by Jane Goodger
How wonderfully inventive. “Of course,” he said, then bowing to Miss Pittswell, “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Can I be of any help?” she asked.
His sister, thank God, didn’t miss a beat. “My goodness, Miss Pittswell, that is very brave of you. I fear we’ll be getting very dusty, and the spiders.” She gave a shudder. “I wouldn’t want you to ruin your beautiful gown. Is it Worth?”
Miss Pittswell preened, as Edward was sure his sister planned, and agreed that the last thing she wanted was to get her gown dirty.
“That was lovely,” Edward said when they were alone.
“Thank you. But you should really give credit to Her Grace, for she directed me to save you. Or perhaps she wanted to make certain Miss Pierce was alone with Sir William,” she added thoughtfully and without a hint of guile. “In any case, we really don’t need you unless you want to help.”
Edward scowled. “I’ll help. There’s nothing else to do.”
“My, you sound exceedingly grumpy. Is Miss Pittswell all that bad?”
“It’s all the Miss Pittswells of the world. They all run together into a single marriage-minded girl who wants only to sink her claws into my title.”
Amelia laughed aloud. “Poor, poor Edward. What you need to find is a girl who has absolutely no interest in your title. Miss Pierce would have been perfect. But I fear she’s already been taken.” Amelia gave her brother a sly look, which he immediately recognized for what it was: a transparent attempt to see if he was at all interested in her.
“I have no interest in any woman here,” he said, using all his willpower to not look toward Maggie, who at that very moment let out a delighted laugh. Sir William was a rather entertaining fellow, apparently.
Amelia pouted, then almost immediately brightened. “Don’t worry. After the holidays you’ll have plenty of time to find the right girl.”
“I cannot wait,” he said so dryly that Amelia snorted her disbelief.
The children put on a rather entertaining rendition of Hansel and Gretel, with the addition of a few more woodland creatures and an extra hostage or two to make certain all the children had a part. Maggie sat next to Sir William, who seemed to genuinely enjoy the production. Amelia played an outlandishly wicked witch, complete with a very large and very crooked false nose. In between her scenes, Amelia ran to the piano and accompanied the action on the “stage” quite wonderfully.
After the show everyone congratulated the children on a job well done, then bid the children good night, led by the harried Lady Matilda. Maggie did not envy her the job of settling that brood down for bed.
“Well, that was rather good, now, wasn’t it?” Sir William said, after the children were out of the room. They stood off to the side, a bit apart from the other adults. “Quite impressive.”
“Far better than my own performances when I was a child. Of course, it was only my brothers and me trying to do all the parts. We weren’t terribly successful.”
“I’m sure you were charming.”
“Actually,” Maggie said jauntily, “up until about a year ago I was a little hoyden, completely unmanageable. Ask my poor mama.”
“Miss Pierce,” Sir William said, sounding terrifyingly serious.
“Yes?”
“Your mother is younger than I am by quite some years. I am more than old enough to be your father.”
“That is all quite true,” Maggie said cautiously.
Sir William moved even farther from the others until they were completely on the other side of the large room. “When my wife died, I had no interest in marrying again. I already had children, was quite content, and frankly no other woman since my wife’s death…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been by myself for a long time. And quite happy. Really.”
“I’m sure you have been,” Maggie said, pretending she didn’t know where this awkward conversation was going.
“I know I am much older than you.”
Maggie pretended surprise only to make him laugh and to make this moment slightly less excruciating for both of them.
“I was wondering if you could ride out with me, Miss Pierce.”
Maggie placed a dramatic hand over her heart. “Oh, thank God, I thought you were proposing, Sir William. Yes, indeed, I think I can handle a riding out with a fine gentleman like you.”
Sir William laughed. “I’m a bit out of practice, talking to women, as you can see.”
“You have done wonderfully all night,” Maggie said, putting him at ease. What else could she have done, after all? Sir William was a nice gentleman and she could find no objection to taking a drive with him. Going for a drive with a man didn’t mean she was hoping for a proposal.
