The Yuletide Countess: Harriet's Traditional Regency Romance (9 page)

“Yes, of course,” said the earl, clearly relieved at the opportunity for
escape she had offered him. “I look forward to seeing you again soon.”

“Thank you, my lord,” said Harriet. She watched regretfully as he walked
away, still amazed at her temerity in rejecting his proposal.

“What a pity that you have a headache,” said Catherine. “The children
will be very disappointed.”

Harriet took her hand and squeezed it. “I don’t—or at least I did not,
though perhaps I feel one coming on now. My dear, I can scarce believe it, but
Lord Glencairn made me an offer of marriage.”

“Oh Harriet, I am so pleased for you!” said Catherine.

Harriet shook her head. “I refused him,” she said, her voice hovering on
the brink of a sob.

“You refused
him?” repeated Catherine, stunned. “He is an earl! And so very kind! Why ever
would you refuse a wealthy and pleasant titled gentleman whose company you
enjoy?”

“You are
surprised, of course,” Harriet remarked. “I was too. I found that I have become
too fond of him to be merely a member of his staff to whom he happens to be
wed.”

“Do you not
think he could grow to return your affections? Would it not be worth trying?”
Catherine inquired.

“Oh, he asked
me at the folly, you know. In front of the pedestal for the statue to his dead
Elinor, with an inscription that says quite clearly that his heart is dead and
buried with her.” There was another pause before Harriet continued, “It is
really quite absurd of me I know, but I felt I could not do without at least a
little corner of it for me.”

Catherine
glanced at Harriet, and said, “I think it’s a habit for him, being the bereaved
widower. It gives him an excuse to enjoy living in the country, and protects
him from females seeking a rich husband. But I don’t think that he still mourns
her in a way that leaves no possible room for another. More likely he has just
never considered the possibility.”

“You are likely quite correct, and I know I am doubtless a fool,” said
Harriet. “But his proposal was very much as though he was purchasing a horse;
he enumerated my excellent qualities as a hostess and a stepmother, with no
word of love, or even affection. And, he took me there in my oldest dress, with
marks on it from teaching the children to paint, as though there was nothing
out of the ordinary about the occasion. I never thought I would be distressed
by such trivial things, but I found, to my surprise, that they do indeed matter
to me.”

“Oh, my dear, what a pity,” said Catherine. “I had such hopes that you
would be the mistress of Glencairn Castle!”

Harriet sighed. “As did I. But I find I am almost as foolish as Miss
Paley. Though, I suppose I do know my heart, where she does not, and I have
decided that I must listen to its dictates.”

Catherine nodded. “You are fortunate to be able to do so,” she said.

Harriet nodded
sadly. “It is not every spinster who is in the position to turn down an earl
merely because he does not speak of love,” she allowed. Luckily, I have nothing
in my current circumstances of which to complain, so I need not regret
anything, except my hopes that love might still find me even at my age.
Although I suppose they seem very foolish indeed.”

Catherine shook her head. “No, you are not foolish at all. If you will
not be happy in a marriage, it is best not to embark upon it.”

“Thank you, I will try to remember that when I am regretting my rash
decision,” said Harriet. “And now, I must leave before I see Lord Glencairn or
the children; I have no need of more awkwardness today. Do come to Dargenwater
Cottage on your next half day, and we will have a chat.”

“I look forward to it. And please do come and visit the children; they
will miss you if you do not.”

Harriet nodded. “I will come, but less often, and soon we will leave for
England, and Lord Glencairn can put me behind him. I hope he finds a suitable
wife soon.”

Catherine hugged her sympathetically, and Harriet left the castle,
mournfully retracing her steps to Dargenwater Cottage. There she found that
Isobel was still at her excavation, and so with great relief she retired to her
room with the curtains drawn and a cold compress for her forehead.

The following
week passed very slowly for both Harriet and Isobel. While somewhat hobbled by
her ankle, Isobel went daily to her excavation, but the relics she found did
not seem to lighten her mood, and Harriet’s visits to Glencairn Castle became
far less frequent. When she did venture there, she was relieved to find that
the earl was clearly making it his aim not to encounter her too often. He never
intruded on her lessons with Sophia, and she caught no more than glimpse of him
at some distance, discussing the folly with a worker. Harriet was pleased to
see that the folly was almost complete, and made sure to let Isobel know that
it would be a very lovely building when finished.

