by Rose Pearson
Molly, being glad that she had chosen a seat a little to the back of the room, looked over at him inquiringly. “I see. What is it you wish to speak to me about?”
For a moment, Lord Donoghue looked entirely confused, his eyes glazing over with puzzlement. “Lord Seaworth has not said anything to you?”
Shaking her head, Molly felt a twinge of worry. “No, he has not. May I ask what it is about?”
Lord Donoghue gave a slight shrug as though it did not matter. “Mayhap he thought it best to keep the matter private so that I might experience all the joy and anticipation of the moment,” he murmured, looking at her steadily.
“You mean…” Molly trailed off, wondering if, for a moment, Lord Donoghue intended to propose. Surely he would not, not when they had only been acquainted for such a short time. Her heart began to quicken in her chest, and setting the drink down on the table, she knotted her fingers in her lap in an attempt to keep her composure.
“Miss Newton,” he said, grandly. “It would do me the greatest honor if you would permit me to court you.”
Molly’s breath left her body in one huge breath and she immediately sucked in another lungful of air in an attempt to calm her frantic heartbeat.
“I do hope I have not disconcerted you,” Lord Donoghue continued, now looking somewhat confused. “I did not think this would come as such a surprise.”
“Oh, no, no,” Molly gasped, realizing just how much of a meal she was making of things. “No, you did not. I am surprised, that is all.”
He nodded slowly and sat back in his chair, waiting for her to catch her breath.
“You must understand that this has never happened to me before, Lord Donoghue,” Molly explained, putting what she hoped was a delighted smile on her face. “I have had no opportunity to know how I might feel, and I believe my reaction was a little too much.”
The smile reappeared on his face at once, his eyes brightening with hope. “Of course, I quite understand. May I say, Miss Newton, I consider myself to be a man blessed with all the luck in the world that I am the first to ask to court you. You are a lady who embodies all a gentleman might wish for. It would be my very great honor to court you with a view to marriage.”
Those words fell like hammer blows on her heart. It was not just his courtship she would be agreeing to, it would be a promise that a future with him was something she would consider. Why was she not exuberant about such a thing? Was it not what she had wanted, what she had been hoping for?
“What do you say, my dear Miss Newton?” Lord Donoghue asked again, a little more softly. “Will you allow me to court you?”
Without giving him her answer, Molly cleared her throat. “Might I ask you something first, Lord Donoghue?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
“Did you speak of this to Lord Seaworth?”
A flash of understanding came over his expression. “Ah, I quite understand you now. You are concerned that he will not accept me.” A confident tone sounded in his voice. “You need have no worries in that regard, Miss Newton. I spoke to him before I so much as considered speaking to you about this matter.”
“I see,” Molly replied slowly, wondering why his answer brought her so much dismay. “And he agreed to this?”
“I have his blessing if that is what you are asking me, Miss Newton,” Lord Donoghue replied as a frown began to seep across his brow. “Am I to get the impression that you are displeased with this somehow?”
Jerked back to Lord Donoghue, Molly forced herself not to think of her host and instead of the man before her. “No, indeed, Lord Donoghue, I am not displeased in the least. The only reason I ask is that I thought to gauge his response before giving you my own, but I am glad to see that this has already been done.”
Lord Donoghue let out a breath of what Molly imagined to be relief, his shoulders slumping just a little.
“And of course, I give you my consent,” Molly continued, feeling as though she could not so much as say anything else. “Thank you for being so considerate of me in going to Lord Seaworth first.”
Hoping that she looked as delighted as she was trying to sound, Molly could not help but feel a small ball of anger lodge itself in her stomach. She was trying her best to believe that Lord Seaworth had not told her of Lord Donoghue’s request to him for some very good reason, but for the moment, she could not think what that reason might be. His silence had left her entirely unprepared for Lord Donoghue’s request, and as such, had not given her the time or opportunity to consider her heart and respond appropriately. Now, she had agreed to his courtship without being certain that it was what she truly wanted. She did not want to give Lord Donoghue the wrong impression nor lead him towards a place in the future where she would never truly end up. It would be wrong to do so, but yet she had agreed to his courtship regardless, feeling unable to refuse him without good reason. Of course, she could have asked him to give her some time before she gave him a response but that thought had come too late.
