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For the Love of the Gentleman

Page 11

by Hutton, Callie


  The earl nodded. “When Veronica and I were…” He stopped and his face flushed.

  Ash waved his hand. “Go on. I’m an adult, I know what you are referring to.”

  “I loved her very much and had every intention of marrying her. However, when I approached my father, he reminded me of something I had learned as a lad but never thought much about afterward. An agreement had been made between my father and my wife’s father, Lord Stanton, that we would marry. It was a political and financial arrangement.”

  “So? Those things can be broken.”

  “Not without besmirching my father’s honor. He was livid when I told him I refused to marry Lady Annabelle—which is my wife’s name. I walked out on our conversation, but he sent me a note the next day that I was to be cut off from everything not entailed if I married your mother. Every property, every dime.”

  “Then you sold out my mother for your own financial gain.”

  “I had nothing if my father cut me off. Unlike you, who are ambitious and intelligent, I had been taken care of all my life. How would I support myself, your mother, and you, with no money and no way to earn it?”

  “What about when you offered carte blanche to my mother? It wasn’t bad enough that you were leaving her pregnant and alone but wanted her to be your mistress? Your mistress?”

  Stanhope held up his hand. “That was stupid. I knew it before she threw the vase at my head. But I was desperate. I did not want to lose her.”

  He swirled the liquid in his glass and gazed at it. “Of course, I had my punishment. My wife is a shrew and my only son—you—is unable to claim my title. Lady Stanhope was told after our last daughter was born that there would be no more children.

  “Therefore, my father’s machinations ended in our title either going to a very distant relative or back to the crown.” He lifted his glass in a salute. “Well done, Father.”

  Ash hated that he believed the man. And really hated that he felt something more than the disdain he normally felt for Stanhope. The sorrow and pain on his face could not be faked, and from what he’d seen at the art show, his wife did not look like someone he would want to come home to every day. He stood and took Stanhope’s glass from his hand and walked to the sideboard and refilled both glasses.

  Stanhope reached out for the glass and looked up at him with the same blue eyes that Ash saw in his mirror every morning. “I watched you grow up, you know.”

  Ash choked on his drink. “What?”

  Stanhope smiled for the first time. “I tried to send money to your mother on a regular basis, but she always sent it back. She told me when I left her that day that I was to never see her again, and never, ever contact you. As much as it pained me, I had to honor her request since I was the guilty party and had no rights.

  “I learned where you and your mother lived in London, and that she was painting to support the two of you. I knew from the situation that her father had most likely tossed her out. I made regular visits to your house to watch you play and do the things little boys do.”

  More relaxed, most likely since Ash hadn’t pummeled his face, Stanhope smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I was very proud of the excellent grades you received at Eton.”

  Ash’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know what my grades were?”

  “I bribed a member of the school’s staff to keep me up-to-date with your progress.”

  Ash thought back to those days. As grateful as he’d been that Mother could afford the tuition and had the proper contacts to get him into the renowned school, he’d taken quite a few beatings at the hands of the aristocracy’s offspring while there. He’d had two friends who stood by him, which made life bearable, and they managed to get in a few of their own thrashings.

  The two of them gazed into their glasses as silence grew in the room.

  “Seeing you the other night and how well you run your business and how much in love you are with Lady Prudence, I just had to see you and try to explain a little bit about what happened.”

  How much in love you are with Lady Prudence?

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I am not in love with Lady Prudence.”

  “My boy, if that is the lie you are feeding yourself, you will choke on it one day. And from the way she looked at you, the feeling is mutual.”

  “She’s a lady. I’m not a gentleman. She is too good for me.”

  Stanhope shook his head, a soft smile on his face. “Ah, Son. Are you bound to make the same mistake I made? Ignore your feelings and spend the rest of your days regretting it? Don’t do it.”

  “Don’t call me son.”

  After a few more minutes of silence, Stanhope said, “I would like to invite you to my club one day.”

  Ash sneered. “Parade the bastard son around to show everyone how very progressive you are? Won’t your wife object to you being seen with me?”

  “Lady Stanhope has left me.” Stanhope studied his hand. “Much to my relief. She will be residing at one of my estates near the Scottish border. She has been as unhappy as I and was the one to suggest it. I prefer to be in London with my parliamentary duties.” Stanhope placed his empty glass on the table in front of them. “I will be on my way now.”

  Ash didn’t stand and continued to stare into his empty glass.

  “I hope you consider my invitation. I’ll leave my direction with your man.” He walked to the door and stopped. “Please don’t think you’re not good enough for anyone. You are my son.”

  Bloody, bloody hell.

  16

  Prudence looked around her bedchamber and blinked back tears. All her things had been dutifully packed, and she was ready to go first thing in the morning. She knew the decision to escape—yes, escape—to the country was the coward’s way, but for now ’twas the best thing she could do. She had no intention of resuming her life in Society and remaining in London and having to pass Reeves and Goddard every time she went to Bond Street would kill her.

  She also couldn’t stand to hear Mother’s advice on what she’d done wrong with Mr. Reeves, and Papa’s tightened lips when he looked at her. He hated seeing any one of his women distressed, and that upset her even more.

