31 October, 18—
Elderby House
17 Queen Square, London

Dearest Isabele,

How happy I was to receive your last letter! It seems just as my spirits begin to dip, a letter from Derbyshire arrives to raise them up again. How good to hear that you have indeed found a new friend in Miss Schellden and that you are yet enjoying her company. To be sure, aside from Lord and Lady Atherton, it sounds as though she is the only tolerable society to be had. Never have I heard described so perfect a lady. As I have said before, her charms must be quite brilliant. What a pity your cousin has taken to making a spectacle of himself. I never expected that his head would be so turned. It is such a shame that his regard is not returned. Perhaps Miss Schellden has left a beau behind in Scotland. To be sure, I myself am eager to meet so agreeable a lady. Let us hope that her brother proves to be her equal in temperament. Knowing your sweet nature, I feel safe in saying Miss Schellden will soon bring you into her confidence and we may satisfy our curiosity over said mysterious brother.

Dearest friend, I cannot begin to express how much I appreciated your words of sympathy, which were indeed superb paired with chocolate. Your words concerning Lord Meriwether were especially comforting. In truth, I have encountered Lord Meriwether again, but it is likely best I begin my account from the last time I saw my cousin Andrew. So much seems to have transpired here in town these last weeks and regrettably none of it very pleasant.

You will surely recall from my last letter that most dreadful dinner with Andrew. Since that unsuccessful evening, Aunt Charlotte has continued to make her displeasure at my involvement in the affair quite acutely felt. I had assumed that she would forgive me given some time, but her ill humour seems only to have worsened with each passing week. As you know, I had once entertained hopes of obtaining some useful information from her concerning the mystery surrounding Andrew. Now, however, the merest hint of my presence elicits a disappointed glance or sigh, and the barest sound from my lips invites lectures on the proper behaviour for a lady. Such circumstances have made it quite impossible to extract any sort of information, useful or otherwise, from her.

I admit I initially was quite puzzled by the strength of her displeasure. I could not fathom why this incident would warrant such treatment when, by her standards, she has forgiven me far more grievous offences in half the time. Furthermore, as I was not permitted to utter two words together before being lectured, I found it next to impossible to inquire as to the reason I was being so punished. Nevertheless, I slowly began piecing together what information I could gather and eventually determined that my behaviour was blamed for Andrew’s lack of communication of any sort with Aunt Charlotte since that frightful evening. Upon first coming to this conclusion, I was exceedingly vexed. Andrew has been known to overreact, inheriting his ability for drama from his grandmother, but I always believed he possessed some sense of proportion. I would have let him sulk were it not for Aunt Charlotte. Considering her state and the fact that I was partly to blame, I saw nothing for it but to contact Andrew myself to explain circumstances and apologize for my behaviour. I reasoned that an apology from the supposed source of the estrangement would reopen relations between the two, though my pride did suffer a small pang having to do so.

However, and much to my annoyance, none of my correspondence received any acknowledgement. It seemed impossible that not a single in my series of letters, each with an increasing degree of apology and a variety of assurances, was effusive enough in my regret to appease Andrew. I had even in one letter pledged to remove myself from the house should he wish to visit! Therefore, since he would not communicate by written word, I decided that there was nothing left to do but speak to Andrew in person. By this stage, my failed efforts had roused my curiosity and my annoyance had gradually been replaced by bewilderment, for it seemed incredible that Andrew would behave like this.

That Andrew would never consent to speak to me of his own accord I thought a safe assumption, and so it was left to me to devise some method of meeting. After some reflection I decided that it was highly likely that the best place to find Andrew would be his club, as that is where he has always spent the majority of his time in town. I was certain that, was I to wait, he must venture out, and on that occasion I would intercept him and have a word. Therefore, this previous week I put my plan into action in hopes that a verbal apology would accomplish what a written one had not. I must also confess I hoped in the process to perhaps learn a scrap of truth about recent events.

Three days I spent loitering about the street belonging to Andrew’s club with not so much as a glimpse of the gentleman. My simple plan was turning out to be quite the disappointment. It seemed extraordinary that Andrew had not once exited or entered the building in that time. On the fourth day, dreading the prospect of yet more fruitless hours of waiting and further feeling my presence was beginning to appear suspicious, I decided more active measures were necessary.

As I stood there pondering what course to take who should appear but Lord Meriwether. So deep in thought was I that I did not notice his advance until he was nearly upon me. Consequently, as there was little opportunity left me to avoid the meeting, I attempted a pleasant smile and hoped for the best. In all truth, I was quite surprised to see him approach since I believed him to still be very upset with me. He offered an almost cordial if tad stiff greeting that I returned in what I can only hope were warm tones. When he inquired as to my purpose, I hesitated but a moment before explaining briefly what I had been doing in the street. It seemed pointless to concoct some artificial story, for I knew that any information I conveyed would soon reach Daniel’s ears and no tale I spun would fool him. I did try to keep any details to a minimum and said only that I was waiting for Andrew and wished to speak to him most urgently. Well, of course Lord Meriwether inquired further about the matter, and I elaborated that I must see Andrew in order to apologize for a matter in which I had spoken out of turn. My lord at this point grinned and stated he quite knew about my speaking out of turn. This jesting took me aback, and I wondered what had so altered his disposition since last I had encountered him. My lord then delivered a final shock to me by offering to lure Andrew out so that I might speak to him.

I could not believe my good fortune and immediately accepted Lord Meriwether’s generous offer, thanking him sincerely. After responding that he was most likely helping Daniel as well as myself, for he guessed that he was saving me from some scandalous action, my lord entered the club. Some few minutes later he exited and reported to me that Andrew had not been seen in several weeks and it was generally thought that he had left London. I was astonished. If I had suspected something before, it is nothing to what I fear is going on now. For Andrew to abandon his club! I cannot even fathom what would have caused him to take so drastic an action. I cannot think what he must do with his time if he is not at his club.

