His Disinclined Bride (Seasons of Change Book 7)

by Jennie Goutet

  “Would you choose to have your quarterly income withheld?” Lord Midlington shot back.

  Phineas leaned forward to set his teacup on the table nearest him. “You may do so if you are inclined, but it will not be troublesome, for as I have said, Miss Stokes comes with a substantial settlement.” Phineas was nearly ill from the conflict, but there was nothing for it but to see the interview through to completion.

  However, his father did not seem ready to bring things to an end. “You are marrying a cit. Tainting your blood for money. You would've had both bloodline from the peerage and a comfortable alliance if you had just done what I’d said. You've always been obstinate, Phineas. I cannot understand you. But I will tell you that I am not pleased with this match. Very far from it.”

  Phineas allowed a small sigh to escape him. “I had not expected you would be, Father. But you must not be surprised if I do not marry to please you. I am a man now with definite ideas for how to live my life. And although it is not my intention to give offense, those ideas do not involve living under your thumb.” He paused. The words had been perhaps too hastily spoken. He needed to rein in his temper. “I will bring my own estate into order and see that it is profitable before moving forward. If you wish me to continue to care for Midlington, I will gladly do so as it will one day be mine. But I will see to my own affairs as well. This decision of mine was not made in haste.”

  Lord Midlington turned, as if to leave, then paused and set his hands on the chair back. “If you’d had a stronger character—had shown a bit of heat, we might have rubbed along rather well. There is nothing I can do to disinherit you now—not that I wish to do so, for that would cause people to talk—but I will not hide from you my extreme displeasure. You will live to regret this mistake.”

  Phineas stood and bowed before Lord Midlington. “I am sorry to be such a disappointment to you, Father.”

  He remained standing until his father had left the room, then sat across from Lady Midlington, who had not moved. She sipped her tea calmly, the light from a nearby window playing on her blonde strands. She was still a handsome woman, despite having long since quit the first bloom of youth. Minutes ticked by, and her silence spoke volumes—it was often used as a weapon for her displeasure.

  “Well, Mother, I imagine you will wish to ring a peal over my head, as well—particularly since Father did not give you a chance to do so.” Phineas said this with a slight smile, but it took everything in him to keep to light banter, when all he wanted was to seek the solace of his room.

  “When have I ever wrung a peal over your head?” she asked. While his mother rarely raised her voice, she could express her sentiments on a topic fluently without uttering a word. He’d hoped she had forgotten her question, but he was out of luck, for she asked again. “What sort of woman is she? Does she seem gently-bred?”

  Lady Midlington extended her hand for Phineas’s teacup, and he offered it for her to refill. He waited in silence as she stirred in more sugar and handed it back. “I haven't the faintest idea, Mother. We have not been presented.”

  She looked up in surprise. “You have not met your future bride?”

  He shook his head. “We had not the chance. She was visiting her sister.”

  “Did you see a likeness?” his mother pressed. “What sort of looks does she have?”

  Phineas exhaled. It seemed a little foolish now—this quirk of his not to lay eyes on even the portrait of his betrothed. “I did not wish to see a likeness. I did not ask for it. I do not know how she looks, but I believe I may trust Carter that she does not have a squint and is not missing her teeth.”

  Lady Midlington lifted her eyes upward then turned them to Phineas, her mouth forming a prim line. When Phineas did not rise to the bait of her unspoken accusations, she spelled it out for him in staccato speech. “A girl smelling of the shop, whose manners you have not had time to ascertain, whose face you have not laid eyes on. Phineas, I do not know what you were thinking. I am afraid this will all be a mistake.”

  “If it is a mistake,” Phineas said, “it was mine to make.” He drained his tea and settled back in his chair, mastering his impulse to flee. Better his mother put forth all her objections at once. Beyond a doubt, she would wish to revisit them over the course of the month—she never did engage Phineas in idle chatter without missing the opportunity to censure—but he suspected there would be less scolding later on if he did not thwart her chance for it now.

