by Deb Marlowe
That was all he needed. His sister loved to meddle in other people’s affairs, and as it was, she had plenty to share with the rest of the household about his arrival. “I would rather speak to Grandmother alone.” He cast his sister a pleading glance.
“Oh, very well.” Frances rolled her eyes. “I’ll have breakfast on a tray in my room. But I know exactly what’s going to happen. Richard is in love. I saw it yesterday…with my own eyes.” She flounced past him and closed the door behind her.
Grandmother waved to the chair across from her. “Come, sit.” She bustled around with pouring a bit of tea for Richard, which he accepted. It gave him something to do with his hands, and that calmed his nerves.
“I must say that Frances is not alone in seeing your regard for Miss Stephens.” Grandmother eyed him warily, her ancient blue eyes kind but alert. “Is that why you’re here?”
“It’s not just my feelings for Laura,” he began. This was harder than he thought. “Last night, Marguerite fell ill with a fever. She’s going to be fine,” he hastened to add, as Grandmother gasped in concern. “But for a moment, I had a vision of what my life would be like if I lost her and if I lost Laura. I must confess it was my undoing. I cannot let them go with Mother and Father to Derbyshire.”
Grandmother fell silent for a moment, stirring her tea with a small silver spoon.
The silence stretched on for an eternity.
Richard’s insides churned. His hands shook. This was well nigh unbearable. The inevitable objection to Laura’ lack of family, of social polish must be coming. Why wouldn’t Grandmother come out with it? He had a million reasons why Grandmother was wrong, ready to blurt out at a moment’s notice.
He had to say something to break the tension. “I suppose you think that if I marry Laura, I will be marrying down. She has no family, no fortune, nothing at all in this world.”
“You could not be more wrong.” Grandmother set aside her spoon and glanced at him, a searing look that shook him to the depths of his soul. “Miss Stephens is a good deal too good for you, Richard.”
For a moment, Richard couldn’t even form a coherent thought in his mind. He never expected this. He searched around in his brain for something, anything to say. All his preparation had been for naught.
“I beg your pardon?” he managed to say at last. He had been so certain of a fight. This seemed like a fight, but not the kind for which he had girded himself.
“I mean exactly what I said,” his grandmother replied, lifting her cup in both hands. “I consider myself a sterling judge of character. I saw something in that girl the moment she came into the room. She has borne tragedy in her young life. Moreover, she is devoted to you.”
“Do you think so?” He was momentarily elated at the thought that Laura cared as much for him as he did for her. It eased the sting of Grandmother’s words.
“I know so. I could see it in her eyes.” She took a sip of tea. “She has everything to lose, though, whilst you stand to gain a great deal. What if you tire of her, as you have of every other young woman you’ve met? What, then, for Miss Stephens? She’s not your plaything. She has no family she can rely upon, and no place to go where she can be free.”
“I don’t stand to gain everything,” he interceded roughly. “What if she hates me? What then? I cannot live without her. Now that I have a family of my own, I cannot bear to be parted from them.”
“Your situation is vastly different from hers, as I am certain you would allow—if you were more temperate in your manner.” She set her cup aside and faced him squarely. “You are speaking from passion, Richard. It always was your failing. I love you more than any of my other grandchildren, but I still perceive your flaws. If you are going to be a father and a husband, rational thinking trumps passion every time.”
“What would you have me do?” It was demoralizing to have his grandmother scold him about his flaws and his past affairs, especially when he had been riding the wings of fervent love all morning. “What I say is true. Laura is not like any other woman I’ve known. You can chide me for my past indiscretions all you like, Grandmother. It will not change my heart, because I know I am right.”
“I would think a little freedom would be good for Miss Stephens.” Grandmother sighed. “Poor girl. It couldn’t have been an easy life. If you are coming here to ask me to refrain from taking them to Derbyshire, I would have to say no. Marguerite should be raised by the family until you are married. Moreover, I find it indelicate that you are living with Miss Stephens—that she is a live-in part of your household.” She sighed and shook her grey head? “My brother is right about this. I know you don’t agree with me, or with Danby, but in time you will see that we are correct, and that we are only protecting Marguerite and Miss Stephens.”
