Treating a Sinful Earl by Henrietta Harding
Chapter 8
Catherine had to do something. Meeting with the Earl of Simmons had been a dream, but she found herself shy, yet again. Had it pushed him away when she said that she did not wish to dance? She sincerely hoped not, for being in his presence was transfixing, and Catherine hoped for the opportunity again.
As luck would have it, Abigail was paying her a call that very afternoon. This would afford Catherine the opportunity to speak with her friend plainly so that she might receive the help that she desperately sought.
“Catherine, a word with you,” her father, William, said as she passed his study.
“Yes, Father?” Catherine entered, wondering if she had done something amiss.
“There are matters that we need to discuss. Please, have a seat.”
Catherine did as she was told, seating herself and folding her hands neatly in her lap. “What is it?”
“Your mother and I were discussing things over supper last night. We were most pleased that you attended the Duke’s ball, and we wish that you would undertake such outings more often.”
Catherine grinned from ear to ear. “But that is precisely what I was thinking. In fact, dear Abigail is arriving this very afternoon, and I wish to impart to her that I need her help to undertake it.”
William nodded. “That is most encouraging to hear. But your mother and I are tempted…to send you into town to find a suitable match.”
Catherine constricted her brow. “Into town? Do you mean leave Bath for London?”
“That was what I was suggesting. You see, who you spend the rest of your life with is of the utmost importance. Your mother and I do not wish to stay in Bath for many more years, and that is why the matter is pressing. Once you are secure with a husband, she and I will be able to depart.”
Catherine could not believe what she was hearing. He and her mother wished to depart Bath? Why Bath was her favourite location in the world! Even though she had not seen much else of the world.
“Where shall you and mother go?” she asked in dismay.
“Your mother wishes to be closer to her sister in Cornwall. I myself would not mind a change.”
She inspected her father’s long, rigid face. Yes, he looked weary. Her father had always mentioned that Bath reminded him too much of his late mother, who supposedly was a rather difficult person and was very hard on her son. Catherine could understand why he wished for a change.
“Father, although I am surprised by this news, I encourage you and mother to do what pleases you best. But it’s rather vexing to think that now there is pressure to have this business over and done with. You know that I am attempting to be less shy, and this shall make me shyer, if only due to the nerves alone!”
He inhaled sharply, folding his hands upon his desk, and leaning forward. “Take heart, Catherine. Every woman has been in the same position in which you find yourself. It is new and frightening, I am sure. But trust that I shall never allow you to marry a man that is not of the highest calibre. You will find someone in London more easily than here in Bath, where the options are more limited. Trust that I have fully considered all of this.”
She froze, hating the notion of travelling to London. How frightening it would be to attend all those large parties with merely her chaperone to accompany her, for she was not sure if Selina and Abigail would be allowed to go. Of course, her mother would travel with her, as well, but that made the prospect even more intimidating!
“Father, allow me one more year in Bath. I promise that I shall do my best, and after that one year, I would be amenable to travelling into town to fulfil your wishes.”
He shook his head from side to side. “Please understand, your mother and I must be hastier in our decision than that. I can allow you two more months in Bath, and if a suitable husband is not secured, you shall venture to London.”
Catherine bit her lower lip, hating what her father was suggesting. Only two months to find a husband in Bath. Why, who would ever agree to such a quick courtship?
Oh, but the Earl of Simmons came to mind….
Catherine banished that thought, for he seemed far too good, far too amusing and fascinating to agree to such a thing. What’s more, he was in no rush to be married himself. What was she to do? In that moment, it seemed as though there was no other option.
“Father, I agree to your terms, merely because I have no choice in the matter. I understand your desire for haste, and I shall do my best to secure a husband in Bath within the next two months.”
He smiled, then leaned back in his chair. “Thank you for being so amenable, Daughter. You may go now.”
Catherine slowly rose from her chair, her heart pounding in her chest. A fit of nerves took over as she thought of the immense task at hand. She had to find a husband in two month’s time, and if not, she would be shipped off to London? How abominable her fate now seemed. If only her father had more sympathy, he would allow her more time.
When she finally arrived in the garden, she felt dejected. What was to be a pleasant encounter with Abigail was now fraught with fear for her future. She discovered her friend seated on a bench, a broad pink hat upon her head. Catherine rushed to her with open arms. “Oh, Abigail, but fate is doomed!” she cried out, embracing Abigail as she stood.
“What has happened?”
“Father says that I must find a husband in Bath in two month’s time, or else, I must go to London for the Season.”
