Authors: Lillian; Shelley
Secret Heiress
Lillian Shelley
To Dorothy Provenzano for her friendship
and to Jeannette Ghaney for her helpful suggestions
and unfailing patience.
A special thanks to Alfred Koppel for
first throwing down the gauntlet.
Caroline Chessington regarded herself in the looking glass.
“No,” she said aloud. “Mr. Farrowby quite overstated the case.”
Mr. Farrowby, in making his offer to Miss Chessington, had indeed called her a goddess. Miss Chessington, however, was painfully aware that an heiress with £50,000 a year was often subject to such fulsome compliments. She was, moreover, an honest young woman, and she knew herself to be no more than passably good-looking.
It would be nice, she thought, to have a gentleman say to me, I am aware, Miss Chessington, that you are too tall, that your nose is a trifle long, and that your hair is mousy brown. Yet still I desire to marry you because I stand in desperate need of your fortune. At least then he would be honest. Miss Chessington smiled faintly. In fact, Caroline did herself an injustice. Although somewhat taller than fashion decreed, her figure was lithe and well formed. She carried herself with the easy assurance that came of centuries of privilege. The hair she dismissed as mousy brown was in reality a soft chestnut brown. And though her nose could have been a trifle shorter, her wide, intelligent brown eyes, under well-shaped brows, more than made up for this slight defect. Her generally serious demeanor was lightened by a lively wit and a charming smile. No, Caroline Chessington was hardly an antidote.
An only child, born late in the lives of an extremely wealthy baronet and his lady, both now deceased, Caroline Chessington had inherited a large fortune. She lived in Lancashire in the family home, Brampton Hall, with an elderly cousin and the nurse and servants who had been with her since childhood. Her parents had led a quiet life, preferring to remain in the country the year round. Their illness and age had prevented her going to London for her first Season, and somehow, for one reason or another, Caroline had never gone. Now, at twenty-seven, she rarely left her own district, save for a journey in the summer to the seaside at Morecambe.
While many young women might have considered such a life little more than a prison sentence, it suited Miss Chessington very well. She enjoyed being mistress of the household, and took an active interest in the management of her considerable estate. Brampton had always been a working farm. Caroline had become interested in the new agricultural methods that were gaining acceptance in England, and she was engaged in a lengthy, continuing correspondence with Mr. Coke of Holkham and Arthur Young, who had been Secretary of Agriculture. Initial reactions of surprise at her interest were followed by letters of encouragement and suggestions. Mr. Young, indeed, regretted that his great age prevented him from traveling to Brampton to meet Caroline.
Moreover, Caroline loved the Hall itself and its extensive gardens. Brampton Hall was one of the oldest houses in the neighborhood; records kept in the muniment room showed references to the manor in the Domesday Book and in other historical documents. The main building was a particularly fine example of a Tudor half-timbered manor house in the style common to Lancashire and was well known for its rich linenfold paneling and plaster work. Subsequent centuries had seen many changes as succeeding heirs had added what was currently fashionable. The mixture of architectural styles was one of the reasons that the building held such charm for Caroline. One of her great pleasures was to walk the length of the gallery where the ancestral portraits were hung. Her sense of family pride was heightened by looking at the portraits of past generations of Chessingtons dressed in the various costumes of previous times.
Caroline never lacked for social activity, either. She visited regularly with neighbors and had several close friends and acquaintances among the local gentry. Brampton, the market village for the area, hosted a monthly Assembly. Caroline, an acknowledged leader in the district, enjoyed
the balls for the dancing. If the same company, known from childhood, was sometimes a trifle flat, it had the comfortable feeling of the familiar. Any feelings of restiveness or discontent were shrugged off with the practical notion of how much there was to occupy her at Brampton.
Nor had Caroline lacked suitors, though it had not taken her long to realize that few of the gentlemen who sought her out would have had the least interest in her if she were separated from her money. That knowledge had made her wary of meeting new people; she preferred to trust those friends who she knew valued her. Her cousin, Aurelia, had often remonstrated at the ordered life she led, suggesting to Caroline that she go to London.