  2

  A ray of sun cut through the October chill and ushered Kitty into her brother’s townhouse, the footman behind her struggling under the weight of her trunk. As soon as the sounds of her arrival filtered through the house, a clatter of feet resounded on the stairwell.

  “Kitty, look at the bow and arrow I have whittled all by myself. I was able to have a strip of hickory wood to make the bow, which stretches mighty fine. And here”—Kitty's brother, Samuel, held out an arrow with feathers on one end and a triangular bit of metal attached to the other—“I tied this together and added grouse feathers. You shall see how it flies. Look!”

  “I wish you would not, Samuel,” Kitty warned. “You will only succeed in hitting Erasmus’s favorite painting and bring down a sharp scold on your head. You may take me outside to the park later and show me how far the arrow will go.”

  “Kitty!” Edward and Helen, her nephew and niece, were hot on the heels of their older cousin. Edward held out a bow he had made as well, whose cords dangled sadly. “I made one, too, but Samuel did not give me any of his wood, so I had to use whatever branch I could find when I went out with Jemima. Mine will not bend the same way.”

  Kitty turned to Samuel with a disapproving look. “What an infamous thing to do,” she said. “I'm sure you did not share your wood with him because you knew Edward would make a better bow than you.” She winked at her brother to take the sting out of her words, but Samuel, still young enough to need to win would not hear of it. “You shall see, Eddie. I will give you the same wood, and you will make another bow, and the arrow will not go as far as mine.”

  “Kitty—” The plaintive voice came from Helen, who was holding up a doll. “The dress you made for Theodosia has torn. I asked Mother to fix it, but she said she had no time and that you would do it when you came home.”

  Helen was near to tears, and Kitty knew that the sound would drive her brother out of his study in a black mood. She took the doll carefully. “Oh dear! Theodosia has had to wait ever so long to have her dress repaired. But I shall take care of it just as soon as I have put my things away and changed my gown. First, however, I would very much like a hug from each of you.”

  Samuel came reluctantly, which was only to be expected. Having obtained the ripe age of eight years the month prior, it would not be long before her brother would offer Kitty nothing more than a cursory bow. Edward and Helen wasted no time throwing their arms around Kitty, and it restored her heart. The visit to her newly married sister, Mrs. Drusilla Mardley, had been a pleasant distraction. But once Kitty had been brought up to date on all her news, she began to miss the voices and youthful chatter that came with spending the days with her small niece, nephews, and brother.

  Mary Stokes came down the stairs, holding William in her arms. “Oh, it is you, Kitty. Erasmus informed me you would be home today and that he wished to speak with you as soon as you arrived. I've had my hands full with the children, as you can see. So I will not be able to accompany you to your room.”

  “Never mind that,” Kitty said, opening her arms for William. “May I?” Her sister-in-law handed William over, and Kitty tickled his belly until he laughed. She kissed the top of his head as she cuddled him in her arms, breathing in his baby smell. It had been a diverting trip, but a month was long and it was good to be home.

  Kitty gave William back to his mother. “I can only imagine how you have been busy. I hope Samuel has not been causing you too much trouble without me here to lend a hand.”

  Mary was quick to correct that notion.
“I fear he will lead Edward astray. Why, he just had him learning to make arrows. Before I know it, Helen or William shall be shot straight through the heart.”

  “I hardly think Samuel will encourage Edward to use the children for target practice.” Kitty stopped herself and sought a more conciliatory tone, glancing at Samuel, who peered up from under his blond curls with sullen eyes. “Surely not. They are both good boys—and creative, too.”

  “Perhaps my Edward is”—Mary primmed her lips and flicked her eyes in Samuel’s direction—“but Samuel is getting more and more difficult to manage. I shall be glad when he goes off to Harrow.” She rounded on Kitty. “And of course you would dismiss my worries about the boys. You have always encouraged them to wildness.”

