Bething's Folly Read Online Free PDF

under Carleton’s eyes, the weary look to his mouth, the deep lines at his forehead, the droop to his shoulders.
    “Oh, Alex,” she cried, and stepped forward to hold him in her arms as she would a child, this boy—man now—who stood so tall.
    Misreading her emotion as grief, Carleton awkwardly tried to comfort her. He held her close, gently patting her back as she rested her cheek on his shoulder, her golden head incidentally creasing his fresh neckcloth. “There, my Lady, all will be well. Come, sit by me.” And he led her to a window seat where velvet hangings made a frame for her lavender gown. Two pairs of blue eyes exchanged worried looks until the Duchess had to lower hers. Carleton took her hands and squared his broad shoulders.
    “Mother, I”—he cleared his throat—“I need your help. I ... I have made a promise.”

 
    FIVE
    A ball was planned at Carlyle Hall for a short few weeks later, a ball of such grandeur its like had not been seen in the county in recent memory. The dance was ostensibly the Duke’s gift to his niece Margaret, Jack’s daughter, to announce her engagement to Captain Mark Hendricks, which explained all the scarlet regimentals seemingly billeted at Carle Manor, Margaret’s home. Carlyle Hall itself would host many of London’s finest families, all manner of distant relations and a near-score of Carleton’s own friends. The young men were invited for a week’s hunting, and to sustain Carleton, though only Ferddie Milbrooke knew the desperateness of the case.
    Not everyone could accept the Duchess’s kind invitation, of course, owing to the haste of preparation and previous engagements—the Prince of Wales, for one, was abroad but sent his regrets. It must be noted that among the refusals, not a single one was from a household with an eligible daughter.
    Margaret’s engagement might serve for propriety, but rumours were as thick as starlings on the lawn. For the local gentry there were too many people—and servants—who knew otherwise. Every housemaid and groom with a connection to the Hall was suddenly known by name. The details were mere speculation, but the Duke’s intentions were not. As for Town, there were just too many young women invited for coincidence. Even the Duchess could not claim kinship with so many families. Perhaps, gossip went, the Marquis was in difficulties with some outraged husband and this was the solution. The dowagers gloated—it was about time the impudent cub was leg-shackled—while betting at White’s filled an entire page: Would the Duke pull it off? How soon? What were the chances of the Season’s Beauties? Carleton wisely remained at the Hall in the country.
    The Marquis had no need to seek an heiress, which brought joy to the hearts of mamas whose daughters were more blessed with beauty than material endowment. Those of more generous means spent a deal of it improving the debutante’s physical assets. Such a flurry of activity kept every seamstress between London and Carlyle Hall burning candles late into the nights. The country misses, especially, did not want to be eclipsed by their London cousins and had their ball gowns cut a little lower, their stays pulled a little tighter, their hair piled a little higher. There was a rush at the dancing instructors of the vicinity also, for the waltz would be performed. Some of the local mothers had never seen the waltz danced and only knew it by reputation. They worried lest their daughters be considered fast for dancing, or dowdy for sitting it out. Much tea was consumed over deliberation of this question, which was finally settled with the argument that, after all, if the Duchess of Carlyle permitted it in her home, the waltz must be unexceptionable. All around the countryside and among those soon to be assembling at the Hall, delicious anticipation was another house guest.
    At the Hall itself there was much less time for deliberation. Extra staff was hired from the village and even borrowed