Page 37 of Tempting the Earl
"My lord, it makes your mother so happy. Please, do not begrudge her the fun."
Philip was surprised by Emily's answer. "Doesn't it make you happy, all of this attention?" he queried.
Emily turned wise eyes upon the earl and regarded him with her head slightly cocked. "Everyone likes to be liked," she explained patiently,As though I am a simpleton, he thought waspishly.
She continued, "But it really does seem to me that it is a bunch of foolishness. For example, the gentleman who sent me this pretty bouquet has probably also sent one to Phoebe Featherington and who knows who else, so one cannot take these things too seriously. The countess is so enjoying the attention I am receiving that I cannot find it in my heart to refuse her this fun. Please, do not ruin it for her. She never had a daughter, and her own Season was so long ago.”
Philip realized Emily’s generous heart was potentially going to get her in trouble, and he was being an ogre for begrudging the two ladies their popularity. He decided he should take a hand in the ladies’ socializing and join them at some of the functions they were attending. Lady Clara was delighted to have his escort and was very proud of the picture the three of them portrayed as they attended the fashionable gatherings of theton. Emily, too, began to forget her trepidation in Philip’s company, and they returned to the comfortable banter they had enjoyed before she knew of his association with Edwin. It was almost as though she had imagined that conversation she had overheard.
One excursion, which they all greatly enjoyed, was to the newly refurbished Somerset House. Near Waterloo Bridge, the House held exhibits of British painters and sculptors, many of whom were not yet well known. The earl and his mother loved to watch Emily's excitement as she speculated over which artists would gain fame and fortune, as they wandered among the various collections. It had become quite fashionable of late to enjoy the arts, and there was a considerable crowd of well-dressed and coifed young lords and ladies vying for a position in front of each piece of art. After wearing themselves out Philip treated the two women to a refreshing cup of tea at Gunther's before returning them home to prepare for whichever entertainment they were to attend that evening.
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After much careful consideration Philip had decided that he was still in search of a wife. Lady Maude had turned out to be unsuitable, but he was not going to let that cause him to give up. He sat down one afternoon and compiled a list of qualities he considered necessary in his future countess. He decided it would be appropriate to ask his mother for her opinion as well, and thus broached the subject with her one afternoon.
"Mother, I have made a list of requirements for my future wife, would you be so kind as to review my list and make some suggestions of who you think might be appropriate from the girls you have met this Season?"
The countess seemed somewhat startled by this request. "You have made a list? That seems quite cold, Philip. Don't you think you should look around for someone you feel attracted enough to in order to want to spend the rest of your life with her?"
"No. Attraction seems to be too transient and is likely to be rather messy. But after my last fiasco, I want to ensure more necessary qualities than merely her lineage are contained in my future bride. This way I will be able to find someone suitable and we can grow fond of one another later." Philip knew this was not the way his parents had formed their attachment, but it was common enough in his world. It was high time he found a wife and produced an heir; this was the most practical way of going about it to his way of thinking.
Lady Clara was at a loss for words. But it wasn’t the worst idea he had had. At least this time he was asking her advice. "Show me your list and I will try to give the matter some thought."
Philip handed her the piece of paper upon which he had drawn up his lengthy list of "requirements" and waited while his mother took a few minutes to peruse it.
"Well, my son, it seems you have given this a lot of thought. From some of these things you have listed I think you do not want a very young lady as wife. Level headed and practical – that rules out at least half of the young women making their debut on the Marriage Mart," Lady Clara declared with a small chuckle. She then continued, "Actually, Philip, this list seems to be a detailed description of our Miss Spencer, don't you think?"
"Miss Spencer?" Philip questioned in disbelief. "But she is your companion. One of the requirements on that list is that she be of good family. We do not even know where Emily is from, let alone what her family history is."
"I will agree with you that Emily has not revealed her history to us, but one needs only to spend some time with her to know she must be from a good family, Philip. She is truly a noble woman even if her blood is not as blue as yours."
Philip dismissed his mother's suggestion, firmly determined to ignore his own attraction to Miss Spencer. "You are of no help, Mother. You just think this is a foolish idea. I will find a countess on my own."
After that, Philip joined them at all the parties the countess and her companion went to each evening. Lady Clara and Emily watched in some amusement as he joined in the marriage hunt. It soon became anon ditabout Town that the Earl of Yorkleigh was searching for a wife. All the matchmaking mamas who had given up on him years ago were suddenly introducing him to every young debutante not on the shelf. The countess could not help wondering why her son was so mule-headed that he couldn't see the obvious, that he need not look any further than his own guest room. She understood he would be frustrated by his search for an appropriate bride since it was already obvious that he had feelings for Miss Spencer. But she wisely held her own counsel and sat back to enjoy the spectacle he made of himself. Despite her love for and pride in her only child, she realized it would do him good to learn a little humility and this experience was sure to do that.
Lord Yorkleigh danced and chatted with many young ladies every night, and each day he took a different young woman for a ride in the Park in his phaeton. He found the experience to be entirely insipid, and dismissed each young miss from his list of potential mates. He could not believe how alike they all were. The conversations were all the same:
"Wasn't the party at Lord and Lady What's their Name such fun last night?"
"Isn't the weather quite lovely today?"
"Have you been to see the play being presented?"
It seemed that none of them had an independent thought and if he tried to delve further into the workings of their minds they would turn wide eyes upon him and ask innocently, "Whatever do you mean, my lord?" None of the young wenches ever asked him anything meaningful and while he was sure they had all been raised with the necessary skills to run a household, he strongly doubted if any of them would be able to engage his interest. He was hard pressed to remember their names, so alike were the girls he saw every day. The thought of spending the rest of his days with any of these young women made him realize what a boring existence it would be.
The only young woman whose company he enjoyed was Miss Spencer, and that would just not do. Maybe his mother was right; perhaps he needed an older bride. He cast about in his mind thinking of the spinsters or widows in his acquaintance, but they too just did not seem to fit his standards. Maybe it was futile, and he was beginning to doubt he would find a satisfactory match. He broached the subject with his secretary late one afternoon, as they were finishing up their work for the day.
"James, can I pour you a drink? I would like to ask you something."
"Maybe I shouldn't have a drink, this sounds quite serious," joked James as he accepted the crystal goblet being handed to him.
"It is serious, but you will probably need the fortification," laughed Philip as he downed some of the strong liquid. "I've been thinkingyoushould choose my bride for me."
James nearly choked on his drink. After his coughing fit, he turned watery eyes towards the earl, looking at him as if he had run mad. "Why would I choose the next countess? I would think that would most decidedly be your job, my lord."
"I can see why you would think so, James, but I am quite fed up with trying to choose for myself. All these young ladies are so much the same. They are all varying degrees of pretty and can dance gracefully and no doubt could stitch a houseful of beautiful cushions, but each one is tedious. You know me best; you could make a good, appropriate choice.”
"That seems to be a rather cold way to choose a wife, my lord. Why don't you wait until next Season if none of this year's ladies are to your liking?"