I was quite agitated upon hearing the news of Andrew, and Lord Meriwether apprehending my distress, attempted to calm and assure me. As we stood in the street making a spectacle of ourselves, Lady Beatrice joined us with her companion who I learned was Lady Rackham. At their arrival it became Lord Meriwether rather then I who was in need of calming. I have never seen my lord turn quite that red. Though were a lady to fawn over me in the manner in which Lady Rackham proceeded, I too might turn such a shade. Furthermore I fear I cannot say I was pleased to make Lady Rackham’s acquaintance nor she mine. Upon being introduced, that lady made a very badly veiled reference to the connections of my father.

I might have at the moment uttered something frightful in return, for you know me too well to think I could hold my tongue, but was saved by a most curious sight. For at that moment Lord Hawthorne exited the club and who should be by his side but Mr Forster. I think I must have gaped for Lord Meriwether inquired as to what had startled me. I excused myself immediately and set off down the street in time to see Lord Hawthorne and Mr Forster leave in a carriage together. It seems too much to think it a mere coincidence that those two should just happen to exit Andrew’s club. Furthermore, I think it a fair conclusion that they must have some close relationship, but how or why I cannot rightly say yet.

Your cousin’s description of Mr Forster paints a quite unassuming picture of the man, but he seems to prove himself to be just the opposite by his actions and society. Perhaps fortune will smile on us and Lord Atherton will have some insight.

In the meantime, I am still eagerly awaiting the arrival of my Cousin Benjamin. He will no doubt prove a less vexing distraction than this Carsely Mystery or Lord Meriwether. But I have gone on too long and am in need of more stories of the country. They seem the bright spot in all this muddle. Until them, I am,

Yours, &c.
Maria Westmore

26 October 18—
Haddon Hall, Derbyshire

Dearest Maria,

You are too kind, my friend, to say I am over-harsh in judging myself. Indeed, your thoughtful words have rather shamed me anew: I had ought to have shared my experiences in Town long ago. You are too dear a friend for me to hoard confidences, and I can offer no excuse for my behaviour but that I disliked the memory of those months rather too well for my own good. Do not apologise for drawing me out on the subject, especially as you have done so most unwittingly. Be assured I have benefitted by the sharing of it and allow me to thank you again for your kindness and forebearance with your rather provoking friend.

Allow, as well, this rather provoking friend to comment on your most recent letter: good gracious, what a muddle! As though the Lord Meriwether Situation was not difficult enough, now there is the Carsely Mystery darkening more and more every moment. Maria, I hardly know what to say! Regarding Lord Meriwether, your brother does seem to be much in the wrong, I agree. Even so, I must stand by the sentiments expressed in my last letter. It is Very Bad of my lord not to make any effort to resolve the awkwardness between you, especially as you cannot help but meet in Town.

I am not insisting, sweet friend, that you ought to be angry with him, only please realise the burden of this difficulty is not yours to bear. You cannot resolve it unless Lord Meriwether approaches you! He has not. For which I am quite angry, I confess. How I wish I might lift your spirits on this issue. Instead, I can only offer these words, a listening ear, and my sympathy. I hope your friend ceases his foolishness soon, dearest, and in the meantime, perhaps you might confine your thoughts as best you can to the other muddle in your life.

After reading your descriptions of dinner with great aunt Charlotte, I must declare myself more confused than ever! Plainly, your cousin has no skill at subterfuge—his excuse as flimsy as that slovenly disguise—and so we must conclude that Something Important is indeed going on between himself and Mr Forster. Judging by your brother's reaction to their meeting, we must further conclude that this Something Important is rather out of the common way. Yet, there is still the matter of Mr Forster's encounter with the Aesthete. You told your brother of this, I recall, so the question remains, does he think it relevant to the Gardiner-Forster situation? Further, if he does, pray remember that in that instance it was Mr Forster cringing at Lord Hawthorne's displeasure! Does this mean that Lord Hawthorne is at the heart of our Something Important?

Maria, you fall deeper and deeper into these matters, and I cannot help but worry for you. All the same, I also cannot imagine you standing away from such worrisome family tangles. If you must pursue the Mystery, pray enlist your cousin Mr Swift. I wish I might be there to assist you myself, but perhaps I might be more helpful where I am.

I have taken the liberty of asking my cousin if he knows anything of Mr Forster. Fortunately, he was distracted by the thought of seeing Miss Schellden soon and thus condescended to actually respond. Forster, he said, is a 'pleasant-enough chap' of four-and-thirty, fond of Society and the usual tonnish pursuits, unexceptional really in both lifestyle and history. Of course, Cousin George explained that he is not a member of Forster's set, and so knows very little of the man. After some thought, I've come to the conclusion that I might inquire of Lord Atherton, who is closer in age to Forster, for further information. We are not as yet on such easy terms that I might simply ask, but in the course of my many years as an earl's daughter, I have learned some skills. I shall try to make use of them when we attend the dinner party at Therton Grange this evening.

As I am certain you will have guessed, today's has not been our only visit these past weeks. Cousin George continues as infatuated with Miss Schellden as ever. Indeed, he is making such a cake of himself that Nell has taken to relentlessly commandeering my cousin's attention whenever we pay a call. As for the calls they pay us, why they never seem to fall on a moment when Mr Barton is at home! I imagine this means the lovely miss does not return my cousin's interest, but she has not confided such to me.

Our friendship has continued, even so, and I must say I am still finding her very pleasant company. She is quiet, even a jot shy, but her conversation is interesting with much ease of address. It is only rather difficult to persuade her to discuss herself. So far, I have managed to discover that she detests needlework—sensible woman!—prefers walking to riding—which I can understand, if not agree with—loves the country—I am sure you know my thoughts on this bit of news—and thinks herself merely a mediocre musician. As I have written you before, I thought her quite formidable in this area, having heard and admired her performance on the pianoforte, a skill which I have not at all. But Miss Schellden insists her voice is weak and her playing nothing to that of her brother's.

