by Leenie Brown
“And when she discovers that you have not been open with her about your standing?”
Alex let out a frustrated breath. “She has already discounted my success as an impossibility. She would not believe me if I told her.”
“Then show her,” suggested Jonathan. “Take her to St. James.”
“No!” Alex was on his feet. “That place is not fit for a proper lady — at least it has not seemed to be when I have been there.” He paced the length of the room and returned. “Perhaps I should cut my ties to the place. Then there would be nothing to omit. I would be as she declared me.”
“Perhaps the rain will clear,” commented Brownlow causing all eyes to turn toward him. “If the rain clears, then you might be able to go riding. Nothing clears the mind more than a lonely jaunt on a horse.”
Rycroft picked up the conversation. “If you cut ties from His Highness, what will become of you? What do you have to offer my cousin?” He smiled and softened his tone. “Aside from your heart, of course.”
Alex drew a breath. “I have a small estate left to me by a distant relation. An entailment,” he explained. “It is near Brighton, and I do travel to it regularly, but my main residence to this point has been a small house in Brighton. I have not needed to rattle around an estate except to begin improvements to aid in the raising of horses…some fence repairs, a new stable, some slight alterations in the planting of crops, that sort of thing.”
“And you would take that as your primary residence and livelihood?”
Alex nodded. “I have set aside a substantial sum and would still offer my services in assisting gentlemen to find horses to meet their needs, even if they are not mine.” He smiled at Rycroft’s chuckle.
“A well-thought-out plan,” said Brownlow, “except for one thing. Will you be able to sever your ties to the school at Brighton?”
“Perhaps not completely,” said Alex.
“We have considered that,” said Jonathan. He smiled at the surprised looks on Rycroft’s and Brownlow’s faces. “We entered the agreement with the prince knowing that, eventually, we might need an escape.”
Alex clapped his friend on the shoulder. “As I said, gentleman, Lester here sees several steps ahead, making him invaluable.”
The men spent several more moments in conversation regarding horses and plans, hearts and ladies before Brownlow moved to break up the group citing a need to prepare to accompany his sister to her dinner party.
“Yes, I dare say my wife will be wondering what has become of me.” Rycroft stood. “Although,” he said with a smile, “a few more minutes might earn me a scolding, perhaps I shall stay.”
Brownlow shook his head. “You are incorrigible,” he called as he left the room.
“I am not staying,” Rycroft called after him. He moved toward the door and then turned back. “Do not tell her. Arrange your life as if she has accepted you. Present your financial papers to her if you wish, but do not tell her of your connections. If she discovers them, so be it.” He looked levelly at both gentlemen. “I agree with Madoch. Marriage should be based on mutual affection. Do not settle for less.” He gave them each a bow of his head and then left.
“Will you present your papers?” asked Jonathan.
“Not yet,” said Madoch. “If I knew that she still harboured feelings for me, then I might. I do not wish to live my life wondering if she loved me or my money. I am sorry. I know it is not what you wish to hear, but I have seen one marriage too many where wealth was the only thing that both the husband and wife liked about each other.”
Jonathan knew that Alex spoke of not just the many titled gentlemen whom he had met in his position at Brighton, but also of his own parents — a mother, whom he held dear and a father, whom he respected, but from whom he was distant. It was not an unhappy home, but it was not for what Alex wished. “Shall I write Prinny a letter stating a desire to meet?” he asked as they climbed the stairs to their guest rooms.
Alex nodded. “It will take time.” Gaining an audience with the prince was not easy, although, for those on whom he relied for advice and who were directly involved with his ventures such as the riding school, as Alex was, it was not quite so difficult. Still, his majesty moved only when his majesty deemed suitable.
“Have you ever wondered,” began Jonathan, standing before the door to his room, “why she insists on wealth and position?”
“What do you mean?”
“I know why you insist on a love match and why wealth has been of little value to you beyond seeing that it is accumulated to provide for a family.” He shrugged. “Might she have a similar reason?” He pushed open the door to his room and closing it, left a gaping Alex standing in the hall pondering his words.
