A Spinster No More by Rose Pearson
Chapter Nine
Anne was not surprised to see another letter by her table setting as she sat down for breakfast. The handwriting was unfamiliar, but she had received missives from all manner of people in the past few days. She slid a knife under the seal and unfolded the thick paper and began to read, an unexpected and gentle smile curving her lips as she did so. She had so come to dread everything in the past few days. It was a pleasure to receive something from someone who seemed to want to help rather than condemn.
Caroline appeared a few moments later, sliding into her seat and accepting a coddled egg and some bread and butter from the footman in attendance. She poured herself a cup of steaming hot chocolate and wrapped her long fingers around the cup. “Is that from your father?” she asked.
“No, it is from Mr. Cormick,” Anne said, still a little surprised by it. “He writes to ask for an audience with us, with you, for him and his brother this morning at eleven o’clock.”
“Oh, do say yes,” Caroline enthused. “I would be delighted to continue my conversation with Henry.”
Anne frowned. It was as if Caroline had completely forgotten the feeling of censure and being judged they had experienced at last night’s card party. The mere mention of Henry brought a genuine smile to her face. She truly was delighted. “I would imagine they wish to come to discuss what is to be done about the predicament we find ourselves in, not for you to continue to discuss things with Henry Cormick.”
“What predicament?” Caroline said, genuinely taken aback. “Lord Wilson was perfectly charming last night. He did not seem in the slightest bit put out. What is there to talk about in regard to a scandal that is no real scandal at all?”
“Are you truly so naïve?” Anne asked. “You think that just because Lord Wilson joined our table at cards last night that everything will be forgotten?”
“Well, it should be,” Caroline said pouting a little at being scolded. “Who have we hurt? All we did was talk. Lord Wilson does not seem to mind – and he is the only person who might be of a mind to mind.” She paused at the repetition, seeming almost mesmerized by it.
“Lord Wilson has impeccable manners. He would not ever be rude to a lady in public. He did what he did, to save his own face – not to protect yours. However, I do not doubt that he is upset and even if he is not, most of Society is angry on his behalf. Some form of action will be required – and it is up to us to find a way to placate Society’s outrage so that your prospects are not permanently tarnished.”
“So, how do I put that right?” Caroline said. “I can hardly be held responsible for the good humor of the entirety of the Ton.”
“I am not sure,” Anne said. “But hopefully, Mr. Cormick will have some idea of how we might rectify matters when he arrives.”
Caroline glanced up at the clock. It was almost ten o’clock now. She blanched a little and pushed her plate away. “I shall have to hurry to dress,” she said and got up and ran out of the room.
Anne set the letter down and ate her breakfast, alone in the silent dining room. She pondered over what might be done. Last night’s card party had confirmed to her that Society would continue to judge Caroline and Henry until they saw, to their satisfaction, that something had been done. The only thing that Anne could think of that might help was a betrothal – and that seemed unlikely. Henry Cormick did not seem to her to be the kind of man that really wished to be wed.
Her meal finished, Anne went upstairs and checked on Caroline. Her lady’s maid was carefully curling and pinning her hair, and Caroline had chosen a sprigged muslin gown that flattered her well. Anne did not doubt it had been selected by her lady’s maid, as Caroline had no concept of what suited her or not.
With a heavy sigh, Anne moved on to her own room, where she picked out a green satin dress and then carefully fixed her own hair, before she made her way along the corridor to Mrs. Spencer’s suite. Everyone in the house knew better than to disturb the older woman until well past half past ten, and Anne arrived as Maisie, one of the chamber maids, was knocking upon Mrs. Spencer’s door, with her pot of morning chocolate.
“I’ll take that,” Anne said, as Maisie handed her the tray.
“Enter,” Mrs. Spencer called out. Anne opened the door and went inside. Mrs. Spencer was propped up in her bed, a frilled dressing gown fastened tightly around her plump body. “Ah, Miss Knorr, how lovely. How was last night?”
“Not good,” Anne admitted as she settled the tray on Mrs. Spencer’s lap and took a seat by the side of the bed. “And I do not think that Caroline fully understands the precariousness of the situation.”
“I feared something like this might happen,” Mrs. Spencer said with a sigh. “She is so willful, and it is so hard for her to pretend otherwise.”
Anne nodded her agreement. “However,” she said, handing over the note that Mr. Cormick had sent her, “there may be hope of a resolution.”
Mrs. Spencer read slowly, running her finger under each word and mouthing them silently. “Do you think this is a good thing?” she said finally, having reached Mr. Cormick’s signature.
“I do. Mr. Cormick is a highly respected young man. He is clever and understands the Ton, he is very much a part of the highest echelons of Society. I don’t doubt he will have a solution.”