Then a thought, completely unbidden, struck her like a small bolt. What if she did marry Sir William? He was old, and likely wouldn’t be too demanding in the bedroom. She decided that if she had to endure such humiliation, at least having it infrequently would be more acceptable. He was wonderful company. He seemed kind and intelligent and she felt completely at ease around him, unthreatened. Calm. Safe.
Sir William stirred none of the feelings she felt when she was around Lord Hollings, who made her heart beat too, too fast, who made her wish and wish and wish for things that could never be.
Besides, Lord Hollings hadn’t asked her to go for a ride. Sir William had.
“When shall we go, sir?”
He smiled at her and she chose to ignore the fact his teeth were rather yellow and slightly crooked. No one was perfect. She pushed her mind firmly away from the thought of Lord Hollings’s straight, white teeth. Perhaps next time she was near enough to him she’d really study his teeth and find them less than perfect.
“If it is a fine day tomorrow, how about then? I’d love to show you my team. Finer horseflesh you’ll not see in all of Britain,” Sir William boasted. Maggie didn’t realize why he’d suddenly started talking rather loudly until she noticed His Grace stop dead in his tracks.
“If they are a fine pair,” the duke said drolly, “then it is because they are descendents of Bellewood stock.”
“Ah, Your Grace. I didn’t see you there,” Sir William said with a wink to Maggie.
“Sir William is helping me to get my stable back in order,” Bellingham explained. “And I do believe it tickles him that a duke is so beholding to him.”
“I am not that shallow a man,” Sir William said, completely insincerely. “I am more than happy to bring your stables up to my standards.”
Bellingham threw his head back and laughed and Sir William joined in. The older man, though far beneath the duke in rank, clapped the younger man on the back companionably.
“I take it Sir William is showing off his horses to you, Miss Pierce,” Bellingham said.
“Yes, Your Grace. After all this discussion I hope to be suitably impressed.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high,” he said dryly.
Sir William leaned over to her and said in a staged whisper, “He will not forgive me for beating Black Knight at Aintree last spring.”
Bellingham laughed again. “I already have my sights on next year. If you will excuse me, I’m going to check on my wife,” he said with a small bow. “Enjoy your ride, Miss Pierce.”
Sir William nodded and Maggie gave a bit of a curtsy, slightly embarrassed by her lack of social graces. Did one curtsy to a duke only at his arrival or also at his departure? She wondered how Elizabeth got everything straight in her head, but she seemed to have taken to this world of British nobility quite quickly.
“I never know when or whether to curtsy. Or how deeply or to whom,” Maggie confessed.
“I make it a practice to curtsy to everyone,” Sir William said, making Maggie laugh by modeling his curtsy. “As a mere baronet, I am the low man on the totem pole, so I must defer to everyone.”
“What, precisely, is a baronet? I’ve heard of barons, but I confess I haven’t heard of baronet. I thought,” she said with a smile, “that perhaps i
t was a female baron.”
Sir William laughed, which is what she intended.
“You two seem to be having quite the time,” Lord Hollings said.
“Sir William was beginning to explain the intricacies of the British nobility. Apparently, he’s a mere baronet, which is much better than being a ‘mister’ but beneath a duke.”
“Or an earl,” Sir William pointed out, with a nod toward Lord Hollings.
“I find all this Sir this and Lord that and His Grace rather confusing. And I never know what to call the women. Or daughters. Or sisters. Your sister is a Lady, is she not?”
“Yes, but only since I got the earldom.”
“Lord Hollings’s wife will be a countess,” Sir Williams said.
“Fancy,” Maggie said, pretending to be enthralled.
“Except he’s never going to marry, so there will be no countess.” Amelia had come up to them, apparently drawn by their joie de vivre, beaming a smile at her older brother.
“Not marry? Why ever not?” Sir Williams asked.
