Nancy gave every indication of returning his affections. Whenever the two were separated for even a few days they would pen personal and increasingly lengthy notes about nothing in particular. A new letter had arrived from Nancy only the day before, by way of her close friend and confidante, Lady Julia Townshend, who sometimes acted as a messenger between the two. No one but Kenneth knew what the letter had said. It must have pleased him well, however, for he had answered it immediately and had been in remarkably high spirits ever since.
“Do you perchance have any idea where Father is?” Kenneth asked as he studied his reflection in the mirror near the fireplace. He noted his strikingly wavy black hair and soft brown eyes that radiated a sense of reassurance. “I should like to speak with you and him in private before I leave.”
His mother, sensing a tone of urgency in his voice, hurried upstairs to fetch the Duke. Priscilla murmured a few words about needing to practice the clavichord and excused herself from the room.
Presently the Duchess returned, her husband following her. He was wearing a Chinese silk jacket and a pair of corduroy trousers of an indeterminate hue. Somewhat out of breath, it was clear from the uncertain pattern of his gait, and the pained look on his face, that his war wound was bothering him again.
“Are you alright, Father?” Kenneth inquired, as he assisted the Duke into a chair. “Can I get you a glass of claret or some almonds?”
“If you would fetch me my comfortable old slippers, I would be grateful. They are by the fireplace in the parlour.”
“Certainly, Father. I’ll ring for Forbes,” he said, reaching for the bell-pull. “What I have to say can certainly wait a few minutes. I wish you to be as comfortable as you are able.”
Soon the butler arrived and was sent to collect the slippers. He returned a few minutes later with an old pair of carpet slippers in hand. The Duke drew his breath in sharply as he stretched his legs to slide his feet into the slippers. Then, seated in their chairs at the table, the Duke and Duchess waited quietly with a feeling of growing curiosity.
Kenneth cleared his throat.
“I hope you’re prepared for what I’m about to say.” He seemed both anxious and giddy at the same time, like a man approaching the end of a joke who could barely contain his laughter. His mother studied him shrewdly. She had an inkling that she knew where this was leading.
“It was never your intention just to go out riding today, was it?”
“Not for its own sake. I have been invited to dine this evening with Lord Hartmere and his family.”
“That is nothing especially noteworthy,” said the Duke. “You seem to spend a great deal of time at Hartmere Hall, especially during the past three months.”
“Yes, that is true. My visits with Lady Nancy have been increasingly rewarding. Yet tonight my aim is different, as I have expressly requested an audience with Lord Hartmere himself for a discussion.”
Kenneth paused for a moment, his eyes moving between his mother and father, noticing their growing anticipation.
“With your consent,” he continued, “I should like to ask his permission to marry Lady Nancy.”
The news should not have been a surprise, yet somehow it was. The Duchess’s face paled and she reached for her husband’s arm. The Duke placed his hand upon hers and smiled as one smiles at news he has long been expecting. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he took out a cigar and lit it. He then exhaled a puff of fragrant smoke and leaned back with a philosophical air.
“You feel certain that he will say yes, then?”
“Oh, no doubt,” Kenneth answered without hesitation. “He has observed us for months, and we have had several meaningful discussions on various topics. I have every confidence that he finds me acceptable and is willing for us to marry.
“This is all good news,” said the Duchess, who had recovered from the initial shock and was now sipping warm water from a cup. “It sounds as if he has been subtly encouraging you in this direction for some time.”
“That has been my assumption,” replied Kenneth. “I do think that he worries, however, because it is my understanding that his, and his family’s, own financial state will not permit a large dowry. He may fear that he should be beholden to us if he is obliged to offer less than is customary.”
The Duke dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand.
“If it comes to that,” he said with a sanguine air, “I will happily accept a smaller sum — or as little as a pound, if it means your future happiness. He and I have been friends for too long to allow something so trifling as a dowry to come between us.”
“I thought you might say that,” said Kenneth, his hat in his hands and his face flushed. He had the look of a man who had only just realised that the dream of his heart was within his grasp. “Do you have any objections?”
His father puffed on his cigar and considered the question thoughtfully for a moment. Outside the rain drummed steadily on the paving-stones.
“I cannot think of anyone better suited for you than Lady Nancy,” he said after a long pause.
“She is certainly a fine young woman,” added his mother. “I would look forward to welcoming her into our family.”
The Duke considered his son for some time.
“There is one comment that I must make, before you leap into the lifetime commitment that marriage is.”
“Yes, Father?” said Kenneth, noting the look of concern on his father’s face.
The Duke glanced at his wife for a moment, then back to his son.
“I do worry sometimes. Not for any failing on your part, but for one of my own.”
“Worry? Why?”
“Almost from the moment you were born, you have been surrounded by luxury.” The Duke placed his cigar in a bowl on the small mahogany table beside him. “There was never any doubt, after Barnard’s disappearance, that you would one day inherit the estate. Your mother and I were so grief-stricken over his loss that we threw every resource at our disposal into raising and indulging you, our only remaining son.”
