Page 10 of The Trials of Alaric
To Bea’s annoyance, what she was beginning to think of as “the Redhaven Effect” extended to herself. How dare Mr. Redhaven cast all her suitors into the shade, when he was not one of them?
On the day before the trials were to begin, the first ship into the harbor since the storm brought her cousin William toCladdach. William, Lord Beverley. Whom her father had clearly told Aunt Lewiston and Mama would not be permitted to marry Bea. Not that she would have him, even if he won all the trials. Not even his sisters liked Lord Beverley. Only his mother, and to a lesser extent, her mother. To them, he was perfect.
However, here he was. He presented himself at the castle and was shown to the drawing room. “My entire family is here, dear Aunt, so I thought it fitting to join them,” he drawled.
“You are very welcome, Beverley, of course,” Mama cooed, exchanging a conspiratorial glance with Aunt Lewiston.
The three of them had planned it, Bea realized. Papa looked at each of the conspirators in turn, and then at Uncle Lewiston, whose face showed no reaction. Had he, too, just realized that his son’s presence here on this day was part of an audacious scheme to put Beverley in the running for Bea’s hand. Or was he one of the conspirators?
The potential family altercation had an audience, too. Most of the house party guests were gathered for predinner drinks. Would Papa turn Beverley away? It was not beyond him. The Lord of Claddach was the law on Claddach, and he was not accustomed to being deliberately defied.
Bea found herself holding her breath.
“Ah, Beverley,” Papa said. “You are just in time. After dinner, I shall be announcing the rules for the trials of the suitors. You will not want to miss it, I am certain. Beatrice, dearest, do we have a closet or some such left in which we can stow your cousin?”
“I think we can do better than a closet,” Bea told him, both relieved and disappointed to miss a bout of paternal fireworks. “I shall make arrangements. Cousin Beverley, do you wish to freshen up after your travels? Dinner is in thirty minutes.”
Beverley followed her out into the hall. “Cousin, you are looking more delectable than ever. Are those fellows back thereyour suitors? Hardly the pick of the litter. What was Mother thinking?” His smile was smug.
Bea ignored him. The housekeeper must have heard about Beverley’s arrival, for she was coming up the stairs. “My lady, Lord Beverley,” she said. “My lady, I have sent maids to prepare the green room, and his lordship’s valet will be waiting there for his lordship.”
The green room was an excellent choice—one of the best rooms still available, but not in the family quarters, where Beverley would be far too close to Bea for her comfort.
“Very good,” Bea said. “Beverley, Mrs. Johnson will show you the way. I will see you at dinner.”
Who could she invite to balance the table? Mama would have to put up with an uneven table this once, but she would not take the offense quietly, so Bea had better think of a suitable female, and send the invite before Mama began to fuss.
There was really only one possibility—Dr. Bryant’s daughter Christina. She had only been on the island for eighteen months and was more of a friendly acquaintance than a friend. But all of Bea’s close friends except for Reina were married.
Would Christina be insulted at being invited to make up numbers? Bea had better visit her in the morning and explain the situation in person.
After dinner, when Mama gave the signal for the ladies to leave the table, Papa stood and asked the gentlemen to also proceed to the drawing room. They all obeyed, of course, though some gave lingering glances at the port decanters. Not Mr. Redhaven, she noted. He followed Mama with a pleasant smile that suggested he would like nothing better.
Those who feared missing their port need not have worried. The decanters and glasses were presented with the tea trays while the guests were still settling into chairs and onto sofas.
Skelly supervised the delivery of glasses of port, brandy, or other libations, while Bea poured tea, chocolate, coffee, or herbal tisane for a maid to take to those who preferred such a beverage.
Papa waited until the drinks had been served and the servants had left the room before taking up a position before the fireplace and clearing his throat.
Instantly, he had everyone’s attention.
“My ladies, my lords, gentlemen. You all, I think, know the reason for this house party. Apart from the pleasure my wife and I take in your company.”
He paused to permit the polite chuckle the assembled guests obligingly produced.
“The rumors are true. My daughter has agreed it is time for her to marry.”
“She could have been presented at Court and enjoyed a Season in London at any time for these past five years,” objected Lady Lewiston. “And so I have said before, Claddach.”
After a considering look at his sister-in-law, Papa replied, “Beatrice felt strongly, and I agreed, that she was needed here on Claddach, and that those gentlemen who were most likely to make her a good match were also busy on their estates or fighting for our safety or otherwise engaged in productive work.”
“Gentlemen,” sneered Beverley, “are not required to work.”
What a chaw-head Beverley is.
Papa lifted an eyebrow at him. “I am not referring to manual labor, Beverley, though such work is not to be scorned, but the labor of the mind and spirit. It is that which makes our class fit for government. Gentlemen with healthy estates and investments had better know that kind of work. Younger sons who take up a profession had better know that kind of work.”
He allowed his gaze to roam the room, focusing on the younger gentlemen. “Even younger sons who are independently wealthy had better take an interest in the investments on whichtheir wealth is based, or they risk destitution. When I attend events in the London Season, I see that each family has a few idle wastrels supported by the labor of someone else in their family, either living or in previous generations. None of them will do for Claddach.”
