The Complicated Earl

by Audrey Harrison

Genres: Historical Fiction; Regency Romance

Synopsis

**DUE TO FEEDBACK ABOUT THE GRAMMAR/PUNCTUATION THIS BOOK HAS BEEN PROFESSIONALLY PROOF READ AND EDITED ON 1st OCTOBER 2014**

Tom Fulwood, the future Earl of Standish discovers at the age of fifteen that marriage can destroy a man, namely his father. His mother prefers entertaining men in her bedroom, while her husband sits downstairs, unable or unwilling to respond to his wife’s inappropriate behaviour. From that day on Tom vows that no woman will hurt him the way his mother hurt his father. For the next seventeen years Tom works hard to become one of the most notorious rakes London society has ever seen, successfully keeping all the women of his acquaintance at a distance.

In 1810 twenty-four year old Isabelle Crawford had been brought up hearing stories of how much in love her dead parents were and had expected to find similar happiness when she came out in society. Reality was different to what she had imagined though, instead of love, she found fortune hunters and as a result left London to set up home in Bath. Her two elder brothers had supported her decision, although they would have rather seen their sister married instead of choosing what was seen by the ton as an eccentric decision, a young woman living a single life in Bath with a cousin as chaperone.

A potential marriage between Tom and Isabelle’s brother and sister, throws the couple together and sets in motion a chain of events that will see Tom fighting for his life and Isabelle being kidnapped by the very man that Tom had found in his mother’s bedchamber all those years ago.

Release date: February 6, 2013

Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

Print pages: 339

Sample

Prologue

 

Tom ran up the large oak staircase, almost stumbling in his hurry to follow the sound drifting tantalisingly down the stairs. He reached the first floor and rushed down the hallway to approach his mother’s dressing room. The sound came from beyond the closed door, the sound of his mother’s laughter. It was so rare to hear her laughter ringing through the large house that he had been drawn to hear it, desperate for the sound to continue. It needed to seep through every corner of the house and make it feel warm and inviting, unlike the cold place it usually was. He reached for the door, a smile already on his lips, it was not often his mother and father laughed together and the urge to be part of a happy moment was irresistible to a lonely young boy. He opened the door quietly, not wanting to stop the moment by his entrance, the need in him to belong to something warm and happy was almost physical. The door revealed his mother sitting at her dressing table, turned sideways to the table. She was dodging being kissed, throwing her head back with laughter whilst at the same time encouraging the next kiss.

 

The smile froze on the fifteen year old’s face as the scene before him sank in. His mother was being kissed and teased not by his father, but by a man who called regularly to the house, a man he had thought was his father’s friend. The shock of the situation stunned Tom into silence for a few moments and the grotesque scene continued to be played out before him. It was clear his mother encouraged the gentleman’s advances, holding onto the lapels of his coat and if he tried to move away from her she pulled him back to her lips. Tom did not know all society’s rules, but he knew this was wrong, very wrong.

 

“Get your hands off my Mother!” He eventually said with a low growl, wanting to sound as menacing as he could. In reality he would be no match against this fully grown man, but he knew he had to intervene in some way. He stood tall, his slender figure rising to its full height in an effort to appear a threat. His fists clenched at his sides ready to respond in any way he could, despite the odds against him. He had to try and grasp onto the thought that his mother was not in the wrong, perhaps the gentleman was forcing her to behave in this way? Even as the thoughts raced through his mind, he realised he was clinging in desperation to anything that would not place his mother as a co-operative party in this horrific spectacle. For him to think otherwise was too galling to comprehend for someone who cared for his family as much as he did.

 

His words stopped the frivolity, but only for a moment. “Oh Tom, don’t be a silly child, run along and play with Sophie. Do something useful by entertaining your sister instead of interfering where you are not wanted. You can be a damned inconvenience sometimes,” his mother said, dismissing his protectiveness with a wave of her hand.

 

Tom stared at her in disbelief. She had never been an overly affectionate woman, some would say she was cold towards her children, but she had never openly rejected him, as if he was nothing more than a servant to be dismissed. She showed no embarrassment at being seen in such a compromising position. No matter how he tried to excuse her actions, Tom suddenly realised just how little she valued his good opinion and how little he must mean to her. The realisation was hurtful enough, but more than his own hurt Tom stung, because his father was in the house. How could she do this with another man when his father was downstairs? How could she risk Father calling this man out, bringing shame on herself and the family? How could she behave so wantonly?

