Page 9 of The Incident at Ingleton (Beau Monde Secrets #3)
T he worst thing about Mr. Haworth’s warning was that Hester suspected he’d told her nothing but the truth. In the coming days, Mr. Butler continued to show signs that he might be trying to fix his interest with Hester. He dropped in at the vicarage daily, ostensibly to check up on Rose’s health. But he always spent more time talking to Hester than he did Rose.
The thirteenth of June was Hester’s birthday, and Lord and Lady Inglewhite planned a party to celebrate. Hester initially assumed that this would merely mean dining at the castle, but she soon learned that they had hired a few local musicians so the young people could have a dance after dinner.
When Hester protested that she didn’t need so grand a celebration just because she was turning twenty, Lady Inglewhite dismissed her objections. “Since we have a ballroom, we might as well put it to use! What’s the point in having a room dedicated to dancing if no one ever dances?”
Hester could hardly argue with that. She did not particularly want to argue, anyway. After weeks of country life, she looked forward to a chance to don a ball gown and show off her pearls.
On the thirteenth of June, Hester came back from her afternoon walk to find a bouquet of pink and white roses waiting for her. She picked up the bouquet and sniffed, enjoying the rich floral scent.
But when she opened up the folded scrap of notepaper, she saw that the flowers were from Mr. Butler. That didn’t exactly surprise her, but it did disappoint her. She would rather not even think about her unwanted suitor on today of all days. She’d hoped the flowers had been ordered by someone in her family—her mother, maybe. It would have been nice to have some indication that her parents thought about her on the anniversary of her birth. Instead, she hadn’t even received a letter from them.
She sighed, then brought the flowers into the parlor to show Rose.
“Oh dear,” Rose said. “It’s a lovely bouquet, but you don’t look at all happy about it.”
Hester nodded grimly. “Unfortunately, I do not return Mr. Butler’s affections,” she admitted. “If he declares himself, I will reject him.”
She didn’t know when she’d come to that decision, but she felt confident about it. Hester’s frequent megrims sometimes made socializing difficult, which in turn made it hard to attract a suitor. That was part of why her first season in London had been unsuccessful: she’d often had to cancel invitations to drive in Hyde Park or attend the theater with a gentleman. Even so, that didn’t mean Hester needed to marry the first honorable man who proposed to her.
Mr. Butler’s mercenary motives weren’t even her primary objection to him. Even if Mr. Haworth were wrong about Mr. Butler having his eye on the Bracknell family livings, Hester would not have accepted him. Over the last two weeks, Hester had seen enough of Mr. Butler to realize that though he was an attractive and gallant suitor, she did not want to spend the rest of her life with him. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to spend an hour alone with him. His compliments and courtesies had begun to ring hollow, as had the platitudes he enjoyed repeating.
Selfishly, Hester hoped Mr. Butler would not attend tonight’s birthday celebration at Selwyn Castle. If he asked her to dance, she would have no reason to refuse. Under other circumstances, she would not at all have minded standing up with him for the duration of a country dance. Now, she feared that dancing with the curate would only encourage his courtship.
Still, she looked forward to the party. It gave her an excuse to don her newest ball gown, which consisted of a pink satin underdress and an overdress of white gauze, embroidered at the sleeves, hem, and neckline with a darker pink. It had been made in the latest mode, so it had the highest waist and tiniest bodice of any dress she’d ever worn. Rose arranged Hester’s hair, piling it on top of her head and encircling it with a bandeau that matched the embroidery on her gown.
“They say turbans are all the rage this year,” Rose commented. “Is that true?”
Hester made a face. “Yes, but I don’t like turbans. I refuse to wear one. I think this looks well enough.” She studied herself in the mirror, wondering if she’d made a mistake. “Doesn’t it?” she asked anxiously.
“Of course, it looks well enough,” Rose assured her. “You look lovely tonight.” She startled Hester by pressing a light kiss against her cheek. “Now, go break the hearts of all the young gentlemen in a ten-mile radius.”
Hester had to laugh at that suggestion. “I wish you could come with us.”
But Rose shook her head firmly. “Even if my doctor were in favor of it, I wouldn’t want to go. I would feel tired and miserable and want to go home. It would end with me dragging you and Frank away from the party early. And we can’t have that, can we? You two will enjoy yourselves more without me there.”
Hester wasn’t sure about that, but she still climbed into the carriage with a light heart. Normally, the Bracknell family walked back and forth between the vicarage and the castle, but both the late hour and the delicacy of Hester’s dancing slippers made that inadvisable. Once again, the earl and the countess had sent a carriage down to the vicarage. Hester rode in luxury to the castle, and felt like a princess when the groom helped her step down from the carriage.
There was, of course, no red carpet spread from the front door to the carriage sweep, as there might have been at a London townhouse. Even so, Hester felt proud to walk into the Great Hall of the castle on Frank’s arm. Was there another gentleman half so distinguished as her brother? Maybe the Earl of Inglewhite, but he was so much older than Frank that he hardly counted.
For the first half hour, Hester thoroughly enjoyed herself. She’d already met most of the guests. Others were introduced to her, including a handful of young ladies close to her in age.
