The Heir's Proposal

by Maggi Andersen

  Addie didn’t want to dress like her mother. She was small and not nearly as beautiful. She preferred the slim outline of her apricot crepe de chine dress with white mother-of-pearl buttons and the long string of amber beads. “This is in the latest style, Papa.”

  “Skirts are growing shorter,” he remarked. “A woman in the village showed a good deal of her limbs riding past me on a bicycle. Women are so different these days. It’s difficult to get used to.”

  “You can’t be complaining about a lady’s ankle, surely,” she teased him.

  “I’m not dead yet, Addie.” He laughed, and some much-needed color returned to his face.

  As they sat quietly sipping their drinks, his eyes darkened. He worried about her future. What would happen to her when he left her alone, now that they measured his life in months, and not years? Especially, with the news from Europe emblazoned on every newspaper’s front page every day, the details of which grew ever more frightening since the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and his wife Sophie in June in Sarajevo, a town in Bosnia.

  “There is something we need to discuss.”

  “What is it, Papa?”

  “Britain has declared war on Germany.”

  Addie drew in a shaky breath. “Yes, but I don’t understand why our country must be involved, Papa.”

  “You’d have to ask Bryce for the details. Britain protested against the violation of Belgian neutrality, guaranteed by the Treaty of London and The German Chancellor replied that the treaty is just a chiffon de papier.” Her father’s voice sounded strained. “Have you given any thought to what I discussed with you?” he asked. “You’ve had two Seasons, Addie. And you’ve met no one you wish to marry. I allowed you that, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, Papa.” It was true she had rebuffed several gentlemen. They just didn’t hold any interest for her.

  “You know I want to see you and Bryce wed before…” He waved his hand.

  Tears stung her eyes and she took a deep breath. She studied her drink, the warm reddish-gold color reflected in the sparkling crystal glass. “I wish I could do this one thing you ask of me, Papa, but Bryce and I will only ever be friends.” She placed a hand over his thin, frail one. “You must not worry; I will be all right. Bryce will see I am. I don’t have to marry him for that.”

  “But Langley will no longer be yours. I know how happy you are here. Are you prepared to lose your home? You know, Addie,” he said with a gentle smile, “Sometimes, the happiest couples begin marriage as friends.”

  “Perhaps, but I don’t want to marry him. Bryce doesn’t wish to marry me either. Oh, I’m sure he’d do his duty if you pressed him, because he adores you. But I couldn’t bear for him to sacrifice himself for me. Not when he is in love with someone else.”

  “Are you sure that’s true?”

  “Yes. He’s loved Diana for years.”

  “But she doesn’t appear to return his love. I’ve seen no sign of it. Are they courting?”

  “No. I don’t know what Diana feels about Bryce. She has quarreled with her step-mother and left home. She’s taken a flat in London.”

  “Good heavens.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand you young women today. You and Diana should marry. You’re almost twenty-one. Don’t either of you want children?”

  “I do. I can’t speak for Diana.” She felt the heavy weight of guilt and sadness that she couldn’t please him when he’d done so much for her and asked so little in return. She wanted so much to allow him to go to his final rest easy in his mind about her. But she had to think of Bryce, who had his whole life ahead of him.

  “I’ve been a terrible disappointment to you, haven’t I?” She gazed into her father’s weary eyes, knowing his answer, and watched a fond smile lift his face.

  “You know that isn’t true. You are a constant joy to me, my dear. I see your mother in you, more each day.”

  “Mummy was prettier.”

  They looked up at the portrait of her mother, her delicate-features, and lovely smile. The artist had captured the warmth in her brown eyes.

  “Your mother was a beautiful woman.” He reached out a finger to touch Addie’s nose. “You are too, in your way, my dear, but not if you screw up your nose like that.”

  They shared a laugh, to cast off the weighty problems that plagued their waking moments.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Bryce paused on the threshold of the drawing room. Treated as one of the family, their butler, Bellamy saw no need to announce him. Bryce savored the sight of Addie and her father, their heads close together. Two of his favorite people in all the world. The fire crackled and spat in the grate. There were always fires at Langley, because of Lord Sherringham’s fragile health. The pair presented a cozy picture, but one that pulled at his heart.

  One might think those two hadn’t a care in the world, when so much threatened their very existence. He would do his best to reassure Lord Sherringham that he was leaving Addie in safe hands. Cared for. With England at war, she would be vulnerable. But she resisted any discussion of marriage, even though he persisted. Their marriage would ensure her future here after her father died. Who knew what England faced in the ensuing years? A war could threaten the very existence of Langley. The storm clouds over Europe would descend upon England soon. He must do his bit for his country. And he might not survive. It became even more important for he and Addie to marry. But she didn’t want him.

  Addie turned and saw him.

  “Why so pensive, Bryce? You look so stuffy.” Addie rose to cross the brown-toned Aubusson carpet to greet him. “Is it cool outside? Its unseasonable weather, isn’t it? Sit by the fire and have a brandy. That will cheer you. You can have my chair.” She cast him an impish smile. “See how nice I am to you?”

  “Stuffy, am I?” he inquired, aiming a quick peck at her cheek.

