Yes.
“—but believe me when I tell you we know what is best for you.”
Suzanna’s spark of hope died as Mother continued. “Young ladies think of romance, love, and other impractical considerations. That is why it is much better when parents make the decisions on children’s marriages.
“You will be very happy with Lord Pemberton. He is a nice man, wealthy, not difficult to look at, and will provide you, and any children you have, with devotion and caring.”
“And a title,” she said bitterly.
Mother sighed. “You may not appreciate it now, but this is for the best.” She gave her an alarmingly bright smile. “Now go wash your face, and I will send in Bessie to fix your hair, so we can go to the dressmakers.”
…
Giles stared morosely into his drink, then pushed the glass aside. Drinking had done nothing for him but give him a headache upon awakening each morning. He still had no intention of giving up on Suzanna, but short of kidnapping her, he was fresh out of ideas on how to proceed.
He had tried catching her as she’d left the house for a walk, or on Bond Street, doing some shopping, but every time he’d seen her, her demon of a mother had been right alongside her. It appeared her parents had no intention of allowing her out of their sight until the marriage contracts were signed.
“Still drinking yourself into a coma every night?” Hawk ambled up to him, followed by Bedford and Cam. They all settled in the soft leather chairs forming a circle around the small table holding Giles’s glass.
“Maybe it’s time to forget her, Templeton. From all accounts, Lord Pemberton is expected to make an offer soon.”
“I will not forget her. And I will not do so until I have reason to believe this is something Suzanna wants.”
“So, what is your plan?” Cam asked after taking a sip of brandy. “If you’re not willing to accept that she will receive an offer, you must have a way to prevent it.”
“I may very well climb into her bedchamber one night and make off with her.”
“I hate to say this, and don’t challenge me with pistols at dawn, but how do you know Miss Blake hasn’t decided to accept an offer from Pemberton? My wife tells me she saw her at the dressmakers the other day being fitted for new gowns. Patience spoke with her and said she seemed subdued, but not wretchedly unhappy.” Bedford eyed him with sympathy.
“I refuse to believe that until I hear it from her own lips.” Despite his affirming words, Giles had a lump the size of a cannonball in his stomach. Had Suzanna reconciled herself to a marriage with Pemberton? Had she given up on them?
“Perhaps Her Grace can invite Suzanna to tea, and I can speak with her there?” Giles spirits picked up at the thought of finally being able to break through the barrier her parents had constructed around her.
“Do you believe her mother would not accompany her to a tea? Especially since she knows you and I are friends?” Bedford shook his head. “I will be more than happy to do that, but I think you are fooling yourself.”
“They are keeping her a prisoner. There must be some law against that,” he said bitterly.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but you are certainly aware that marriages are oftentimes arranged—and forced—by parents. It is the way of life for us.”
“Easy for you to say, Bedford, since you married your childhood sweetheart.”
“If you recall, my lovely wife had been betrothed to my brother, against her will. Arranged by my parents. Had my brother not died, she would be married to him right now.”
Giles stood, unable to sit and listen to common sense. “If you will excuse me, I have only a short period of time to rectify this situation.” Before anyone could comment, he turned on his heel and left the room.
…
The next afternoon, Giles rallied himself from his chair and decided to face the situation head on. He would go to Suzanna’s house and demand he be allowed to hear from her very own lips that she intended to accept an offer from Lord Pemberton of her own free will.
Why he thought Mr. Blake was going to allow him to speak to Suzanna was not clear, but he would not leave her house until he had evidence that she wanted to marry Lord Pemberton. He might have to stand outside her window and call up to her like Romeo and Juliet. Aside from being hauled off by the magistrate, he could think of no reason why he should not do that very thing.
Two hours later, freshly bathed and shaved, with several cups of coffee in him, he left his house and took the walk to Lord Montford’s townhouse. The brisk walk in the cool summer air tempered his resolve. He would see Suzanna, even if he had to request Lady Montford’s presence to do so. After all, the home belonged to Lord and Lady Montford, and he had received nothing but kindness from Lady Montford when he’d spent time in her company.
Yes, that was his plan. He would not ask to speak with Suzanna but present his card and request to see Lady Montford.
To his amazement, the man at the door took his card and immediately led him up the stairs to the drawing room. Was it to be so easy, then?
Several people sat on chairs around the room, partaking of tea, biscuits, sweetmeats, and tarts. A quick glance told him Suzanna was not present, but Mrs. Blake was, and met him with a glare.
Undaunted, he walked up to Lady Montford and bowed over her hand. “Good afternoon, my lady. It is a pleasure to see you again.”
“Good day to you, Mr. Templeton, won’t you join me?” She moved over on the settee, allowing him the perfect spot to converse with her without being overheard by Mrs. Blake.
He accepted the cup of tea from her and the plate with two biscuits on it. He waited a few minutes until Mrs. Blake was engaged in conversation with Lord Mallory on her left, causing her to present him with her back.
“Where is Miss Blake?” Giles said barely above a whisper.
Lady Montford offered him a soft smile. “I think it would be best if you had an opportunity to speak with her.” She glanced at Suzanna’s mother and continued in a soft voice. “She has gone down to the garden with Lord Pemberton.”
