"Lover's tiff already, lad?" he asked heartily.
"Something far worse."
The older man's face fell. Surely the engagement wasn't off! It would be too shaming.
"A ruined gown," Thomas supplied with a smile.
"Lord, is that all?" The older man rolled his eyes and shook his head in relief.
"Well, spilled tea does tend to wreak domestic havoc."
"Good of you to bring her back. Please come into my study for a glass of something while you wait for my daughter to change."
"That would be most agreeable, thank you."
Mr. Castlemaine led the way into the snug walnut and burgundy study which had been the scene of their last private interview together. He gestured for Thomas to sit.
He cleared his throat and said, "I know circumstances have been a bit, er, strained, but I don't blame you for what I just saw. It's clear my daughter has a passionate nature after all, and knows what she wants."
"Er, yes, sir, thank you, I think."
Mr. Castlemaine ventured a smile. "Please don't stand on ceremony with me. You will have to take us very much as you find us here, but you are of course always welcome. With the excellent hunting and shooting here, I would hope to see you often."
Thomas bowed politely. "Thank you, but I'm afraid I do neither these days, sir."
Mr. Castlemaine's eyebrows rose heavenward. If anything, he looked more shocked than he had when they had got out of the carriage a moment before. "Why, pray tell?"
He cleared his throat, and then took the plunge. "The honest answer is that I had more than my fair share of killing in the Peninsula. I do not find it sporting to chase foxes through lands which do not belong to me, causing the sheep in the fields to panic and spontaneously abort. Nor do I believe in terrifying a creature for hours, a creature which we do not even have the courtesy to eat."
The older man stared at him. "You certainly have the most decided opinions for a man so young. Even if I don't agree with them, I have to admire your spirit."
"Thank you, sir."
Mr. Castlemaine poured them both some sherry, and sat down in the chair opposite. He allowed the warmth of the fire to course through his old bones for a minute. "I must say, and please do not take this as a criticism, that I always wondered why you were so, well, set apart from all of the other men. Oh, you have impeccable manners and are unfailingly polite, but you've never exactly been, well, chatty. Now I see why. It's because your opinions are strong, and unfashionable, so rather than risk causing offense, you say nothing."
Thomas nodded. "How perceptive of you to guess."
The older man looked at him appraisingly. "At the same time, if your beliefs are sincere, do you not have an obligation to discuss them, to expose other people to new ideas?"
"I would never want to be accused of indoctrination, sir, and these days, a Radical is about as welcome in a respectable drawing room as a fox in a hen house."
"A nice comparison, my lad, very apt. Heh, heh, I shall have to remember that." Mr. Castlemaine chuckled. "But then what is your position on a fox in a hen yard? Surely you would not let it destroy your poultry?"
Thomas sipped his sherry for a moment before replying. "It is a vexed question. It is the fox's nature to hunt. I believe there is such a thing as a balance of nature, that everything is in proportion. We have chosen to domesticate the fowl, treat them as our own property, when once they were as wild as the fox. We put them in cages to prevent them from getting out, but it is just as easy for something to get IN.
"We do not kill a man for stealing a chicken, or at least not too often in this day and age, fortunately, compared with past ages. Why should we treat the fox any more harshly than the man? The fox is acting by instinct, and cannot really help himself. The man is acting either out of need, as the fox is, or out of greed. But either way, the man has a choice. The fox does not. We have a choice regarding hunting. Therefore, I choose not to. I'm not saying I don't utilise the livestock and game which abound on my lands, but we eat everything which is killed. We also do not allow ourselves to fall prey to the sin of gluttony."
"Nor to one of the other seven deadly sins, avarice, I think," Mr. Castlemaine observed, moving the conversation around to the question which had vexed him ever since their last hasty interview. "We did not get to speak at length the evening of Charlotte's birthday, as you well know. But I would like to ask you something now. If you're not willing to take one penny of her dowry, why on earth are you marrying her?"
Thomas tugged at his cuffs and replied, "I should think it was obvious to any man who looked at her."
His shrewd old eyes grew sharp. "Perhaps, sir, but not in reference to you. You're obviously a man of intelligence. Why take a flighty little thing like her for no money? Why, her upkeep alone in gowns and fans...."
He waved the question away with a sweep of his hand. "Money is not a problem for me. She will earn her keep, if you choose to call it that, by being a good wife and mother."
Mr. Castlemaine did not know whether to be angry or pleased. "Ah, so that's the way of it."
Thomas stared back, his emerald eyes glittering. "No, no, you mistake me, sir. I was talking of a future happy event. I assure you, your daughter is completely unsullied by my hand or any other."
Mr. Castlemaine sat back in his chair, relieved. "I'm glad to hear it. I have been too indulgent a parent, I fear. Sorry to speak so bluntly, son, but I will own now that I was very worried.