  “Adelaide! You have forgotten your manners.” Her father unconsciously lapsed into the parental mold which served him through all the years of their squabbles.

  He shook Bryce’s hand, without attempting to rise from his chair and disturb the rug over his knees. “How are you, m’boy? No need to answer. It is obvious you’re fit as a fiddle. All this talk of war. Plan to remain in the diplomatic service?”

  Bryce was considering another position, which he could not reveal. He sat down and stretched his legs toward the warmth. “I’m not sure, sir. With how things are. My talents seem to lie in that direction.” He glanced at Addie. “I’ve been well schooled in diplomacy growing up in proximity to your daughter.”

  Lord Sherringham chuckled.

  Addie’s amused brown eyes surveyed him from over the top of her glass. “Why Bryce, I don’t believe you’ve learned a thing. You have never used tact with me. You are always brutally frank, in fact.”

  Bryce raised an eyebrow.

  Bellamy entered the room. “Dinner is served, my lord.”

  Addie put an end to her ribbing, and leaped up to help her father, who had risen to his feet, but their stoic butler was there before her.

  “Allow me, Bellamy,” Bryce said.

  “Let’s not keep the servants waiting,” Lord Sherringham said taking up his silver-topped cane, his hand resting on Bryce’s arm. “It’s hard enough to keep things hot in the journey from the kitchen to the dining room. Perhaps you could look into that, my boy. I’m sure you’ll bring innovative ideas to this old place.”

  Bryce and he chattered about the ways and means to deal with the problem as they walked down the long gallery, Bryce matching his stride to the old gentleman’s careful pace.

  Along the walls, portraits of past ancestors hung in various studied poses. Walking ahead, Addie gave her usual salute to her great grandmother, gazing down upon them with a canny expression. Behind her, Bryce chuckled. They passed through the set of double doors into the dining room papered with red chinoiserie patterned wallpaper. An Italian crystal chandelier hung from the beamed ceiling. The pair of silver can
delabra on the long table infused the Spode china, crystal glassware, Georgian silverware and mirrors with radiance. A fine Constable painting of a turbulent sea hung on the wall.

  Once seated, Bellamy brought in the decanted wine from the cellar and poured it into the glasses.

  As the first of five courses, the trout in butter sauce, was served, the conversation roamed from the war, to stocking the river, and then to horses. Addie sat quietly, offering little comment. To see her so worried about her father saddened him.

  Lord Sherringham retired early, and Bryce played a game of chess with Addie. Addie won far too easily because he couldn’t get his mind to settle.

  She eyed him as he rose from the chess table. “Shall we go for a walk?”

  “It’s cool out.”

  “It’s a lovely cloudless night. I’ll put on my coat.”

  He helped her into the coat, and they left the house. Addie carried a bag of apples, and they strolled in silence down the avenue lined with aged oaks toward the stables. They had sold most of the horses. Addie’s roan mare, Poppy, and the gelding, Major, Bryce’s mount when he stayed here as her father no longer rode, remained, both too old to appeal to the army, and the pair of carriage horses. As they approached, the horses whickered in their boxes.

  They stood as Poppy munched the apple her big soft eyes resting on them.

  “I didn’t tell your father, but they will send me on a diplomatic mission at some stage,” Bryce said.

  “Oh!” She turned to look at him. “Not somewhere dangerous?”

  “Unlikely. Diplomats talk they don’t fight in the trenches.”

  “I expected you to go. You needn’t worry about me, however. I intend to do my bit for the war effort.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I’m not sure yet. More women are taking jobs. I was talking about this yesterday on the telephone to Diana.”

  “How is she?” Bryce asked.

  “Why don’t you see her? Find out for yourself?”

  “Diana doesn’t want to see me. And besides, I’ve been thinking you and I…”

  “Please don’t say it, Bryce,” Addie pleaded, turning back toward the house. “I want more from life than being a social butterfly.”

  “Your mother was always busy with charity work, visiting hospitals and workhouses, and holding fund-raising dinners, balls, and bazaars, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes. But she would have liked to do more.”

  He strode after her and slipped his arm through hers. “We would be good together.”

  “You don’t love me.”

  “I love you, duchess. I care very much for you. You know that.”

  “There you go, calling me by your old pet name,” she said pulling away from him. “I’m still just the immature girl you liked to boss around. That’s not romance. And I want romance.”

  “We haven’t given romance a chance.” Bryce was annoyed with himself. He’d always called her duchess because she adopted airs and graces to get him to do what she wanted. And had mostly succeeded.

  She turned to look up at him. “I doubt it works that way.”

  “It might.” He wanted to shake some sense into her. His gaze dropped to her inviting mouth as he considered whether to kiss her. He’d curbed his feelings for her, which had grown in the last couple of years. She didn’t want to marry him. She might wish to find someone else, although she didn’t meet anyone during her two London seasons. But that could be because of her concern for her father. Bryce would have backed off and given her time, except for the war. Every man he knew was enlisting. What if he didn’t survive and the estate went to Gordon Phillips-Smythe, an inveterate gambler who cared nothing for Langley or Addie?