“It appears the dancing is to start up again soon,” Lord Donoghue continued, dragging her away from her angry thoughts. “I shall look forward to our second dance, Miss Newton.”
“Thank you, Lord Donoghue,” she murmured, herself rising from her chair as the sudden urge to find Lord Seaworth took hold. Leaving Mrs. Miller behind, she strode through the crowd until, finally, her eyes landed on her quarry.
The first notes of a waltz struck up and, ignoring the couples who took to the floor, Molly made her way to Lord Seaworth’s side, showing complete disregard for the other two gentlemen he was talking to.
“Why did you not say anything Lord Seaworth?”
His blue eyes flared as he turned to her, as though suddenly aware of what she was talking about.
“You should have warned me. I was taken completely by surprise!”
Molly knew her voice was shrill, but she could not help it, feeling as though she had been almost abandoned by him.
“Not here Miss Newton,” he murmured, putting a gentle hand on her bare arm. “Shall we walk?”
She shook her head, her lip wobbling as hot tears poured into her eyes. “I do not have my chaperone with me.”
“The waltz, then.”
There was no time to argue. Within a few seconds, he had her in his arms and was beginning to move across the floor. Molly was stunned by his actions, the words driven from her mind as he began to twirl her effortlessly across the room.
“Lord Donoghue spoke to you then,” he murmured, quietly. “I am sorry if it surprised you, Miss Newton. I thought it might come as a surprise, and I had very little thought of you refusing him.”
She bit her lip, her eyes blinking the tears away. “I wanted some time to consider my answer, but he was so eager that I found I could not.”
His gaze caught hers and held it. “You accepted him without being certain of your own heart?”
“That is precisely why I came to speak to you,” Molly exclaimed, her fingers tightening on his shoulder. “Why did you not tell me, Lord Seaworth? I wish to know if a gentleman intends to ask to court me so that I might have time to prepare.”
There was a short silence, broken only by Lord Seaworth’s heavy sigh that drifted across her cheek.
“It is another way I have failed you, is it not?” he said, humbly. “I should have spoken to you, Miss Newton. You are quite right. I apologize, and if you wish it, I shall speak to Lord Donoghue and inform him that you need some time to consider.”
That took the fire from Molly away almost at once. Yet again he had proven himself to be thoughtful, considerate and apologetic for something that had possibly been nothing more than a simple oversight on his part. She felt herself sag a little in his arms, her anger gone.
“Should I speak to him, Miss Newton?”
“No,” she mumbled, not quite managing to look at him. “No, please do not. I have said that I will accept his court and so I shall. After all, it will give me time to get to know him a little more an
d to decide whether our friendship is what I want for my future.”
There was a short pause.
“You consider him a friend?”
There was a strange tone to his question, making Molly look up at him. She saw his lips press together as he waited for her to speak, his hands tightening on her for a moment.
“Yes, I think so,” she said eventually, as the music began to come to a close. “However, I must ask myself whether that is all I want from matrimony.”
The music stopped, and the couples bowed and curtsied to each other, Molly included. When she looked up, she saw Lord Seaworth smile at her, the curious tone gone from his voice as he spoke.
“Very wise, Miss Newton. Perhaps we can talk about such things in greater depth a little later if you would wish it. As yet, I do not think we have managed to have a quiet conversation together other than our walk to the bookshop two days ago.”
Molly found her lips curving into a warm smile as he took her hand and placed it on his arm, ready to lead her back to Mrs. Miller. Somehow, Lord Seaworth had managed to put her at her ease even though, only a few minutes beforehand, she had been almost furiously angry with him.
