Sleepless in Southampton by Chasity Bowlin
Chapter Three
“She’s so terribly young, Henry. I cannot imagine any young woman being on her own in such a strange city. She must have been quite terrified!”
His aunt, Cecile, was pacing the floor in his uncle’s library. Henry was standing before his uncle’s desk with his hat in hand, both figuratively and literally. Meanwhile, Miss Upchurch was waiting on tenterhooks in the drawing room.
“She is young, Aunt Cecile, but that’s rather the point isn’t it? Philippa misses out on so much because she so rarely gets to go to parties and balls as other girls her age do. Having Miss Upchurch here will give her a friend, a companion to go to the shops with on days when she is well enough and to laugh and giggle as all young girls should. Philippa hardly ever laughs anymore. And in all honesty, offering our hospitality to Miss Upchurch for the next few weeks will mean the world to her at very little cost to us.”
“I know that! This year has been terribly hard on poor Philippa… her megrims have become so much more frequent and she’s developed a terrible melancholia as a result,” Cecile said. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to have another young woman in the house she could bond with, that would be company for her.”
“It would be good for her,” his uncle intoned. “It’s decided. The girl will stay. That way, Cecile, you can rest and not be party to all the quackery required to see the girl well! In your condition, you must be cautious, after all.”
“Condition?” Henry asked.
Cecile blushed. “We weren’t going to say anything yet… but I’m with child again.”
Please let it be a son. Let it be a son and let it be healthy!He wanted that so much for both his aunt and uncle but also for himself and the freedom it would afford him. “Congratulations and best wishes to you both!”
“You won’t mind not being the heir if it’s a son?” Cecile asked.
“No, I will not mind,” he stated emphatically. “I will be quite relieved to have the responsibility of the dukedom hovering over someone else’s head for a change.” It was quite true. He’d dreaded assuming even more responsibility for the family, because that’s what the title meant. It meant being the head of the family and being fiscally responsible for all the various maiden aunts and cousins who invariably required upkeep.
His uncle shook his head. “Never will understand why a man wouldn’t want to be a duke.”
“Because then he gets to be too busy to be just a man,” Henry said. “I’m going to go and let Miss Upchurch know that her future has been favorably decided.”
“How did you meet this girl, again?” Cecile asked.
“On the stage,” Henry replied. “She was traveling to Southampton for a position. Lady Parkhurst had retained her as a companion.”
Cecile shuddered with distaste. “That woman! I know we aren’t supposed to speak ill of the dead but she was just vile… vicious, mean and miserly… and every word out of her mouth was a complaint. The poor girl, despite all this uncertainty, will likely be better off!”
“I’m well aware,” Henry said. He’d gotten pinned down by the woman at social gatherings once or twice over the years and had listened to her list of complaints on those occasions. What might have seemed terrible luck at first for Miss Upchurch, could ultimately be the best thing for her. “Now, I’ll go speak with Miss Upchurch.”
“I will speak with Miss Upchurch,” Cecile insisted. “Frankly, this whole business is quite unorthodox enough. We certainly don’t need you making it seem any more inappropriate. This girl is our guest now and all proprieties will be observed, Henry… no matter how pretty you find her.”
Henry didn’t bother to deny it. They would all know it for a lie, anyway. They had seen the girl, after all, bedraggled as she might be at the moment.
As Cecile exited the room, Henry turned to his uncle. “Julian was supposed to be at the Duke of Wellington Inn. I was attempting to waylay him there and send the boy home to face the consequences.”
“Consequences?” his uncle asked. “What has he done now?”
“He’s been sent down from University for gambling. And he’s also quite in debt… to less than savory people,” Henry answered. “It will only get worse from here.”
“You’ll sort it all out. No doubt he will show up eventually begging for sanctuary,” the duke stated dismissively.
Henry shook his head. “It’s a bigger problem than that, Uncle. This is not the first time Julian has done something like this. He’s run through his allowance and he’s racking up debts at an alarming rate.”
“It’s Horace’s problem, really,” his uncle said, waving his hand dismissively.
“And Horace is penniless,” Henry reminded him. “He’s run his estates into the ground and we’ve been supporting them for the last three years.”
His uncle blinked. “Have we?”
Henry sighed. How did his uncle remain oblivious to such things? “Yes. Don’t you read any of the reports from your solicitors and stewards?”
“There are too many of them,” his uncle groused.
Apparently, he’d been working much harder as a prospective duke than the reigning duke did in his actual role. “On that note, I’m going up to my room to settle in. I shall see you at dinner.”
“Your aunt will be here in the next few days with her betrothed. I’ll leave it to you to ferret out anything problematic about the man. You can do that, can’t you, Henry?”
He really didn’t want to. He really wanted his uncle, the head of the family, to be the head of the family. But he would. Because he’d been asked. And that was simply the way of things.
*
Sophie hadn’t stayedin the drawing room. It hadn’t been her plan to snoop or to make free in someone else’s household. Dirty as she currently was, she felt terribly guilty about sitting on any of the furniture, so she’d wandered about, pacing the perimeter of the room. It was then that she’d seen the pale, wan face of a young woman through the glass of the French doors leading to the garden. As she’d stepped closer to the doors to investigate, the girl had seen her. Her face, though still pale and tight, had warmed with a friendly smile and she’d beckoned Sophie outside.