  “Your sisters have come with the little ones for dinner to see you off tomorrow.” Mother stuck her head into the room after a light tap on the door.

  “Oh, Mother. I’m not sure I want to face everyone right now.”

  Her mother moved farther into the room. “Nonsense, you always enjoy visiting with the family.” She shook her head. “It’s daunting how quickly they are all growing up. Did you know Elise’s oldest is twelve years already? Time certainly does fly.”

  “Michael is eight. It seems like only a year or two ago that you gave birth to Papa’s heir.”

  Mother grinned. “Yes, Papa’s heir. He thanks me every day for him. Of course,” she added quickly, “he adores all his girls, but he never thought to have a male child. For some reason, he believes it was my doing.” Even at her advanced age, Mother still blushed.

  “I guess I will have to face the horde eventually. Better to get it over with and then be on my way in the morning.”

  “I agree. Now, hurry up. They are getting restless and you know how much trouble fifteen children can get into.”

  “Mother, the last four are less than a year old.”

  “They cry.”

  “And you love it when the girls hand them over to Grandmother for consoling.”

  “Indeed,” she grinned. “Now, hurry along.”

  Prudence took a last look in her mirror and attempted to tell herself she looked fine when she knew she looked like a washed-out rag doll. Well, there was no reason for her to look any better since the family didn’t care, and as long as she put a smile on her face, Papa would be pleased.

  The noise of children and adults all trying to talk over each other reached her ears as she was no more than halfway down the stairs. As she reached the bottom step, the door knocker sounded and Mason opened the door
to admit Lord Stanhope.

  Lord Stanhope?

  Whatever was he doing here? As far as she knew, her parents weren’t friends with the man. At least, she had never seen them together, and Stanhope was not accompanied by his wife.

  “My lord,” she offered a curtsy. “Welcome to our home.”

  “Lady Prudence, how lovely to see you.” His smile was genuine, and he did not look as confused to find himself there as she did.

  “I believe my family has gathered in the drawing room if you would like to accompany me.”

  They strolled together, Prudence’s mind in a whirl. Before she had time to process Stanhope’s arrival, they entered the drawing room and immediately her gaze was drawn to Ash.

  Mr. Ashton Reeves.

  Gallery owner.

  Artist.

  Lover.

  Correction–former lover.

  The look he cast her was so full of love and—apprehension?—she lost her breath. In an instant, she turned in a full circle to find herself surrounded by sisters, brothers-in-law, nieces, nephews, her parents, and brother, apparently home from school. She groaned, knowing full well what was happening, and who had orchestrated it. “Papa, you didn’t!”

  Ash walked up to her and took her hand, leading her to a chair that sat in front of ten children arranged in a semi-circle on the floor, a look of excitement on their faces. This tradition of having the entire family present when a proposal was made had always been fun when it was someone else. They had even made their Papa go down on one knee when he proposed to Mother.

  But now that it was her turn, she didn’t think the idea was quite so charming. In fact, she wasn’t even sure she would accept Ash. She’d spent enough time crying over him, so why should she make this easy?

  The devil in her grinned and waved a pitchfork.

  As she was expecting, once she was settled, Ash got down on one knee and took both of her hands in his. “I was an idiot.”

  “This I know.”

  He cleared his throat. “I should not have said what I did.”

  “I know that as well.”

  “But I was correct that I am not good enough for you.”

  “Precisely.”

  Ash leaned back, resting on his heel. “Prudence, you are not making this easy.”

  “That would be correct.”

  He looked over at Papa, who shrugged and took a sip of his drink, a huge smile on his face.

  The semi-circle of children covered their mouths with their hands and giggled.

  “Let me try again. I am very sorry for what I said.”

  “So you should be.”

  A sound she was certain was a growl emanated from his throat. She continued to stare at him, a blank expression on her face.

  “I want to marry you, Pru.”

  All she offered at that point was raised eyebrows.

  He dropped his head and shook it. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I love you, Pru, and would you make me the happiest of men and consent to be my wife?” He held up his hand. “Don’t say I know because that’s not an answer.”

  “I know.” At that point she grinned, unable to help herself at the frustration on his face. “Yes, Mr. Reeves, I will marry you.”

  He stood and pulled her up and kissed her like no man should kiss a woman not his wife in front of her family.

  She didn’t care. And the cheers coming from the family assured her they didn’t care, either.

  Ash pulled back and cupped her face as the children climbed to their feet and made their way to the tea tray and helped themselves to biscuits until the parents began to snatch the fourth and fifth ones from their hands.

  She and Ash were surrounded by family members, the men slapping him on the back, and the women dragging her off to discuss wedding plans. Maybe there was a way to shorten the engagement time. She didn’t like the idea of not making love until the vows were spoken.

  She smiled. But then, there was always Gretna Green.

  * * *

  Ash stood conversing with Pru’s brother-in-law, His Grace, the Duke of St. Albans—who had told him to merely call him St. Albans—and glanced across the room to see Stanhope smiling in his direction while he spoke to Lord Pomeroy.

