Fenella Miller - A Country Mouse

The Earl chuckled and his harsh features softened. “Here, my boy, read this.” He waved a much crumpled piece of paper in front of Sebastian who reached over and took it. He read the missive with growing astonishment. His finally arched eyebrows disappeared under his fashionably cropped hair. His voice dripped with disdain.

“Emily Gibson, my lord, is outrageous. To offer herself up for sale in this manner shows a lack of refinement and breeding I could not countenance in a wife of mine.”

“How dare you insult my granddaughter, Yardley. I will not have a word said against Emily.” The Earl glared at his great-grandson until the younger man flushed and looked away. Sebastian did not offer an apology. “It is my fault, you see; I blamed her mother for my wife's death. The child wrote to me two years ago begging for my assistance when her father died but I ignored her appeal.” The old man openly wiped his eyes. “I am head of the family; it is my job to take care of them. I have been very remiss not to have done so before. I want to be reconciled with my daughter, Althea, before I meet my maker.”

Sebastian snorted. “Well and good, sir. You can do that without involving me in your plans, can you not?”

“I am four and eighty, my boy, and however robust I appear, I can not have long left on this earth. You wish to find a wife, my granddaughter wishes to find a husband, what better arrangement could there be?”

“I could select a wife for myself.”

“When do you have the opportunity? You are not part of the fashionable set, you do not attend Almack's, or debutante balls, how are you going to meet someone more suitable, tell me that?”

Sebastian shook his head in frustration. He could feel himself being pushed into a corner. Then unexpectedly he smiled. “Very well, my lord. I will agree to meet this young woman, but if she is not to my liking, I reserve the right to refuse. Is that acceptable?”

The Earl of Westerham smiled back. “Excellent! I am sure Emily will be a lovely girl; her mother was a diamond of the first water at her age. She is certainly resourceful and intelligent. Her letters to me are proof of that at least.”

“When do you wish me to return to inspect the girl?”

“I intend to send my carriage for them today; it is to be hoped they would be here by the end of the week. There are two younger girls as well. It will be wonderful to hear the sound of children about this huge empty place once more.”

Sebastian shuddered. He had three unknown country cousins to contend with? What a lowering thought; if he decided to marry the eldest, Emily, he supposed he would be expected to provide for the other two as well. He had no dealings with children and desired to keep it that way for as long as possible.

“I must return to town, sir. I am wanted in Cabinet. I will endeavour to visit Westerham sometime next week.”

The two men, so alike in both appearance and personality that they constantly clashed, parted, for once, on amicable terms. Two hours after Viscount Yardley's departure an enormous crested travelling carriage, complete with coachman, groom and two postilions, lumbered out, followed by an empty baggage cart and two armed outriders. No one with any sense risked the roads without adequate protection from highway men and footpads.

From her hidden position at the study window Emily watched the impressive carriage trundle up their rutted drive, her heart pounding with apprehension. Her grandfather had responded to her letter in a way she had not anticipated.

She heard pounding, childish footsteps approaching down the corridor. The study door burst open and Millie and Serena erupted into the room. “Em come and see. There's a huge crested coach coming down the drive. Whoever can it be? Do we know anyone like that?”

Emily swallowed. “Yes, my love, we do. Don't you remember that our grandfather is the Earl of Westerham? That is why mother is known as Lady Althea Gibson, not Mrs Gibson.”

“But Mama does not speak to him. How can he be here?” Millie's voice was shrill.

“Calm yourself, Amelia, and I'll explain.” Emily waited for her sisters to be quiet. “I wrote to grandfather explaining that Mama was unwell and asked him if he could help in any way.” Never would she admit to her sisters, or her mother, the true contents of her letter.

“And he has come himself? Do you think he's in the coach?” Serena piped.

“No, darling, I'm sure he is not. He must be well over eighty now. I'm certain he would never travel so far.”

“Then who is it? Why's the coach coming here?”

“Amelia, don't be so impatient. I have no more idea than you do. Now run along and tell Edwards; she will wish to prepare Mama.” She took Serena's hand. “You stay with me; we will go and wait in the morning room together.”

Scarcely ten minutes later a loud knocking was heard on the front door. The one remaining maid-servant, Sally, hurried to answer the summons. Outside stood an impressive array of people. A black garbed gentleman headed the queue.