Chapter 8
Anne excused herself from the drawing room and took herself down the hall and into the library. Closing the door, she leaned against it and expelled a frustrated breath. There were plenty of callers today, and, on paper, all appeared to be exactly what she sought. However, just as on the previous day, this set of gentlemen was as exciting as a long and wordy sermon by her mother’s parson, and that was not what she wished to endure every day for the remainder of her life. She made a circuit of the room, running her fingers along the backs of chairs and tops of tables. Then, she stood in the middle of the room and turned a complete circle. This is what she wanted. A life designed as elegantly as this room and filled with fine things and tales of adventure, nothing extraordinary, but small trips, little visits, friends whose very presence filled you with joy. This room felt safe. This room felt full. The drawing room, on the other hand, though filled with people felt empty, and her footing in there felt as if she were walking on the narrow top of a fence. Her suitors were qualified. They had titles. They had wealth. They were not all insupportably lacking in countenance or carriage, though a few were rather wanting in one or both areas. She shook her head. Why, if they were acceptable, did she not feel as if they were? It was most vexing! How was she to choose a suitable husband?
She was so caught up in her contemplations that she jumped at the sound of a soft knock and the door opening slowly.
“I apologize, Miss de Bourgh,” Sir Hugh stepped into the room and left the door slightly ajar but nearly closed. “I saw you go into this room as I entered, and I was afraid you were distressed. Are you well?” He crossed the room and came to stand near her. “I was sorry to see the rain. I am afraid our drive will have to be postponed. That is what I came to tell you.” He took a step closer. “I also had rather hoped that in place of our drive, you might allow me to spend a few moments with you, reading, talking, or playing the piano.”
“Do you play?” Anne asked.
Sir Hugh blinked. “No…well…yes, but just a bit,” he stammered.
“Then you are far more accomplished than I.” She looked down at the carpet, fixing her eyes on one of the flowers that decorated it. “I attempted to learn, but to no avail. Playing is not my talent.” She glanced up at him and then returned her eyes to the flower. Somehow speaking to a flower was much easier than speaking to the handsome man beside her. “I can sing, but I do not perform.” She flinched as he placed a hand on her arm and then slid it down to grasp her hand — not because it was unpleasant: it was not, but it was startling.
“I apologize if my desire to spend time with you has made you feel uneasy,” he said as he led her to a settee near the window. “I do hope you will not fault me for that. I am willing to do whatever you choose.”
“Why?” Anne arranged her skirts about her as she took a seat. She found her tingling fingers and fluttering tummy to be unsettling, and so before they could disconcert her any longer, she chose to redirect the conversation and keep her hands safely out of his.
“What do you mean?” He was blinking at her in a startled fashion once again.
“I do not like to play games, Sir Hugh,” she said softly. “I find it best to be as direct in my dealings as is acceptable.” She tipped her head to the side,
furrowed her brows and pursed her lips for a moment before adding, “Although I seem to not always know where acceptable ends and forward begins.” She shook herself slightly from her contemplation of that and continued what she had intended to tell him. “I see no reason to make this ordeal anything more than it has to be. I have advertised for a husband. I do not expect a love match, but rather a pleasant business arrangement. I shall serve as hostess and attend to all the duties expected of a wife while my husband will tend to his duty of providing securely for myself and any children. A friendship would be desirable, of course, but I am under no illusion that one must swoon with admiration in the presence of her spouse to have a comfortable and pleasant life.” She folded her hands in her lap. “My desire is not to hear pretty words but to become familiar with you to see if we would suit. You need not pretend to be enamored of me.”
He was blinking at her again. “I do not pretend,” he finally said. “I find you pleasing to the eye, and your forthrightness, while I must admit it takes me by surprise, is quite refreshing.” His eyes swept over her figure. “Very pleasing,” he said with a smile. “It would not be a hardship to fulfill my duties as your husband,” he muttered just loudly enough for her to hear as he took her hand once again.
