Charlotte and George took their places for the seventh set of the evening, a minuet and another quadrille, both revelling in a mixture of nervousness and exaltation and anticipation of what was soon to come. The set finished far too quickly for their liking and Charlotte was quickly claimed for the eighth by the Baron Fortmarthen who was a tall, gangly, sallow fellow with an uneasy manner and, it quickly became evident by the frequency with which he stepped on her feet, little skill at dancing.
She was thankful that the ninth set was yet unclaimed and Lord Babington, who had been directed to partner her by his wife who desired a moments reprieve, was quite amenable to sitting it out so that Charlotte's suffering toes might stand a chance at recovering before the final set of the evening. Charlotte spent that time in conversation with Esther and Lord Babington and various other individuals who approached for brief conversations. The Viscount appeared at her shortly after the close of the ninth set for which he had been partnered with a friend of one of sisters.
Lord Morpeth paced a flute of champagne in her hands as Lord and Lady Babington called for quiet and made a toast to spring and the coming summer, inviting all gathered to join them in a drink. Following this the strains of La Belle Assemble could be heard as couples ventured to dance the final set and it was to disapproving and conspiratorial whispers and murmurs that Charlotte and George took their places for a third time that evening. The minuet that formed the first part of the set, which would be formed of three dances than two gave way to the Waltz in Don Giovani and then the King of Hearts Waltz. Both waltzes were very definitely couples dances allowing as they did for greater contact between dancers with hands placed about the waists of one's partner and with a great deal of turning and minimal crossing involved.
While the pair were dancing, the many observers could be heard commenting on the behaviour of a couple who, though widely acknowledged to be courting, were not formally engaged. There were mixed opinions as to the desired event that would follow their actions: friends and family chose not to worry overmuch, certain as they were in George and Charlotte's attachment to each other. Many of the young debutantes and society matrons clucked and tutted and desired the girl be abandoned by the desirable bachelor while those who held no vested interest could only hope their actions would not result in further scandal.
Charlotte and the Viscount were, of course, oblivious to all this and perfectly content to lose themselves in the intimacy of the dances and their usual light teasing of each other. They were sorely disheartened when the notes of the tune accompanying the final dance of the evening drifted to a halt and indicated that the ball was approaching its close.
Though they remained and were among the last guests to leave, they parted reluctantly that evening and hoped the morning would come swiftly as they retired to bed in their respective homes and fell into the arms of waiting slumber.
Morning did indeed come quickly for it was late when they had returned home the prior evening, though in truth it had been morning then already. Charlotte dressed quickly in a simple day dress of white muslin printed with closely spaces green flowers and ornamented only by a green sash at the waist and after enjoying a light breakfast ventured out with Alyona to collect some parcels she intended to send back to Willingden and Walcot Hall for her family and tenants with the morning post.
Upon their return to Fitzroy Square later that morning, The Viscount had already arrived and was waiting with her brother and sister in the sitting room.
"Justin, I hope the post hasn't been sent off yet, there are things I want to add to it." She called out as she entered the room while removing her bonnet, Alyona trailing behind, parcels in hand. She froze for a moment as she noticed Lord Morpeth was among the group who had all stood as she arrived. "Lord Morpeth… we did not expect you so early, Sir." She greeted and, in realising her error, rushed to add, "Which isn't to say you are unwelcome because of course you are" but the last words drifted off quietly, knowing that she was surely only making herself appear more awkward rather than less.
"Ah, I must beg your forgiveness Miss Heywood. I had meant to arrive at a more sociable hour but I could not bring myself to wait any longer. You look very well this morning; you are not tired after last night exercise?" The Viscount admitted though seemed rather unapologetic in his apology.
"There is nothing to forgive, Sir, and I thank you. I have only been collecting some things I hope to send home to my family for several of my siblings have birthdays over the coming weeks and there are some items my father asked me to purchase for our tenants while I am in Town that cannot be got locally. And you remain well too, I hope?" She dismissed his concern and responded eagerly as she moved to sit.