Richard stood so quickly his chair fell over, landing on the wooden floor with a satisfying crash. “I doubt that,” he snapped. He took his leave without bothering to say goodbye, slamming the door to the townhouse so hard that the knocker rattled.
He strode through the nearly-empty streets, trying mightily to clear his head. Grandmother was wrong. His entire family, in fact, was mistaken. They could not see the transformation that the past few months had wrought within him. They were still thinking of him as a lad, a boy who loved to chase after pretty women. Well, those days were long behind him.
He paused before the window of a jewelry shop. How many times in the past had he come to this very location to buy a pretty little bauble for the latest in his string of conquests?
Well, no more. He was not that man any longer. He stared at his reflection in the glass, haggard and unkempt. He was a man in love, not just with a woman, but with an entire family.
And unless he took immediate action, as he had felt so many times before, he would lose them.
Chapter 9
“She is doing much better, as I suspected,” Doctor Barnes pronounced, packing his bag. He glanced over at Laura. “Keep giving her water, or even very weak tea. Make sure she gets plenty of rest. I predict she will be running around the house again in no time at all.”
Relief coursed through Laura, leaving her light-headed in its wake. She had suspected as much, but having it confirmed by the doctor made her feel light as a feather. “Oh, thank you, sir. I do appreciate you coming back to check on our girl.”
“Of course.” He picked up his bag, and put on his hat. “Do not hesitate to call upon me if she worsens.” Then, with a quick wink to Marguerite, he left the room.
Laura sank onto the edge of the bed, smiling at her charge. She was propped against several pillows, playing idly with her doll. Already, her eyes were drooping.
“Come, my dear. It’s time to rest.” Laura rose and drew the curtains, shutting out the mid-morning sunlight. Marguerite snuggled underneath her blankets, all too ready to sleep—another sure sign that she wasn’t feeling like herself.
Laura patted Marguerite’s back soothingly and rhythmically until the little girl’s posture relaxed and her breathing became slow and heavy. Then she rose from the bed, careful not to jostle Marguerite as she moved. She stifled a yawn. It was so tempting to slip over to Marguerite’s room and take a quick nap. After all, Captain Carew was out, and the household staff was going about their duties, not requiring any instruction from her.
But habit was too ingrained within her. Hadn’t she learned to use every waking moment to be industrious? She would work on another frock for Marguerite in the little sitting room off her bedroom. That would allow her to be close by if Marguerite awoke and needed her.
As she crossed he room, Roberts opened the door. “Excuse me, Miss Stephens,” he murmured in a low undertone. “The Duke of Danby has come to call, and with him is the Dowager Marchioness of Westchester.”
Laura’s heart leapt into her throat. Not another family enclave. Surely matters had been settled the day before. “Would you kindly tell them that the captain is out?” She stepped out of the room, and Roberts followed.
“I di
d tell them, but they said they are not here to see the captain. They are here to speak with you.” Roberts gave her a sympathetic smile. “Of course, I could say you are too busy with the little one…”
“No, thank you, Roberts. They must have a particular reason for coming. It would be rude of me to hide myself away.” Even though it was awfully tempting to do so, for she was no match for anyone today. Ever since awakening with the captain that morning, she had felt utterly out of step with her own character. Surely a good night’s sleep—in her own bed, with no captain anywhere in sight—would set her back to rights.
She followed Roberts down the stairs and into the sitting room. The duke and the dowager marchioness broke off their conversation as she entered the room. Her ladyship was splendidly arrayed in a gown of violet silk, with a charming bonnet atop her gray curls. Laura’s own drab gray dress seemed even shabbier by comparison. And her hair—she had dragged a brush through it earlier and wound it into a top knot, but it hardly looked elegant. In fact, she must look awful.
