“So, you did not know that it was widely thought that Christopher Lennox had been courting Emmeline Fitzgerald?”
“I did not. Although I gathered it very quickly. As soon as the announcement was made, there were several hurried and whispered conversations going on all around me, and I overheard a little something of it all.”
“Are you not, then, at all acquainted with Miss Fitzgerald?”
“Only a little. She is only the vaguest of acquaintances and nothing more.”
“Really, I am not greatly acquainted with her either, but I knew a little something of her circumstances.” Algernon slowed his horse to a stop and turned to look at his cousin. “Do you never pay any attention whatsoever to what goes on around you?”
“If you mean do I press my nose into the business of others, then no,” Hunter said a little imperiously, and Algernon laughed.
“Those are very fine words, cousin, but they are a cover-up. You do not involve yourself enough in the world, even enough to know a little of the lives of others. If you are to find yourself a wife in short order, I think you really ought to reconsider your approach.”
“How very amusing you are, Algernon.” Hunter smiled indulgently. “But I already know as much as I need to know, so there is no real need for me to involve myself in the lives of too many others, at any rate.”
“So, you discovered that the poor young woman had imagined herself to have been the lady that Christopher Lennox would finally become engaged to. Quite dreadful, really, because I am told that the young lady to whom Lennox finally did make an offer to was a very good friend of Miss Fitzgerald. Dreadful behaviour, truly rotten.”
“I am inclined to agree. Clara Lovett, I believe her name is. Not, of course that she is in any way important in all of this.” Hunter set his horse to walk again, leaving Algernon behind for a moment or two.
“In all of what?” Algernon said when he caught up.
“I have decided to ask Emmeline Fitzgerald to marry me.”
“Good heavens.”
“I thought that might surprise you. But really, if you think the whole thing through, it makes perfect sense. At least it does if you know a little something of the lady’s circumstances.”
“Her circumstances? There are other circumstances to be told?” Algernon said, his face a picture of intrigue. “What circumstances?”
“You are aware, of course, that her father passed away some three months ago?”
“Yes, I attended the funeral. I did not know Charles Fitzgerald particularly well, but what I did know of him I found I liked, and I was sorry to hear that he had passed away while still relatively young.”
“But were you aware that his wife and daughters do not have long to remain at Tarlton Manor before it is inhabited by the man who stands to inherit it by the end of nine months following Charles Fitzgerald’s death?”
“No, I had heard nothing of that,” Algernon said. “I suppose that sort of property transfer is awfully rough on women, is it not? Still, it is not uncommon, and I am not surprised by it, I must say.”
“Well, I have gathered that there are but six months left for the three women who live on that small estate before they have to find accommodation elsewhere.”
“But do they not have other family?”
“Apart from the cousin who stands to inherit, and his immediate family, no.”
“Do you not think that the cousin might allow them to stay?” Algernon said and pulled a face. “Really, I am sure it is big enough,” he went on.
“I suppose it is big enough now whilst the cousin is an unmarried man. But once he finds himself a wife and begins to produce a family, the estate might not seem quite big enough.”
“Oh dear,” Algernon said as if he had just thought something. “And I suppose Miss Fitzgerald, thinking that she was to be married soon to Christopher Lennox, thought her family quite safe. After all, the Lennox family is certainly wealthy enough to have decided upon a settlement of some sort so that the mother and sister were well provided for.”
“Yes, it must really have come as a double disappointment for her.”
“If Miss Fitzgerald was in love with Christopher Lennox in the first place, that is.” Algernon shrugged.
“I think it is very safe to assume that the young lady was very much in love with him,” Hunter said a little sadly as he remembered her brave attempt at dignity throughout the rest of that evening.
Within seconds of Tristan Lennox’s announcement that his son was to marry Clara Lovett, Hunter realized that something was wrong. At first, he thought it was simply his own low mood. Not that he begrudged anybody their happiness, but having recently been betrayed as he had been, he was in no mood to celebrate young love.
Still, he quickly realized that it was not just on account of his own low mood that things felt somewhat out of kilter. Two ladies standing just a few feet from him began a hurried and whispered conversation, and he quickly learned a few of the most pertinent circumstances. Namely that Christopher Lennox had been widely thought to be courting Emmeline Fitzgerald.
Following the gaze of the two ladies, Hunter looked across the room to where Emmeline Fitzgerald stood with her sister. As he looked, he realized with discomfort that most of the people in the room were looking over at her as she wore a fixed, frozen smile of congratulations. There was nothing else for the young woman to do but keep her eyes fixed on the man whom she had clearly thought would one day be her own father-in-law. To do any other would be to meet the gaze of so many enquiring eyes.
For all he had been betrayed himself, at least his betrayal had not happened right in front of him and so very publicly. Hunter knew, albeit that he hurt very badly indeed, that he had that much to be thankful for at least.
And whilst he did not want to be one of a number of enquiring people continuing to stare at her, waiting for her reaction, he could not seem to look away. But instead of being inquisitive, instead of eagerly awaiting some sort of breakdown, he wanted to silently support the young woman. He wanted to tell her with his eyes that he knew how she felt at that moment, and that she was not alone. But of course, they were so barely acquainted that he could not even sensibly make his way across the room to join her. Especially not when everybody was gazing in her direction. In the end, he knew that such support would add to her problems, not solve them.