"Yes! Yes, very well indeed." There was a pregnant pause as the conversation halted, Charlotte knowing what he was about but knowing not what to say and George desiring to speak but having a great deal to say that was better spoken of privately. Justin Heywood and his wife recognised the tension that was growing the room for what it was and made their excuses and apologies, though these were appallingly flimsy, and retreated temporarily from the room though straying little farther than the bench placed in the hallway for waiting visitors.
George stood as they left the room, pacing about the chairs and alternating between sitting and standing for several moments before eventually settling on standing before her. "Miss Heywood, my purpose today will, I hope, come as no surprise to you." He paused here, attempting to gauge her reaction nervously and she smiled fondly at his unusual uncertainty. "I have, for some time now, known that my days and moods are made brighter by your presence" he continued.
"I am of the most decided opinion that your smile outshines the sun itself and your laugh sweeter than the pleasantest bird-song I ever heard. And though we have not been known to each other for so long as others might, these months since I first made your acquaintance have been among my happiest and have brought me a great many treasured memories. Miss Heywood, Charlotte if I may, my dearest, I can only tell you now that nothing should please me more than if you would accept the hand I offer you today and agree to tie yourself to me as my wife." He concluded and waited for her response anxiously with bated breath.
Charlotte could all but feel her heart trying to leap from her chest at hearing his admiration of her put to words. She opened her mouth to respond, to tell him that yes, of course she accepted him, but the words would not come. She settled for grinning beatifically, reaching her hands out to grasp his own and nodding effusively.
George let out a relieved sigh as he took her waiting hands in his own, lifting them up and placing a tender kiss to her knuckles. "You make my days brighter, to, my Lord, brighter than ever they have been before." Charlotte whispered as she shifted to lay a palm against his check and rest her forehead against his where he had come to kneel before her during his declaration.
As their eyes met they smiled and George pressing a single, gentle but appropriately chaste kiss to her lips before standing once more and helping her to her feet as her brother and sister had slipped back into the drawing room and made their presence known with a quiet cough. The couple turned to look at the other pair as they offered tentative congratulations and accepted these readily.
The Viscount remained but an hour longer, sat beside his betrothed on a blue chaise and talking of weddings and flowers and breakfasts. Which is to say that the ladies were speaking of such things and laughing at the outrageous suggestions of Reignette who had burst into the room demanding to know who the stranger was that prevented her favourite aunt from playing with her. The gentlemen, on the other hand, were quite lost and resorted to nodding and murmuring uncertain agreements which they might soon come to regret.
Lord Morpeth, having gained her father's direction from her brother during the course of their earlier conversation, went on his way with purpose, intending, as he did, to call at his attorney's offices in Cheapside to instruct the man on drawing up the marriage articles. These he hoped to present to the elder Mr Heywood when he called to Willingden in the coming days to seek his approval of the match with his daughter. Though, both being above one and twenty and of an age to exercise independence, they did not strictly need the consent of her father to wed but he should prefer it all the same.
His business was handled quickly and the papers would be delivered to Carlisle House the next day in time for his departure. Hoping his trip would be of short duration, he was eager to be gone and returned that he might continue to revel in the attentions of his lovely Charlotte. He was, now, as much hers and she was his and would entertain no notion from any quarter that she was not worthy of him though he was not fool enough to believe it would not be said regardless and by even his own relations. Well, they would eat their words when the marriage was heralded by the papers later that month and all chances at dissuading them from each other would cease to hold weight.
George returned to Carlisle House in the late afternoon with high spirits apparent to all and the cause of his pleasure apparent to most. He delighted in first withholding and then with much persuasion summarily declaring his news to those of his family as were gathered for the evening, among which were numbered his mother and lord father, all of his unmarried sister and those of his brothers what were not away at school or university, his nearest sibling by birth, the Lady Caroline. Most unusually, his cousin, Lady Susan, who rarely ventured to Carlisle House outside of her mother's company, had chosen that day to visit with his sisters and so would join them for dinner.