 

“Sophia, don’t be hard on the boy, he is trying to protect his mother’s honour,” the gentleman laughed looking Tom over. “You should be proud of him.”

 

“If his timing had been better I might be, but I have other things on my mind at the moment,” came the reply from a woman determined not to let Tom’s interruption stop her from having her fun. She did not look towards Tom again, but untied the cravat of the gentleman, using it to pull him closer. “Go away Tom, and in future knock before you enter my room.” Her speech ended, she kissed her lover fully on the mouth, oblivious to the effect on her eldest child.

 

Tom faltered in the doorway, uncertain what to do, before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The crash of the door into its frame did little to make Tom feel better, he was humiliated and ashamed by his mother’s words and actions and felt lost in a situation that he knew he was powerless to stop. He ran along the corridor away from the horrifying scene and almost fell down the stairs. These were the same stairs that had carried him up only a few moments before, when the promise of laughter and joy seemed to stretch out before him. He hurried to reach the library, he needed the help of his father, he needed to stop this somehow.

 

Tom found the Earl seated in a deep red leather winged back chair near an empty hearth. It was early afternoon but the curtains were half drawn and the brandy bottle half empty, a glass hanging precariously from his father’s hand. The chair arm alone prevented the glass from falling to the floor. No recognition was given of Tom bursting into the room breathless and obviously upset.

 

“Father, you must come quickly, Mr. Ollerton is with Mother in her dressing room! They are....well, It isn’t proper!” Tom saw his father wince at his words, but the only action the words stirred was for the Earl to lift the glass to his lips and drain the liquid. “Father, are you not going to do anything?” Tom asked in disbelief.

 

“And make her hate me even more? No! I am not going to do anything,” came the slurred response.

 

“It isn’t right! Why is she doing that? What about us?” Tom shouted. He was responding in fear, his parents were supposed to be good people, not behaving as if they had both gone mad.

 

“You don’t understand,” his father slurred, “You will one day, when you marry.”

 

“This is normal?” Tom asked in disbelief, his young mind reeling while he tried to make sense of the situation. He had wondered if perhaps there were things he did not know and this was considered normal between adults, but it did not feel right. He desperately wanted to understand why his parents were behaving this way because he had never felt so lost and unsure before. For the first time in his life he felt that there was no-one there to offer support and protection.

 

Tom’s words seemed to waken his father from his stupor and he looked at Tom with almost clear eyes. “Not always, but happiness is unusual in marriage at our level Tom. Your mother is not satisfied with everything that I give her and believe me, over the years I have tried and tried to make her happy. I have bought her everything she has wanted, I have never forced myself on her and I have been faithful to her, even though she has rejected me in every possible way,” the Earl said bitterly. “We are not unusual in this, many women take up with other men. You may need to guard your heart in order to get used to gentlemen visiting your wife when she tires of your visits to her chamber. It may happen even to you my boy, better you realise it now.” This seemed to amuse the Earl as he started to laugh and then hiccup, but soon his body began to shake, and the laughter turned to tears and loud sobs.

 

To see his father reduced to such a state disgusted and angered Tom beyond all feeling that he had yet experienced. He withdrew from the library and ran out into the garden ignoring the servants he passed along the way. He had to be out of the house, the house that was his home had suddenly become a living nightmare for him.

 

He knew his parents were not madly in love, a fool could have seen that. Tom spent much of his time at boarding school, but during the holidays he had become accustomed to his mother making snide comments to his father and picking arguments where there were none. He had never questioned how their marriage had come about, it was common knowledge that it had been a joining of two fortunes, his mother being a number of years younger than his father. Tom had been an only child until his sister Sophie had been born a few years earlier. Although the marital discord was not consciously at the forefront of Tom’s mind he remembered that he had hoped Sophie’s arrival would help to make his parents happy. He had the impression that his father had hoped so too, but his mother rejected every attempt at civility by Tom’s father after Sophie’s birth, so normal hostilities had been resumed.

 

His run turned into a breathless walk. Had anyone had seen the young man, they might not have realised they were looking at a boy whose childhood was at an end. There was a physical change as his shoulders squared and he began to walk that little bit taller. He had to be strong for his sister Sophie, she must never see the sights he had today. That way, at least one of them would grow up in blissful ignorance. His protective instincts came to the fore, if no-one was there to protect him, he would make sure he would be there for Sophie. He thought about the wider world, and how the servants would know what was going on, and his skin prickled with embarrassment. He was practical enough to realise he could do nothing about that, but whatever the cost he would not let anyone outside their home know that his family was a sham. He resolved that no-one would ever get close enough to him to see the shame his family now made him feel.