“Do you need me to be present?” Mrs. Spencer asked a little anxiously. “I fear I may not know what to say. I was not brought up in this world, after all. I don’t really understand it. It affects my nerves most terribly, all of this.”
“No, you may rest here,” Anne assured her. “I know that this matter has played on your mind greatly. I shall come up and tell you everything immediately they leave.”
“Oh, thank you, Anne. I know I was cross with you the other day, but I truly do not know what we would do without you.” Anne gave the older lady’s hand a gentle squeeze then headed downstairs. She wasn’t so sure that she was the right person to deal with all of this, either, but someone had to ensure that Caroline’s reputation was not lost due to such a silly mishap.
Both young women were seated, a little nervously, in the drawing room, when a loud knock on the door announced their guests. Caroline almost jumped out of her skin. Anne felt a jumble of snakes in the pit of her stomach begin to writhe and hiss. Contrarily to the two young women’s nerves, Mr. Cormick strode confidently into the room behind Mrs. Graham, the housekeeper, with Henry trailing behind as usual. Polite greetings were exchanged as a maid brought a silver tray with a coffee pot and cups upon it. Anne offered to pour, glad of the opportunity to do something, though she had to disguise an uncharacteristic shake to her hands as she did so.
She handed a cup to Henry first, who took it and immediately moved to sit beside Caroline. The pair looked at one another for a moment, then launched into conversation as if they had never been apart. Anne shook her head as she poured another cup for Mr. Cormick. She handed it to him, her hand shaking a little. His fingers brushed hers, ever so slightly, as she did so. Anne felt a shiver of sensation flood over her, and the heat of a blush rise up from her chest into her cheeks. She turned away and poured a cup for herself, taking a couple of deep breaths to calm herself.
When she turned back, he had taken the armchair by the window and was sat comfortably sipping at his drink. Anne took the sofa beside him and perched on the edge of the seat as she took a first sip of the dark, bitter liquid. “I was glad to receive your letter,” she said nervously.
“I did not know if it would be best to write to you first, or to Miss Spencer’s Mama,” Mr. Cormick said quietly. “I hope I did not make the wrong choice.”
“No, not at all. Mrs. Spencer is glad that you wrote to me. She is indisposed this morning.”
“Then I am glad I made the choice that I did.” He glanced over at Caroline and Henry who were engaged in passionate discussion already. “So, we must find a way to put things right, to protect Miss Spencer’s reputation – and salvage a little of Lord Wilson’s pride, if we may.”
“Indeed, though I am not sure how we might do such a thing,” Anne admitted.
“There is a way,” Mr. Cormick said cautiously. “But it is rather drastic.”
“Marriage?”
“You thought that, too,” he said with a grin. “I should have known that you would already have considered it.”
“But would Henry be willing?” she asked.
“He seems to be. Would Caroline mind such a match?”
“I don’t think so. She said to me that she longed for someone like Henry, someone she could be herself with. Whether or not her father would agree, well, that is another matter. He has it in mind that his daughter and grandchild might have a title, to cement the family’s place in Society.”
“Does he not know that these days such draconian measures are not required,” Mr. Cormick said with a grin. Anne smiled at his attempt at levity. “After all, am I not at the very epitome of Society? I have no title, but my family are good friends with Prinny, and my father was a good friend to Beau Brummel in the day.”
“Your mother does have noble blood though, does she not?” Anne enquired, recalling something that Lady Gertrude had once told her about the Cormick’s heritage.
“She does, but there are many in Society now that do not.” He paused. “Do you truly think that there might be an issue with Mr. Spencer granting his consent?”
Anne nodded. “I do. I wish I did not, because it is by far the most sensible solution to the matter at hand. But because Mr. and Mrs. Spencer did not grow up in Society, they do not always understand those peculiar unwritten rules regarding the protection of a young woman’s honor.”
“Then we need to convince Mr. Spencer of the merits of such a thing,” Mr. Cormick said as if it would be the simplest thing in the world.
“Convince me of the merits of what, exactly,” a booming voice said, as Mr. Spencer appeared in the doorway of the drawing room, his travelling clothes covered in dust from the long journey. Everyone jumped to their feet as he removed his coat, hat and gloves and handed them to a nearby footman. Mr. Cormick and Henry bowed respectfully, Anne and Caroline curtseyed deeply.
Caroline rushed to her father’s side and reached up to press a kiss on his fleshy cheek. He beamed at her. “I thought I was here to have some young fool ask for your hand.”
“You are, Papa,” Caroline said a little nervously as she tucked her arm through her father’s and led him to the sofa. He sat down heavily. “Just not the man Mama wrote to you about.”
Mr. Spencer looked a little confused. “Your mother said there was an earl sniffing around you, don’t tell me that you’ve gone and upset him somehow.”