“For you know, my love,” she would say, “that I am not thinking of myself. No indeed. If I had my choice, I should never leave our own delightful, snug home! But youâsurely you must long for a sight of London. To go to parties and Assemblies! To dance at Almack's! And,” she would continue in the arch manner which she affected, “to meet so many more eligible young gentlemen than you can meet here. Surely you must wish for that.”
No, thought Caroline. She certainly did not wish to go to London. As soon as it became known that she was in possession of a large fortune, every gazetted fortune hunter in London would be at her door. In London there were probably dozens of Mr. Farrowbys.
There was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” said Caroline. It was Sarah, her personal maid.
“Miss Caroline, Preston says to tell you that Lady Skipton and Miss Skipton have come to call. He's put them in the morning room.”
“Thank you, Sarah,” said Caroline. “Please tell Preston I shall be there directly and ask him to bring Lady Skipton and Miss Skipton some refreshments.”
“Yes, Miss Caroline,” said Sarah. She dropped a little curtsy as she left.
“Oh, dear,” said Caroline when she was alone. “No doubt they've already learned of Mr. Farrowby's visit and have come to find out if it is indeed true that I am prepared to throw away another chance at marriage. Still, I guess I had better see them before the entire village is talking of it.” She patted her hair into place and prepared to greet her visitors.
The morning room in which Lady Skipton and her daughter, Sophronia, were seated, was one of the more comfortable rooms in the house. Its diamond-pane windows looked out on a broad expanse of lawn edged with masses of rhododendrons. This part of the house had been added some two hundred years before to provide more private and less drafty accommodations than the older Great Hall and parlor allowed.
Caroline's visitors had indeed come to find out what they could. Lady Skipton, a short, rather plump woman and Caroline's closest neighbor, had long ago appointed herself guardian of her welfare. Her daughter Sophronia, already safely betrothed to a respectable country gentleman, was a number of years younger than Caroline and stood somewhat in awe of her competent and self-sufficient neighbor.
“Mama,” Sophronia said rather tentatively, while they were waiting, “perhaps Miss Chessington will not like to have us inquiring about Mr. Farrowby.”
“Nonsense, Sophronia,” said her mother, dismissing such an idea. “I am certain that Caroline realizes that my interest is not vulgar curiosity, but a genuine concern for her future. As she has no mother, it is no less than my duty.”
“Yes, Mama,” said Sophronia. She said no more because, at that moment, Caroline entered the room. She was wearing the same pink sprigged-muslin dress in which she had greeted Mr. Farrowby.
“How do you do, Lady Skipton,” she said. “And Sophronia, how nice to see you.”
“Hello, Caroline,” said Lady Skipton. “I am pleased to see that you have taken my advice and have begun wearing colors which do not emphasize your sallow complexion.”
“Mama!” bleated Sophronia.
“Caroline knows that I do not stand on ceremony with her but regard her as if she were my daughter.”
“Yes, indeed, ma'am,” said Caroline, maintaining her composure, for she knew that all four of Lady Skipton's daughters were intimidated by their redoubtable parent.
“And I am certain,” continued Lady Skipton, “that Caroline knows my interest in Mr. Farrowby's visit is only because I wish to see her happily established, as her own mother would have wished.”
“I thank you very much for your concern. Lady Skipton,” said Caroline. “However, I am afraid that you have made this trip in vain. I do not intend to marry Mr. Farrowby. He and I should not at all suit.”
“I believe you to be a sensible young woman, Caroline,” began Lady Skipton. “However, you cannot intend to continue to remain unmarried, living here with only your cousin and servants for protection.”
“Protection, ma'am? In Brampton? From what should I stand in need of protection?”
“You know very well, Caroline, that I refer to the protection of a man's name and of his wise counsel; someone to take charge of the management of your fortune.”
“Since I have come of age, ma'am, I have had control of my fortune, with the wise counsel of my man of business. I do not think I have managed ill. That there are many gentlemen desirous of taking charge of the management of my affairs I am well aware. Indeed, many of them would prefer that I not go along with it!”
There was a titter from Sophronia's direction, quelled quickly by a glance from her mother.