This, dear friend, is the only information I have on Mr Schellden. If his sister is reluctant to talk about herself, she is utterly incapable of elaborating on him. I only managed this little bit by a slip of Miss Schellden's obedient tongue. When I exclaimed, all delighted, 'Your brother plays the pianoforte!' she merely nodded and immediately turned the subject. I believe that as she becomes more comfortable with me, she might drop another glimpse or two of this brother, but I must say I hope she finds me comfortable soon! I am become very, very curious.

No doubt you are laughing now, imagining your silly friend pinning her matrimonial hopes on an absent, mysterious man whose name we both find familiar but cannot recognise. And truly, you know me far too well! I try very hard, my dear, to rein in my romantical tendencies, but I never quite manage to succeed. And well you know, I am absent prospects in the neighbourhood—as the assembly held at last in Rowsley only proved. And after my experience last Season, you can imagine how little I am looking forward to hunting the ton once more for a suitable parti. If this Mr Schellden is even a fraction as pleasant as his sister, I should be very happy indeed.

Only imagine both Cousin George and myself riding everyday to worship at our loved ones' feet! Two cakes a'horseback!

And now that you are laughing again, I shall leave you,

As ever,
Isabele Fitzwalter

13 October, 18—
Elderby House
17 Queen Square, London

Dearest Isabele,

I confess myself most affected by your last letter. How you can bear to correspond with me following my light manner regarding Lord Hawthorne, I do not know! It is yet another example of how fortunate I am to have so steadfast and understanding a friend as you. However, you are over harsh in judging yourself! Indeed, it is I who should beg your forgiveness! I am most honoured that you chose to share with me so dear a confidence, but how I regret forcing you to relive that dreadful encounter. Please know that were it in my power, I would spare you any hurt caused by the remembrance. Poor excuse that it may be, I can only say I had no notion of the strength of your feelings against Lord Hawthorne. It is only now that I see your strong dislike is harboured with good reason. One is hard pressed to find my lord amiable under ordinary circumstances, to tolerate him under the circumstances in which you met would be quite impossible.

You can be sure that from this time forward Lord Hawthorne will get nary a drop of sympathy from me. Still, it is curious that he made no mention of your first meeting at Lord Carsely’s party. Surely this is a most unusual state of affairs for one who enjoys describing in detail to others such inopportune occurrences. Perhaps you have in some measure managed to disconcert him. I know it may provide little comfort, but rest assured that to disconcert the Aesthete is indeed no small achievement. Many great men and women have tried and failed to accomplish such a feat.

Nonetheless, it appears you are enjoying your time in the country. With the newly arrived company, the days are sure to be much brighter, no matter what the weather. Moreover, it seems the marvellous Miss Schellden has ensnared your cousin. I declare myself astonished! There can be no greater testament to her charms than that she has caught the eye of the proper Mr George Barton. Yet, I must ask else perish from curiosity, does Miss Schellden return the interest? It seems that such an event would be quite fortunate, especially for you, my dear friend. Why, simply imagine the number of rides you would be obliged to take! In any case, I am pleased for you and your cousin.

In regards to the name Schellden, I still cannot place why it is familiar. I do not believe I have ever met Mr Neil Schellden, though I suppose it is possible that I heard reference to his name. It is no matter for I am sure that it will eventually return to me. Were Daniel and I presently on better terms, I would immediately question him about Mr Schellden. However since that disastrous evening at the opera, our relations have been strained.

I fear Lord Meriwether is not solely responsible for the incident of the other night, and the majority of the blame belongs squarely on Daniel. I am sure that Daniel led Lord Meriwether to believe he would be alone in the box, and he most certainly neglected to inform me my lord would be in attendance. Needless to say I am still furious with Daniel. Though aware his intentions were good, I cannot yet forgive him for his manipulations.

In truth, it is not Daniel’s actions, but Lord Meriwether’s extremely negative response to the unexpected encounter that has caused my spirits to plunge. Were he not still exceedingly angry, I believe my lord’s behaviour would have been correct in all aspects. His lapse only serves to prove he is still very unhappy with me. I am wary of contriving meetings for I do not want a repetition of the opera, and there is little I can do if he is unwilling to speak with me. Oh Isabele, I am beginning to despair that things will ever be set to rights! Had I but known this would be the state of affairs, I believe I would have declined to go abroad. I did not think I would be so strongly influenced by Lord Meriwether’s displeasure, and I confess myself vexed with being so affected. Still, knowing I have your support has been a great comfort. You are the only one I feel I can speak openly with concerning this matter.

I have been using what I have christened in my own mind the Carsely Mystery as a distraction from Lord Meriwether. My cousin Andrew was indeed present at dinner last week, and dressed as his usual self. The only things marring his appearance that evening were large, dark circles under his eyes. Of course Aunt Charlotte noticed immediately and began pestering him about his nocturnal habits. Andrew put up a very solid front and forestalled any questioning into his lack of sleep by declaring that he had lost no sleep at all. The circles under his eyes were announced to be an illusion of the lighting. It was indeed difficult for Aunt Charlotte to dispense advice for a problem that was proclaimed not to exist.

I must say directing the conversation toward Mr Forster was quite an achievement for me. Between Aunt Charlotte’s verbal acrobatics and Andrew’s persistent silences, I could conceive of no way to bring his name subtly into the dialogue. In the end I resorted to fabricating an encounter with Mr Forster in which he inquired after Cousin Andrew. I realized too late this was a most imprudent strategy, as Andrew’s reaction was very pronounced. He became extremely pale, making his eyes appear even more sunken, and attempted a posture of nonchalance to cover his shock. He stammered out a denial of ever being acquainted with Mr Forster and could not understand for the life of him why Mr Forster would be asking after him. Well, as you and I know, this was an outright lie, but I could not expose it without disclosing my own actions.