  Kitty summoned a smile and paused a beat before responding. “Their high spirits are merely a sign of health and industry. It does them no harm, in my esteem.”

  Mary shifted William to her other hip and shooed the children away. “Edward, Helen, Samuel. Go find Nurse and tell her she must look after you.” When they had run off, she shot Kitty a look of reproof. “I believe my Edward would be the perfect mix of gentleness and spiritedness if it were not for Samuel’s influence.”

  The subject brought Kitty a familiar pang. Her father had died when Samuel was only a year, and his young wife had not been devoted enough to her new family—or her baby—to remain and take charge of him. At twelve, Kitty had hardly been the best person to look after baby Samuel, but Erasmus and Mary were settling in as newlyweds, and the role had fallen easily enough on her.

  Kitty repressed a sigh. “Samuel will soon enough go off to school, as you said. And as my eldest brother’s wife, it is you who have overseen the charge of raising him.” She regretted the hasty words as soon as they flew out of her mouth. She had never been good at holding her tongue when her temper was aroused.

  “I do not have as much influence on Samuel as you do. But on that, I shall say no more.” Mary looked toward the study, frowning. “I believe Erasmus is ready to speak with you as soon as you may be available.”

  “Let him know that I will be down once I change. Albert, please have someone bring these to my room.” Kitty indicated the boxes still remaining in the entrance and took leave of her sister-in-law with a cordial smile.

  She walked to the stairs with measured steps, lifting her pink-striped percale skirt as she went up. She had hoped for a better welcome. The tension with her sister-in-law had been mounting since before her visit, but Kitty had thought that the distance would help Mary to appreciate her and the help she brought to the family. Kitty spent her days entertaining the children and assisting Mary and the nurse with whatever needed to be done. It was a small price to pay to have a comfortable place to live and to be part of the childrens’ growing up—to see her half-brother have something akin to siblings his own age, even if he was technically their uncle.

  Kitty had always hoped to fall in love, marry, and have children of her own, although she had never met anyone who inspired in her a desire for more than a passing acquaintance. She did not possess a dowry—a lack of foresight on her father's part which astonished her—but she could be certain that her brother would do well by her when the right man came. However, Kitty had not yet met him. In the meantime, she would devote her energy to being the best big sister and aunt she could and enjoy the uninhibited affection the children gave her.

  In the quiet of her room, she washed her face and selected one of the gowns still in the wardrobe. The dresses in her trunk would need to have the wrinkles shaken out. She rang for a maid to help her into the fresh gown and restyle her hair. With that accomplished, Kitty went back down and knocked on the door to the study, entering when she heard her brother call out.

  Erasmus looked up from his desk and got to his feet. He walked over and gave a perfunctory kiss on her cheek. “Well, Kitty? How is Drusilla? Is she faring better?”

  Kitty smiled. “I believe her morning sickness is well on its way to being a thing of the past. She was already doing better by the time I arrived and did not so much need my assistance as my companionship. Andrew does not necessarily provide that service for her.”

  Erasmus gestured for Kitty to sit in one of the chairs near the fire, and he took the other one. “It is not the husband's job to provide companionship for his wife.”

  Kitty permitted herself a wry smile as she responded. “Job?—no. But in a marriage there can be friendship.”

  Erasmus leaned back in his chair and balanced the tips of his fingers together in his pontificating posture. “I’m sorry to inform you, but you’re naive, Kitty. You don't yet know the way of the world, and I can assure you there is rarely friendship in marriage.”

  Kitty looked away. They would never agree on this point. “I see you’ve acquired the Sèvres vase you had your eye on. What else have you added to your collection?”

  “Yes, and I had it for a very good price, too.” Erasmus pointed to another shelf. “And those two smaller bowls as well.” He had always been one who liked to possess, so it was befitting that he’d taken over the family business when their father had died. Erasmus had made a thriving company even more profitable by acquiring other smaller companies in complementary ventures and building a large fortune out of it.