 

His father’s words rang in his ears. Surely marriage could not really be like that? Why was it so popular if it was so hurtful and destructive? There was a lot about marriage he had not known, but if that was the way marriage had to be he wanted nothing to do with it. He vowed that he would do all that he could to protect Sophie, but he would never put himself in a position where a woman would make a fool of him as his mother was doing to his father.

 

From that day on Tom Fulwood, future Earl of Standish would never allow a woman to touch his heart, because he built a steel-like shell around his emotions. He was determined that he would never be found crying in his library over a glass of brandy while his wife frolicked upstairs with another. If that was marriage, he was determined to remain single for the rest of his days. His rakish lifestyle developed over the coming years to such an extent that no respectable woman would ever consider marrying him. No-one gained the affections of the future Earl of Standish, since few were brave enough to try.

Chapter 1

 

 

Isabelle breathed a sigh of relief when her last morning caller left. She loved her independent life, she truly did, but sometimes she could scream with frustration at the people that surrounded her. They were content to carry out their lives, going from call to call, gossiping about the latest fashion or love interest, but never having a real conversation, never challenging each other’s views or opinions. It was all very polite, very civilised and very dull.

 

She settled down to read her brother’s letter, after the door shut on the final visitor. She knew that to read it before the callers had arrived would result in her being distracted through the stream of visits and she felt she owed it to her visitors to try to fully attend to their conversation. Although a visit may be tedious, she did not want to gain the reputation of being rude; slightly eccentric she could accept, but a slur on her manners would be too much. The letter was to be the reward to herself after a morning of nonsense.

 

She sat at her writing bureau near the window of her drawing room, which was a large square room on the first floor of her home. She had looked long and hard for the perfect house to live in when she had moved to Bath, and sitting in her chair, the feeling settled over her that she had chosen well. Thirty-eight Great Pulteney Street offered everything she had wanted in a home. The view along Great Pulteney Street never failed to make her smile. The Bath stone of the houses seemed to glimmer even on the dullest of days, and whenever she looked out of the window there was always some activity going on. As one of the main thoroughfares in Bath, this was an area that throve with life.

 

She took a deep breath of anticipation as she broke the seal, letters from James always proved to be exasperating, or funny, but one could never tell which emotion was going to emerge at the start of any correspondence from him.

 

James was the eldest of the family, the heir to the family fortune, but he had never thoroughly taken to the role of being in charge of the household. Isabelle had often thought that her second brother, who was only two years younger than James, was more suited to the role of head of the family. Frank was steady, sensible, and loyal, and if truth be told-a little bit staid, which were all traits needed to ensure the family name and reputation were kept intact. He had married early to a pleasant, compliant, if slightly dull girl, and had already ensured that the family name would continue by producing two boys in quick succession. As James did not appear to want to settle down and start a family, Frank alone ensured the family name continued.

 

Isabelle had benefited from James’ wayward lifestyle, since she had managed to break convention herself by rejecting the marital state and setting up her home in Bath with a cousin. This had occurred without the censure of her family which would have been forthcoming if James had been of a different character, because not every brother would accept a sister’s refusal to comply with tradition and expectation. She often wondered if an aversion to marriage was a family trait, as the revered state had never appealed to either of them.

 

A reputed beauty, she had certainly made a hit during her first season in London. How could she not, with her tall slender figure, full mouth, dark hair and darker eyes? The suitors had courted her to the best of their ability, but she had turned down the offers that had been forthcoming. As an indulged younger sister, her brother had not forced her to consider marriage when he had been approached by suitors requesting her hand. He had wanted her to marry a person she chose, rather than one he decided was best for her.

 

Isabelle had often wondered herself why she had not been tempted to marry. Her suitors had all been eligible and because of her own fortune, she did not need to marry for money. During her first season instead of being flattered by the men that had flocked around her, she had soon become cynical of the way she had been courted. Many gentlemen had not even tried to hide the fact that it was her money they wanted. Admittedly, her beauty and personality were an added bonus, but not as important as the money. Faced with the reality of courtship she had chosen to take control of her life and had informed her brothers that she was going to set up her own establishment in Bath. The number of single women in Bath outnumbered the single men by around two to one, so she expected to be able to enjoy the pleasures that Bath had to offer, without the trials she had faced in London.