Following Andrew’s false statement, everyone had questions concerning my meeting with Mr Forster. There was very little I could say as there had been in actuality no encounter. From Daniel’s expression, I knew a serious discussion would be following later that night. Andrew did not recover from his shock at all well. I do not think he ate anything after the name Forster was uttered, and an attempt to turn the conversation to horses failed miserably as well. Cousin Andrew then excused himself, almost rudely, claiming a prior appointment. Aunt Charlotte was very put out and blamed me for his abrupt departure for which I cannot fault her. I would never have dreamed the name Forster would produce so severe a reaction. After that display I can only conclude that his troubles must be far more complicated then gambling away his inheritance.

Once Aunt Charlotte had exhausted all possible reprimands of my actions that evening, I was led by Daniel into the library and immediately questioned as to why I had lied about Mr Forster. Daniel has always possessed an uncanny ability to detect falsehood, and I fear he is particularly good at deducing when I am being less then honest. Consequently, I confessed that I had witnessed a meeting between Andrew and Mr Forster. I felt sure he would call me silly and accuse me of imagining dramatic plots for situations that had simple explanations. To my amazement he did not say anything, did not even reprimand me for gallivanting about town, but sat quietly for several minutes with a deep frown upon his face. When I finally ventured to make a sound, he looked at me as if he was surprized that I was still sitting there. Upon asking his opinion of why Andrew had behaved the way he had, Daniel replied that he did not know and commanded me to mind my own affairs.

Well, after what he had contrived at the opera and then ordering me to mind my own affairs, I could hold my tongue no longer. I told Daniel exactly what I thought of his treatment of me. I know that he must have felt guilty because he offered no defence or retort to my outburst but instead excused himself and left the room on some pretext. So it seems I will get nothing from Daniel and I must now turn to Aunt Charlotte. You are indeed right that it would be most useful to know what she disclosed to Daniel. I think perhaps that will be my next task as I am, after all, with her for a great part of the day. There must exist some way to induce her to reveal what she knows about Andrew.

It may also prove useful to learn more about Mr Forster. Following the events of these past weeks, I have not accompanied Daniel on many of his evenings out. It seems I will have to cultivate more of my own connections if I am to interact with Society. How odd that after years of attempting to avoid Society, I now seek it out.

But I shall end this correspondence on a more agreeable note for it seems my cousin Benjamin Swift is back from sea and has decided to spend a few weeks in Town. After estranging myself from most of those around me, it will be lovely to see a friendly face I have not yet upset. The only thing more pleasant would be to see a certain face from Derbyshire. Until then I am, as always,

Fondly yours,
Maria Westmore

6 October 18—
Haddon Hall, Derbyshire

Dearest Maria,

Although I should like to say ‘twas the weather made me out of reason cross, I am afraid the fault lies entirely in me. My last letter was inexcusably ill-mannered and not in the least deserving of the wholly civil reply I received. Pray forgive me, my friend, for what I wrote in regard to your acquaintance with Lord Hawthorne. It was not your meeting him nor even your even-minded assessment of his person which roused my hard words. Nay, it was not you at all! Rather, all required to wake my bad temper was the merest mention of his name.

I cannot quite express the depth of humiliation I felt upon encountering him last Season. From our conversations in Bath, you know a little of what I thought of London and my come-out, but those brief mentions of dislike and discomfort failed to even approach the true nature of the experience. Dear friend, it was awful! Not that I did not Take, for I did, nor that I found myself unable to conduct myself amid Society, for I could, but for all that, I do not flourish living under the quizzing glass of the ton.

All the rules and truths by which I have lived at Haddon Hall shifted beneath my feet in London. Not only was I required to accustom myself to new demands on my behaviour in company, I was also found invariably wanting by my own father. Maria, you have met my papa, you know that despite his being the Earl of Waldgrave he is the most jovial and undemanding creature. As with Cousin George, he has always encouraged my more active pursuits, turning a kindly eye to my every accomplishment. In London, however, I could not do one thing right. So, in truth, I was not under scrutiny solely outside my home, but inside it as well.

Were it not for my aunt Barton, I should likely be in Bedlam even now. She arranged, quite against my father’s decree, for me to escape the confines of Waldgrave House once a week for an early morning ride. Both the groom accompanying me and the hack were hired, as I was forbidden access to our stable, and that dreadful day when I encountered Lord Hawthorne, neither beast was of particularly high calibre. The lazy groom had fallen behind, and I was having a great deal of trouble controlling my mount. Then, as I have said, I was thrown.

I am a superior horsewoman, and it had been a full dozen years since I was last unseated. So, you can imagine how embarrassed I felt tumbling to the ground, and to look up, only to recognize the handsome, aloof Aesthete inspecting me, one lucent, amber eye enormous and unblinking through his quizzing glass. Had he smiled or even helped me gain my feet, perhaps I would have laughed and forgotten the whole matter, but as it happened, he merely stared and stared until my embarrassment notched up into full-fledged humiliation.

I suppose I ought to be grateful no one else lingered in Hyde Park at that hour, else I should doubtless have been an on dit by nuncheon, but all I really felt was that same burning humiliation. I could not make myself go riding again and suffered the last few weeks of the Season exclusively in stifling rounds of calls, routs, balls, soirees, garden parties, and the occasional visit to the theatre or the opera.

So, you see, I cannot find it within myself to forgive Lord Hawthorne, nor to forget my anger. When you spoke of Lord Carsely’s dinner party, all my resentment and fury and indignation bubbled to the surface and, most unfortunately, displayed itself in my letter. I am sorry, my dear, and pray you understand I offer this account not as excuse for my insulting words, but as a confidence I ought to have shared long ago, a confidence commanded by the faithful, honest friendship we bear one another.

In the spirit of that friendship, allow me to express my sympathy for your Skirmish at the Opera. You were obliged to meet Lord Meriwether eventually, I suppose, but for that moment to arrive when neither you nor he was entirely prepared! Saying ‘twas awkward must have been the least of your feelings on that occasion. Still, I confess to being rather disappointed in my lord. As a man, the burden of responsibility for resolving the difficulties between you was his. After all, you can hardly pay a call to a bachelor establishment, well-known family scandals or no! As he knew you were in Town, for surely your brother told him, he should have known a meeting was inevitable and arranged the circumstances such that neither of you would show to disadvantage. He may very well have been angry after your disagreement, but you have been his friend far longer than his adversary!