“I’m sure Lord
Glencairn will be very grateful to you and Lord Francis for such a delightful
addition to his estate,” she said to her cousin one afternoon as they sat in
the drawing room at Dargenwater Cottage.

Isobel smiled
wistfully. “I suppose I should go to Glencairn to see how it is coming along,”
she said. “It is just that since… well, since I am so busy at my excavation, I
hardly know how I will find the time.”

“It might be
polite of you to do so,” ventured Harriet. “I have not seen Lord Glencairn of
late. I would carry a message to him, but I see him so seldom.”

Isobel looked
surprised. “You were wont to spend much time with him,” she said.

Harriet
shrugged in what she hoped was a casual manner. “Glencairn seems to be much
occupied with other matters. The affairs of women and children likely seem
inconsequential to him.”

“Perhaps I
will go there in the next day or two to see that all is well,” said Isobel.
“After all, it is would be only polite of me, as I am thinking of leaving
Scotland soon.”

Harriet looked
up eagerly. “Leave Scotland?” she said.

“I know you
must be terribly disappointed, as you love it so dearly and have made such good
friends at Glencairn Castle,” said Isobel. “But I am reaching a point at my
excavation where I feel we should not dig again until next summer, or my
findings may be washed away with the rain and snow of winter. And with the
folly done, and no more to be done at Ballydendargan…” Her voice trailed off.

“Of course, if
you have finished your business here we should be gone,” said Harriet, trying
not to sound too enthusiastic. “As you say, I am very fond of Scotland, but it
would be good to see Kitswold again.”

Isobel
hesitated. “As to that, I need to meet with my solicitor. I thought we might go
to London for a few days.”

Harriet looked
up, startled. “London in late summer? How dreary. There will be no one in town,
and it will be frightfully hot.”

“I know,” said
Isobel placatingly. “It will be an imposition, but I do have need of Mr.
Askworth’s advice.”

Harriet
shrugged. If it was necessary to remove to London in order to avoid the sight
of Lord Glencairn, then London it would have to be. “Of course, my dear,” she
said. “I will go wherever you choose. I’m sure London for a few days will be
quite tolerable. Perhaps we can visit Madame Celine and purchase some new
gowns.”

Isobel looked
faintly at surprised at Harriet leveling so few objections, but privately felt
a sense of relief at not having to cajole her further. “Then, if we leave in
four days’ time that will be fine with you?”

“Four days
will be perfect,” said Harriet, thinking that, between packing and planning,
she would likely have to visit Glencairn Castle one more time. “Please allow me
to make the plans to close the Cottage. I know you will want to spend as much
time at your site as possible.”

“It will not
be a problem to help—” began Isobel.

Harriet
interrupted, waving her hand. “Not at all, my dear. It will be my very great
pleasure to help you.”

“I thank you,”
said Isobel. “If you will supervise the packing of our baggage and the closing
of the cottage, I will make sure all is well at the dig. We shall depart on
Saturday.”

“That will be
perfect,” said Harriet. A bit of the heaviness began to lift from her
shoulders. Surely, when she was out of Scotland, she would begin to forget her
regrettable affection for Lord Glencairn.

When Catherine
came to visit on her half-day, she found Harriet bustling about, ordering the
packing of trunks, the stowing of luggage, and the closing of the cottage until
the next summer. She greeted her friend with an affectionate kiss on the cheek.

“Catherine,
how sweet of you to visit. Had you my note?” she asked.

“I did indeed,
and very sorry it made me. I will miss your company a great deal,” said her
friend.

“And I will
miss you, and the children. But I cannot regret our departure; after all, my
continued presence in the neighborhood cannot be comfortable for Lord
Glencairn, and I certainly feel awkward whenever he is mentioned. I earnestly
hope that in a few months, I will have put all this behind me.” Harriet sighed.
“I do my best not to think of it, but it is very difficult when he is so
close.”

“I’m certain
that when you return next summer, it will feel less difficult,” ventured
Catherine.

Harriet
shuddered. “He may have found another bride by then, and I will simply have to
bear it. But do not let us think about that! Come in the drawing room and we
will have a cup of tea.”

The two women
sat over their tea for some time, chatting of this and that, when Catherine put
down her teacup and cleared her throat gently.

“Do you recall
Mr. Beattie, the curate from Kilfarclas?” she asked.

Harriet looked
puzzled.

“He was the
tall gentleman with the reddish hair who danced with me at the Glencairn ball,”
prompted Catherine.