"I can't say I was surprised by the attempt to elope. I had suspected she was up to something. I just never imagined it to be you. I don't think I ever saw you speak more than ten words to each other.
"But your marriage is timely, and I'm glad she has chosen so well, though ratiocination hardly came into the question at all, I fear. I dare say her head has been turned with all of her popularity. She has been getting altogether too worldly for her own good. I know you're wealthy and move in the most exalted circles, but please ensure that her feet are kept firmly on the ground if you wish to be happy."
He nodded. "I shall. When not on a footstool, or in bed, or in her stirrups, of course."
Mr. Castlemaine laughed at the little witticism, the gray curls of his powdered wig dancing merrily. "Not too much of the footstool, either. Too often women fancy themselves ill when they are not. Charlotte has an excellent constitution, is hardly ever ill or prone to the vapors. That is not to say she will not get pettish when thwarted."
"Thank you for the warning. I shall keep it in mind."
The older man looked at him assessingly once more. "And one other thing, if you don't mind my seeming too heavy-handed and personal."
Thomas hoped he was not going to get a lecture on the nature of marital relations. "Yes, what is that?" he asked in an even tone.
His brows knit for a moment. "I don't have any reason for saying this, except my instinct, as you call it, but I would not encourage either her Aunt Margaret or that brash young miss Agnes to come visit you too often. I have overheard some of their more recent conversations, and find them altogether too worldly. I would not like Charlotte to become either discontent, or worse still, led astray."
The Duke nodded. "Thank you for the admonition. I shall keep it in mind."
The older man's brows knit. "I only mention it because I know her aunt even now is packing. Since Charlotte will no longer need chaperonage, there is no longer any reason for her to stay here with me. But I fear that she will try to persuade my daughter to take her in at the Castle. However, do not let her deceive you. My wife's sister has more than enough money for an establishment of her own. She has lived with us for quite some time, ever since Charlotte's mother died, God rest her soul, several years back. She should have managed to live frugally here, so there is no reason for her to prevail upon you and your wife. And since you have given up all claim to Charlotte's dowry, I would hope that she would not do anything so foolish as to give it away."
"I hope you will not tell her, then. After all, e
ven if I do not wish the money, I'm not blind to the fact that it will be a goodly sun for our children to divide amongst themselves when the time comes. Though I do hope the good Lord does not see fit to gather Charlotte to His bosom for many years to come," he added sincerely.
"Amen to that. Very well, I shall not tell Charlotte."
"There you both are. Tell me what?" she asked, standing poised in the doorway smoothing down the skirts of the navy blue velvet gown she had just donned.
Both men rose to greet her.
"Tell me what?" she insisted.
Mr. Castlemaine looked to Thomas.
"That we do not allow fox hunting on my lands, or hunting parties," Thomas said smoothly.
She stared.
"Is that true?" she asked, turning to her father. "Is that what you were discussing?"
"He's a remarkable young man. Very decided in his opinions, but I like that." His father beamed at them both.
"You shall of course have any mount you like, my dear, once we are married, but riding to hounds is out of the question."
She was genuinely disappointed. She had always felt sorry for the fox, but the thrill of the chase had been compelling.
He smiled down at her confusion. "We can always have point to points if you feel the need to test your speed and agility, but no hunting or shooting."
"I had no idea I was marrying a Puritan," she said with a shake of her head.
"If you would just listen to him, Charlotte--"
She thrust her nose in the air, resentful of her wishes once again being ignored. "You evidently agree with him, so there's nothing to discuss, is there," she said in clipped tones.
Thomas turned the conversation quickly before she grew even more sulky. "The carriage is waiting. If you're ready, shall we go back now?"
"What, er, no. It is kind of you to ask me, Your Grace, but I really am rather tired, and I shall leave you to an unadulterated enjoyment of your visiting friends' companionship."
The familiar tic in the muscle of his cheek told her she had succeeded in genuinely annoying him, but he was admirably restrained as he nodded and bowed over her hand. "In that case, I shall send the carriage back for you at five."
She looked at him in bewilderment.
"The rehearsal supper," he reminded her, anger sparking in his eyes.
Her face fell. "Oh, yes, of course. I'm so sorry."
He thought her contrition seemed sincere, so he let his anger evaporate. She was young and foolish, he reminded himself, and this was only supposed to be marriage of convenience. What more could he expect? But he certainly wanted so much more....
He quashed the thought before he acted upon it, to both their regrets.
"We shall be ready at five on the dot," her father said.
Thomas bowed and departed, leaving Charlotte alone with her father.