“Thank you.” Relief spread through him, and it took all his control to sit for a few more minutes before excusing himself and taking his leave.
He hurried downstairs, out the door, and around the corner to the garden. Within seconds he spotted Suzanna and Lord Pemberton. They sat on a stone bench, speaking earnestly, hands clasped, their heads close together. Before he had a chance to approach them, Suzanna exclaimed, “You have made me the happiest woman in London, my lord.” Then she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug.
…
Two hours earlier
A tap on her bedchamber door drew Suzanna’s attention. She placed a ribbon on the page to mark her place in her book, and said, “Come in.”
Mother entered the room. “Lord Pemberton will be calling this afternoon. Refresh yourself and be prepared to meet him.”
“That would be lovely, since I have not spoken more than a few words to the man you and Father hope will offer for me.”
“Sarcasm does not become you, young lady.” She walked farther into the room and ran her eyes over Suzanna. “You spend too much time in your bedchamber, reading. You are growing quite pale. It would be a good idea to ask Lord Pemberton to escort you for a walk in the garden when he arrives.”
Suzanna felt the heat rise to her face at her mother’s disregard for her wishes. The time had arrived to take a stand. “Mother, I can’t impress upon you enough that I do not want to marry Lord Pemberton.”
“Your father is awaiting an offer from his lordship any day now. Soon, it will be done. Stop acting like a spoiled child and accept your duty and place in Society.” Mother opened the door to Suzanna’s wardrobe and pulled out an afternoon dress. “This one is lovely. It matches your eyes, and you will look quite fetching in it.”
“Mother, stop this,” Suzanna snapped. “Whatever is that supposed to mean? Accept my place in Society? I have a place in S
ociety and see no reason why I should try to elevate it by marrying a man I not only do not know but have no regard for.” She held her hands out in a pleading gesture. “I love Mr. Templeton.”
Mother’s head jerked up. “Do. Not. Say. That.”
“It is true. No matter how many times you insist that marriage to Lord Pemberton would be wonderful for me, I do not believe it. I do not love him, do not even care for him.”
“Have you been in touch with that man?”
“Who?”
“Your Mr. Templeton,” she snarled. “Has he been sending you letters that I have missed? I told you to forget him.”
Well, that confirmed what Suzanna had suspected. Mother had been intercepting her letters. “Mother, this is not the medieval ages. Parents no longer make matches for their children and force them into it.” She raised her chin. “I could very well say ‘no’ during the marriage ceremony.”
In a flash, Mother was across the room, the lovely gown in her hand tossed into a heap on the floor. She slapped her face, then grabbed Suzanna by the shoulders. “Don’t you dare even think such a thing. If you embarrass me and your father in such a way, we will never speak with you again. You will be dead to us.”
Thinking that might not be such a bad thing, Suzanna tugged away from her mother and sat on the bed, holding her burning cheek where Mother had slapped her. “Leave me, please, if you expect me to be ready for inspection at afternoon tea.”
“I don’t know what has gotten into you, Suzanna. You used to be such a biddable young lady. Having you come to London without me for the beginning of the Season was a mistake.” She brushed off her skirts and headed to the door. “I expect to see you downstairs as soon as Lord Pemberton arrives. I will send Bessie up to attend you.”
Suzanna entered the drawing room sometime later, after receiving a summons from Mother, through Bessie, to present herself.
Lord Pemberton stood as she entered the room and gave her a tentative smile. His mother raised a quizzing glass to her eye as she studied her. Lady Montford cast her an encouraging look and patted the seat next to her.
“Good afternoon, my lord, Lady Pemberton.” Suzanna granted Lady Pemberton a curtsy and took the seat Eunice had indicated.
Just as she settled down, a footman entered with a tea tray. “Suzanna, will you pour, please?”
Suzanna was stunned at Mother’s audacity, to usurp Eunice’s place. It was, after all, her home. But to keep the peace, she reached over and poured. “Lady Pemberton, how do you like your tea?”
Once again the woman raised her glass to her eye. Suzanna held in her sigh. Was the woman so far into her dotage that she forgot to whom she was speaking? “Two sugars and a bit of cream.”
Suzanna fixed her tea, Mother’s and Eunice’s. She turned to Lord Pemberton. “My lord? How do you like your tea?”
“No sugar, a bit of cream.”
Once the tea had been consumed and the biscuits passed, Mother shifted in her seat. “Suzanna, I believe his lordship would love a tour of the gardens.” She turned to Lady Pemberton. “They are simply lovely, and Suzanna just adores spending time there.”
That was a surprise on her part, as Suzanna rarely entered the garden. She stood and smiled at Lord Pemberton, who offered his arm.
Once they were outside, and far away from his mother and hers, a plan presented itself to Suzanna. This might be her only chance to save herself, and she was going to take it. ’Twas time she took a stand against her mother, even if she had to do it behind her back. Inhaling deeply, she turned to Lord Pemberton. “My lord, while I am most flattered at your attentions, I feel it is imperative for me to ask you a question.” She tried to figure out the easiest way to say what needed to be said.