  His father and future father-in-law.

  Ash clasped St. Albans on the shoulder. “Excuse me for a minute.”

  As he walked toward Stanhope, Lord Pomeroy nodded in his direction and moved away, leaving the two of them alone together. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was invited to dinner.”

  “Why?”

  Stanhope shrugged. “I’m not certain, actually. But from what I just witnessed, it looks as though you came to your senses.”

  Ash narrowed his eyes. “Don’t think you had anything to do with it.”

  “Not at all. I was no influence on you all your life, and I doubt I will start now.” He took a sip of his drink, viewing him over the rim of the glass.

  “Mother lied to me, you know. Actually, not lied, but withheld some information.” Ash had no idea why he said that since, although the truth, he felt disloyal saying that to Stanhope.

  Stanhope remained silent, which was probably the wisest course of action.

  After a few minutes of awkward silence, Stanhope said, “Nice family you are marrying into.”

  Ash nodded, as he viewed the hordes of people who would one day soon be his relatives. Children were being gathered together by nurses and nannies. Kisses were shared with their parents, and in general, it was a place of total chaos. Except amidst all the noise and chattering, there was love. An immense amount of love.

  “Your sisters are anxious to meet you.” Stanhope did not look at him.

  “I have no sisters.”

  “You have three sisters. Lady Amelia Blackmore, Lady Sarah Ware, and Lady Elizabeth Yardley.”

  “They have nothing to do with me.”

  “On the contrary. They are very anxious to meet their brother.”

  His stomach muscles tightened. “What are you trying to accomplish here, Stanhope? All of a sudden, I should be the long-lost son and brother and embrace all of you like a starving man views a plate of meat? I’ve gotten along just fine without you all these years.”

  “Much to my regret.”

  Ash snorted just as Mason stood in the doorway to announce dinner. Ash placed his empty glass on a table next to him and strode across the room to find Prudence. They hadn’t had a moment’s peace or spoken a single word since she’d been dragged off by her sisters and mother while he’d been surrounded by the most powerful men in England.

  They all proceeded to the dining room, taking their places, laughing and joking as they settled in. By chance, or on purpose, he found himself between Prudence and the duchess, with Stanhope on Pru’s other side. Would the man plague him his entire life now that he’d found him?

  Pru shook out her serviette and placed it on her lap. Speaking softly, she said, “I’m glad to see you speaking with your father.”

  “Oh, yes. My father paid me a visit the other day. Suddenly, he wants to include me in his life. Hell, he even wants me to meet my sisters.”

  “I would love to meet your sisters.”

  “I have no sisters. And besides you already have enough sisters. You don’t need any more.”

  Pru placed her hand on his as the footmen poured wine into their glasses. “Everyone needs someone.”

  “You are correct. I need you.” He turned to her, so very happy he had seen the error of his ways and she was gracious enough to have accepted him. Although she did give him some problems while he was kneeling painfully on his knee. “You are all I need, Pru.” He raised their joined hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

  “I need you too, Ash. But I also need my mother, father, sisters and brother, brothers-in-law, and my ever-increasing number of nieces and nephews. They are all my family, and they are all there for me. You would be foolish to throw away the chance to have a family of your own who want
the opportunity to meet you.”

  “If our life follows your siblings, we will have an immense family of our own within a few years.” He looked at her with smoldering eyes. “And I can’t want to start.”

  She took a sip of wine, her face nicely flushed. “Remember, whatever your father did or didn’t do, your sisters had no part in it. They probably love the idea of having a big brother. That is precisely how I felt when Elise married St. George. I finally had a big brother.”

  Ash glanced beyond Pru at Stanhope who was conversing with Pru’s twin sister. He felt much more comfortable thinking of her that way instead of Her Grace, the Duchess of St. Albans. Of course, with Stanhope having been part of Society all his life, he had no problem dealing with Her Grace in any way at all. Dukes and duchesses meant nothing to him.

  “Have you thought over my invitation to join me at my club?” Stanhope leaned across Pru and smiled at him.

  Now was when he should end this. Thank him for his invitation and decline. Then let him know before the night was over that there was no need for them to have anything to do with each other.

  You would be foolish to throw away the chance to have a family of your own who want the opportunity to meet you.

  Pru was so smart. Smarter than him when it came to things like love and family. After all, he’d grown up the only child of a bitter woman. He now realized that as much as he loved his mother, she’d withheld information from him that colored the way he’d seen his world all his life. His father hadn’t blithely abandoned his mother.

  It was certainly something he intended to speak with her about when he brought Pru to meet her before the wedding.

  He studied Stanhope and he raised his chin. “Yes, I have thought over your invitation. I would be…happy to accompany you to your club.”

  “Thank you.” The relief and happiness on the older man’s face passed to Ash who wrestled with similar feelings.

  A light tapping on a glass drew everyone’s attention to Lord Pomeroy, standing at the head of the table. “Ladies and gentlemen, let me be the first to congratulate my future son-in-law who has chosen wisely in proposing to my lovely daughter, Prudence. The artist. The very talented artist. And very successful artist.”

 

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