Harriet’s brow
cleared, and she smiled. “Of course I remember him now,” she said. “He danced
very gracefully for such a tall gentleman.”

“Yes, he is
very cultured, and comes from a good family in the highlands, but is the
youngest of five sons,” Catherine replied.

“Five sons!”
Harriet exclaimed. “I suppose there must be some daughters as well?”

“Yes, four,”
Catherine confirmed. “Even though the Beatties have a comfortable inheritance
and are well-respected, there is simply not enough for all of them to be
well-settled. Hence the curacy.”

“If his family
has only a moderate fortune, and similar influence, it will be very difficult
for him to get a preferment,” Harriet observed.

“Yes,”
Catherine said with a little sigh.

Harriet
nodded. There was no need for her to put words to her thoughts that Catherine
and her Mr. Beattie might never have the means to wed.

“Enough of my
concerns.” Catherine said. “What of the children? You must say good-bye to
them, or they will be disappointed.”

Harriet looked
miserable. “I know I must, but I do not wish to. It would be easier to simply
slip away, but I suppose if I am to be an example to Sophia, I must once again
model how she should go on.”

“I will have
them in the garden tomorrow afternoon,” said Catherine. “You will not have to
come to the house then, but can simply visit for a bit and then leave.”

“Bless you,
dear friend,” said Harriet. “That greatly relieves my mind.”

Pursuing this
plan, Harriet took some time away from packing and supervising the servants the
next day to stroll one last time to Glencairn Castle. As she trod the familiar
path, she felt a sense of melancholy that she would not, after today, walk it
again for almost a year. If she did then, she thought dismally. After all, she
would have no reason to visit, particularly if his lordship had remarried. As
the castle came into sight, she paused for a moment, pondering what might have
been, but then shook her head resolutely. It would not do to be sentimental.
She had made her bed, and must lie in it.

Harriet made
her way to the garden, where Sophy and Douglas were with Catherine, playing
shuttlecock amongst the late summer flowers. When they saw her, they set aside
their rackets and came running up, eagerly calling her name.

“Why have you
not visited in so long?” asked Sophy. “I have missed you, and my painting has
suffered.”

“Alas, Miss
Paley and I leave the day after tomorrow for England,” said Harriet. “I have
been assisting with the preparations.”

“Leaving for
England!” exclaimed Douglas. “Why would you ever leave Scotland?”

“My home is
with Miss Paley, and her home is in England,” said Harriet. “But I’m sure I
will see you here next summer, and when you are much older, we may meet in
London.”

Sophy appeared
to be quite overcome with emotion at the thought of losing Harriet’s company,
and tears filled her eyes, as she ran forward and embraced her. “I will miss
you very much,” she said. “I hadn’t thought that you would leave me so
quickly.”

Harriet,
surprised and touched, hugged her back. “At least we have become friends, and
that can never be taken from us,” she said warmly. “You are quite the most
charming young lady of my acquaintance, and I will always think very fondly of
you.”

Sophy stepped
back, wiping a tear from her eye. “Will you write to me, please?”

“If you would
like that, I will indeed,” promised Harriet.

“Will you tell
me of all the doings in London?”

“Of course I
will. And you may write and tell me of how your lessons are coming, and what
you are painting.”

Sophy appeared
to be somewhat mollified by this promise, and Harriet stayed some minutes,
talking with Catherine and the children. But when she saw Lord Glencairn’s
figure in the distance, moving toward them, she made haste to depart.

“I must be
going, children, as Miss Paley needs me. Be sure to listen to Miss Dalburn,
and, when you return to school, Douglas, I hope you will pay attention to your
lessons.”

“I will,” he
said solemnly.

With a last
hug for Sophy, and a squeeze of Catherine’s hand, Harriet fled. As the children
looked after her, Lord Glencairn joined them.

“Was that Miss
Walcott?” he asked.

“It was
indeed,” said Catherine. “She came to say good-bye to the children and to me.”

“Good-bye?”
asked the earl.

“She and Miss
Paley leave for England in two days,” said Catherine brightly, aware that she
should not know of his proposal to Harriet. “They have a great deal of packing
to do.”

Sophy
sniffled. “I will miss her very much. She was so kind to me, and so helpful.
She promised to come to the parties in London when I am eighteen and come out.”

Lord Glencairn
gazed after Harriet’s retreating figure. “That is very kind of her, Sophy. I
think we will all regret Miss Walcott’s absence.”