“Are you aware that I had no knowledge of your interest in me until you and your mother arrived for dinner last week?” She chewed her lip. “I mean, why did you ask my father for permission to court me, since we hadn’t even met?”
They stopped walking, and he turned toward her. “My mother told me she had been approached by your mother at some event. Since m’mother has been badgering me to marry for some time now, I visited your father. He assured me that you were anxious to marry this Season, and he was in a position to accept suitors for you.
“I realized at the time we had not been formally introduced, but I had seen you at several events. However, I had not approached you, since I had been under the impression you were already spoken for.”
“Mr. Templeton?”
“Yes.” His brows furrowed. “However, your father disabused me of that idea.”
Suzanna sighed and continued to walk. “My parents—my mother in particular—is adamant that I must marry a man with a title.”
“I see.” He was silent for a few moments, then turned to her. “And you?”
She closed her eyes, then regarded him. “I am in love with Mr. Templeton.”
“Ah.” He smiled softly, then looked off into the distance.
She watched him carefully, her heart pounding. So much depended on how kind this man was. The idea of telling him she no longer possessed her virginity had occurred to her. Depending on how his conversation went, she might have to resort to that.
“So, am I to assume you do not wish to marry me—or perhaps anyone else besides Mr. Templeton—and any offer on my part will be met with rejection?”
She reached out and touched his arm. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, and you seem like a lovely man, but no, I do not wish to marry you. Although I might wish to reject your suit, my parents will not allow me to do that. Do you see my conundrum?”
He took her by the hand and led her to a stone bench, where they both sat. Their hands still joined, he looked her in the eye. “I must admit I never thought much about love in my marriage. I always knew it would be necessary for me to wed to preserve my title, but I assumed my wife would be someone I would grow fond of over the years.”
She shook her head. “Is that all you really want, my lord? Only to feel fondness? You do not wish for a stronger connection? Love? Passion?”
He grinned. “Actually, I never gave it a great deal of consideration.” After a few moments, he looked at their joined hands and gave her a soft smile. “Now what do we do?”
Suzanna held her breath. Was it possible this man would not insist on continuing his suit? “I’m afraid I am powerless in this situation, my lord. My parents will not allow me to refuse.”
“And you are in love with Mr. Templeton? And he with you?”
“Oh, yes.” She smiled for the first time in days. “If you discontinue your suit, with most of the ton expecting you to offer for me, that could very well create enough of a scandal to make me unmarriageable.”
He placed his knuckle under her chin and raised her head. “Miss Blake, I want you to know that I believe Mr. Templeton is a very lucky man.”
She held her breath while he studied her. “I will advise your father today that I intend to withdraw my attentions, since I believe we will not suit.” He hesitated for a moment. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, quite sure.”
He grinned. “Then I will do so. It is not every day that I get to be a beautiful young lady’s knight in shining armor.”
“You have made me the happiest woman in London, my lord.” Then she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug.
Chapter Seventeen
Before the embracing couple in the garden could see him, Giles backed up then turned abruptly and left the garden. Through the numbness that strangled him, the thought kept running through his mind that it certainly appeared that his friends had been right and Suzanna had reconciled herself to Pemberton’s courtship.
One day in the near future, he would allow himself the luxury of self-pity, anger, and whatever else he needed to do to deal with the pain. Now, he headed home with the intent of closing up his London townhouse and heading to his estate in Bedfordshire.
The walk home did nothing to calm him.
“Macon!” Giles shouted for his valet the minute he slammed the front door.
“Yes, Mr. Templeton.” Macon came down the stairs, a boot and boot brush in his hands.
“Pack up everything. We are leaving for Bedfordshire.” He took the stairs two at a time and brushed past the valet.
If Macon had a question about his orders, it did not show on his face. He turned and followed Giles to his bedchamber. “When are we leaving, sir?”
“As soon as we’re packed.”
At sixes and sevens and unsure what to do with himself, Giles went back downstairs and strode to the kitchen, surprising Cook with his abrupt entrance.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Templeton. How can I help you?”
“Where is Mrs. Adams?” He cringed at his tone, but he had no time for niceties.
Cook thought for a moment. “I believe she is upstairs supervising the new maid in her duties.”
He raced up the servant stairs from the kitchen to the bedchamber floor. His housekeeper was just coming from one of the bedchambers.
“Mrs. Adams. I am leaving today for Bedfordshire. Please do whatever it is you need to do to close up the house.”
Her brows rose. “Yes, Mr. Templeton. How long will you be gone?”
“Forever.” He strode past her to his bedchamber and ran into Macon coming out of the room, almost knocking the poor man off his feet. He growled in his direction and continued on.
Once he reached the middle of his bedchamber, his heart pumping, his breath coming in short pants, he came to an abrupt halt. Now what? Aside from punching the wall, which would probably break his hand, he had nothing to do. Macon was busy running back and forth, packing, and Mrs. Adams stood in the corridor giving orders to the staff. There was no reason for him to be in his room.
No reason for him to even be in the house. Or London. He would only slow things up if the servants had to walk around him to get things done. “I’m going to my club. We will depart when I return.”
Wagering for Miss Blake Page 17