The family enjoyed a joyous meal that night and the evening was spent in discussions of romance and dresses and ponderous predictions for the wedding amongst congratulations by the women and talks of settlements and where they intended to live once they were married and teasing for the loss of his bachelorhood and freedom by the gentlemen who were significantly fewer in number than the ladies.
George retired to bed earlier than his family amid feelings of hopeful anticipation that the initial settlement contract would be delivered early and he could be on his way before the sun was past the peak of noon. His hopes were not to be met, however. The documents were delivered little more than an hour before the sun began to drop below the rooves of the houses lining the streets of Mayfair and George could not sensibly depart at such an hour with the encroaching darkness so was forced to postpone his departure to the following morning.
Acknowledging this he left instructions with a groom to have his horse readied by ten of the clock and with his valet to wake him early and to ignore his protests to the smallness of the hour. Such it was that he was woken, dressed and fed the following morning with speed and departed with only his valet to accompany him before any but the earliest risers of the household had even contemplated leaving their beds.
Willingden was perhaps two days travel from Town when one was transported by carriage and several hours less than that by horse for the great majority of journeys. George made the journey in a most remarkable time and his horse's speed and stamina were such that he arrived to the village that took it's name from the old house Charlotte called home which was situated some fifteen miles from the Sussex coast just as the sun could be seen setting over the sea on the far horizon.
Given the already great progression of the day, he determined to take a room at the inn on the edge of the village and venture to Willingden on the morrow. The inn was an old building of Baroque design and some parts of it in states of disrepair with a generally ill-kept exterior yet the rooms within were, if simple, well appointed, warm and clean with the lingering smell of fresh baked breads and wildflowers. George spent a restful night in a large private chamber where a second cot had been placed for his valet's use.
When morning came he broke his fast at a later hour with a simple meal of bread and cured meats and freshly pressed juice and was well enough able to bide his time until a more appropriate calling hour by subsequently perusing the stores and business offered by the village folk. As morning merged into afternoon, he returned to the inn for a repast of light pastries, berries and ale before venturing forth to impose himself upon the Heywoods.
Willingden, when he came upon it, made for an unusual view. The original house was distinctly Tudor in origin with great exposed beams, crosshatched windowpanes and a patchwork of terracotta, clay and slate roof tiles. Some later Elizabethan and Jacobean additions could also be seen from his present vantage and granted the house a peculiar character which, when taken the gardens that had been maintained in just such a way as to appear in a sort of tamed wildness, brought to mind a child's puzzle box.
He spent no further time perplexing over the old house, instead spurring his horse down the sloped lane on the front approach. A groom emerged from round the side of the main building to take his horse having heard the animal's hoofbeats and anticipated a visitor. George released his mount, a young stallion by the name of Carridae Bounty, whose mother he had purchased as a gift for his sister upon her wedding only to discover some weeks later that the mare's temperament made for a poor ladies mount and was growing broader across the flank, to the boy before stepping to knock at the door and make his arrival known to the family.
He was met at the door by a dour-faced old man with hanging jowls, merry eyes and a great many broken blood vessels across his nose and cheeks that spoke of either heavy drinking or numerous past encounters with violence. The Heywoods' butler was an odd sight to be sure, but well matched to the house he served.
George passed his hat and great coat to the man as he asked after the master of the house and, when informed that the family was out and given the choice to wait or return at another hour, he gave his name and card and elected for the former whereupon he was shown to a small and simply decorated parlour and brought a tray of tea.
The Viscount was grateful he was not left waiting overlong before the family, in their great number, could be heard noisily returning from their excursion and the butler made the master and mistress of the house aware of their visitor and his location.