“Thank you, Lord Seaworth,” she replied, quietly. “That would be lovely.”
Chapter Seventeen
Hugh bit his lip, hard.
There was no going back now. Either he chose to leave Miss Newton and Lord Donoghue alone, or he sent his steward away with instructions that could lead to their relationship coming to a swift close depending on what he found.
The knock at his door was like a thunderclap, making him jerk in surprise.
“Enter.”
“The steward, my lord,” the butler intoned, looking at Hugh with a slight expression of concern. “Are you all right, my lord? Can I get you anything?”
Dismissing the butler, Hugh shook his head. “I am quite all right, thank you. You may go.”
The butler nodded and left the room, which was followed only a few minutes later by his steward walking into the room, leaving the door a little ajar. A stocky man of middle age, Hugh trusted him completely. In fact, he had done most of the work Hugh was expected to do so that he could be freed to go about his life as he pleased. He had access to Hugh’s funds, Hugh’s solicitor, Hugh’s correspondence. There was not one part of Hugh’s life that was kept a secret from this man.
“Mr. Paulson,” Hugh began, gesturing for him to sit down in a chair by the fire. “I have a matter in mind that I wish for you to take on.”
Pouring both himself and Mr. Paulson a whiskey, Hugh handed one to his steward and then sat down opposite.
“I would be glad to help you in any way I can,” Mr. Paulson replied, with a small smile. “Although if it is about any debts you might owe, I can assure you that you have more than enough to pay them off.” A slight frown marred his brow. “Although, I do not think that you have had any particular dues to pay of late.”
Hugh gave a slightly strangled laugh. “Indeed, that is so. I have taken a step back from all that you see.”
Mr. Paulson did not comment but simply nodded.
“I come to you, in fact, to help the young lady I have been charged to look after during this Season,” Hugh continued, curling one hand into a fist and feeling his fingernails biting into his soft palm. “She is to find a suitable husband, you see, which is why I have been on my very best behavior.”
A flicker of mirth danced its way across Mr. Paulson’s lined face. “I see, my lord. Very good.” He tipped his head and regarded Hugh carefully. “What is it you wish me to do?”
Here it came then, the moment that could potentially change the path of Miss Newton’s future – as well as his own. He had, of course, taken a brief look into Lord Donoghue and had found nothing to concern him, but having considered the matter, Hugh had thought to look at the man a little more closely. He had no reason to do so other than his concern for Miss Newton – or, at least, that was what he told himself.
“Miss Newton has a young gentleman who has asked to court her,” he began, his decision suddenly firming as he thought of Miss Newton dancing with Lord Donoghue only the evening before. “I want to be certain that this gentleman is exactly who he says he is. I want to make sure that he is not hiding any dark secrets that I have been unable to find.”
Mr. Paulson nodded slowly. “I quite understand, my lord. You are to do your best for the girl and that is admirable.”
Hugh tried to laugh, waving Mr. Paulson’s admiration away. “You quite mistake me there, Mr. Paulson. If I do not find the wretched girl a husband, then she will only continue to return to London year after year until I am forced to marry her myself!” His chuckle grew croaky, his throat raw as the lies rushed from his lips as he attempted to cover the truth about his reasons for investigating Lord Donoghue. “You cannot imagine what a trial this has been for me.”
“Indeed, I cannot,” Mr. Paulson replied, drily, as one eyebrow arched high. “Although I will say that your absence from your usual haunts has done a wonder for your finances and for your reputation in society – not that you care about that, of course.”
“Of course,” Hugh said, somewhat hollowly. “I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to returning to my old ways.”
Mr. Paulson chuckled and got to his feet. “Very well, my lord. I shall do all I can. What is the name of the gentleman?”
Hugh rose as well. “Viscount Donoghue. He has a family line that is mostly in Scotland, although I think he has a few relatives dotted about England. Wealthy, from what I could discover, but that doesn’t say much.”
Nodding, Mr. Paulson pulled out a pencil and paper from his breast coat pocket and jotted the name down.