“Is Lady Althea Gibson, at home?”

The girl dropped a nervous curtsy. “Yes, sir, that she is. Will you come in, please? Who will I tell her is waiting?”

“Mr Foster, the Earl of Westerham's man of business. I have a letter for Miss Emily Gibson and one for Lady Althea. Deliver them for me please.”

“Please to wait in the ante-room, sir. I will take the letters directly.” The frightened girl left Mr Foster in the small room next to the entrance hall. She hesitated, not sure if the waiting grooms and outriders should be directed elsewhere.

“My staff will wait outside.”

"Yes, Mr Foster, sir, thank you.” The girl hastily closed the door and scuttled across the shabby hall to find Miss Emily. She knew Lady Althea was asleep in her bed, even though it was past noon.

“I have two letters here, Miss Emily.”

“Thank you, I shall take them both. Could you take in some refreshment for our visitor?”

With shaking hands she broke the impressive seal and unfolded the letter. Her youngest sister watched anxiously as the colour drained from Emily's face.

“What is it, Em, is it bad news? Has our grandfather died?”

Emily pulled herself together sufficiently to answer. “No, darling. It's very good news indeed. Grandfather has invited us all to live with him at Westerham. He is to take care of us in future. Is that not splendid news?” 

Serena wondered why such good news had caused her elder sister to look so frightened. “Don't you wish to go, Em?”

“Yes, of course, I do. It's a shock; but a welcome one.” She bent down to hug her sister. “It has been such a worry, trying to keep us solvent on so little money. When I wrote to the Earl I had no idea he would respond so quickly. That's why I was unnerved for a moment, nothing more, I do assure you, sweetheart.”

“Shall I run and tell Mama? She was always used to talk about Westerham and what a great house it was, when Papa was alive. She will be pleased to return, won't she?”

“I'm sure she will. But don't go upstairs to tell her; I will come along directly I have spoken to Mr Foster. She was still asleep a little while ago. It will take time for Edwards to get her organized. We don't wish to make her even more unwell do we, Serena?”

The little girl solemnly shook her head, her dark braids flying. “Can I tell Millie though?”

Emily gave her consent and the child ran off, eager to share the amazing news with someone. Mr Foster stood up as Emily entered. He bowed.

“I am delighted to meet you, Miss Gibson.” He didn't offer his hand and Emily did not curtsy, she merely nodded politely. She might be as poor as a country mouse but she knew how to behave.

“I have read my letter, Mr Foster. It will take us a few days to get ready for a move to Westerham.”

“Of course it will, Miss Gibson. I have arranged to put up at the Bull, in the next village. I will leave a groom here, if that's acceptable. Please send word with him when you're ready to depart.”

Emily agreed she would do that. An extra pair of strong male hands would be a boon moving trunks and belongings down to the hall. Glebe House no longer had male indoor servants. She had had to let them go when her father passed away.

She picked up her skirts and ran lightly upstairs, the letter for her mother in her other hand. The one addressed to herself was burning a hole in her pocket. She felt her colour rise as she remembered its contents. The Earl had offered the Gibson family his protection and wished for them to come and live with him at Westerham. He had also agreed to find her a suitable husband but suggested that it would meet with his wholehearted approval if she agreed to marry his great-grandson, his heir, her second cousin, Sebastian Edward Lessing, Viscount Yardley.

She knew little of the man, apart from he was four and twenty years old and already a respected diplomat. She also knew that he lived in London, so must suppose he was a member of the ton, a Corinthian, and a man of taste and wealth. After all he had been living on his expectations for years as both his father, and grandfather, had predeceased the Earl of Westerham.

She smiled ruefully at her faded grey gown, twice made over, and sadly in need of renewal. Whatever would a fashionable man about town see in such a country mouse as she?

She stopped dead, clutching the banister for support as an appalling thought occurred to her. What if her cousin found her not to his taste and refused to marry her? Would they all be sent packing? Be returned to live in Glebe House? Fervently she prayed, as she stood frozen halfway up the stairs. “Oh God, please do not let him refuse me. It would kill Mama if she was to be restored to her family home and then rejected for a second time.” She felt a chill run down her spine at another unwelcome thought.