If he had expected her to blush, he was not disappointed; however, if he had expected her to quietly turn the conversation, he was to be startled once again.
“You mentioned before that you would not take a mistress after you were married unless it became necessary.” Despite the heat flooding her face and the rapid beating of her heart from the anxiety she felt at discussing such an indelicate topic, Anne continued, “I assume that it will become necessary should you find me not satisfying?”
He cleared his throat. It was obviously not what he had expected her to say. “I meant if my wife turned me away.”
Her brows furrowed. Having wrangled as much information as possible from her governess, a young widowed woman who found it necessary to support herself, Anne knew about what happened between a man and a woman. “But a wife must turn her husband away at times when she is incapable of receiving his attentions.”
“I did not speak of indisposition but of refusal when no need for such exists.”
She nodded. The words of Mr. Blackmoore on the balcony about how many men kept mistresses still played in her mind. She did not wish for a husband who would take a mistress after they were married, nor did she wish to be betrothed to a man who currently had one. “One more question, and then we shall put this improper topic away. Do you have a mistress now?”
“I do not see how that affects the discussion of our marrying. Whether I do or do not have a mistress now, I shall not once I marry.”
She pulled her hand from his. “So you do.”
“I did not say I did,” he retorted.
“Nor,” she shot back, “did you say you did not. Therefore, I will assume you do.” She rose to her feet. She knew she should dismiss him as she had Blackmoore, but there was part of her that still wished to see him. It was wrong, she supposed, to be allowing him to remain merely because he was attractive, but she would give it more consideration later. For now, she was going to take the opportunity to spend some time with a gentleman doing something other than reviewing financial papers and listening to family histories.
“I must say it is a mark against you,” she said, turning to look at him. “Not that you have a mistress, per se — although I do not condone it, of course–, but because you attempted to conceal the fact, which is a far more grievous sin.” Her heart pricked at the thought of his perfidy. She should not trust him, it seemed to say, but instead of paying heed to its whisperings, she took a breath and smiled at him. “You are not to be discarded for one error, so if you wish to spend an hour with me once my other guests have left, I prefer poetry about nature to the sonnets of Shakespeare. Until then, Sir Hugh.” She dipped a curtsey and turned to leave, but he caught her hand and rising pulled her into his embrace and kissed her quite soundly.
“In case I am dismissed for some other error, I did not wish to leave without a taste of your sweet lips,” he explained before kissing her once again. “Delicious,” he whispered as he broke the kiss but not his hold on her.
Anne felt as if her legs were about to fail her. Shock and pleasure fought for dominance in her mind. She willed her arms to push away from him, but they would not listen. And so, she remained wrapped in his delightful embrace until a gasp, a familiar, criticizing gasp, caused her formerly unwilling body to move quite forcefully and rapidly away from Sir Hugh.
“Anne!” Her mother stood for a moment looking at her and then with another less critical gasp and a small smile, she turned toward the hall and called for her sister and brother.
“Mother,” Anne took Lady Catherine by the arm and attempted to pull her into the library. “It is not necessary to call for my aunt and uncle.”
“Is it not?” Lady Catherine fairly sang the question. Looking into the room, she added, “He is an excellent gentleman. So handsome. It was very clever of you to arrange a compromise. Wishing to see me, indeed! I should have known you would never call me for some trivial thing.”
Anne was certain her heart had dropped to her toes. “Call you?”
“Yes, yes, Harrison said you wished to see me.”
“I never called you,” said Anne gripping her mother’s arm more tightly.
“Oh, but you did, and you had left in such a haste I assumed you were unwell, but I could not get away from my guests quite as quickly as I would have liked, but then, it seems I was just in time.”
Anne’s mouth hung open as she stared at her babbling, excited mother. “I assure you, Mother, that I did not send for you. I was not unwell. I just needed a few moments of quiet and then, Sir Hugh arrived…” Her eyes grew wide, and her thought hung unfinished as she began to grasp what had actually happened.