She rounded on Mr. Castlemaine at once. "Ready at five! I have no one and nothing prepared! I have no friend or bridesmaids to stand up with me now that my aunt and Agnes are in such a huff about my sudden engagement. They are angry that I did not consult with them. And there is no one else in the district with whom I have been as close. What on earth can we rehearse?"
Her father looked at her, calculation in his sharp gray eyes. "Forgive me for saying this, Daughter, but if you had not sought to be the most popular woman with the men in the district, you might have been more popular with the ladies."
Charlotte stamped her foot and went over to the window. She did not mind the criticism so much as the fact that it was true. She had behaved foolishly, and was now paying the price. If she had been more pleasant to Thomas's friends, perhaps she would have got them to agree to stand up with her.
She bit her lip as she watched the carriage getting ready to move off.
What on earth was she to do now?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Charlotte knew she had to act at once to find herself a suitable wedding party, or look a pitiful fool forever. There was no help for it other than to confideher predicament to Thomas, much as it shamed her to do so.
It shocked her to realise that the people she had counted upon as friends and family, whom she had trusted implicitly, had let her down so badly.
Yet Thomas never had, not once, not throughout all the problems of the last two and a half days, she acknowledged with a deep pang, ever since the night of her abortive elopement. She could see now that she had behaved abominably toward him. She really had no right to expect any further consideration than the many she had already had.
But surely he was enough of a gentleman to overlook all that had gone amiss between them, and not fail her now. Not over something so momentous as her reputation in the entire district.
Without another moment's hesitation, Charlotte ran out of the study and down the hall to the front of the house. She lifted her navy blue velvet skirts high with one hand, and began to charge down the drive after the coach, pressing forward urgently with her other hand waving before she changed her mind.
"Your Grace! Thomas! Please wait!"
He poked his head out of the carriage window, looking mildly alarmed. "Stop," he commanded, and hung onto the strap as his well-trained servant did his bidding immediately and pulled up the team of four matched bay geldings.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
"I, well, that is to say..." She drew level with him, then blushed and dropped her head, looking for all the world like a wilted cabbage rose.
He took pity on her confusion, opened the door, and stepped out of the carriage.
"Come, we can walk and talk at the same time." He took one of the travelling rugs out of the carriage, and draped it over her shoulders as protection against the wafting winds of late winter. "There, are you warm enough?"
She was oddly touched by the gesture, and snugged the black watch plaid patterned wool around her slender frame. "Yes, thank you."
They walked down the drive toward the back of the house and the ornamental gardens in silence. He admired the evergreen topiary for some time, but when she still did not speak, he took her arm and tucked it closely against the side of his chest.
"Would you care to tell me why you ran out of the house after me? Is it because you want to return to Eltham Castle after all? But you have no cloak-"
She cast her eyes around the chilly frost-edge garden nervously. "I'm fine. Yes, no, well, not exactly, but I have to-" Her breath caught in her throat, choking off her words.
Thomas patted her shoulder and said kindly, "Slow down, my dear, and tell me what you need. If it is in my power to help, I shall."
"It is just that, well..." She blushed.
"Go on, Charlotte. If I can be a friend to you in any way, offer you some humble service, you have only to name it," he promised gently, looping his arm around her shoulders. He chafed one arm up and down to keep her warm. The contact was so distracting she almost forgot what she had been about to say.
She swallowed hard, and stepped away from the compelling contact slightly. "It's just that I have displeased my Aunt Margaret and my friend Agnes, whom I considered to be a loyal companion. I fear they do not approve of our match."
His ebony brows lowered. "Let me guess. They were in favor of your elopement with the other gentleman," he said, trying to keep the bitterness and sarcasm from his tone. So THAT was who it had been. Her own aunt had cared so little about her that she had encouraged her to elope? Worse still, had betrayed her for money? It was just too terrible to think of. Mr. Castlemaine had been right all along in warning her about the two untrustworthy and mercenary women.
She sighed. "That's right. Of course I have other friends, girls I went to school with at the Ladies' Academy in Surrey I attended for a time when Mama was ill. But many of them live far away, in various parts of the country, and at such short notice..."
He nodded. "I see. So apart from your father, and your cousins, there is no other family or friends, no one to stand up with you?"
She blushed hotly. "Er, no, no one. N
ot at such short notice, and with a great deal of inconvenience to all concerned." She sighed and looked away from his piercing emerald gaze.
He nodded and hugged her around the shoulders again. "I'm afraid I did not stop to consider this when I was so importunate as to insist upon the wedding taking place at once. But we can send any message you like, or one of my carriages to fetch anyone you choose."
Charlotte shook her head. "If you'll forgive me, this marriage is irregular enough without me broadcasting it far and wide. If I were to send for any of them, they would only wonder at the undue haste. Better for them to hear later that it was only a small quiet family wedding."
"Still, I'm sorry that you have no friends."
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1 Page 42
