marry, I will go with you as your paid companion. You know that. And my plan is to save all my earnings so that I have a small fortune of my own. With money, a woman can be free to do whatever she wants. She does not need to marry. And my only chance of having money is for you to marry and me to become a member of your staff. So I wish that Charles turns out to be personable, and that you and he live happily ever after.’
Rebecca laughed. ‘I too hope for that, as long as there’s a happy ever after for you as well, dear sister.’
What would Charles be like? Rebecca hadn’t seen him for years, and this would be the first time they’d met since she was grown and of marriageable age. She felt strangely nervous at the prospect of meeting the man who was intended to become her husband. While she knew that her father would not force her to marry Charles if she found him truly detestable, she did so want to please her parents. The happiest outcome of the evening would be if she found Charles to be an appealing sort of person, and if the feeling was mutual. She resolved to take extra care with her appearance when she dressed for dinner that night. She would wear her pale green gown. She’d been told it suited her best.
At the dinner party Rebecca found herself placed beside Charles. Sarah was sitting opposite, between Mr and Mrs Winton. It was pretty clear that the older folk wanted Charles and Rebecca to have a chance to get to know each other. Rebecca’s mother sent many an encouraging smile at her across the table.
As the soup was served, Rebecca stole a sideways glance at Charles. He was certainly pleasant enough to look at, now that he was a man, more so than she would have guessed from her sketchy memories of having met him as a child. His hair was dark, his nose straight, his eyes a warm brown. He was reserved yet polite, and when he smiled his face lit up. He looked, Rebecca thought, like a kind and thoughtful man. She smiled to herself, wondering what his first impressions of her were.
‘Rebecca, dear,’ Mama said, breaking into her reverie. ‘I do hope you will play the piano for us later this evening.’
Charles turned towards her and smiled. ‘I should like to hear you play, Miss Winton. There is nothing I enjoy more than sitting by the fireside listening to an accomplished young lady playing the piano.’
Rebecca blushed. ‘Oh, I would not call myself accomplished. Competent, perhaps, but no more.’
‘Rubbish, Rebecca,’ said her father. ‘You are a very fine pianist. Your piano tutor told us so. And the Lord knows you practise enough.’
‘I enjoy playing, that is true.’ Rebecca wished the conversation could move away from her abilities. She glanced at Sarah hoping her friend might help steer the company onto another topic. But Sarah was scowling across the table at her. Rebecca frowned. Earlier she had said she was not interested in Charles, and would be happy if things worked out between him and Rebecca. But now she seemed quite put out that all his attention so far had been on Rebecca.
Rebecca turned back to Charles who was regarding her with a smile on his face.
‘So you will play for us later?’ he asked.
‘Yes, of course. I only hope you are not disappointed.’
‘I could not possibly be disappointed by you. I am looking forward to it immensely.’
‘Do you ride, Mr de Witt?’ Sarah interrupted them.
‘I do, yes. Do you, Miss Cooper?’ Charles answered. Rebecca felt a mixture of relief that her musical abilities were no longer the topic of conversation, and annoyance that Charles’s attention was now focused on Sarah.
‘As often as I can,’ Sarah said. ‘In fact, if the day is fine tomorrow, I think I shall go riding. I shall try to persuade Rebecca to come too. Perhaps you might ride over and accompany us?’
‘That sounds like a delightful plan,’ Charles answered. ‘I shall certainly ride over here tomorrow morning.’ He smiled across the table at Sarah, who wore a faintly triumphant look.
Rebecca no longer went riding, and Sarah knew it. Ever since she’d been thrown from her pony a few years ago, on one of Sarah’s ill-advised escapades where they’d galloped across the parkland and her pony had refused to jump a hedge, Rebecca had been put off riding. She would not be persuaded to go out. Why was Sarah doing this? It was as though she was trying to win Charles for herself despite all that she had said earlier. Perhaps she liked the look of him after all.
‘What do you make of our new queen?’ Charles asked Rebecca. ‘I think she is about your age. Imagine becoming Queen of England at just eighteen! What a weight she has to bear on such young shoulders.’
‘I should hate to be in her shoes,’ Rebecca replied. ‘So much will be expected of her. She will not have a moment’s peace to enjoy her life. Everything she does will be reported in the newspapers.’
‘But she is rich and gets to live in a palace and do whatever she wants,’ said Sarah.
Charles smiled indulgently. ‘I think what Miss Winton is suggesting is that Queen Victoria won’t be able to do just what she wants. She will be expected to perform her duties and be an example to the whole country. She’ll be expected to marry soon, and her choice of husband will be critical.’
‘She’s queen – she can choose anyone she wants to marry,’ Sarah replied.
Charles shook his head. ‘Not at all, Miss Cooper. Her choice of husband will be closely scrutinised and will have to be approved by her advisers. He will need to be someone of suitable status, perhaps a foreign prince.’
‘What if she chooses not to marry?’ Sarah asked. Her tone was flirtatious. ‘After all, Good Queen Bess never married, so an unmarried queen is not unprecedented.’
‘Perhaps she will find someone suitable who meets with her advisers’ approval and whom she loves,’ Rebecca said. She did hope so. It felt a bit like her own situation – being expected to marry but wanting to love the person her parents had chosen for her. She stole another sideways glance at Charles, then blushed when she realised he was looking at her.
‘I hope she does,’ he said, quietly. ‘No one should be forced to marry someone for whom they don’t care.’
After dinner, when the party had retired to the drawing room, the call went out once again for Rebecca to provide some music. She nervously settled herself at the piano, and looked to Sarah to stand at her side and turn the pages of her music. But Sarah was across the room, deep in conversation with Charles, their heads close as they chuckled together over some private joke. Rebecca noticed her mother frown as she saw them together. This was clearly not part of the plan.
In the end Spencer was called upon to act as page-turner. As Rebecca played a selection of Bach arias she lost herself in the music. When she finally finished playing, she glanced up to find Charles gazing at her from across the room, an expression of deep admiration on his face. Sarah, beside him, looked distinctly unhappy.
The next day dawned bright and clear, and Sarah shook Rebecca awake early.
‘Hurry up! Charles will be here soon. Remember we promised to go riding with him?’
Rebecca groaned and hauled herself into a sitting position. ‘You did. I don’t ride any more, as well you know.’
‘But I can’t go with him on my own. It wouldn’t be proper, if just he and I went riding. If we both go, that is more acceptable.