As difficult as the situation with Lord Meriwether is, at least you have the activities of the peculiar Mr Forster to distract you. Indeed, you might well spend the next several years unravelling that farrago of havey-cavey goings-on. There probably is a reasonable explanation for Lord Hawthorne and Mr Forster’s unusual exchange at Lord Carsely’s, but the situation you observed between Mr Forster and your own cousin is far more suspicious. Is it possible the Very Fastidious Andrew Gardiner might have been in disguise? Or is it just that I have been reading a great deal too many gothic novels on these rainy days? If only you could know what your great aunt Charlotte has told your brother!

In that regard, I am sorry to hear your brother is not at all tempted by matrimony. I quite agree with your believing it less a matter of financial scruple than one of romantic preference, and as such, it is a great shame indeed that he has not met Miss Schellden. She has only improved upon further acquaintance, showing herself to be just as amiable and pleasant a companion as she seemed to be at first. No young men have declared themselves as yet, but then the wet weather has hampered our usual social rounds. Even the assembly meant to be held in Rowsley this week has been delayed on call of muddy roads. As the weather turns colder and the ground hardens, however, I have little doubt that Miss Schellden’s popularity will only increase.

As it is, she is already immensely popular with Cousin George. Whilst the roads are ‘too bad’ for a good ride, they are perfect whenever I propose a visit to Therton Grange. I am sorely tempted to propose visits via horseback, simply to gain a little air. All in all, though, I cannot complain, for his infatuation has provided me with the opportunity to cultivate not only Miss Schellden’s acquaintance, but that of Lord and Lady Atherton.

Lord Atherton is a kind, quiet man of perhaps five-and-thirty who clearly dotes on his wife. And Nell, Lady Atherton, a sweet, witty brunette, appears equally besotted. You would never guess, she has jested several times, that they did not meet and marry until she was a spinsterish twenty-four.

It is through Nell, actually, that Miss Schellden has joined their household. In her childhood, Nell was very good friends with Miss Schellden’s elder brother, Neil, and since her marriage she has invited them several times to visit for Christmas. This is the first year they have accepted, but whilst Miss Schellden came down from her small estate in Scotland, Mr Schellden had business to attend first in Kent, where his estate is located.

I am not sure why the name Schellden seems familiar, but perhaps you have heard of this Mr Neil Schellden? I do not believe I have, but my memory for such details is one of the skills I never mastered to even my aunt Barton’s satisfaction. Regardless, Mr Schellden is due to arrive at Therton Grange after the Little Season, when the ground should be hard enough for hunting. If I do not have more to tell you about him before then, we both have only little more than a month to wait.

I am far more curious about your days in Town, however, so I shall end this letter in hopes you will write me back soon. Until then, I remain,

Yours, &c.
Isabele Fitzwalter

29 September, 18—
Elderby House
17 Queen Square, London

Dearest Isabele,

How pleased I am to hear that the rain has ceased. I can only hope that the improving climate has a similar effect on the neighbourhood spirits. It is difficult enough countering the dreariness of the weather without battling the dreariness of the society. How fortunate that you have good friends nearby to help you contend against wearisome callers. Particularly as they have introduced a new face to Derbyshire, and quite a face it is by your description. Miss Schellden seems too good to be true. It is rare indeed to find someone with so admirable a combination of qualities. I confess I am astonished that she is still unattached. Perhaps by the time you receive my letter, some young lord will already have declared his intentions.

Alas, Daniel refuses to contemplate marriage. He keeps telling Papa that he will give no consideration to finding a wife until he has established himself in his practice. How much time is required to establish oneself, I am sure I do not know, nor do I believe does Daniel. I am of the opinion that it is more a matter of no one capturing his fancy than of anything to do with his practice. Although, Miss Schellden seems a perfect candidate to tempt Daniel's resolve. Her name rings familiar though I cannot place it. How did she come to be staying with Lord and Lady Atherton?

It seems that you are indeed cross with me for not immediately declaring a dislike for Lord Hawthorne. I can only say that I suspect my lord has quite a different manner with those he respects, and I believe a good set-down is just the thing to improve his temperament. However, having experienced firsthand the consequences of not tolerating the Aesthete's ungentlemanly behaviour, I would not advise you to do the same, should you encounter him in Derbyshire. Though, if you are able to do so undetected, that is a different matter altogether. Whilst my lord and I are far from fast friends, I have certainly paid dearly for my lenient attitude toward him. As Aunt Charlotte was swift to inform me, my display at Lord Carsely's did in fact appear in a society column. Fortunately, it was but a mere mention, though you would not think so from the way everyone is carrying on. They well know that an untitled spinster from a family known for its eccentricities and scandals does not constitute anything truly noteworthy. However, I have since received several lectures on ladylike behaviour from Aunt Charlotte, one from Daniel, and two by post from Fredrick. That is too high a price to pay for amusing conversation, and I think it safer at present to discontinue any acquaintance with Lord Hawthorne.

This may prove more difficult a course of action then first I expected, for I think I have witnessed something more to do with the mysterious goings-on of Lord Carsely's dinner party. Just yesterday morning I was about town completing some shopping, when who should I see but Mr Forster. Well, there seemed such a furtive air about him, and recalling his peculiar behaviour at Lord Carsely's, I followed him. I must say, it was far from exciting but rather tedious trailing after him, and I quite confused my maid, Daisy. I was at the point of returning home when at last something of interest occurred. Whom do you think Mr Forster met for tea? My cousin Andrew Gardiner, that is who! I could not believe it! Andrew certainly did look the worse for wear, and in such a shabby establishment, I nearly did not recognize him. Usually, he is quite fastidious about his appearance, but he was not at all his dapper self, for it seems his mind is occupied elsewhere. Whilst adjusting to this shock, I distinctly observed Andrew give Mr Forster a packet, though I could not tell what it contained. Perhaps it was the mysterious papers. Whatever the case may be, the two then seemed to argue before parting ways, whereupon Mr Forster was met by none other then Lord Hawthorne. Unfortunately, I had not the time to continue my surveillance and could not follow the gentlemen. However, Andrew is to dine at the house tonight, and I think I may inquire as to whether he is acquainted with a certain Mr Forster.