Lord Morpeth stood as the older couple entered the room amidst the boisterousness of their children and grandchildren, looking more than a little concerned at presence of a peer in their modest homestead. The children who followed them into parlour quickly picked up on the less than usually pleasant atmosphere and anxiety of their parents and guest and shepherded the youngest out of the house and granting the much preferred quiet this meeting warranted.
"I would suppose that you are Lord Morpeth, Sir?" Mr Heywood clarified, uncertain as to the man's purpose in calling on strangers with whom he was not acquainted. George who had stood at their entrance, stumbled out something resembling an agreement and, coughing to settle the shaking of his voice and hands, confirmed that yes, that was he and bowed respectfully to his hosts.
"May we enquire as to your purpose in being here, my Lord, for I can claim no reason known to me?"
"Yes! Of course, as you should, sir! That is to say I did not expect you to know my purpose…" he trailed off, unsure of the manner in which it would be best to continue until he resolved to simply state his intention bluntly. "My name is George Howard, Viscount Morpeth and heir to my Father Lord Howard, Earl of Carlisle and I intend to wed your daughter, Sir. I come here today to ask for your blessing." And promptly resumed his silence awaiting the response of the elder gentleman who stood before him.
"My daughter, Sir?" he confirmed and, at the Viscount's nod, continued to say, "I wonder at your asking my blessing to wed her but not to previously court her, my Lord?"
"I sought and received permission from Miss Heywood's brother in town upon our meeting once more, having first met during her Visit to Moscow with Lady Worcester and where I accompanied my uncle for the imperial coronation. However, my family is an old one and it is unusual for our members to wed without the permissions of the fathers of our brides regardless of her age or the gaining of adequate consent from another male relative." George explained.
"I see. Well then, I suppose we must retire to my study and discuss the particulars of it all. I will assume you have with you a copy the papers to review." He said and turned swiftly striding through the door to a different part of the house clearly expecting the younger man to follow. George did. He gave another bow to Mrs Heywood who yet remained a little stunned and left the parlour in its master's wake.
They Heywood's estate was small by comparison to its neighbours containing only the manor house, home farm, two tenant farms and a working orchard which supplied fruit such as apples, pears and plums to the surrounding towns and villages. Tenant rents and the profits from the home farm and orchard brought in a fluctuating income that typically averaged in the region of £3000. The estates prosperity was such that, had they had fewer children, they might have found it a comfortable living without expending further investments.
But, with the birth of their eleventh surviving child, it was soon evident that £3000 a year was not sufficient to meet the most immediate needs of their family let alone to dower their five daughters, fund the educations of their six, which would soon become seven, sons in addition to the necessary expenditures to maintain any estate. Mr Heywood then poured all moneys that could be spared into a series of expeditious investments. His good sense in the choice of investments reaped plentiful rewards to such an extent that the initial sum of £280 was returned threefold in a short six months and had continued to grow in the six years since.
One of these investments had been with the James Watt & Co Foundry in Birmingham and one of less monetary benefits of this could be seen in the lightness of the well-lit, darkly panelled room the two gentlemen now found themselves in. The study was a small room with a desk and chair before the single window, the east and north walls, lined by large bookshelves, had two leather reading chairs either side of a chess table tucked into the north-east corner by the fireplace and a series of gas lamps placed at intervals along the walls completed the atmosphere.
Mr Heywood sat behind the desk and gestured for the Viscount to pull one of the chairs up to the other side of the functional wooden construction with an expression that made George feel as though he ben thrown back to a time when the most intimidating of experiences was being disciplined by his Head Master at Eton.
He pulled the papers from an inner pocket of his coat and laid them on the surface of the desk before him. Mr Heywood picked up the papers, unfolded them and set to reading them. For a time, there was silence; filled with tension for Lord Morpeth and careful concentration for Mr Heywood.
At length, the papers were laid down once more and Mr Heywood linked his fingers, resting his chin upon his knuckles and his forefingers upon his lips as he considered the gentleman who sat on the other side of the desk. He nodded minutely, pleased with his study and what he found before lowering his hands to rest atop the papers.