  Kitty took a deep breath. “Well, I believe you did not call me here to boast of your recent purchases, and you do not generally do so for family news. You had something to discuss?”

  Her brother pulled at his cravat as if it were suddenly too tight. He didn’t answer right away but drew his brows together and stared at his hands. What in the world had he to be uncomfortable about? Kitty could not imagine, and it unsettled her. She waited in silence.

  “I have made arrangements for your future,” Erasmus said in an abrupt start. Kitty stared at him unblinkingly, and he continued. “I have contracted a very good marriage alliance for you. Lord Hayworth—it’s his courtesy title, Hayworth—but the man is heir to the Earl of Midlington. He has a large estate in Castle Combe near Bath. A most eligible match.”

  Her brother fell silent, and his look of discomfort turned to one of satisfaction. Kitty’s indignation rose. “How dare you do such a thing? To not breathe so much as a word to me about something so … so pertinent to my future as a betrothal?” Kitty attempted to control her temper, but she knew she was betrayed by her flush. She turned away from her brother’s growing obstinance, her own chin set. “I am sorry to disoblige you, but I will not marry him.”

  Erasmus shook his head. “Now, Kitty.” His tone was coaxing, but she heard the threat all the same. Her brother did not like being crossed. “Don't say hasty words you will live to regret. The contract has already been signed. You will marry him.”

  Kitty turned in her chair and levelled her gaze on her brother. “What led you to believe I would ever agree to such a scheme? How foolish to have signed a contract that you will then have to break. It is not good business, and I am astonished you attempted it.”

  Now, Erasmus’s ire had been fully roused. “Let me make one thing clear. You have been hanging on my sleeve ever since our father died. Nothing was left to you, and you have only Father to blame. But since you are wholly in my power, if I say you will get married, you will get married.”

  Kitty trembled from head to foot, and she leapt to her feet. Tears sprang from her eyes, and she wiped them away bitterly. She hated that she cried when she was angry. Such a weakness. “You have sold me, is what you have done,” she ground out, trying to control the sob that sprang up from rage. “Why did you not allow me to stay here? I have been useful to your family.”

  Erasmus was not a successful businessman for nothing, and he must have known it would do no good to push his sister to desperate measures. He adopted his coaxing tone again. “Now, Kitty, you know you don't rub along well with Mary. She thinks you take too much interest in her affairs, and that you are too high-handed, meddling in the run of her household and how she raises her children.”

/>   “If you only knew how often I bite my tongue—”

  “Let me finish. You know this isn’t your permanent home, and it was never meant to be. Young women marry then join their husband’s household.” Erasmus’s words caused more angry tears to stream down Kitty’s face, and she dug her nails into her palm to control their flow. “You have already turned down one perfectly eligible offer, and instead of sending you off to be a governess or some such thing, I’ve arranged a marriage for you with a highly sought-after viscount. And believe me, I did my research. Hayworth doesn't gamble. He has no temper that anyone knows of, he doesn't drink. He's a decent looking fellow. You should be thanking me.”

  “Thanking you!” Kitty turned and looked down at him, still sitting in his chair. “You've stripped me of my freedom. I have served your family as little more than a slave, excepting the allowance you give me, and I did it out of affection, and I thought you held some small affection for me. This is how you repay me. I would rather be a governess.” She turned to leave.

  “Don't be a fool, Kitty.” Erasmus’s words stopped her short. “A governess's life would not suit you. And your remark about being a slave is doing it much too brown. You are not cut out to be a servant—you have too much of the Stokes blood in you. Here, you have a chance to have your own family, to run your own household. Think about this offer before you turn it down.” Erasmus got to his feet. “You will come to see that it would be extremely foolish to do so.”

  Kitty moved toward the door without saying anything. There was a shard of truth in what he said, enough to make her pause. She could not trust herself to say anything else without once again breaking down in tears, and she had already shown enough weakness.

  “Think about it, and see if I am not right.”