“He claims he cannot find a suitable bride. England is positively filled with girls who would give anything to be his bride. And he doesn’t even need an heiress,” Amelia said, clearly goading her brother.
Maggie watched as Lord Hollings attempted a smile, but it was so far off the mark of what she knew he was capable of, she burst out laughing. “Oh, surely you can do better than that,” she said.
“Better than what?”
“Better than that smile you’re plastering on your face. Hardly your best and I think most certainly insincere.”
“He doesn’t like to discuss marriage,” Amelia said.
“Do not continue to speak for me nor about me as if I were not standing in front of you,” Lord Hollings said overly pleasantly through gritted teeth. He turned to Sir William. “I apologize for my sister. She is extremely young.”
“Only compared to you,” Amelia said, in pure little sister fashion.
“Your sister was only telling the truth, sir. I don’t think you should get upset with her for that.” Maggie decided that goading Lord Hollings was, indeed, amusing.
Lord Hollings turned to her and for an instant the heat she saw in his eyes was almost frightening. It was so quickly masked that she thought perhaps she’d been mistaken. Then he forced a smile. “I adore talking about marriage,” he said. “Whom do you think I should marry, Miss Pierce? Is she in this room, perhaps? Please be so good and point her out. Put a blindfold on and turn around and find my bride for me. My sister seems to think it is that easy.”
“I told you he doesn’t like to talk about it,” Amelia said.
“I enjoyed married life, myself,” Sir William said in an obvious attempt to deflect whatever was going on, for though the words spoken were innocuous, it was clear there was an undercurrent of meaning being passed around.
“Shall we talk about something more pleasant?” Maggie asked with forced joviality. “Perhaps the plague?”
Everyone laughed, and Lord Hollings had the good grace to look a bit sheepish. She silently prayed the subject would change, for it was becoming a bit painful to hear even though she knew she was responsible for bringing the subject to the forefront. She wondered if Lord Hollings even remembered their discussion of marriage, if he’d agonized over it as she had. Probably not. If she brought it up, he’d likely look at her as if she were daft. But she remembered nearly every word, every expression, every heartbreaking syllable he’d uttered.
It had been at Elizabeth’s wedding and they’d been having such a lovely time. After not seeing Lord Hollings for weeks, she’d been so ridiculously happy to see him, though she’d tried her best not to show it. He’d held her and angrily told her he didn’t love her, wouldn’t marry her, cutting her with those words he’d spoken so vehemently. “I shan’t get married,” he said. “Not for years and years. Even if I did get married, I wouldn’t marry you,” he’d said. “Because I…I…” He’d lowered his head, unable to finish.
“Because you?”
“Because I couldn’t bear it,” he’d said.
She didn’t know what he’d meant then, and she didn’t know now. All she did know was that Lord Hollings had left soon after, leaving her heartbroken and confused and determined to never be hurt again. Particularly not by him. It was no use pining for a man who had a strange aversion to marriage, one that he, apparently, had no intention of reversing.
While she’d been basking in her own miserable memories, Sir William had been talking to her and she lifted her head, startled, when he said, “What do you think, Miss Pierce?”
“Oh. Yes.” She prayed she wasn’t saying yes to something horrid, like eating raw oysters or playing chess.
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” That was Lord Hollings, eyebrows raised, as if he were startled by her answer. Oh, dear, she’d have to confess her wandering mind.
“I’m sorry,” she said with an embarrassing laugh. “What have I just agreed to? I’m afraid I was lost in thought and haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. I hope it’s not too horrid.”
“Certainly not,” Sir William said, but Maggie got the sense that he was not entirely pleased. “We’ve just invited Lord Hollings to accompany us on our ride.”
Chapter 11
“Of course I must go. You certainly cannot go out with two single men on your own,” Harriet said as she pushed the final hat pin into her rather ragged-looking peacock-feathered hat. Each time Maggie noticed something like that about her mother—a frayed collar, a faded skirt—it reminded her just how desperate their situation was. At times it seemed as if her mother’s mind was becoming as frayed as her clothing and that Maggie only had to fix her clothes to fix everything else that had gone wrong with their world.