Caroline blushed and sat down beside her father, holding his hand tightly. “Please don’t be angry with me, but I may have…” she broke off and looked plaintively at Anne.
“What Caroline is trying to say, sir,” Anne said, trying her best to sound confident and assured, “is that there has been a little misunderstanding.”
“What kind of misunderstanding?” Mr. Spencer roared at her, his face turning redder by the moment. He turned back to his daughter. “Don’t tell me you’ve let some penniless fool tup you on a terrace somewhere.”
“Nothing like that, sir,” Anne assured him. “But there was an incident at Almack’s the other evening. Miss Caroline and Mr. Cormick, here,” she pointed to Henry, “got talking and were so taken up by their conversation that Miss Spencer missed all of the dances.”
Mr. Spencer looked a little confused. “I don’t see why talking with someone is a problem,” he said. “Not like she was up to something behind anyone’s back, is it?”
“No, but Society tends to become more than a little put out by such things,” Mr. Cormick tried to explain. “A young woman’s honor and virtue are most precious, and there are many ways in which a young woman might lose them. Unfortunately, being seen to favor one-man over-all others – when not affianced to that man – is one of them.”
“Nonsense,” Mr. Spencer spluttered, then he paused looking at his daughter and Henry Cormick, then at Anne and Mr. Cormick. “So, talking to this young whippersnapper has ruined my girl?” He nodded towards Henry.
“Something like that, sir,” Henry said looking shamefaced. “I must assure you that I did not intend for such a thing to happen and will do whatever is in my power to put it right.”
“And you are?” Mr. Spencer asked.
“Henry, sir. Henry Cormick.” Henry bowed again, dipping his tousled head low.
“And you are not an earl,” Mr. Spencer said simply.
“No, sir. I am not. I am the second son of Wilfred Cormick. You may have heard of him. He is a very successful man.”
“I know of him,” Mr. Spencer said narrowing his eyes as he looked Henry over, clearly thinking of the advantages such a match might bring his own interests. “A fine man of business, and one I’d like to get to know in person. Such an introduction could be beneficial to us both.” He paused. “Only a second son, though. And no title.”
Anne cringed at how gauche Mr. Spencer was being. She barely dared to glance at Mr. Cormick to see how he was reacting to what was being said. When she did, she could see that he was struggling to contain his anger at his brother being dismissed out of hand by such a man as Mr. Spencer. “Sir,” he said. “I do not think you quite grasp the situation. If you do not permit Miss Spencer to marry my brother, then it may well be that no man in Society will consider her. It is a harsh fate, but one I have seen happen all too often. Once a young woman’s honor is gone, it is almost impossible for her to regain her place amongst the Ton.”
“It is true,” Anne urged. “Even if Lord Wilson still cares for Miss Spencer, he would never be able to marry her now – and neither would anyone else.”
Mr. Spencer tapped his thick fingers on his breeches impatiently and mugged a little as their words sank in. “And your income young man, what of that?” he asked, turning back to Henry.
“Currently, ten thousand pounds a year,” Henry said quickly. “But my father assured me that should I marry, it would be increased to fifteen thousand pounds.”
“Not much, but with Caroline’s dowry, it would make things comfortable enough for you,” Mr. Spencer mused. “How about property?”
“Nothing of my own, but the family owns an estate in Hertfordshire, and a townhouse in Mayfair. There is also a hunting lodge in Scotland.”
At the mention of an estate and a hunting lodge, Mr. Spencer looked a little more pleased at the prospect of letting his daughter wed someone without a title. “But no title? No noble blood?” He turned to Mr. Cormick. “And I presume everything comes to you as the first son?”
“My father has made generous provision for Henry in his will,” Mr. Cormick assured him. “And our mother is the daughter of an earl. As a family, we are blessed to count the Prince Regent as a family friend and have been invited to his coronation at the end of the Season.” This was no small matter, as only a very select group had been invited to attend the actual coronation itself. It bestowed great esteem upon the Cormicks and cemented their position in the highest echelon of the Ton.
And the information had done what it needed to. Mr. Spencer was beginning to look almost happy at the idea of a match with such a family. Anne gave Mr. Cormick a brief smile. What a wonderful thing to be able to boast. It was just the type of thing that might appeal to a man such as this. Mr. Spencer looked at his daughter. “And what of you, you silly ninny?” he asked her. “Are you happy to marry to get yourself out of this mess?”
“Oh, Papa,” Caroline sighed, glancing over at Henry with an uncharacteristically soppy expression. “I am.”
“Then I suppose there will be a wedding,” Mr. Spencer said with a shrug. Caroline immediately covered his face in kisses and then bounced over to where Henry was standing, still looking a little bewildered by everything that had just occurred. “I’ll see the vicar later today to get the banns read immediately. I’d like to get it done as soon as possible so I can return to my work.”