The mention of their eldest son seemed to cast a pall over the room. Even now, more than twenty years later, no one liked to be reminded of his mysterious late-night disappearance.
The family had awoken one morning to find that the governess, Hester Grove, had fled during the night, taking with her Barnard, a suitcase full of his clothes and his stuffed rabbit, ‘Bun’. For years, his mother maintained that he would return one day, but he never had.
The Duchess looked apprehensive about what her husband might say next. She turned to Kenneth and said, “We have seen to it that you have had training in language, the arts, mathematics and science, horse breeding, boxing — even a full education at Oxford.”
“Yet you have never had your mettle truly tested,” said the Duke, after he had fetched his cigar and taken a large puff. “As a husband and father, you will need the resourcefulness to solve the complex problems life will supply you in abundance. You will require all this and more to raise and properly protect a family. I sometimes fear that we have not prepared you well.”
“I don’t blame you for that, Father,” said Kenneth sadly. “If the worst thing you ever did was to give me a childhood of perfect comfort and happiness, then I have nothing to complain about.”
His father sighed. “No, I suppose not.” The Duke crushed the stub of his cigar in the bowl. “However, in answer to your original question, I would be delighted if you and Lady Nancy were married. If Hartmere agrees to the match, which I suspect he will, you have my blessing and consent.”
“Wonderful!” cried Kenneth, standing and shaking his father’s hand energetically and kissing his mother on the cheek in a burst of elation. “Now I must fetch my coat from my room or, as you said, I’ll be dripping with rain by the time I reach her house.”
Kenneth strode toward the hallway. Just before he reached the door he turned to face his parents. “The next time that you see me, I’ll be an engaged man.”
“An
d it will be all too soon,” the Duke replied, and together he and the Duchess exchanged concerned glances.
“They really do seem like children,” said the Duchess.
The Duke sighed and nodded his agreement.
Chapter Two
It was dark and a light rain was falling by the time Kenneth reached Hartmere Hall in Fitzroy Square. Nancy, who had been expecting his arrival, stood waiting anxiously at the sitting-room window, holding a candle in one hand. The moment that she saw his carriage pull up to the house, she broke out into an excited grin. When Walford, the butler, escorted Kenneth into the sitting-room she rushed to meet him.
“I received your letter yesterday saying that you would be coming,” she said in a breathless tone. “But when I got up this morning the clouds were so thick over the house — and then it started raining...”
“Well, you needn’t have let it worry you,” said Kenneth, following her further into the room. “It would take much more than a mere storm to keep me from coming to you.”
“I’m so pleased to hear that,” said Nancy quietly. She took his silk hat and Ulster coat and handed them to Phyllis, her lady’s maid, who hung them up on pegs in the hallway. “A storm has never delayed you before.”
“Nor will one ever. When someone is as irresistibly drawn to another person as I am to you, no amount of fire or flooding could stop them.”
“Yet I understand that you are here to speak with my father,” she said, leading him over to the white marble fireplace, in front of which lay a pair of brightly coloured velvet cushions on a divan.
“Yes. I have something of great importance to discuss with him,” he said, his eyes attempting to conceal his true intention but failing badly.
“He should be along shortly,” she said with a knowing smile, seating herself upon a cushion. “In the meantime, please make yourself comfortable.”
Phyllis returned and sat down in an upholstered chair across the room. She resumed a knitting project on which she had been working.
Kenneth loved visiting Hartmere Hall, not only because of Nancy, but because it offered such a cosy and secure environment. He could have sat napping in front of the fireplace for most of an entire day while the rain pelted the windows, without feeling any pangs of conscience.
The two sat together in silence for a few minutes, neither one feeling a particular inclination to speak. Kenneth did not mind. At the Parthenon Club and Almack’s, and the various other venues he frequented, he was constantly being enjoined to say witty and clever things. Not so here. It was worth riding half an hour in the rain just to sit beside her.
“How is Priscilla doing?” she asked finally. “Is she looking forward to her debut?”
“She most certainly is. For the last three or four weeks, it’s all she and Mother have been able to talk about. I’ll be very glad when it’s over.”
“It’s an exciting time in a young woman’s life,” replied Nancy. “When I debuted at sixteen I actually cried because I thought I would never again in my life be as happy as I was at that moment.”
“I hope that subsequent events have proven you mistaken.”
“They have.”
She smiled and reached over to stroke his arm gently with her long fingernails, and for a moment Kenneth felt that his own happiness was complete.
Kenneth had spent his entire trip to the house rehearsing his conversation with Nancy’s father. Yet now that he had arrived, the words slowly seemed to vanish into a vapour.
The rain had died down, and Walford had lit a blazing fire in the fireplace. He knelt down on the flagstones in the sitting-room, tending the logs with a pair of silver tongs. Kenneth was lost in the sweet-smelling incense created by the fire and did not hear the Earl enter the room.
“Good evening, Birchworth,” he said.
Kenneth snapped to attention. The Earl stood next to him. He was wearing light-coloured trousers, a black waistcoat, and a cream-coloured neckcloth.