 

Frank had been completely against the idea, the thought of his sister embracing spinsterhood when she had no need to appalled him, and he was supported in his view by his wife. He voiced his opinions loudly, and Isabelle had borne them as patiently as she could. She knew that they were only expressed with her welfare at heart. She also understood that her usual strong-willed nature would not achieve anything by trying to battle with a person who was used to having his opinions accepted unquestioningly at home. She had let him vent his spleen and when he had run out of breath arguing with someone who sat opposite with a serene smile on her face, Isabelle had thanked him for his concern. She then continued with her plans as if he had not spoken, which had been resented by Frank, but he was powerless to force his will on his sister without his brother’s support.

 

James would have been the one in the family to stop the plan, but he was in some ways an unlikely ally when faced with this situation. He had expressed the desire to see Isabelle married well, but she had asked James which one of her suitors she should marry. She cited their advantages and made James laugh out loud with the imitations of the bumbling ways they had tried to hide the fact that her fortune was more important than herself in the marriage. James had been forced to acknowledge that he knew exactly how she was feeling. One of the few candid conversations was held between the brother and sister after Isabelle’s performance, each agreeing that although welcome in most instances, their individual fortunes could also be a curse. James had been sympathetic because he had been courted by all the single women and their mothers in an attempt to secure a marriage. His trials had gone on for longer than Isabelle’s, but he had developed a wayward lifestyle as a defence that had put off all but the most determined of women.

 

In reality James would have found any request of Isabelle’s difficult to refuse, partly because he was a good deal older than his sister at thirty-two to her twenty-four. Frank was thirty, and the gap of six years between Frank and Isabelle was a result of five unsuccessful pregnancies by their mother. The Doctor had advised her to let her body rest, but a fiercely determined woman, who desperately wanted a large family, had insisted on continuing to try again and again to have more children. Finally, Isabelle had been born healthy and strong, but the strain of the other pregnancies had taken its toll as the Doctor had feared and Isabelle’s mother had died within days of holding her daughter.

 

Isabelle’s father had been devastated at his loss, as theirs had been a marriage based on love. The result of his loss had been that he had not rejected his family after his wife’s death, but indulged them beyond the levels that would have been allowed had their mother survived. It was a credit to each child’s nature that they did not turn into spoiled beings, instead they accepted their father’s indulgence with amusement and fondness, but without changing the early lessons learned from a sensible mother. Isabelle did not receive that grounding, but luckily an Aunt was brought in to help care for the little one. She offered the guidance needed to enable Isabelle’s development to progress into the young woman who turned so many heads during her first season.

 

Her brothers had always seen Isabelle as their last link with their mother. She looked so much like her. As she developed, it was obvious to everyone that she had the same fierce determination and calm confidence about herself. She was self-reliant and capable of making her own decisions, just as her mother had done. Isabelle had inherited her mother’s fortune, which was added to when her father died when she was twelve. She had grieved for her father, but the pain had been eased by the support and care of her brothers, who in their own way had always acted like father figures around her.

 

Isabelle had always thought she would marry. She had no personal experience of her parents’ marriage, but she knew she was the result of a loving union. Marriage was always spoken of in such a positive way, so that she could not but hope to achieve a similar alliance when she entered society. Unfortunately the closeted upbringing she had, had made Isabelle slightly naive with regards to the politics of marriage, and her first beau had seemed to be everything she had hoped for. An intelligent girl though, she was quick to pick up on inconsistencies from her suitor, and had raised her concerns with her brother. He had made enquiries which had shown her to be the victim of a fortune hunter. The suitor was told to leave his sister alone in terms that left no doubt of the consequences if he were ever to approach her again.

 

Although her heart had been bruised, it was re-assuring for her and those around her to realise that it had not been broken, but she was more cautious after her first encounter. She did not know whether it was her increased cynicism after her first brush with romance, or that her suitors were particularly transparent. She had been faced with one fortune hunter after another, and had to face the possibility that she would not have the happy ever after that she had expected and hoped for.