These young ladies studied Hester from head to toe. She suspected they were taking in all the details of her London fashions. None of them seemed to be dressed in the latest modes favored by the haute ton . Nor did Hester have any idea about what to say to them. She did not know enough about local society to know what questions to ask, nor did she have any interesting gossip of her own to share.
Then one of the Miss Andersons (Hester could not remember her given name) broke the awkward silence by asking if it was true that turbans were in style in London.
Hester grimaced. “Yes, but I’ve always thought they look ridiculous. My mother wanted me to wear one, but I refused.”
“I think they are better suited to older women, anyway,” confided the other Miss Anderson. “I would like to wear a tiara someday, though.”
“The only time I have worn a tiara was when I was presented at Court,” Hester admitted. “My mother thinks they are too flashy for an unmarried woman.”
“That sounds like the sort of thing my mother would say, too,” Miss Anderson replied.
The mournfulness in her voice reminded Hester of the way Julia complained about maternal edicts. The corner of her mouth twitched as she suppressed a smile. After that, conversation was easy, and the young ladies chattered happily together until the orchestra struck up the tune for a country dance.
Because the party was being held to celebrate Hester’s birthday, Lord Inglewhite himself stood up with her in the first set. Though he was no taller than Hester, the earl wore an air of gravity that gave him an intimidating presence—at least, until he smiled at her. Then his whole face softened, making him look much more approachable.
The rest of the party went smoothly. Lord and Lady Inglewhite did not keep Town hours, of course, so the party broke up for supper at nine. That was when the trouble began. Mr. Butler had arrived late, so Hester had managed to avoid him for the first half of the evening, but he claimed the first set after supper.
After their set ended, he peered down at Hester and shook his head. “You look flushed, my dear. Do you need to step out of the room for a breath of fresh air?”
Hester frowned. “I thank you, no.” She darted her eyes around the room, looking for some means of escape. “If you would be so kind as to fetch me a glass of lemonade, that ought to cool me.”
To her relief, he hurried away to get the drink. By the time he returned, she was already dancing with young Mr. Anderson, who was home from Cambridge on the Long Vacation. She felt relieved to have escaped the curate’s unwanted attentions.
But Mr. Butler merely bided his time. As soon as her set with Mr. Anderson concluded, Mr. Butler approached with her lemonade. Hester forced a cool smile to her face, trying to act as if she’d forgotten all about her desire for a drink.
All of her composure shattered in an instant when the drink tipped over in his hand, splashing the front of her dress. She gasped and stared down in shock. How had that happened?
Mr. Butler gasped. “I am so very clumsy! Please, let me escort you to the lady’s retiring room.” He sounded so appropriately dismayed that Hester abandoned her fleeting suspicion that he might have spilled the drink on purpose.
Because she couldn’t remember where the lady’s retiring room was, Hester had no choice but to follow Mr. Butler out of the ballroom. There could be no impropriety involved, she told herself, since it wasn’t as if Mr. Butler would actually enter the room with her. And anyway, there’d be an attendant in the retiring room.
They walked down the corridor until he opened a door and gestured for her to walk in.
She stepped into the room and looked around for the supplies typically provided for the use of ladies who needed to mend a torn hem or adjust a damaged coiffure. None of the usual accouterments of a retiring room were visible. She saw only a few pieces of furniture covered with drop-clothes, some half-empty bookshelves along the walls, and a slate board that gave away the purpose of the room.
“This isn’t the retiring room,” she said. “This is a school room.” What a strange mistake for Mr. Butler to make!
“Yes, but here we can be sure of no interruptions,” Mr. Butler explained. “That makes it ideal.”
He shut the door, then leaned against it, effectively blocking the way out. They were alone in a room: a compromising situation if ever she saw one. Hester took a cautious step backward and cast her eyes around the room, looking for an escape route. But there was nowhere for her to go. Mr. Butler still barred the only exit. He crossed his arms and casually leaned one foot back, looking for all the world as if he were settling in for a lengthy conversation.
“What are you doing?” The waver in Hester’s voice dismayed her. She could do better than that! Before her captor could answer her, she tried again. “I must insist that you stand aside so I can leave the room.” That sounded more confident!
“By and by,” he promised. “I will not detain you for long, but I wish to speak to you.”
“You can have nothing to say to me, sir. I am not interested in any proposals you might wish to make.” Hester did not even try to keep the anger out of her voice. She had every right to be angry, after the way he had tricked her into being alone with him.
“Oh, I think I have something to say, my lady.” One side of his mouth curved up in a predatory half-smile. “You may not be interested in my proposals now, but it’s only a matter of time before someone comes looking for you. When they find you alone in here with me, you’ll look at my offer in quite a different light.”
Hester’s eyes widened, and her hands began to tremble. “You are trying to force my hand by deliberately compromising me? That is despicable .”
Mr. Butler arched his eyebrows. “Compromising you will not be necessary if you’ll listen to reason, my lady. You have a good deal to gain from an alliance with me.”
Oh, really? Unable to think of words sufficiently venomous for this situation, Hester sneered at her captor. He smirked in return, and drew a deep breath, as if preparing to lecture her. Before he could speak, though, someone rattled the doorknob from outside the room.
“I say. Is everything all right in there?” Muffled by the door, the voice was unidentifiable, but Hester knew one thing: she and her would-be bridegroom were no longer alone.