"These are very thorough, my Lord." He said at last. "I cannot argue with much of their contents, for they provide very well indeed for my daughter and any daughters or younger sons she may have by you." Mr Heywood was certainly willing to agree to all but a small number of the terms laid out withing the settlement.
The Viscount had clearly detailed that Charlotte's dowry would be added to the lump sum of his personal fortune that was held in the four per cents and would be returned to her control in it's entirety should she outlive him and that she could will it to whomever she pleased at her discretion upon her own death. Where she predeceased him, it would be used to purchase an estate for their third son, the heir and second being provided for already by the property held by his own family which currently included at least one unentailed estate, or otherwise for their eldest unmarried daughter.
Charlotte would be provided a generous pin allowance of £300 per anum and this would be in addition to a household budget under her express control for the domestic management of Morpeth Terrace, where they would reside in London until such a time as he succeeded his father as the Earl when they would remove to Carlisle House, and for Walcot Hall. Charlotte would also retain the ownership and full authority of that estate and had instructed his attorney to detail this in such a way as to make it legally binding.
Their future daughters would each be dowered with a minimum sum of £25,000 that would be set aside in trust at their birth and, funds allowing, this would increase by the time they were of an age to wed. Where their daughters chose not to wed before their eight and twentieth birthdays, the sum of their dowries would be released to them.
Each son who was not provided for with an estate and a monetary inheritance reflecting that estate would be granted a sum of £65,000 upon his death and, as with the daughters' dowries, would be held in trust until his death. Each son would be entitled to an annual allowance of £600 until their majorities and would be expected to live within the means provided.
Charlotte would be free to reside in whichever of their properties throughout her life after his death as she pleased. All jewellery purchased for and gifted to her throughout their marriage would be hers to keep and subsequently bequeath as she pleased in death. Jewellery already belonging to the Howard family would go to the eldest son for the use of future countesses.
"I notice however, that you have not stated a sum when accounting for her dowry."
"Ah… No Sir. I'm afraid I can only claim to be ignorant of the details of the extent of your daughter's dowry."
Mr Heywood's brows rose in surprise at this admission. "You would marry her without knowing her worth?"
"I would, Sir. In truth, her dowry makes very little difference to my decision. I am capable enough of ensuring she and our children are provided for comfortably and within the terms of the settlement independently of my family's wealth. I know she owns an estate and fortune in her own right that brings a very comfortable income itself and that is more valuable than a dowry in providing for our future children." George explained.
"Even if I were to be outlived by my father, our eldest son, should we be blessed with one in that time, would become the Viscount Morpeth in my place and all daughters already born would be provided for already according to the settlement's minimum terms. The only complication which would then arise would be whether our eldest son honours the settlement and gives a second son the named estate or if the second son would take the place of the third son and the third son would then receive the same as any other younger sons."
Mr Heywood nodded at this and continued. "You are very fortunate to be in such a position. Regardless of all that however, Charlotte has a dowry of £7,000 which shall come with her into your marriage. The sum will need to be stipulated. Now, there was mentioned allowance provisions for younger sons. What will be their allowance after reaching their majority? And what of the daughters?"
George proceeded to inform Mr Heywood that they would receive the £600 from the time they are of an age to start their schooling until they are one and twenty at which time they would gain control of the interest of the fortunes set aside for them. This was with the exception of the eldest son who would be given control of the same estate the Viscount currently held and would be expected to live within the means granted by that estate which was something near £4000 in income each year.
The daughters would have pin money in the range of £100 to £150 pounds until their entrance into society when this would increase to £200 and they would each be entitled to that allowance until they married or reached their eighth and twentieth birthdays.
"Very good, very good. It seems that all is in order and I can hardly do much else but wish you both the greatest happiness." Mr Heywood offered his hand to the Viscount and the two men shook on it.
Author's Note: Whoaa... Longest chapter yet at over 4,700 words! I'd love to hear your thoughts so please do review and share them with me!
