, no, much too serious,” said Fanny with another sigh. “He won’t say things to flatter her that will put her in a good mood. And Quamby’s praises won’t be enough if her Antonio isn’t here.”

“Antonio? That’s the name of her latest, is it?” Fenton raised his brows. “From the theatre? They usually are.”

Fanny’s sister, Antoinette, was only happy when she was being feted by one of what had turned out to be a string of lovers over the years. She’d produced the Quamby heir, much to her husband, the earl’s satisfaction. And with the young earl in waiting, George, in good health, both parents felt that their affection for one another was best displayed by allowing the other the latitude to indulge in whatever amours they chose.

“Oh Fanny! Fenton! You’ll never believe what’s happened! Truly, I can’t believe it! Quite miraculous, in fact.” In a cloud of pale pink silk, Antoinette burst into the room, blonde curls flying behind her. For the first time in two days, she didn’t look like she was in the deepest mourning.

“Your Antonio has dug himself through the snow and is happily ensconced at Quamby House?” Fanny surmised. “I can’t see you being so joyful over anything less.”

“Oh, but I am, and it is not that!” Antoinette clapped her hands together before running to the window and pointing. “See! There! A carriage at the end of the drive on its way tosomewhere that wasn’t here. And see, it can’t get through the snow. It is quite, quite stuck.”

“So, we have a captive to add to our little weekend party,” said Fenton. “He must be very handsome,” he surmised, smiling at Antoinette’s girlish excitement.

“You’re quite wrong, Fenton. It’s a female! A female who is nearly as lovely as I am, as the gossip sheets once described her. But you’ll never guess who?”

“Then why don’t you put us out of our misery and tell us,Antoinette?” said Fanny, tiring of her sister’s never-ending love of keeping everyone in suspense.

“It’s Lady Lushington!” Now Antoinette really did clap her hands in excitement as she saw the dawning realisation on each of their faces, adding, “Yes, the formerMiss Beecham who was to have married our guest, Mr Morley five years ago except that she married Lord Lushington instead and now she’s a widow and… oh, don’t you see, Fanny! This is going to be the most marvellous opportunity to do what we do best.”

“And what might that be?” Fanny asked dubiously, though she knew the answer, which Antoinette was quick to supply. “Matchmaking, of course! Why, I am sure that Mr Morley’s serious manner stems from a broken heart and that when Lady Lushington walks through that door, he is going to be in transports to find that his one true love has finally returned. And no longer encumbered by a husband.” She smiled between Fanny and Fenton—whom Fanny could see did not share Antoinette’s confidence that such a scenario was sure to come to pass.

“If the former Miss Beecham and Mr Morley parted ways five years ago, then it was for a reason,” said Fanny firmly. “I don’t think it’s either wise or fair to try to push them together again.”

“Oh, but I’m sure you’re wrong!” cried Antoinette. “Misunderstandings happen all the time, and clearly Mr Morley and Lady Lushington didn’t resolve their differences with the right kind of … mediator.”

Fanny returned her gaze to the snow, where she could now see a young woman in a blue, fur-lined cloak, trudging through the white drifts, her bonneted head cast down. In her wake was another young lady of smaller stature, less finely dressed. Either a maid or companion, Fanny supposed, as she called to one of the footmen to go outside and assist their new guest.

She cast her mind back to try to remember the scandal all those years ago but could not. One minute Mr Morley and Miss Beecham were the toast of the season, making not only a love match but bringing two great fortunes together… and the next, the engagement was broken.

“Poor Mr Morley! You remember how heartbroken he was? Surely you do, Fanny? At Lady Brinkworth’s ball we both remarked on how handsome he was when he smiled, which he did not stop doing as he squired his lady love about the ballroom.” Antoinette frowned as if she couldn’t believe Fanny had forgotten. “And then at Lady Marchment’s soiree, he was grim faced and barely exchanged a civil word with anyone, and we all thought it was because his betrothed must be ill and he was worried.”

Fanny shook her head. “If you recall, my own Katherine was very ill, and I could barely think of anything else but my child,” said Fanny. “Well, I hope?—”

But her hopes were truncated by the parlourmaid opening the drawing-room door to announce, “Lady Lushington, ma’am.”

Fanny raised an eyebrow, saying quickly under her breath to her sister, “And, pray tell, where is Mr Morley at this moment? I do think he might want a little warning.”

“Oh, it’ll be the most marvellous surprise to him! For he must surely know she’s a widow and therefore can be his again,” Antoinette whispered back before the door was opened fully and a very pretty young woman, whom Fanny knew to be about five and twenty, was shown in.

Although she’d been divested of her outerwear, the hem of her skirts, and her footwear, bore indications of her journey through the icy drifts, while her light brown hair had lost its curl and been tucked behind her ears making her look much younger than her age.

“Ladies Fenton. Quamby. I do apologize for arriving unannounced, but?—”