“To be sure, Caroline, a young woman in your position is prey to the fortune hunter. All the more reason for you to ally yourself with a gentleman who can protect you from them.”
“Such as Mr. Farrowby, ma'am?”
“Mr. Farrowby is a gentleman of good breeding. When you were younger, a woman with your fortune could have hoped for a title. Now, and I do not mince words, Caroline, Mr. Farrowby would be an excellent choice!”
“Mr. Farrowby and I share no common interests. I have no reason to believe that he feels any more for me than I feel for him.”
“I am certain, Caroline, that your dear mother would be shocked to hear you speak so! You speak as if you were a merchant's daughter! That is what comes of being so long on your own and so involved in matters so foreign to female sensibilities. I cannot think what is to be done if you continue to refuse such eligible suitors as Mr. Farrowby!”
“I hope, ma'am, that I shall continue on as comfortably as I have in the past.”
“If only you had gone to London for your presentation,” said Lady Skipton, ignoring Caroline's last remarks. “As soon as it were known that you were an heiressâand of good family, as wellâyou would have had the opportunity to make a good match.”
“Then I must say, Lady Skipton, that I am glad I have not gone to London! I begin to feel like one of my sheep being sold to the highest bidder!”
“I can see, my dear Caroline, that your nerves are overset. I have long felt that dealing with business best left to men would prove too much. You talk as though being a considerable heiress were a hindrance, not an advantage. I do not scruple to tell you that for a young woman who is by no means a great beauty, a sizable dowry is of the utmost importance. You might as well go to London incognita, so that no one will know you are an heiress. I have never known you to be so foolish! Sophronia, yes, but you, no!”
Caroline could not help laughing. “I am sorry, ma'am, to be such a disappointment to you. I know you are concerned about me and I do thank you for it, but truly, there is no need to worry. We go on quite well as we are, and I am quite capable of managing my affairs. I would much rather hear about Sophronia's wedding plans. I am certain you must be so busy!”
Lady Skipton, recognizing the stubborn tone in Caroline's voice, turned to Sophronia, who blushed at becoming the focus of attention. She began talking about her gowns, and the three women were soon involved in a discussion of fashion, in which the merits of various fabrics and styles were debated. She had brought the latest copy of La Belle Assemblée and shyly showed Caroline the sketches of several costumes which she wished to have. Lady Skipton pointed out how fortunate it was that Paris fashions were again available now that the war with the monster Napoleon was indeed over. The Skiptons remained for a short time, partaking of the offered refreshments. Caroline did not give Lady Skipton further opportunity to return to the subject of her visit, and when they departed, Lady Skipton remarked that she would speak to Caroline alone at another time.
“I should hope not,” said Caroline wearily to herself when they were safely out of earshot. “I am quite bored with the subject of my future.”
“Did you say something, my love?” asked Cousin Aurelia, coming into the room.
“No, I was just thinking aloud,” replied Caroline.
“Was that Lady Skipton's carriage I saw? You should have called me. Had I known they had come to call, I would have come to greet them, though I was resting in my room. I hope she did not consider my absence a slight.”
“I am certain she did not,” said Caroline. “Lady Skipton came particularly to speak to me.”
“I wonder what for,” said Aurelia. “Perhaps she wished to speak of Sophronia's wedding.”
“We did speak of the wedding,” said Caroline, wishing to avoid a further discussion of Mr. Farrowby. “Sophronia accompanied her.”
“Such a lovely thing, a wedding,” said Aurelia. “I remember when my own dear sister was married to Mr. Bensonhurst. Such fun we had: the gowns, the shoes, the hats! Of course, we were not wealthy, though dear Papa had provided for us as best he could. And I remember the wedding of your own dear parents. Such a lovely bride your mother was. And now, of course,” she concluded coyly, “we look forward to your wedding, dear Caroline.”
Caroline had heard quite enough for one day about plans for her marriage. With a great deal of effort, she held her temper and said merely, “How eager everyone is to see me married! I shall begin to think you are all trying to be rid of me. Let us hear no more about my wedding. And now, please excuse me. I must speak to Keith about the new garden.” She strode out of the room.
“Well!” said Cousin Aurelia after her. “I wonder what I said!”