Page 21 of His Bluestocking Bride

“Mr. Bringhurst, have you objections to my engagement to your daughter? If so, I would like to know. You are keeping me in some suspense.” He tapped the arm of the chair, impatient with the man and his strange vision for Ellen’s future.

The father stood and paced to the window and back, shaking his head all the while. “I cannot think of a good reason to deny you. I should like to talk to Ellen in person, to be certain of her mind. I give my blessing, contingent on hearing from her this is what she wishes. Reginald, go back with Mr. Calvert as my envoy. Send word on what you find your sister’s state of mind to be. If she is well, then we will proceed.”

Marcus stood. “Then we must go at once. Have you fresh horses? I would like mine to rest.”

Reginald looked surprised. “But you just arrived.”

“I know. I would like the banns to be read as soon as possible, in both our parishes as custom dictates. I wish to marry before Parliament convenes.”

“A man who knows his own mind. I suppose that is something.” Mr. Bringhurst nodded. “Yes, yes. Take our horses. I will dispatch a letter to Ellen’s mother to apprise her of the situation. Please, take some refreshment while Reginald prepares for the journey. Quick, boy. Mustn’t keep a prospective groom waiting.” He sighed deeply and shook his head again. “Very strange business, but nothing should surprise me anymore. Four daughters, married. That will be a feather in Mrs. Bringhurst’s cap.”

“Indeed.” Marcus settled back into his seat. Mr. Bringhurst said little else.

Marcus’s body might not thank him for the long hours on horseback, but he would happily travel twice the distance to ensure his future with Ellen and Orchard Hill.

Chapter Nine

The week following Marcus’s return with Reginald in tow kept couriers and the postal coach busy travelling between Ellen and her family. Her mother wrote to her, a short missive.

Your sister’s time has not arrived yet, and I do not think it will for a fortnight. If such is the case, I may not be able to attend your wedding. I do not understand Mr. Calvert’s haste, but he must have his reasons. You will do well as his wife and will be a credit to the family. I give you my blessing. Be happy, Ellen.

Ellen’s heart fell as she read it, though she recognized her mother’s difficult position. A wedding could be gotten through without much anxiety but the same could not be said for childbirth.

Her father would give her away. And Reginald, and her elder sisters, would be present.

They had yet to leave for Oak Lodge, though Marcus had delivered Reginald and left the next day to see to the business of their marriage. He would make certain the banns were posted and read, begin work on the legal documents, and see to it Orchard Hill would be ready for him to take possession.

Ellen would have left for home and her own preparations, but Marcus’s mother had announced her intention to call upon Ellen at the Falkham home. Which made sense. Her father was not able to entertain nobility in their house without his wife present, but Collin and Marianne had room and were delighted to host a dowager countess.

Marcus took the time to inform Ellen of that visit before he left to see his steward and solicitor to draw up contracts, the bridal agreement, and check into his affairs to arrange matters before they appeared before the vicar.

Ellen felt more upside-down than anything. Her only comfort was being with Marianne and Reginald as one letter after another arrived and preparations were made for her future mother-in-law to arrive. Marcus’s brother sent his congratulations and accepted her invitation to attend the wedding.

Lady Calvert, of course, knew full well why Marcus and Ellen rushed to be wed. She had tightened the purse strings and threatened him into matrimony. The woman might, however, take one look at Ellen and retract the conditions or change them if she found Marcus’s choice undesirable.

Ellen didn’t think Lady Calvert to be especially cruel or underhanded, as all her memories of the woman were pleasant. But the irrational idea that she would be rejected at once took hold. It took Reginald’s cheery disposition and Marianne’s kind words to keep her from pacing from morning to night.

The carriage bearing the Earl of Annesbury’s crest arrived on December the tenth, two days after the banns had been read. Alerted by the staff, Ellen, Marianne, Collin, and Reginald all waited on the steps for the stately dowager countess to descend from her vehicle and pass judgment upon the prospective bride.

Marianne subtly squeezed Ellen’s hand as they stood, watching the Countess emerge wearing a dark purple traveling suit, complete with a hat festooned in black feathers. The woman descended regally and looked up at them with a surprisingly pleasant countenance.

Collin bowed deeply, with Reginald following suit while the women curtsied. “Welcome, Lady Calvert,” he said formally. “Please, allow me—"

“Oh, enough, Collin,” she interrupted, making a shooing motion with her hand. “Let us all get inside before we catch our death. I declare, it is much colder here than ever it was in London. Inside we can have a proper discussion.” She swept past all of them.

The welcoming party hurried inside to find the dowager countess divested of her coat and gloves.

“It is not sensible to stay out on the stoop in December. Young people of good health never understand such things. Now. Let me look at you, Miss Bringhurst.” She folded her hands before her and lifted her chin, not to be put off for even a moment.

Ellen stepped forward, her nerves making her hands shake. She dropped a curtsy and murmured her greeting softly. “I hope your journey was pleasant, Lady Calvert.”

“Of course, dear. Good weather made it acceptable.” Her ladyship tilted her head to one side, looking Ellen over head to toe. “I must say, you have blossomed into a lovely young woman. Lady Falkham, Miss Bringhurst and I have the need of your parlor.”

Marianne looked startled but nodded. “Of course. Shall I have tea sent in?”

“That will be satisfactory,” the matron said with a smart nod. “Come, Miss Bringhurst, if you will.” She gestured for Ellen to walk beside her, which Ellen hastily moved to do. Though she tried to stop trembling, her anxiety must have been evident, as the dowager reached out to touch her arm as they moved down the hallway. “Do not worry so, dear. I am merely curious, and anxious, to know who my son chose for his bride. I am not willing to go through another hour or more of niceties when you and I could be well on our way to coming to know one another.”

Ellen looked askance at the woman. “I suppose that is practical.”