by Leenie Brown
“And you will not. For I shall not be happy with any woman, who cannot accept that you are my mother.”
His mother shrugged. “Her friends may not be best pleased.”
“I believe she has very few true friends, Mama. Fitting into the right circles is not easy or pleasant and does not make for many lasting friendships.” Once again, he released a great sigh. “She has very few, if any, of those so-called friends left because she chose to be my friend. She will not object to you.”
The sparkle in his mother’s eyes had been replaced with a shimmer of unshed tears, but her smile had only grown. “And who would not choose you, my angel.”
He shook his head as he pushed up from his place. “I have a few things to see to before dinner.” He cupped her face in his hand and kissed her forehead. “I shall bring her around to meet you as soon as I am able. Currently, she is waiting to heal a breach with her brother, but as soon as she is available, I will invite her to visit you.” He kissed her forehead once again. “You are the best decision my father ever made.”
“I most certainly am,” she replied before shooing him away and reminding him not to be late for dinner.
Chapter 6
Mary sat at the worktable in the sitting room with the infant’s gown for the foundling hospital. She was nearly finished with it. It needed only a few more embellishments, something to make it pretty, for, in Mary’s opinion, even those in need should be surrounded by small bits of beauty when possible, even if those bits of loveliness were merely small white flowers stitched on white fabric.
It had been two days since she had last seen anyone other than a few of her sister’s friends. The lack of callers had provided her with ample time to stitch and read. However, being nearly friendless was frightfully dull, and Mary had prepared herself to be just as bored today. So, it surprised her when the housekeeper entered with someone who was calling specifically for her.
“Henry!” she cried in delight.
“Mary.”
He was smiling. This was good. There was a hope that they could restore their friendship.
“Please, please, be seated. I will see that tea is brought straightaway,” said Margaret. She stopped long enough to squeeze Henry’s hand and tell him how happy she was to see him before she scooted from the room.
Mary finished the stitch she had started before her brother had entered. Then she lay her work aside and took a seat near him. After sitting down, she smoothed her skirts uneasily. How did one start a conversation such as this?
“I was pleased to get your letter,” Henry said.
“I meant every word,” Mary assured him. “I know I do not deserve your forgiveness. I have been abominable.”
He placed a hand on hers. “Tell me about Mr. Durward.”
Mary blinked. She had not expected that. “I know very little really. Let me see. He is a friend of Tom Bertram, and he has several ships and a warehouse.”
“He is a merchant then?”
Mary nodded. “He has privateers, but I think he also has other sorts of ships that just carry on regular trade. I believe, he is working on securing a prize ship and her cargo today. I know it was soon to come before the prize court.”
“He is an industrious fellow, then?”
“Oh, very. He was even conducting business at the last ball I attended.”
It was indeed her last ball. She doubted she would be invited to many now, and she was positive that to attend a public ball would be painful for some time.
“Would that be the ball at which Mr. Edwards spoke to you?”
Mary swallowed and nodded. “I have not been to any others.”
“You were looking for me there.”
“I was.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I missed you, and I grew tired of my friends.”
“Tired enough of them to pass them over in favour of new friends?”
He was looking at her in a very intense fashion, which was so unlike the Henry she remembered. The old Henry had always been amiable and far too willing to please both her and himself. The old Henry was rarely serious about anything.
“Yes.” She clasped the hand that held hers between both of her hands. “Mr. Bertram found me after Mr. Edwards had, and what Mr. Bertram had to say left me with no choice but to walk away from all I have ever known. Oh, Henry, I have been such a fool – an arrogant, self-serving, fool – very much like our uncle always was. I will not be like him, Henry. I will not. Even if I do not know how to be anything else, I must attempt to be different.”
“Then you have found your heart?”
“Yes. I most certainly have.”
A smile graced his face as a sigh escaped him. “I had thought you had when I heard the rumors about you snubbing Lady St. James in favour of some gentleman in trade. Mr. Durward, is it?”
“I am sure all of London has heard about that! Sarah is not one to keep such things to herself.”
“At least it was not in the paper.”
“How can you ever forgive me!”
“You are my sister,” he answered in a serious tone, “and I know from your letter and what happened at that ball that you are indeed repentant. However, there is the matter of Miss Linton. You must treat her with the utmost respect if you are to retain my friendship.”
Tears threatened to fall, and for a moment Mary considered allowing them. It would be acceptable to appear weak before her brother. She knew he would not use her weakness against her. However, some habits do not die easily, and so she resolutely denied herself the liberty of tears until later when she could conceal them from view in her room. “I feel my sin most grievously,” she assured him.
“You can bring her to dinner one evening,” Margaret, who had entered with the tea service during their discussion, suggested. “I would be very pleased to meet her.” She turned to Mary. “And we can invite Mr. Durward as well, so that Henry can meet him. He is very handsome,” she added to Henry.
“Are you still attempting to marry our sister off to whomever you find to be pleasing?” Henry asked with a laugh.