Utterly demoralized before they even had a chance to speak, she nodded to them both. “Your Grace, and your ladyship,” she murmured, dropping a brief curtsy.
“Come, sit down,” Lady Westchester ordered, patting the seat of a chair beside her. “I know you’ve been up all night nursing our Marguerite. Richard told me so this morning over breakfast. You must be exhausted. How does she fare this morning?”
“Much better. The doctor just left, and he said she needed rest. He made me promise that I would have her drink water and weak tea often, until she begins to feel more herself again.” Was that the reason they were here? Perhaps they wanted to see how long it would be until Marguerite was well enough that she could be moved. “I am not sure when you wish for us to leave for Derbyshire, but I am certain she will be well enough within a week.”
“The move to Derbyshire is the question of the hour, it seems,” the Duke of Danby spoke for the first time since Laura entered the room. “It seems that when Richard came over to his parents’ house this morning, he told my sister—” he indicated her ladyship with a languid wave of his hand—“that he would not be parted, either from you or from Marguerite.”
A wild hope flamed within Laura’s breast, causing her heart to skip a beat. Had Richard really said as much? She struggled with a polite, noncommittal response. “I know he loves Marguerite. At first, when I came here, he didn’t seem that attached to her. Now, I really do believe he considers her his daughter.”
Danby frowned. “He also claimed a keen attachment to you, Miss Stephens.”
She didn’t know what to say. At any other time, given adequate sleep, given a proper bath and time to style her hair, given a clean gown to wear, and several bracingly hot cups of tea, she would have a sound answer for the duke. But not today. She merely turned her gaze toward the rug. She could think of nothing to say.
“Miss Stephens, I have the gift of reading a person’s character within the first moments of meeting someone new. Yesterday, I formed an impression of you.” Her ladyship looked at her, frank kindness in her gaze. “You are no fortune hunter. You have had more than your fair share of misfortunes and trials. While I think my grandson has every right to love you—after all, you will strengthen his character and compliment him better than anyone—I do not want you to feel as though you must accept a proposal of marriage from him.”
Heat coursed into Laura’s cheeks. Was she dreaming? Surely the lack of sleep was making her imagine this strange scenario. “I don’t understand,” she admitted. It was the truth, after all.
“My sister is offering you some measure of freedom.” The duke peered at her with the cleverest blue eyes. “I’ve no objection to the match. In the past, I admit, I would try to scheme Richard into matrimony. He was the second son, and it was my job to see all of the family members married well.” He sighed. “Of course, Richard took an extreme dislike to what he considers my meddling, but it paid off well. He’s independent now, and can marry where he chooses.”
“But you are not independent,” her ladyship broke in softly, gazing at Laura. “You need him for your livelihood. You might feel as though you must accept a proposal of marriage from him in order to live. I am offering you some small measure of sovereignty. If you do not want to marry Richard, you may come and work for me as a paid companion. I will easily pay you twice what my grandson has paid you as a governess. I travel often, and need someone in my advanced years whose company I can tolerate reasonably well. You will not have to seek a position elsewhere, nor would you have to return to your school.”
Laura lifted her gaze to Lady Westchester’s. The older woman smiled with kind sympathy. How she had discerned the truth about Laura’s past life, there was no way to know. It was nice to learn that her ladyship cared enough about her to offer her employment. On the other hand, both the duke and the dowager seemed quite certain that a proposal of marriage was soon to come from the captain.
“I thank you for your kind offer,” she began hesitantly. “But I cannot leave Marguerite. You should have seen how upset she was when her nursemaid returned to France. And of course, she has lost her mother. Already she has dealt with so much turmoil and loss—I could not bear for her to go through it again. I will stay with her as long as she has need of me.”
The duke and her ladyship exchanged a glance—the kind of look that communicated volumes without a single word. “Very well,” Lady Westchester replied. “I applaud your willingness to care for Marguerite. It is quite admirable, I must say. Though I will mourn the loss of you as a companion.”