I must thank you for your good wishes concerning Lord Meriwether. As chance would have it, I encountered him that very same evening after receiving your letter. Though not as dreadful as I expected, it was still a most awkward meeting. Furthermore, whilst I have no proof, I believe Daniel was behind the incident. A client of Daniel's had invited us to join him in his box at the opera. As you know, I thoroughly enjoy the opera and was delighted to attended. Had I taken a moment to consider, I would have realized that a great music lover such as Lord Meriwether would be present as well. However, in my excitement, I did not think at all, and so during the interval my lord paid a visit to our box. Appearing as taken aback as I, I can only assume he had no notion that I would be present. The conversation was very strained, and my lord departed soon after arriving. Following our disagreement in Bath, Lord Meriwether was very angry with me and I with him. Now my anger has cooled, and I regret having fought. Nevertheless, judging by his behaviour, I fear that my lord may still be upset.

But enough of Lord Meriwether. Aunt Charlotte is calling and I am eager to hear news of Derbyshire. I hope this letter finds you in clear skies.

Fondly yours,
Maria Westmore

24 September 18—
Haddon Hall, Derbyshire

Dearest Maria,

I confess myself surprized indeed to hear your skirmish with the Right Honourable Nathaniel Carwin Griffith, Earl of Hawthorne, Viscount Blys, has left you fast friends with the notorious, loathsome Aesthete! To have spent an entire evening scrutinizing Lord Carsely’s guests, laughing, even turning the Aesthete’s glass against him! ‘Tis rather in the way of a marvel that such a spectacle has not appeared in the society columns. I declare, dear friend, should you wish to spite the dreadfully Inconvenient arrival of Lord Meriwether in Town, all you need do is continue to importune Lord Hawthorne’s Amusing Conversation.

Yet what an intriguing connection, I allow, particularly when Town is so thin of company. To overhear such suspect goings-on between Lord Hawthorne and Mr Forster speaks of intrigues, indeed! Although I believe any intrigues involving Lord Hawthorne would be more in the way of a misplaced treatise on the aesthetics of the human form. Considering the years of research my lord has painstakingly gathered, such a bungle would undoubtedly upset even so iron a control as Lord Hawthorne’s.

And to follow so appalling a tragedy as this with a repairing lease to Derbyshire, you say? I confess myself surprized again! For truly, the country is not nearly so fat with Aesthetic Specimens as Town. Imagine my lord’s difficulty in recovering his vanished data. Perhaps should he find himself near Haddon Hall, I might condescend to offer myself forth as a familiar subject. As you say, my lord does remember me. No doubt he would appreciate viewing me when I am more equal to his height. Perhaps this time, I might endeavour to linger on my feet as he conducts his perusal, with the added benefit of sparing my lord the nicety of gentlemanlike behaviour.

I am pleased to hear you have uncovered the riddle of your great aunt’s health; although knowing it has something to do with your cousin must needs pale in comparison with knowing the truth of that Something. How maddening that superior brothers must also be such superior guardians. Perhaps Mr Westmore might more readily disclose his secrets to a wife? And once disclosed, it should be nothing at all to gently tease the truth from his lady. Perhaps in addition to my cousin we should consider your brother a prospect for rapid matrimony.

To that end, let me tell you of a most delightful girl to whom I have only lately been introduced. The rain has at last abated, but soggy and soft as it has left the ground, our neighbourhood has merely been able to indulge in the occasional social call. Most of these are tiresome indeed, for with the failing weather, local spirits hereabouts sink as utterly as Cousin George’s; last week, however, who should arrive in our drawing room but Lord and Lady Atherton, quite my favourite neighbours. Usually they spend this time of year in London for the Little Season, but Lady Atherton, or Nell as she bid me call her now that I am Out, is newly Increasing, so they have elected to spend the next months quietly in the country.

Not so very quietly as they might, though, for they had with them a girl of some couple years younger than I, a Miss Delphine Emilia Schellden visiting from a small town on the west coast of Scotland. She is undeniably a Diamond, dear friend, taller than I, but with a slender and mature form. Her hair is cropped in the current fashion, falling in thick black curls to frame a face so beautiful even the aforementioned Lord Hawthorne could not find fault with it. For all that, I own I think her eyes her most striking feature: wide, dark-lashed under delicate brows, they are the most peculiar shade of grey, neither dark nor light, with the satin opacity of still water.

I could almost dislike her indeed, especially witnessing the devastating effects those eyes paired with a flash of dimples have on any male within sight, but she is very, very amiable. In addition to being modest, well-mannered, and everything kind, she is quick to laugh, intelligent, a formidable musician, and most remarkable of all, a dab hand at chess. I truly could not have found a more ideal lady for my cousin had I in fact advertized! It is only that I like her so well, I cannot wish such a fate as George Barton on her. Perhaps she would be better suited to your brother?

In any regard, I am to depart directly to return Lord and Lady Atherton’s call and so must bid you adieu. I shall hold further news of them until my next letter so you might swiftly in this one have my best wishes for your encounter with Lord Meriwether. I remain

Yours, &c.
Isabele Fitzwalter

20 September, 18—
Elderby House
17 Queen Square, London

Dearest Isabele,

Oh, my poor friend, helpless prisoner to the rain! And with a companion such as George Barton, particularly in his current temper, the punishment is made double. I shall keep watch in Town for any candidates who are equal to the task of wedding your cousin.