“Oh, yes! And I would be doing the same for you if you had not already found yourself a happy situation.” She made short work of pouring the tea and inviting them to join her at the table as she moved all their work aside to the window seat. “Mary is almost finished with a gown for the foundling’s hospital.”
For the second time in not many more days, Mary heard someone speak of her with pride. It was a wonderful feeling.
“Our sister came home just… When was it?” Margaret paused and thought for a moment. “Oh, it does not matter when it was. Some days ago, Mary came home with some story about Mr. Edwards doing work at a charity and how he seemed happy much like you were. Anyway, the end of the story is that she thought perhaps she would attempt some charity work herself to see what it was like, and I do think she has found it satisfying so far, though she has only made the one gown. There has not been time for more than that.”
“I am impressed, and Mr. Edwards and Miss Barrett will be pleased to hear it when Charles returns. I have to admit that I never expected to see him so interested in charitable work, but then Miss Barrett is persuasive.”
“Where has he gone?” Margaret asked.
“I am not supposed to say, but he has gone to speak with Mr. Barrett.”
“He plans to marry Miss Barrett, then?” Mary asked as she placed a shortbread on her plate.
“If he can get both her father’s and her permission,” Henry replied with a chuckle, “which a gentleman with his reputation may find challenging. However, if anyone can charm both a father and his daughter, it is Edwards.”
Mary shook her head. “How odd this season has been. First, there is you finding a proper young lady and becoming respectable.”
“Which I must say is about time,” Margaret inserted, and Henry agreed.
“And then there is Mr. Edwards,” Mary added, “who was worse than you for charming the ladies, b
ecoming a whatever it is he is becoming. I know it is not what he has been.”
“And now there is you, cutting ties with your friends. Will we be adding Mr. Durward to our family?”
Henry wore his familiar teasing smile. It was a welcome sight to Mary. How she had missed him!
“We have only just met,” she replied.
“And how long were we at Mansfield before you had selected a husband?”
Mary glared at him through narrowed eyes. “We both know how that worked out, do we not? I think it best if I do not select a husband in such haste this time.” She sighed. “By the by, Tom assures me that Edmund and I would not suit.”
“And what is your opinion?” Henry asked.
“Since his injury and illness, it would appear that Mr. Bertram has developed an annoying habit of being right because I have to agree with him. I would have grown bored. Edmund would not have changed. He was what he was, and he was happy being such. I likely would have been miserable because I am not Margaret. I am not made to be a parson’s wife. And my unhappiness would have made Edmund miserable in return. You know how petulant I can be.”
Henry laughed. “Indeed, I do.” He blew out a breath. “We both learned something from our time at Mansfield, did we not? Painful though the lessons were.”
Mary nodded, although she was not certain she had actually learned anything until recently when finally, she had been made to view her actions for what they were while walking in the garden with Tom. She had known that what she had done was not best, but she had not fully considered just how wrongly she had acted until the admiral was held up before her as a mirror of her own behaviour.
“Now, about this Mr. Durward, Margaret. Do you think we have a hope of seeing our sister settled?”
Mary swatted his arm, but she could not be displeased. She had missed Henry’s teasing, and if Mr. Durward proved to be as trustworthy as he claimed, she would not mind being his wife. So, beyond the swat of Henry’s arm, she said nothing, choosing instead to apply herself to her tea while she listened to her sister and brother conjecture about her future until another very welcome caller arrived.
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Henry said as they all took their seats once again after Margaret had made all the proper introductions. “My sisters tell me you are in trade.”
“Indeed, I am. I have an import and export business as well as dealings with some financing of projects.”
“Then you are doing well?”
Mary wanted to sink into her chair so that she could not be seen. Since when did her brother start asking such questions of the gentlemen she entertained as possible suitors?
“Some would say so.”
Taking note of the smile Gabe wore, Mary breathed a sigh of relief that he had not been offended by the question. That was also strange. Since when did she concern herself with whether Henry offended anyone with his behaviour? Had not both she and he lived for the pleasure of unsettling the occasional person?
“I have promised a tour of my operation to your sisters,” Gabe continued. “I do hope that is to your satisfaction.”
Henry nodded. “I see no reason to oppose such an outing.”
Gabe leaned forward, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair, and his fingers lacing in front of him. “Since you are here, and I am not certain when we shall have a chance for a bit of conversation in the future as I have no intention of returning to any social events for some time…”
“You do not?” Margaret asked in surprise.
Gabe shook his head. “I did not like Lady St. James, and I am equally as certain she did not like me. I shall let the dust of our meeting settle before I expose myself to her censure and likely cause another stir when she provokes me beyond my limits once again.”
“She was most certainly displeased,” Henry acknowledged. “I have heard the whispers.”
Gabe acknowledged the comment with a nod. “I am not unaccustomed to such things. I am in trade, after all, and not so refined as some.” Again, he wore a very pleasing smile that spoke of the truth of his words. He seemed at ease with not being fully accepted and did not appear to care what society thought of him.