“Yes, he did, did he not?” Lady Catherine’s voice was nearly gleeful. “Such a clever girl,” she said. “Sophia, Anne is to marry Sir Hugh.”
Anne shook her head. “No. I am not!”
“Oh, but why else would you be kissing him?”
“Mother, please,” said Anne. “Keep your voice down. Do you wish everyone to know?” She tugged again on her mother’s arm and this time, with the help of her aunt, managed to guide Lady Catherine into the library.
Admiral Fitzwilliam closed the door as Lady Catherine was being seated. “What has you bellowing in such an unladylike fashion, Catherine?” His voice was nearly as severe as the glare he directed at Sir Hugh, who nervously straightened his jacket. “Anne will be marrying no one unless she has my approval.”
“You must give it,” said Lady Catherine. “He has kissed her, and so he must marry her.”
“Do you wish to marry Sir Hugh?” The admiral turned his gaze from Sir Hugh and directed it more softly at his niece.
“I had thought I might, but no,” she shook her head slowly, “no, I do not. He planned this.” Her voice wavered as she tried to contain her emotions. How dare he do this to her? How dare he attempt to take her choice from her?
“Very well,” said her uncle, “then you shall not marry him.”
“But she must!” cried Lady Catherine. “Think of the scandal if she does not.”
“How will there be a scandal?” asked Sophia. “No one knows of this outside of this room.”
“And they shall never know of it,” added the colonel.
Anne shivered slightly at the danger contained in the tone of her uncle’s warning, and yet no matter how foreboding his tone, it was comforting. He wished to know her desires and would see that they were fulfilled if he could.
Sir Hugh must have heard the warning as well because he lowered his eyes and mumbled his agreement. Lady Catherine, however, seemed impervious to the tone or unwilling to comply. Whichever it was, she was not through attempting to see her daughter married.
“There are servants, and we had guests. It is poss
ible that the tale will be spread, and one cannot control how it might alter in the telling.”
“I will not allow the marriage,” said the admiral. “Anne has not accepted any offer. As far as I know, none was made. Whatever tale we might encounter must be refuted as a lie.” He turned to Sir Hugh. “I suspect your welcome as a suitor has run its course. We shall remain cordial unless you insist it be otherwise. Any unwanted advances toward my niece will be counted as an insistence.”
Anne watched the way Sir Hugh’s mouth tightened, and his eyes narrowed just a bit before he nodded and replied his agreement and took his leave.
Lady Catherine threw her hands up in the air. “I begin to wonder if you will ever marry. First, you refuse your cousin and make a spectacle of yourself with an announcement. Now, you allow a man liberties and refuse his suit. And you left several suitors unattended while you did it!” She huffed and flopped back in her seat. “There will not be a proper gentleman in all of England who will consider you if you continue as you have.”
“Catherine,” Admiral Fitzwilliam growled. “Your daughter has taken an unconventional route to finding a husband, but she has done nothing wrong in refusing a man such as Sir Hugh.”
“Nothing wrong?” Lady Catherine harrumphed. “He seemed a proper gentleman.”
“Seemed, I believe, is the correct word,” said Lady Sophia softly. “Not all who appear to be proper are.” She placed a comforting arm around Anne’s shoulders. “It is a disappointment when the truth is discovered; however, we were fortunate to learn of it before connections could not be reversed.”
“I should like to go to my room.” Anne’s head was beginning to throb, and her chest felt tight and painful.
“A rest might help,” Lady Sophia agreed. “You are expected at dinner at Rycroft Place this evening. You would not wish to disappoint Lady Rycroft.” her lips curled into a smile as they always did as she said the title.
Anne knew how happy her aunt was to have added Mary to her family. Anne also knew how happy Mary and her cousin were. She attempted to smile in return, but the tightness of her chest kept her from succeeding.
