by Abigail Agar
Finally, he had made a decision.
Although there were still many unknown things to sort through, he had to at least be honest with his dearest friend. He had to at least tell him about his lack of interest in his intended bride. Particularly knowing that Andrew cared for her, Peter felt that he had no other choice.
It was very difficult having come to this decision. For Peter, it felt as though it could be the beginning of something wonderful or the end of a friendship with someone who had meant so much to his father.
He knew that Lord Seton would be furious. If he learned the truth, if he learned that Peter did not love his daughter, there would be nothing but fury from him.
Telling Andrew about his thoughts and feelings meant that he would have to be accountable to them. It meant that someone would know what he really wanted.
The anxiety of that was overwhelming.
By the time Peter reached Andrew’s home, his nerves were at their limit.
“Peter, do come in. I was surprised to hear that you were coming over so suddenly,” Andrew said.
“Yes, forgive me for the rash nature of my stopping by,” Peter replied.
Andrew led him to the study where they took their seats and allowed the maid to bring them a bit of brandy.
“Now, tell me, what is it?” Andrew asked.
Peter took a deep breath. Once he let the words leave his mouth, he could never get them back again.
“Andrew, what if I were to tell you something that could have dreadful consequences? Would you keep a secret for me? Even if it is one that potentially impacts you?” Peter asked.
He could see from Andrew’s expression that he was frightened.
“I trust you. No matter what it is, no matter how anxious it makes me to hear you ask that question, I trust you. If you need me to remain silent, I shall remain silent,” Andrew said.
“You are certainly one of a kind. I cannot imagine any other friend like you in all the world,” Peter said.
“I am not so great as that,” Andrew replied, leaning back and drinking from his brandy.
Peter could see the look of bitterness in his eyes. He wondered if Andrew was feeling bad about the clear and evident feelings he had for Lady Seton.
“Well, you had better let me say my piece first. You may be feeling rather good about yourself once you have heard what it is that I have to say,” Peter said.
“Andrew, you know that I agreed to this marriage because of the fact that my father was a good friend of Lord Seton’s. And because of that, I decided to continue in the engagement, even when I had my misgivings,” Peter said.
“Misgivings?” Andrew asked.
“Indeed, misgivings. I hate to think that I would ever doubt somethings so important as love, but the truth is that there is no love in this instance,” he said.
Andrew stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief.
“What I mean to tell you, Andrew, is that I do not love the woman to whom I am betrothed. I think she is amazing in many ways, but the idea of marrying her is frightening to me. It is frightening because I do not think of her as a wife,” he confessed.
Andrew was speechless. He stuttered for a moment, but closed his mouth again.
“Before you say anything else, I want you to know that I have seen how well the two of you get along,” Peter said.
“Peter…“ Andrew began, looking ashamed.
“You need not worry,” Peter said. “I have no concern on the matter. I, for one, think that the two of you would be lovely together.”
“But how can you say that? She is meant to be your wife,” Andrew said. “I am a terrible friend.”
“You are nothing of the sort,” Peter said.
“I do not understand. Why on earth would you tell me these things? Surely, you cannot end the engagement now,” Andrew said.
“No, I fear I cannot. And yet for what reason am I to be forced into a marriage that I do not want?” Peter asked.
He had been thinking about this quite a bit of late. Although he had agreed to marry her initially, he had changed his mind. It would be against his will if he were to proceed.
No matter how much he wanted to hold to the decisions that he had made, it was wrong to put his intended and his dearest friend through so much suffering. They were being separated because of him.
And he did not even want it.
Indeed, it was a problem. It was a problem that only he could solve.
In order to solve that problem, he would have to go up against Lord Seton. And in doing so, he would have to accept whatever consequences were to come.
“So? What do you think you will do?” Andrew asked.
“That is what I am trying to decide. I cannot abide the thought of separating the two of you. And yet, I do worry about what is going to happen. I worry for her reputation and I worry for my own. Still, I have to ask myself what is the most important thing,” Peter said.