 

The realisation of the shallowness of society had been a blow, but Isabelle was determined to make the best out of her situation, as she was not one to be down for long. She had assessed her options and come to the conclusion that life in London was not for her. She could not trust most of the people she met, and she knew that this was not a healthy way to live. Her options included setting up with her brother in the family home in Hampshire, but he could marry at any point. She was sensible enough to know she would not want to step down from being mistress of her own home once used to it. She also did not want to spend her life in the country, visits to her home were a pleasure, as she loved the place, but living there with James would result in her spending a lot of time alone. James spent the season in London and a lot of time in Brighton. Frank would have happily had his sister live with him, since he only lived twenty miles from their Hampshire home. Isabelle would not go and live with him to be seen as the maiden aunt, and made use of when it was convenient. She may have wanted change in her life, but she was not giving up on it.

 

She had grown up visiting Bath regularly and enjoyed its location, facilities and possibilities. Once the decision was made to move out of London she knew almost instantly that Bath was the place she wanted to be. Frank had been horrified and had tried his best to persuade, argue, or bully her in order to change her mind, but she had been firm. When James had realised her determination, the only stipulation he made was that she have some sort of companion with her.

 

Isabelle had accepted James’ reasoning and had approached an older unmarried cousin. She was pleasant and Isabelle had always been fond of her, as she had previously spent much time with them at their home, so she was more like a sister in many ways. Mary would enhance rather than hinder Isabelle’s enjoyment of her freedom.

 

So, it was when Mary had left Isabelle alone after the morning visits that she took the time to open the letter from James. She had not heard from her brother for a while, which usually meant that he was being completely outrageous, and trying to avoid his sister finding out what he was doing. That he eventually told her himself of his exploits never seemed to bother him, he just did not want her to hear what he was doing until the latest exploit was over. Isabelle braced herself for the latest mad scheme.

 

Dearest Izzy,

 

Hope you are well as always and still surviving in that Godforsaken place. I never understood why you chose Bath over Brighton, but nevertheless I hope you are finding some things to amuse you.

 

As much as I dislike Bath, I intend to make a visit for a little while. I could try and fool you into believing that I need to take the waters, but once you set eyes on me, I know you would no longer believe that I was ill. I am positively glowing with good health, but it is for this I need to be in Bath.

 

Well Izzy, I have finally done it, I have met the woman I want to call my wife! Can you believe it? I still cannot, but once you see her you will understand why, she is everything I would want and more. There is one issue in that she is a little younger than me, only twenty, but that does not matter to either of us. Another issue, yes, I realise I said there was only one issue, but I did not wish to concern you unduly. The other issue is her brother. She, like us, has no living parents and her guardian is her brother. I know him, since we went to Oxford at the same time, although he is a little older than me; but he has been listening to stories of my reputation, and although he is not totally against the match, he wants us all to spend some time together away from London and suggested a trip to Bath.

 

I agreed to it readily, even though I can’t stand the place, excepting it holding you my dear, but what else could I do? He wants me to prove to him that I am worthy of his sister and I can understand that. He could be a little more pleasant though, as his manner is abrupt and abrasive, more so than I remember it being at Oxford. Sophie says that he is like this with everyone, and it is not just because of any disapproval of me.

 

I shall be arriving the day of the tenth and hope to be with you for the fortnight. Hopefully that will be long enough to convince Tom Fulwood that I am worthy of his sister. I did think of inviting Frank along to show Fulwood that at least one member of our family is respectable, but thought it best not to inflict the whole family on him at once. I can therefore continue to avoid Frank’s monologues until I receive Tom’s consent.

 

I look forward to seeing you, and hopefully will soon have the pleasure of introducing you to a new sister.

 

 

Yours affectionately,

 

James

 

 

Isabelle had undergone a number of emotions while reading the letter, including laughter. She could not help but be amused at her brother finally succumbing to the charms of someone. The fact that it was not a standard romance was also no surprise. James never did anything straightforward, which did add to his appeal. She was curious to meet the girl who had finally touched his heart, as she must be special, and was intrigued by the ogre of the older brother. Having two such brothers as Isabelle had, she wondered at someone who was considered to be an abrupt and abrasive brother.

 

She tried to remember if the name Fulwood meant anything to her as she knew some of James’ friends. The name did not seem familiar but she was not surprised, from the description that James had given. Tom Fulwood sounded like an acquaintance rather than friend. Her musings were brought to an end when Mary joined her in the drawing room and Isabelle gave her cousin an update of the unexpected visit.