Kenneth stood to face his host.
“Yes, good evening, Lord Hartmere.”
“I understand that you would like a word with me, in private?”
Kenneth nodded.
“Then follow me.”
Kenneth followed Lord Hartmere upstairs, through a narrow wood-panelled passage carpeted with coconut matting and lit at intervals by candles. The second door on the left opened into the Earl’s study. Seating himself at the desk and lighting his pipe, he motioned for Kenneth to sit down opposite him.
“I know that this must be important,” said the Earl, “for in all the time that I have known you, you have never asked for a word in private.”
Although it was not especially warm in the cramped study, Kenneth was beginning to perspire. He reached into the pocket of his shirt and produced a yellow-white handkerchief, with which he dabbed his face.
The Earl suspected that he already knew why the young man had requested the meeting, but he wanted to hear it from Kenneth’s own lips.
“How can I be of help to you?”
“In a word,” said Kenneth, fidgeting nervously with his hands, “I seek permission to marry your daughter.”
The Earl said nothing for a long moment. Instead he sat smiling from behind his pipe, a faraway look in his eyes.
Kenneth began to feel uneasy and wondered, perhaps for the first time, whether he might actually refuse.
“Do you love her?” he asked finally.
It was not the response that Kenneth had been expecting, and he abruptly leaned forward and stared hard at the Earl in confusion.
“Do you doubt it?” The Earl shrugged and tamped his pipe in a small dish.
“Merely a question. Lady Hartmere and I have weathered some terrible storms in our time, any one of which could have destroyed us and split the family in half. We would not have made it through if we had not been totally committed to each other.”
“I can’t speak for Nancy,” said Kenneth, “although she has given every indication of being devoted to me. But for my own part, I can’t imagine ever wanting to marry anyone but her. I’ve felt for some time that it was my destiny to marry her, and that if we were somehow prevented from marrying, there would be no one to take her place.”
Kenneth searched the man’s face to see if his words were having any effect, yet it remained inscrutable. In fact, the Earl seemed determined allow any hint of what he was really thinking.
“There is one matter,” said the Earl in a serious tone, “that I must address.”
“Of course.”
“Strictly in confidence.”
“You have my word.”
The Earl took in a deep breath and released it slowly.
“We have fallen on some hard times. Although we are, at least for now, able to meet our expenses, we may not be able to provide a suitable dowry.”
“Forgive me Lord Hartmere, but I have already discussed this possibility with my father, and even the complete lack of a dowry is acceptable to him.”
A blush spread across the Earl’s face. “That is a relief. The Duke is truly a good man.” He paused then asked, “And you are confident that you can support a wife in a suitable manner?”
“Without doubt. I am the heir-apparent to the Loxchester estate. Even before inheriting, I have been provided with a substantial annual income from it.”
The Earl nodded in agreement. “Then I have but one warning for you, based upon my own experience.”
“That would be most welcome.”
“I know that you are both going to have troubles,” said Lord Hartmere with a serious demeanour and his hands folded on the desk in front of him. “Especially early on in your marriage. Not that I wish them upon you, by any means, but you are very young, and I sometimes think that your parents have shielded you too well against the ‘vile blows and buffets of the world’. Situations will arise that you cannot fathom, and you will find that relationships, once simple during courting, become more complex than you can imagine when married.” Kenneth no
dded his assent and the Earl continued. “It might have been better if you had lived on your own for a few years before seeking my daughter’s hand in marriage.” He shrugged. “Yet I suppose it cannot be helped. Once love is awakened, it will not be kept waiting.”
Lord Hartmere shook his head, and for the first time he smiled. “Yes. You have my enthusiastic permission to marry Nancy, whenever you both feel that you are ready. Our family will endeavour to support you in whatever ways we can.”
“Thank you!” cried Kenneth, resisting a strong urge to get up and shake his hand. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”
Nancy’s father raised one hand as though motioning for Kenneth to calm himself. “Well, I think of it this way — had I refused your request, to whom else would I have given it? As you said, she obviously loves you. She has had her heart set on marrying you, I suspect, for longer than even you realise, and not even the richest and handsomest man in the world could have turned her head. It is either you or spinsterhood, as far as she is concerned. I would much rather she marry you and be happy.”
Kenneth sat back in his chair, at a loss for words. The room seemed to have undergone an imperceptible change in the time that they had been sitting together — the bronze lamp on the desk burned in a blaze of colour, and even the dull wood walls seemed brighter and more vivid.
“So,” asked the Earl, “when are you going to ask her?”
“By the end of this very night, I should think. I don’t see any point in putting it off.”
“Perhaps not.” The Earl laughed lightly and shook his head. “However, in the meantime we ought to be getting down to dinner. The roast will be getting cold and they are bound to be wondering why we have abandoned them.”
Love in the Moonlight: A Regency Romance All Hallows' Eve Collection: 7 Delightful Regency Romance All Hallows' Eve Stories (Regency Collections Book 6) Page 42