There were certainly none to be had at Lord Carsely’s. I fear all those invited have far too colourful a past, present or future to suite Mr Barton. Truly, there were few ladies present and most of that lot were meek wives. The gentlemen, a description I use somewhat loosely, were of much more interest. The Aesthete was indeed among those asked to dine, though Lord Carsely was the only one bold enough to call him so outright. Those of us less daring were obliged to settle for addressing him as Lord Hawthorne. Here I confess, I too was subject to an apparently unfavourable assessment by Lord Hawthorne and his infamous quizzing glass. He has undeniably perfected the expression for subtle contempt. However, upon request, I was permitted to use said glass to in turn appraise my lord, much to Daniel’s distress. Truth be told, none in attendance were exempt from the most ruthless scrutiny of the Aesthete, and never was there a set who more deserved it. My lord and I spent much of the evening together observing the other guests, for they were without a doubt a mixture of high-sticklers, dandies and rakes, as you so aptly put it. Indeed, Lord Hawthorne made very similar an observation. By evening’s end I had quite a time containing my laughter. Had not Daniel been there to glance reprovingly at me, I would surely have burst out with unladylike giggles. I could not have wished for better entertainment than Lord Hawthorne’s conversation.

It will perhaps interest you to know that before parting Lord Hawthorne mentioned that in several weeks time he will be journeying to Derbyshire. I remarked that at one time I myself had intentions of travelling there. When he inquired to what purpose, I replied that I was to visit with a good friend and mentioned your name. To be sure, my lord does remember you.

I have not entirely decided on my feelings towards Lord Hawthorne for he appears decidedly inconsistent in his manners. I most certainly do not approve of the boorish way he behaved toward you, but it is difficult to loathe one who is so amusing. You will no doubt be vexed with me for not sharing in your distaste for the Aesthete. Though, I do believe my lord is involved in some havey-cavey business. During the dinner party, I was passing along the hall and chanced by a disagreement proceeding in the study. I admit I was intrigued and paused at the door for I heard the raised voice of the Aesthete, which is a most unusual circumstance. I could not recognize the other voices and did not hear much more of the conversation than some references to papers and someone having the devil to pay before perceiving footsteps approaching. I took several hasty steps away before the door opened and out came Lord Hawthorne and Mr Henry Forster, both as pale as the moon. I rather think Mr Forster was quite foxed, as his hands were shaking and his step seemed unsteady. Upon seeing me in the hall, they regained some composure and escorted me back to the main party. I mentioned the event to Daniel but he dismissed it and said it was nothing to do with us. Still I wonder what distressed them so.

However, I have made progress concerning other mysteries for I have also discovered the cause of Aunt Charlotte’s illness. It seems my cousin Andrew is in Town, and has entangled himself in some mischief. She requested an interview with Daniel, but he is being most disagreeable. He will not share any information on what she disclosed to him, save that Andrew is in some sort of predicament. I can only assume that he has been gambling away his inheritance. Though from what I can gather from Daniel’s few overheard remarks, it may be that it is something else.

Oh, Isabele, I can contain myself no longer, and must at last share with you news that has me quite distressed. You will not guess who is in Town! I was out riding several days ago when I believed I glimpsed Lord Meriwether. My suspicions were confirmed that next day when Lady Beatrice called on Aunt Charlotte. I cannot believe that Daniel did not inform me for I can only assume that Lord Meriwether has called on him. I have not spoken to my lord since Bath, and it seems likely that I will encounter him in Town. I am dreading the meeting and do not know that to do. Oh, how I wish you were here!

Now, it seems it is time for me to look in on Aunt Charlotte. I shall pray for a stop to the rain so that you may effect an escape, and hope our next correspondence sees us in more pleasant circumstances. Until then I am

Yours truly,
Maria Westmore

14 September 18—
Haddon Hall, Derbyshire

To my longsuffering friend,

Such disappointment! Delayed yet longer in London! And all for the imagined ills of a Great Aunt Charlotte. I confess I am strongly tempted to sweep along to Town and abduct you, but alas! Mine temper is not naturally resentful and even if it were, the only conspirator I might rely upon to assist me is trapped...by a Great Aunt Charlotte.

I freely relinquish to you every mote of sympathy I possess, but selfish creature I am, I must demand your sympathy for me in return. The rain has finally come, you see, and so I am unhappily trapped inside with a mulish Imogen, a distracted Papa, and Cousin George, whom I believe to be wretchedly bored and with whom I might feel in charity were it not that his favoured means of expressing this boredom is to deliver himself of several jaw-me-deads each day, all addressed to me! It seems, dearest Maria, that your friend is Extravagant, Lazy, Sadly Lacking Talent, and an Ape-Leader with More Hair Than Wit. I should laugh, were I not so terrifically bored myself that I can only be furious! Perhaps, as you suggest, I ought to see about finding him a wife. Some puritanical, industrious young chit who can compose opera and beat my cousin at chess. I shall have to advertize for such a paragon, I fear.

But do tell me about your dinner at Lord Carsely’s! I am indeed familiar with his favourite Society. Such a mixture of high-sticklers, dandies and heartless rakes would make any dinner party entertaining, I should think. Was the Aesthete there? I believe Carsely adores him, but for me I confess a more disagreeable man I do not believe I know!

He was strolling about Hyde Park one morning last Season when I had the misfortune of being thrown from my horse. I crumpled all in a heap not two feet in front of him, but instead of helping me to my feet, he raised his quizzing glass and examined me from toes to curls as I, blushing red as my ribbands, frantically tried to set my habit to rights. Such disdain! I am sure I know what he decided: a neat ankle, tolerable teeth, cheekbones unfortunately high, mouth disastrously large, most unfashionable fair hair, and that bosom, faugh!

I hope you, dear friend, have avoided such a cruel appraisal and remain, as ever,

Yours, &c.
Isabele Fitzwalter

9 September 18—
Elderby House
17 Queen Square, London

Dearest Isabele,

Indeed, I did encounter your cousins in Regents Park, though I was quite surprized to come upon them in Town at this time of year. No doubt it is due in part to Christina’s upcoming nuptials. I can most certainly understand why you would not wish Christina on anyone in her present condition. Fortunately, or perhaps not quite so fortunately, I have become much practised these last years in conversing with those in her situation. I felt quite up to the challenge of calling on your cousin, though I would never express it so to any but you.