“Now,” he continued, his smile fading somewhat but not completely.
He was charming, Mary thought with a silent sigh.
“To get to what I wished to discuss with you. I am a man of business, and I like to know in advance to whom I should speak regarding agreements. I know that you and Miss Crawford lived with your uncle, but neither of you do any longer. Therefore, should the admiration I have for your sister flourish into something that seems to be lasting, should I call on you or the admiral — or Dr. Grant because she is residing with him.”
Mary’s eyes grew wide. She had only just met Mr. Durward, and he was thinking of marriage? She had not even had time to make her desires known to him. She smiled. He was choosing her without persuasion of any sort. It was a novel feeling.
Henry grimaced. “She was handed over to me by the admiral when we left him.”
“It was an ugly scene?” Gabe inquired.
“Nothing was ever pleasant with the admiral,” Mary answered.
Henry shook his head. “What he said was reprehensible. Even in my former iteration, I knew it to be.”
Mary lifted her chin and pushed down the hurt that rose as she remembered her uncle’s words. “He had no use for housing a lady who could not possibly repay him in any satisfactory fashion.”
“He said that?” Margaret cried. “You never told me that.”
“I could not,” Mary answered softly. It hurt her to be so easily discarded then, and the pain of such a thing had not faded in the time she had been away from him. It should not have surprised her that he cared so little for her since he was so unfeeling toward his own wife, but it did.
Gabe wore the same expression as the one Mary had seen him wear when addressing Lady St. James. He was offended, and her heart thrilled a small amount as she realized that, presently, he was not offended on his own account but on her behalf. Perhaps. Just perhaps, she had found a gentleman whom she could trust with her heart.
“I will not say what I think of such a man while in polite company.” Gabe shook his head and blew out a breath as if struggling to contain his displeasure. Then, he smiled a small, kind smile at Mary and said, “I am very sorry you had to endure that. No lady should be so treated.”
Mary ducked her head as she thanked him. If she kept looking at his earnest, concerned-filled dark eyes, she would not be able to keep her tears where they belonged.
Had she ever felt so treasured? She was positive she never had. She could easily lose her heart to Mr. Durward, but she mustn’t. Not yet. Not until she knew that she could trust him completely. She would not willingly present her heart to any gentleman, no matter how kind and charming he appeared, and allow it to be crushed.
“Then if or when the time should come, I will call on you,” Gabe said to Henry.
“I would appreciate that,” Henry replied. “However, I am certain Dr. Grant’s permission could be sought in my stead. He would not let any harm come to my sister. Of that, I am certain.” Henry shifted positions, becoming even more comfortably positioned. “Now, tell me about you. I have heard that you have only lived in England for a few years.”
Gabe nodded. “I was born in India and lived there my entire life until I set foot on that first company ship. Then, my world expanded, and I was given the opportunity to see many places, including London.”
“And of all the places you saw, you chose to live here?” Henry asked. “I would think that there would be many more interesting places in the world in which to take up residence than London.”
Gabe shook his head. “I took one look at her on that first foggy, dreary day and knew I would return. I could have chosen another colony in which to set up my business, but no other port spoke to me as this one did.” He shrugged. “I do not know why exactly. Perhaps it was because the company is here, and so I
wished to position myself as one of its rivals set to take up what I believe it is destined to lose at some point in the none too distant future. Perhaps it was something else – the history, the architecture, the vibrance, or the idea that the heart of the empire beats from here. It could have been a dozen reasons I suppose. I have not paused to ferret them out. I only know that by the end of the short time that I was here, I knew I would come back. This was where I was meant to be.”
“Do you always make such quick decisions?” Margaret asked.
Gabe shook his head. “Not always, but I do not attempt to take too long in deliberations either. If one is not quick to decide things, one might lose out on a very profitable venture or place his money where it cannot possibly make him a return.” He chuckled. “I sound like a rather boring old fellow. Tom tells me I need to find something other than business upon which to think. I have always thought he was wrong, but I am not so certain any longer.”
“Have you been to the theatre?” Henry asked.
“No, I have not been. Tom has managed to get me to attend various soirees, and I do enjoy touring the museum and the occasional ride through a park, but I must admit I have not attended a play – though I have read a great number of them.”
“Then, I will secure an invitation for you and Mary to join myself and some friends one night.”
Mary shook her head. He could not mean she was to attend a play with Miss Linton.
“Miss Linton is a forgiving sort of lady,” Henry assured her before she had even spoken. “Mrs. Kendrick, Mrs. Barrett, and Mr. Linton might be less so, but is it not right that you prove yourself changed to them?”
Sit in a box with people toward whom she had behaved so dreadfully? The thought was perhaps the most terrifying one Mary had ever had to ponder. Mr. Edwards had been so cutting in his remarks to her at that ball. She was not entirely sure she was up to the playing such a role.
“I would be delighted to join you if Miss Crawford will join me.”
Mary knew that Mr. Durward could see the fear she felt when she looked at him in surprise for his eyes were filled with concern.