Laura smiled. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You seem to be avoiding the entire subject of Richard,” the duke spoke up. “So I will come straight to the point. I have no objection to the match, and neither does my sister.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she murmured. Somehow, she didn’t quite feel equal to his gaze. “But I am sure no marriage proposal is in the offing.”
The sitting room door banged open, and Laura jumped in her seat. Richard stood in the doorway, lean and haggard, his eyes burning.
“Ah, Richard,” the duke said, his voice languorous. “We were just speaking to Miss Stephens.”
“I can see that.” Richard’s hands clenched into fists. “About what, may I ask?”
“My dear boy.” The duke gave Richard a haughty smile that made Laura’s stomach drop. “Your marriage, of course.”
Richard gazed at the trio, his heart giving a painful thud. Laura did not seem upset, though she was so skilled at hiding her emotions that it was hard to tell. “My marriage? To whom? Do you have another match planned for me, sir?”
“Of course I do.” The duke gave him the same acidic smile that he always had in these dealings. “But I doubt you will object to my choice.”
Grandmother placed her hand on the duke’s sleeve. “Jonathan, don’t be so insufferable.” She glanced up at Richard. “And, Richard, stop standing in that doorway, glowering at us like a pirate. Come in and shut the door like a gentleman.”
Hot anger burned through Richard’s being, but he closed the door and came to stand before the hearth. He gave Laura a long, searching look. Had his relatives come simply to tell her to leave his employment? If Danby was here, it was sure to be a question of matrimony. The duke rarely concerned himself with other matters.
Laura’s cheeks were pinker than usual and the dark shadows under her eyes spoke to the late night she had endured, but her expression was calm.
“If you please, I think I can explain the matter succinctly,” Laura spoke up in her clear, sweet voice. She glanced up at Richard. “You see, your grandmother and His Grace were under the mistaken impression that you were going to propose to me. Your grandmother offered me employment as her companion instead.”
Richard stared at them all for a moment, unable to adequately comprehend Laura’s words. “Why would you do that, Grandmother?” he managed after a lengthy pause.
“As I said earl
ier this morning, a little freedom would be good for Miss Stephens,” she replied evenly. “So I offered her a bit of liberty. She refused, however. Her devotion to Marguerite is most pleasing.”
“Yes. It was her loving dedication to my ward that made me, in turn, fall in love with her.” He hadn’t meant to say it thus, in front of everyone. In his mind, on the long walk home, he had pictured taking her out to the sunny back garden. She would sit on a bench, and he would hold her hand. Then, with the sweet summer breeze ruffling her lovely hair, he would propose.
But if Grandmother and Danby had come here to interfere, or to meddle in any way, he had to speak out now, without waiting for a romantic interlude.
He turned to focus solely on Laura. As his eyes searched hers, he grew calm. He knew now, with certainty, what he would say.
“I don’t care what Grandmother or Danby want for me,” he began slowly. “All I know is that I love you, Laura. I cannot bear to be parted from you. If I allow myself to think about what my life will be like once you are gone to Derbyshire—I just can’t. It hurts too much.”
Laura’s blue eyes filled with tears, and she nodded slowly. “I understand. I feel the same way.”
At last, the confirmation he needed—Laura loved him, too. He reached down and grabbed her hands in his, pulling her into his arms. “Marry me, then, and we need never be parted. We are already a family—you, Marguerite, and I. Why would we throw away the kind of treasure that most people spend years trying to create?” He reached into his jacket pocket for the ring he had purchased that morning. “Say you will be mine,” he begged, slipping it onto her finger.
“I will.” She buried her face into the lapel of his jacket.
He held her close, drawing strength from her trembling frame. Laura was going to be his, and they would be a family together, with little Marguerite. He was the richest man in London right now, in this moment. He had done nothing to deserve this wondrous treasure, but he would spend the rest of his life in breathless gratitude for it all.