“I know it would be unseemly. It’s only I wish Elizabeth could come. Not that I don’t enjoy your company, Mama,” she said, giving her mother a peck on the cheek.
“If it had been only Sir William, I would have allowed it. After all, he is an older gentleman who certainly would not take advantage of a young girl.”
“Mama, it was Sir William who asked me to ride with him. I think he is considering courting me.”
Her mother eyed her skeptically. “He is older than your father. And if that is the case, why did he invite Lord Hollings? A man his age cannot compete with a young, handsome earl.”
“Lord Hollings invited himself. And don’t fool yourself into thinking it was his interest in me, it is not. He wants to see Sir William’s horses.”
Harriet let out a heavy sigh. “Sir William does seem taken with you. I suppose you could do worse.”
“Much worse,” Maggie said with false cheerfulness. She did like Sir William, but the thought of him kissing her made her want to giggle. She simply could not imagine wanting him to kiss her, never mind everything else that marriage required. At the thought of that, she closed her mind and pushed that image away. She should only think about how happy her mother would be not to worry so much.
“Do you like him?”
“I suppose. I’ve only just met him, Mother. Surely you don’t expect me to make a decision about marrying a complete stranger so quickly.”
“Of course not,” Harriet said, but there was a bit of pique in her tone, as if she did, indeed, think Maggie should make such a decision.
“He hasn’t asked,” Maggie said in a teasing tone.
Harriet’s face suddenly looked strained, almost as if she were trying desperately not to cry. “What if he doesn’t? What if no one does?”
“Papa won’t be in prison forever.”
“By then we’ll be destitute. It will be nearly impossible for your father to find employment,” her mother said bitterly.
Maggie hugged herself, hating that she could no longer have a conversation with her mother without bringing up how dreadful their situation was. “Sam has a good job now and Aunt Catherine—”
“Samuel can hardly care of himself. He’s living i
n a one-room flat, scraping by because no one with any connections will hire him. And my sister cannot support us all.”
Maggie hated how suddenly their entire family’s future rested on her shoulders. “I’ve told you I would find a position, if worse comes to worst. Really, Mother, people do work for a living.”
Her mother reared her hand back as if to slap her. Maggie couldn’t have been more shocked. Harriet, her face red, her breathing audible, dropped her hand. “If you had told me what had happened before we left New York you would have been safely married to Arthur. I would have insisted on it. To think he got away with such a thing with no repercussions sickens me. And to think you kept such a thing a secret and allowed him to…to…” Her mother’s words came out as gasps.
“Mama, please calm down,” Maggie said, wanted to scream and scream that it wasn’t Arthur who had taken her virginity. Her mother took a deep, shaking breath.
“Oh, my. I told myself I wouldn’t think about it. It does make me angry. Not with you, darling,” she said, giving her daughter a tremulous smile. Maggie wanted to believe her, but how could she when she’d come so close to striking her? Such a thing would have been unheard of just a few months ago.
“Let’s try to enjoy this day, Mama. And promise me you will not push me. You’ve always told me that men sense a desperate girl and it is a most unattractive trait.”
“That is true. But desperate mamas can be forgiven,” she said lightly, tapping Maggie on the nose as if she hadn’t just been on the verge of slapping her.
Maggie felt sick inside, but forced a smile. “Let’s go. The men await.”
Edward stood beside Sir William feeling a bit foolish, which was not something he often felt. He realized, soon after he’d gotten the begrudgingly offered invitation to join Sir William on his ride with Maggie, that he should have gracefully declined. It was, after all, what Sir William had expected him to do. No doubt if the older man had thought for a moment he would say yes, the invitation would never have been offered. But the thought of Maggie riding alone with Sir William drove him a bit mad.