“I shall leave no stone unturned my lord,” he promised, making his way to the door. “And I shall begin the moment I leave your house.”
Knowing that he could rely on Mr. Paulson to do exactly that, Hugh chuckled and shook his hand firmly. “Thank you, Mr. Paulson. I shall expect to hear from you soon.”
Mr. Paulson nodded and left the room – only for the door to swing open again to admit Hugh’s brother, Rodger.
“Wilson!” Hugh exclaimed, as his brother unexpectedly threw his arms around him and laughed. “Whatever are you doing back so soon?”
Rodger chuckled and stepped back. “I told you I would only be gone for a few days, did I not?”
“You did,” Hugh admitted, seeing the joy in his brother’s eyes. “I presume you are here to tell me that you have succeeded in your mission?”
Rodger chuckled and slapped Hugh on the back. “I did, yes! She has agreed to be my bride! Of course, I had to square it with her father and all that, but everything worked out very well.” He beamed delightedly at Hugh who felt a sudden softness press at his heart.
“I am very glad for you,” he said truthfully, going to pour a fresh measure of whiskey for his brother, handing him the glass. “What wonderful news.”
“I am glad you think so,” Rodger replied, as they toasted the news. “It is such a wondrous feeling knowing that I am to marry the woman I love and to know that she loves me in return. It makes me fit to burst I declare!” He threw back his measure of whiskey and chuckled, his eyes narrowing playfully. “You did not fall back into old habits, I hope?”
Hugh attempted to look offended. “Of course I did not! You were only gone a short while.”
“Good, I am very glad to hear it,” Rodger declared, throwing himself back into a chair. “Forgive me for asking, brother. It was only because I saw Miss Newton stumbling away from your study door looking quite upset that pushed me to ask. Has something gone wrong? Has the wrong gentleman declared himself?”
The smile fled from Hugh’s face and he sat down heavily in the chair opposite. “You saw Miss Newton?” he asked, his worst fears beginning to rise in him. “When?”
Rodger shrugged, not seeming to understand his concern. “Just before I arrived,” he replied, frowning. “Why? Whatever is the matte
r?”
A sudden, explosive fury burst through Hugh’s heart, a fury that was directed solely at himself. He had spoken out of turn to his steward, pretended and lied so that he would not have to explain to the man why he was so interested in protecting Miss Newton from anything that might harm her – and, apparently, Miss Newton had heard him do so. Letting out a long, pained groan, Hugh sat forward and put his head in his hands.
“Good gracious,” Rodger exclaimed, setting his glass aside. “Whatever’s the matter, Seaworth?”
Hugh could not speak for a few minutes, his guilt and frustration crashing down on him like a heavy boulder that rolled onto his shoulders and remained there. Everything had been going so well with Miss Newton. He had been open and honest with her in a way he had never been to anyone before and now, in one foolish moment when he had sought to hide the truth from his steward, he had dashed it all to pieces.
“The reason Miss Newton is upset is my doing,” he said, heavily. “I fear that I have quite upset the harmony that has existed between us for so long. In fact, I am quite certain that she will be very upset with me for some time after this. I cannot say that any kind of explanation I give her will either be believed or accepted. Her forgiveness has been given to me more than once, and this time, I think, it may take some time before it is given.” The heaviness he felt grew all the more weighted, his eyes closing with sheer frustration.
Rodger frowned, his eyes concerned. “Then you must fix it, Seaworth,” he declared firmly. “Go on.”
Hugh looked over at his brother, his brows furrowed. “This very moment?”
“This very moment!” Rodger said, gesturing for him to leave the room. “Show some compassion, for heaven’s sake!”
It was on the tip of Hugh’s tongue to say that he felt more than just compassion for Miss Newton and that it was this that was causing him such a struggle, but instead, he chose to say nothing. Hurrying from the room, he closed the door tightly and took in a deep breath, wondering what it was he was to say to her.