“Truly, I believe that it would be wrong of me to continue this engagement,” he said, decisively.
Andrew said nothing at first.
“I saw how the two of you interacted the night we first met. When she realised that it was I, and not you, to whom she was supposed to be married, I saw the disappointment in her eyes. And I know that it has been a struggle for you,” Peter said.
“You see, I am trying to understand how I could possibly end a commitment that I have made, but that does not mean I am oblivious to the things going on around me. I do see very clearly that the two of you are interested in one another,” Peter said.
“I wish that the two of you could be together,” Peter added.
Andrew looked away, sheepishly. It was obvious that he was somewhat embarrassed that his feelings had been so obvious. Moreover, Peter was certain that Andrew felt bad for loving the woman that he was supposed to marry.
Certainly, there would be men out there who would see it as a form of betrayal. They would grow jealous, potentially angry. But Peter could not do that.
He knew his heart. He knew that he, too, had been interested in someone that he should not be. He knew that there was no shame in falling in love.
The offence had not yet come. Unless the marriage had already taken place, there was no reason to be angry. No reason to feel betrayed.
Peter smiled at Andrew, encouraging him to finally speak up.
“Yes, well, perhaps that is what I would wish for as well,” Andrew said.
“And I do believe that she wishes the same. It is all quite a mess at the moment. But that is something I wish to rectify,” Peter said.
“That would be incredible. It would be amazing if it worked out and I was able to be with the woman that I love,” Andrew said.
“Yes, nothing would make me more content,” Peter said. “The two of you deserve to be happy.”
“And what of you?” Andrew asked.
“What do you mean?” Peter asked in reply.
“What is it that would make you happy?” Andrew asked.
Peter was quiet for a moment, hesitating.
He wanted to be honest with Andrew. After all, Andrew had been honest with him now.
But the thing that Peter was going to confess was something that most men in society would not wish to hear.
Affairs were one thing, but marriage to someone of another class was an entirely different order.
It was possible that Andrew would thoroughly disapprove. It was possible that he would even be angry.
“As it happens, Andrew, there is a young woman for whom I have feelings,” Peter confessed.
Andrew’s eyes went wide again.
“What? Why have you not told me? I had no idea. Who is she? And why have you allowed this engagement to go on for so long if you wish to marry another woman?” Andrew asked.
“Well, there are many complications to it. In fact, I have very little idea as to whether or not it makes any sense for me to share about this. Andrew, I do not know how you will react to this,” Peter said.
�
�You are sounding very ominous, my friend, and I do not like it. What is this nonsense about complications? I believe the matter is very simple. If you love another woman, you must marry her instead,” Andrew said.
“It isn’t that simple,” Peter said, reiterating his point.
“Listen, Peter, I am not only saying these things because I want to marry Lady Seton and I cannot so long as you are engaged to her. Although that is something that must be considered, it is hardly the primary point I wish to make. What I want you to know is that you should marry whomever you wish,” Andrew said.
Peter sighed.
“It is the governess…” he said.
Andrew eyed him, curiously.
“What is the governess? What do you mean by tha…oh…” Andrew said, trailing off as it slowly dawned on him.
“Yes,” Peter confirmed.
“You have fallen in love with the governess that teaches Lady Isla’s sisters?” Andrew asked.
“I have, indeed. I do not believe that you have met Miss Cloud. But the same night, when you and Lady Seton met and she believed that you were me, I met the governess who I thought to be her,” Peter said.
“The woman with whom you were speaking that night, of course. You have fallen in love with her? Did you know that very evening that you would not be able to get her out of your mind?” Andrews asked.
“I knew it with absolutely certainty,” Peter said.
“I understand now. I understand why it is such a terrible complication. I am sorry, Peter. It must be extraordinarily difficult to love a woman in this circumstance. As for my own hopes, they might be resolved with an end to your engagement. I could marry the woman that I love,” Andrew said.
“But it is not so for you. Even if you end your engagement to Lady Seton, you would have to fight for any sort of approval to marry the governess,” Andrew said.