 

“It would be wonderful to see James happy. He is such a special person,” Mary said quietly, “Did he say anything of the young lady?”

 

“Only what one would expect of someone in love. I am looking forward to making her acquaintance and finding out more myself. He did not say anything about her family, apart from mentioning the older brother,” Isabelle answered.

 

“Tom Fulwood, I do know that name,” Mary pondered. Being closer to James in age it was more likely that Mary knew the gentleman, having spent much of her time with James over the years. “I remember! If it is the person I am thinking of, she comes from a very good family, Tom Fulwood, if it is the same man, is the Earl of Standish. A very noble family indeed.”

 

“Well at least she can’t be accused of being a fortune hunter,” Isabelle said, re-assured.

 

“True, but her brother has no need to criticise the behaviour of James, he is well known as a rake. No respectable mother would allow her daughter anywhere near the Earl of Standish!” Mary said shaking her head, defending her cousin.

 

Isabelle laughed, “Well perhaps that is the problem, he knows now what it is like when a rake approaches a sister you care about. He will be experiencing all the alarm that he will have inflicted on other families.”

 

“Isabelle, you should not refer to your brother as a rake! He is high spirited that is all.”

 

“At thirty-two he is too old to be high spirited, and we both know what he is. Let’s hope he can prove his love and good character to gain the approval of her brother, or he may come to regret his former lifestyle.”

Chapter 2

 

 

James had only given Isabelle two days’ notice of his visit, so hastily rearranged instructions were given to her Housekeeper to accommodate the extra addition to the household. She would also expect that James would want to be entertained while he visited, so advised her that there could be more gatherings held over the coming weeks, thus enabling the housekeeper to make preparations with the cook. Isabelle did entertain at home regularly, but she took pride in her household, and wanted to be prepared to entertain well.

 

The visitor arrived without mishap, and entered the drawing room late in the morning. “Hello Izzy, Mary, I see the fine weather does not extend to Bath!” James crossed the room shaking out his cuffs that had caught a few drops of rain from underneath his driving coat. He ran his hands over his dark hair, checking that it was still set in the latest fashion that his valet had worked so hard to achieve. He was an attractive man, tall and slender, with a full mouth and dark eyes like his sister. A family resemblance could be seen, although James’ features resembled his father, whereas Isabelle had more of her mother’s striking beauty.

 

“Now don’t you start by complaining about my home,” Isabelle teased. “This is the first rain we have had in days and it is very welcome. It gives us relief from the constant rounds of visiting. No self-respecting lady would venture out on a day like this to arrive at her friends’ homes with muddied hems. How are you James?”

 

“I’m well now I’ve seen that Sophie has been safely installed in the White Hart. I told Standish he should put off the journey in such weather, but he ridiculed my concerns. He’s supposed to care about his sister, not drag her half way across the country when the weather is appalling!”

 

Isabelle raised her eyebrows slightly, James must be in love if a morning of rain put him in such worry about travelling. “Yes, you failed to mention that the Tom Fulwood you spoke of was the Earl of Standish! I’m sure the Earl owns a carriage that is more than adequate to convey Lady Sophie to Bath.” She gently teased the over protective characteristic that she had previously not seen in her brother.

 

“Well they are settled into the warm now at least,” James mumbled a little contrite at his obvious over-reaction.

 

“Are they to stay at the White Hart?” Mary interjected before Isabelle had time to respond, therefore preventing her from having any further opportunity to tease her brother.

 

“Yes, although they hope to take lodgings in a day or two. I had told Standish that Isabelle was perfectly capable of sorting out lodgings for them before they arrived, but he insisted on arranging things himself.”

 

Isabelle was no longer surprised at James’ description of Lady Sophie’s brother. If she herself had her brother fussing around, as James seemed to be doing around both Lady Sophie and the Earl, she would have great difficulty in keeping her temper. She might need to speak to James about his over-fastidiousness, but she remained silent for the moment. It may have been the strain of the journey in such bad weather which was contributing to his mood, although she had never known him to be so affected previously.

 

Mary suggested that James have some refreshments, and she busied herself providing for her cousin’s comfort, pouring him tea, while encouraging him to sit in front of the fire. She sympathised with him about the damp air and assured him that he would begin to enjoy Bath more when the weather improved. Her calm, unaffected manner was appreciated by James and he was soon his usual cheerful self, after being indulged by Mary for a while.