I too was sorely disappointed at my delay. It further saddens me to write that I shall almost definitely be delayed several more weeks. When my great aunt Charlotte decides that she is ill, no one, be they doctors or dear friends, can persuade her to believe she is otherwise. Once she reaches such a state there is no telling how long she will remain indisposed. As I was her companion this past year abroad I feel it my duty to stay by her side and provide what help I can.

However, Town still proves diverting despite my aunt’s illness and the slight discomfort of the heat. I fear after being abroad, I am simply grateful that it is not hotter. Much of my free time of late has been devoted to helping Daniel entertain his clients as well as being entertained by them. Tonight we have been asked to dinner by Lord Carsely. You are of course familiar with the type of society with which he associates. I expect it to be quite a lively party, though Daniel says I should not be so excited for I will only be disappointed in the end. According to him, people are rarely as interesting in person as they are in rumour. I know he is right, but I cannot help but hope.

Older brothers, or in your case cousins, are ever the same when they gain responsibility and begin thinking sensibly. I still remember Fred’s behaviour once he began assisting Father. For months, he and I barely spoke but to argue where once we spent whole days riding in the countryside. I must say my own brother’s disposition is much improved upon his marriage. Perhaps a suitable wife would be the means by which to convince your cousin?

I shall have to conclude this letter as I must begin preparing for this evening. If I am but a minute late, I will have to face Daniel’s wrath. I wish you patience and sympathy in dealing with your cousin and am, as always,

Fondly yours,
Maria Westmore

2 September 18—
Haddon Hall, Derbyshire

Dearest Maria,

You have, of course, encountered my cousins Barton in Town. Not three days after receiving your letter, the post arrived with a tidy missive from Miss Barton and a shorter, rather splotched note from Mr Richard Barton, both of which included an account of meeting your family walking out in Regents Park. I am sorry, dear friend: Christina in her Present State, I should not wish on anyone! And to hear you are delayed in your departure! I am doubly sorry; I would say grieved, but Cousin George paces nearby and I dare not take the chance he should read it so plainly. He has taken to lecturing Imogen on her extravagant language, and there is such a look about him that makes me certain he would only too readily transfer his disapproval to myself. Nevertheless, be assured I am indeed feeling grieved, though I should not say it so.

Are you yet enjoying London? Cousin Richard in his letter mentioned his discomfort in the recent ‘dastardly, scorching heat.’ Is the city yet so insufferable? How I dislike Town during the summer! I wonder how your brother manages it. Were I him, I believe I should venture to the country whenever my work allowed, and I would make certain my work did not require me on the most dreadful days of the year.

The weather here has been lovely, pleasantly cool and fair most days. I suppose the gardens begin to long for rain, but I do not joyfully anticipate the end of my daily walks and rides. It is so stifling being ever indoors, especially when I have not been able to gain a sure answer from Cousin George about this year's hunting. Now that he has taken over some of the estate business, he is so flat. He is ever and always jawing on about propriety-this and manners-that. As though I am so very Improper A Lady! I should never have learnt to shoot were it not for him and Aunt Barton. I should never have learnt to climb trees nor even ride so well were it not for him. He rather caused than encouraged such behaviour and now he frowns and shakes his head at even the mention of it. Provoking man!

Yet I shall not change tree branches for the keys of Mother's pianoforte; nor will a paintbrush ever supplant my rifle. I am full young, Cousin George tells me, to be so decided in my tastes, but there it is. I shall only ever play when I am forced to it, and I shall only sketch when it is for such dear friends as you. I simply must find a means of convincing my cousin. It does not look to be easy, I am afraid.

This letter does begin to drag on and I shall have to finish it soon or risk Mr Smythe leaving without this included in the post. I am also to accompany Papa and Cousin George to call on some of the tenants shortly, so I suppose I must conclude. Do enjoy London as you can and I shall try to endure Haddon Hall without you until you arrive.

In hope that such a day will be soon, I remain,

Yours, &c.
Isabele Fitzwalter

27 August 18—
Elderby House
17 Queen Square, London

Dearest Isabele,

Imagine my delight at receiving your letter. How is life in the country? I hope all is well with you and your family. Whilst I did thoroughly enjoy my stay at Bath, it was just not the same after your departure. The decline in amusement was no doubt directly related to your absence.

It will come as no surprize to you, then, that shortly after receiving your letter, I accompanied my brother Daniel back to London. I must say it is very pleasant to go about my errands in Town without the burden of meeting with all of society. Despite the necessary obligations one must uphold, I have found many diversions to fill the days, though nothing quite so entertaining as our talks.

I thoroughly enjoyed your lovely sketches. It was most kind and thoughtful of you to send them. They have done what I thought impossible by increasing my anticipation of the upcoming visit to Derbyshire. We will be walking in gardens together again before long, for it seems likely that I will arrive soon after this letter. In the meantime, I too will attempt patience.

Fondly yours,
Maria Westmore

14 August 18—
Haddon Hall, Derbyshire

Dearest Maria,

I hope this letter finds you and your family in good health. Are you yet enjoying Bath? I am returned safely to Haddon Hall and although I am glad to be walking my home's gardens again, I find it provides not nearly so much diversion as walking Bath's Sydney Gardens with you. You shall be walking our gardens and our house with me soon enough, though, so I suppose I ought to be patient. As you certainly know, however, patience is not my strongest trait.

Since you have not been to Derbyshire, and since I am bursting to again enumerate all the near landmarks and towns, I have included a handful of small sketches. This way, you can see a little of my dear county rather than read about it.

Over and over I tell myself you shall be visiting in little more than a month, but each day passes more slowly. Enjoy my little sketches, dear Maria, and remember your impatient friend with pity.

Always, &c.
Isabele Fitzwalter

Monsal Dale ~ Froggatt Edge ~ Grindsbrook Clough ~ Castleton ~ Kinder Scout