Now standing on that terrace overlooking the garden, that same young girl settled in on a chaise with a light blanket draped over her, Sophie found herself feeling rather awkward. “Hello,” she offered somewhat timidly.
“Hello. I’m Philippa. Who are you?”
Sophie wasn’t certain how to answer that. “I’m Miss Upchurch. Your cousin brought me here.”
“Henry? Henry is here?” The girl’s face lit up. “Oh, I’m so glad he made it. Are you… oh, my goodness! Are you his betrothed?”
“No! Oh, dear heavens… goodness, no!” Sophie shook her head emphatically. “We’ve only just met, but I was having a bit of difficulty and he’s been very kind.”
“What sort of difficulty?” the girl asked.
“I was engaged to act as companion to Lady Parkhurst several weeks past and, unfortunately, word was not sent on to me that I should not come in light of her recent passing. So, now I find myself in a strange city with no employment. And your cousin, whom I met while traveling here today, thought that perhaps your parents might take pity on me and allow me to stay here with you all until I can sort things out.”
The girl’s smile lit up even more, her eyes glowing with vitality. “Oh, well of course you will stay! And you and I will have so much fun. You can accompany me when I go for my weekly sessions of sea bathing. Mama can’t right now. She’s… well, she needs to take care of herself for a change. No doubt she and father will be quite relieved to have you here to keep me company and to join me for my treatments.”
Sophie stepped further out onto the terrace and seated herself on one of the chairs that flanked Philippa’s chaise. “What sorts of treatments are you undergoing?”
“I have hydrotherapy twice weekly and sea bathing at least once weekly. The sea bathing is much preferred to the hydrotherapy. It’s not enjoyable at all, frankly. But my physician insists that it will help with my megrims and with the melancholia that results from them.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sophie murmured. “What do you do when you are not suffering these terrible symptoms?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been having these spells for so long, I can’t recall what I did before. And honestly, I daresay that I’ve outgrown any such entertainments by now!”
“What sorts of things, aside from your treatments, do you do now?” Sophie asked.
Philippa sighed and waved her hand to encompass the garden. “This is what my physician has advised. Rest, sunshine, and hydrotherapy. I do occasionally, when I feel well enough, go to the shops. But the doctor has ordered no strenuous activity such as excessive walking or dancing, which means I cannot attend any parties unless they are hosted by mother and father. They must also be deadly dull as all excitement is to be avoided. But the megrims are so terrible that I will do anything to prevent them.”
Sophie was overwhelmed with sympathy for the girl. “You poor thing! How long has it been this way?”
“I’ve always suffered terrible headaches, but they worsened as I became older until they were entirely debilitating,” Philippa said. “But let’s not talk about such awful things. Tell me how you met Henry! I’m so very curious. He has never brought anyone here before. He must think you very remarkable, indeed.”
Sophie didn’t wish to discuss that because she didn’t want to tell this sweet girl that her cousin, despite his much appreciated assistance, was a liar. “I think it’s more a testament to your cousin’s charitable nature than any indication of his opinion of me.”
Philippa grinned. “I think it must be more than charity, surely! Despite your slightly disheveled appearance at the moment, you must know you are very pretty. I daresay Henry knows that you are.”
Sophie had no idea how to respond to that. Thankfully, the terrace doors opened and a woman in her mid-thirties appeared there. Dressed as elegantly as she was, Sophie knew she could be none other than the Duchess of Thornhill. Rising to her feet, she dipped a curtsy. “Your grace.”
The duchess waved her hand. “No need for all of that, my dear. We are a much more informal household than most. With poor Philippa so ill, standing on ceremony is an exhausting waste of time in most instances.”
“Certainly, your grace. As you wish,” Sophie said. She had no notion of what degree of “less formal” was acceptable.
The duchess noted the high color in Philippa’s cheeks. “You’re certainly looking a bit livelier, dearest. I think Miss Upchurch’s company must agree with you. Are you up for having a companion for a few weeks?”
“Oh, yes, Mother!” Philippa exclaimed. “It would be so lovely to have someone about who is my own age.”
“Very well. Henry speaks very highly of Miss Upchurch, so even without references, I think we are well set to bring you into our household. Naturally, we will take care of everything for you while you are and the first order of business will certainly be your clothes! We have to see about improving your wardrobe, my dear!”
Sophie felt a flush creep over her cheeks. “Oh, that isn’t necessary! I’m quite content with what I have.”
The duchess laughed. “You will be taking your meals with us in the dining room. While we don’t have guests all that frequently, I imagine we do entertain more than Lady Parkhurst had planned to do. I’m afraid you will certainly need a few gowns. And on the off chance that Philippa feels up to attending any parties or soirees as the summer progresses, you will certainly need appropriate gowns for that.”
“The physician said—” Philippa began.
“The physician is a man,” the duchess said firmly. “And all men are far more capable of being wrong than they will ever admit.” Apparently realizing that her words might have been harsh, the duchess then smiled. “Come, Miss Upchurch. We will get you shown to a room next door to Philippa’s and you may unpack your things and get yourself situated before dinner. The gong will ring sharply at eight. It is later than many of our neighbors dine but not so late as when we are in London. My husband is quite adamant about following the physician’s orders that Philippa should get as much rest as possible.”
“I’ll see you at dinner, Miss Upchur—Sophie,” Philippa corrected. “We are going to be the very best of friends. I’m so glad you’re here.”