Abigail’s mouth dropped open. “That cannot be.”
“It is true. My father has decreed it. Oh, Abigail, I need your help! It is so terribly difficult for me to be social. I have tried in the past week, and I cannot say that I have been much of a success,” Catherine said, turning downcast.
Abigail placed a loving hand upon her back. “You are far too hard on yourself. You did a marvellous job this past week. You met the Earl of Simmons! And I believe that he is ever so fond of you! Is that not enough to prove to you that all is well?”
Catherine considered Abigail’s words. Surely, the Earl did not have feelings for her, but there was that look in his eye which could not be denied! He seemed like he might be rather fond of her, but that signified nothing in light of her current circumstances. She needed to be honest with herself about what her prospects were, for the Earl was far out of her league and there was no chance that he would take a wife so beneath himself.
But then, she reminded herself that she was not beneath him in the slightest! Catherine had so much to offer, and what’s more, she knew that she could help him to feel better using her remedies. Her attention stolen, Catherine walked over to a bush of nettles and toyed with them using her fingers.
“These can help my fear,” she stated, pulling off one leaf.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that nettle is a perfect tincture for fear,” Catherine explained. “I used to make a tea of it when I was a young girl. When mother fell ill….”
Abigail seemed to entirely understand what she was referring to. Catherine’s mother was ill with her second child, and sadly, this child was lost. Her mother expressed that she felt a great deal of grief and fear after the passing of this child, and although Catherine was young, she knew to make her mother nettle tea every night to calm her. Now she would be the one that would need to incorporate this tea in order to soothe herself.
“You know so much about this garden,” Abigail mused. “But it seems like now, more than ever, you need a love potion.”
Catherine could not help but laugh, for she did know how to make a love elixir but had never attempted it. It had never been important for her to do so, for love had been the last thing on her mind.
“No, no. I do not wish to deceive,” Catherine explained. “I merely wish to truly love someone who loves me in return. Oh, I believe that love is quite simple in the end. It is a mutual experience, and this is something that I now need to find with haste.”
Abigail replied, “I am confident that you shall do it, Catherine. You are such a marvellous person, and I must admit that I am jealous of your beauty. If I was half as beautiful as you, I would be married by now.”
Catherine turned to her with curiosity written upon her face. “Would you marry Felton Andrews?” she asked.
Abigail smiled faintly and looked away. “I do not know if my parents would approve of Mr Andrews. He is a mischievous sort of fellow, and I must say, who enjoys carousing just as much as I do. They would not see him as a secure kind of man, and that is very much what my family wishes for me.”
Catherine’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Yes, it was evident that Abigail’s parents wanted her to meet a man with considerable funds, and although Abigail was fond for Mr Andrews, he was something of a wanderer, it would appear.
“Perhaps you could bring out the best in him,” Catherine suggested. “I am sure that if he secured your hand, he would be most devoted to you. In fact, I am quite confident of this, merely by observing the way that he looks at you.”
“How does he look at me?” Abigail seemed surprised.
“It is hard to explain,” Catherine replied thoughtfully. “He merely has a sparkle in his eye when you are near. In fact, I would say that he positively stares at you! But do not take offence from this, there is so much admiration in his gaze.”
Abigail lit up with excitement, and Catherine found herself hoping that one day a man would look at her in that same manner. But then again, the Earl did have something in his eyes….
“Let us not speak of this,” Abigail went on. “There are far more important tasks at hand. We need to find you a husband, and with haste!”
“What am I to do? How shall I bear myself?”
Abigail scratched her chin whilst she thought. “I think the most important thing for you to do is to be yourself, albeit an amplified version.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean…we need to secure more flashy apparel. You must pay attention to what hats you wear on certain occasions. A bit of cosmetics can be applied. But all in all, you must be you, Catherine. There is no sense in pretending you are someone you are not when it comes to spending the rest of your days with someone! What’s more, we must have you attend every single ball and party in Bath. There is no other way.”
Catherine’s shoulders slumped. How abominable to have to attend each and every party. She was exhausted just thinking about it. Still, she was no longer in a position to second-guess Abigail, and therefore, she would do everything that her friend said, and she would do her best to enjoy the challenge, as well.
Just then, a footmen came out into the garden carrying a letter. “This is for you, Miss,” he said, handing it to her.
She took the letter and noted the seal. It was from the Earl.
Lady Trowbridge,
I hope that you have not forgotten about my dinner arrangements. Might you be able to attend on Saturday? It would be lovely to see you.
Warmly,
Simmons