“Her name is Miss Cloud,” Peter said, trying to inform him.
“Yes. Miss Cloud. She is the one you truly wish to be with,” Andrew said.
“More than anything,” Peter replied.
“It would not be easy. If you choose this, it may be as though you are going to battle,” Andrew said, warning him.
“I am not so frightened of battle,” Peter replied.
Andrew laughed.
“In that case, you have no choice. You must follow your own heart. You must chase after the woman that you wish to marry. If you love her, you must prove it to her,” Andrew said.
“How? How can I prove it?” Peter asked.
“By showing her that your love for her is more important than anything that may be said about you. By showing her that you desire her hand in marriage more than you care for the rules of society,” Andrew said.
“Yes, I suppose you are right,” Peter said.
And it was the only choice that he really had. There was nothing more for it.
He would have to find a solution.
Chapter 25
Beatrice was a bundle of nerves as she waited for Mr. Hinton to arrive.
But by the time he did, she simply wanted to run away.
“Good afternoon,” he greeted her with a flat expression.
“And good afternoon to you as well,” she said with a curtsy.
Mr. Hinton gave an awkward bow.
He was not overly attractive, but he was handsome enough. There was a dull look to his eyes, but he was of a nice shape and height, with a good strong nose and chin.
“I trust you are well,” he said without emotion.
“Indeed, thank you. And you?” she asked, feeling terribly uncomfortable.
Mr. Hinton looked around the room at Beatrice’s mother and father and Louise. His eyes remained on Louise for a moment longer than they should have. Unfortunately, it was not a matter of him being too forward and staring out of attraction.
Rather, Mr. Hinton was staring at Louise’s leg with a look of displeasure.
It immediately bothered Beatrice to see him treat her sister that way. It was frustrating enough that something so small could make such a difference in her life. But to have this man staring at it? That was completely inappropriate.
“So, I trust that we may go out for a walk?” he asked.
“Yes,” Beatrice said. “That would be lovely.”
“Well, that is why I said it,” he replied, sounding terribly rude.
Beatrice was taken aback. It was clear that Mr. Hinton was not overly interested in the idea of marrying her. Maybe he had terrible skills with interacting with others, or perhaps he just had no inclination to interacting with her, specifically. She could hardly say. She only knew that something was wrong.
Beatrice begin to wonder if his mother had forced him to accept this outing. Perhaps he had shown no interest and yet she had made him come.
If that was the case, it would make a great deal of sense. It was still a wound to her pride, but Beatrice could handle it.
In fact, she could handle it a good deal more than if he had been looking forward to the interaction and found her somehow wanting.
They made their way to the center of town where there was a lovely garden. As they begin to walk, Beatrice tried to make conversation.
“Please tell me about yourself, Mr. Hinton,” she said.
“There is not much to say. I am the son of a blacksmith. I will probably be a blacksmith as well, although I do not enjoy the work in the least,” he said.
Beatrice was surprised to hear him complain so freely. It was impolite and certainly unattractive. She wondered if he truly did not realise that he was being so unpleasant or if he thought that he was saying the right things.
“Why do you not pursue another path for work?” Beatrice asked.
“Because I am the son of a blacksmith, which means that I have been doing this and nothing else since I was twelve years of age. Who is going to give me a chance for another position now?” he asked, sounding bitter.
“I am sorry, that must be difficult,” Beatrice said, trying to sound empathetic rather than simply annoyed.
“Yes, well, much good it does me. I have a terrible expectation that I shall never be anything more than this,” he said.
“Do not think of it that way. You never know. You might find yourself doing a rather different sort of job one day. Tell me, what is it that you wish to do? What would you dream of?” Beatrice asked.
Mr. Hinton shrugged.
“Maybe carpentry,” he said.
“Lovely! It is like being a blacksmith of wood, do you not think?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful.
“A blacksmith of wood? What utter nonsense,” he mumbled under his breath.
Beatrice looked back at her mother and father who were trailing far enough behind to look proper, while still giving the two of them the freedom to say what they wished in order to get to know each other.