  Bryce felt the tension in Addie’s arm and realized a kiss would be a mistake. She was so set against him. He walked with her back to the house. “I don’t want to go away worried about you,” he said as they neared the front door.

  “You have no reason to be. I have my allowance.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I can work with horses. You taught me to drive a car. I can even fix a leaky pipe. I’ve learned to do a lot; these last few years.”

  He nodded. “We’re facing a difficult world, Addie. A very unsafe one.”

  He felt her shiver before she drew her arm away from his. “Yes, we are,” she said soberly. “Let’s have that drink.”

  Chapter two

  Langley, February 1915

  In the parlor, Addie poured Bryce a cup of tea. “Christmas was so grim. I’m relieved it’s behind us. I’m almost glad Papa isn’t here to witness what’s occurring. He would hate to see our country suffering so much with this war.”

  Through the window the sun brightened the majestic trees of the park. There was a glimmer of water where the meadows ran down to the river. Impossible to conceive that Langley might not remain like this for years to come.

  Bryce took a swig of tea and put his cup back in its saucer. He leaned down to fondle the ears of her father’s dog, Goldie. The dog still missed her master.

  Addie’s father had been gone for three months. Although Bryce kept in constant touch with her, he spent most of his time in London now, and they had not yet settled the date when he would take his rightful place here.

  She glanced at him over the rim of her cup. An impatient sweep of his hand tousled his dark hair after she announced her intention to live in London. She knew he wouldn’t approve, and while she loved that he cared about her wellbeing, it frustrated her how he still tried to control her.

  “I appreciate you giving me time to mourn Papa,” she said. “It’s hard now to find somewhere to live. Thank heavens, Diana has invited me to share her flat in Lewisham. I’d like to put my education to good use and assist her with this new venture of hers.”

  He frowned. “Can she afford to employ you?”

  “No. I neither need nor want her to pay me.”

  “Your inheritance is tied up until you’re twenty-five, though, isn’t it?”

  “My allowance is generous.”

  “It might not seem so once you leave Langley. Have you discussed this with Diana?”

  “Not yet.” Addie had attempted to several times, but Diana neatly sidestepped her for months. Although she welcomed Addie’s company, she’d stated flatly that working in the publishing industry was not right for everyone. “It’s a tough business,” she’d said. “I must deal with men, and they are not gentlemen. They are hard-nosed businessmen. This isn’t a fashion magazine, like the ones we poured over years ago. While I intend it to be for women, it will cover more gritty issues and I’ll publish stories from soldiers’ experiences of war, with no holds barred.”

  Addie couldn’t believe Diana, who considered herself modern, would have such an old-fashioned view. But Diana didn’t hail from the aristocracy, her father was a self-made man. She considered aristocrats to be a lazy, useless lot. She was fond of Addie’s father, she’d known since her childhood.

  “You think I’m too soft?” Addie had argued. “That I’ve been kept in cotton wool?” Diana denied it, and Addie suspected something else lay behind her reluctance to employ her. Addie tried to discover the reason so she could change her friend’s mind. But she was more concerned with Bryce’s reluctance to take over Langley. It was because he knew that once he moved in, she would leave.

  “When do you plan to move in?” she asked him. “The staff need to know where they stand. Some have given their notice. Those not joining up want to seek other employment. Harold from the dairy is to work in the munition’s factory. I don’t know how I’ll be able to replace him.”

  “Leave it to me,” Bryce said. “Much of the house will have to be closed up. The furniture covered with dust sheets. I’ll move in next week, consult the staff then. But I don’t expect to be in England long. There’s word I’ll be sent to Belgium.”

  Addie firmed her lips. He must not know how much those words disturbed her. The German troops had marched thr
ough Belgium into France. And since Britain had agreed to maintain the neutrality of Belgium, they immediately declared war on Germany and fought them at the Battle of Mons. The streets of London had become unrecognizable overnight. While the theatres along the Strand were still open with people seeking a distraction, the Royal Opera House had become a furniture store.

  “But you manage a large estate. Langley supplies the government with food. Isn’t that enough for an exemption?”

  “Addie, I work for the government. My job is important. I can’t simply walk away from it. But there is a way to solve the problem of running the estate while I’m away.”

  “And that is?” she asked, knowing the answer.

  “We should marry. Right away. You can manage this estate better than I can.”

  At the odd thudding of her heart, Addie took a steadying breath. “I can’t marry you, Bryce.”

  “Is there someone else?”

  “You know there isn’t. It’s not about that.”

  “If you won’t stay here, I’ll consider leasing the house,” he said bluntly. “The army can make excellent use of the land. I hear they have requisitioned several estates.”

  She swallowed at the thought of strangers wandering among her father’s prized possessions. Sifting through their history with casual indifference, or worse, avid curiosity. “Our Sherringham ancestors will turn in their graves.”

  He nodded, his expression hard to read. “Let’s wait and see, shall we?”

  “Surely the war won’t go on for much longer?”

  “I am privy to information you won’t find in the newspapers,” he said gentling his voice. “I’m afraid the war doesn’t look like ending this year, or maybe even the next.”