‘Might I enquire when you decided that Ellie is to be referred to as your cousin?’ Edith raised those imperious grey brows.
‘Ellie?’
‘Miss Eleanor Rosewood, your Cousin Frederick’s stepdaughter, of course,’ she supplied impatiently.
‘I can hardly be so familiar as to address her as Ellie—a name I do not particularly care for, by the by—’ Justin gave an irritated scowl ‘—when her mother, one supposes, bestowed upon her the perfectly elegant name of Eleanor. And Miss Rosewood is far too formal, in view of her connection to this family.’
‘I agree.’ His grandmother gave a haughty nod. ‘And it is Ellie—Eleanor, whom I wish to discuss with you.’
Justin made no attempt to hide his astonishment. ‘Are you telling me that you had me tracked down at my club, with all the fervour of a pack of hounds baying at the scent of fox—’
‘Do not be melodramatic, Justin.’ Edith eyed him with indulgent exasperation.
His brows rose. ‘Do you deny having had a note delivered to my rooms late in the evening, one moreover that appeared to be of such vital urgency that my manservant instantly dispatched one of the other servants to track me down at one of my clubs?’
‘I did instruct the note be written and delivered to you, yes. But it was not so late in the evening when I did so,’ his grandmother added pointedly. ‘Nor can I be held responsible for the actions of your manservant in dispatching a servant to seek you out so doggedly.’
Justin gave another scowl. ‘But you do not deny that the reason for sending the note was so that you might bring me here simply in order to discuss your young companion?’
The dowager duchess sent him a reproachful glance. ‘There is nothing simple about it, my dear. Ellie, and her future, have loomed large in my thoughts of late. Even more so this evening, when I am feeling so unwell—Justin, would you please refrain from pacing in that restless manner and instead sit down in that chair beside me? It is making my head ache having to follow your movements in this way.’ She gave a pained wince.
Only one part of that statement was of any relevance to Justin at this particular moment. ‘In what way are you feeling unwell?’ He pounced on the statement, his expression distracted as he lowered his long length down into the chair beside the bed before reaching out to take one of his grandmother’s delicately fragile hands into both of his.
Edith gave a weary sigh. ‘I find I become very tired of late. An occurrence which has made me realise that—it has made me aware that I should have made much more of an effort to ensure that things were settled before now...’ She gave another sigh, a little mournful this time.
Justin scowled darkly. ‘Grandmama, if this is yet another way for you to introduce the unwelcome subject of my acquiring a duchess—’
‘Why, you conceited young whippersnapper!’ She gave him a quelling glance as she sat up straighter in the bed. ‘Contrary to what you appear to believe, I do not spend the whole of my waking life thinking up ways to entice my stubborn and uninterested grandson into matrimony!’ Then she seemed to collect herself and settled back once more on her pillows with another pained wince.
Justin gave a rueful shake of his head at hearing her berate him so soundly; not too many people would have dared speak to him like that and hope to get away with it! Oh, he was certain that many of the ton referred to him, behind his back, as being ‘arrogantly haughty’ or ‘coldly disdainful’, and even on occasion as being ‘harsh and imperious’ just like his grandmother was, but they would not have dared to do so to his face.
Not when they were sober, at least, Justin acknowledged derisively, as he thought of Litchfield’s insulting behaviour earlier this evening. A rash and dangerous move on Litchfield’s part, when Justin was acknowledged as being one of the finest swordsmen in England, as well as one of the most accurate of shots; no gentlemen would dare to talk to him in that way when they were sober, for fear they might incite—and subsequently lose—the duel that would undoubtedly ensue.
‘I am glad to hear it,’ he drawled in answer to his grandmother’s comment. ‘Pray, then, what are these “things”, which need to be “settled”, Grandmama?’
‘Eleanor’s future, of course.’ She eyed him carefully, her gnarled fingers folding and then refolding the fine bedsheet beneath them. ‘She is so very young, and has no other relatives apart from ourselves, and I cannot bear to think of what might become of her when I am gone.’
Justin tensed. ‘When you are gone? Is there any likelihood of that happening in the near future?’ he prompted sharply as he felt the slight trembling of the hand he still held in his own.
The fact that the love his parents shared had been exclusive and all-consuming, and not one which had allowed time or particular consideration for their only child, had, as a consequence, meant that it was Justin’s paternal grandparents, Edith and George St Just, who were the constant influences in his life, and with whom he had chosen to spend the majority of his school holidays, as well as Christmas and birthdays.
‘Doctor Franklyn is of the opinion that I am simply wearing out—’
‘Utterly ridiculous!’ Justin barked, sitting forwards tensely, blue gaze fierce as he searched the unusual delicate pallor of her face. ‘He is mistaken. Why, you had tea with your two dear friends only a few days ago, attended Lady Huntsley’s ball with them just yesterday evening—’
‘As a consequence, today I am feeling so weak that I do not even have the energy to rise from my bed.’
‘You have overtaxed yourself, that is all,’ he insisted.
‘Justin, you are no longer a child and, sadly, neither am I.’ His grandmother gave another heavy sigh. ‘And I cannot say I will not be pleased to be with your grandfather again—’
‘I refuse to listen to this nonsense a moment longer!’ Justin released her hand to stand up before glowering down at her. ‘I will speak to Dr Franklyn myself.’
‘Do so, by all means, if you feel you must, but bullying the doctor cannot make me any younger than I am,’ Edith reasoned gently.
Justin drew in a sharp breath at the truth of that statement. ‘Perhaps you might rally, find new purpose, if I were to reconsider my decision not to marry in the near future.’
‘Generous of you, Royston.’ She gave him an affectionate, understanding smile, which had the effect of shooting more fear into his heart than anything she might say considering she’d been so hell-bent on seeing him married off as soon as humanly possible. ‘Unfortunately, the outcome would, I am sorry to say, remain the same.’
‘I simply cannot accept that!’
‘You must, Justin,’ his grandmother chided gently. ‘Gratified as I am to see how the thought upsets you, it is a fact of life that I cannot go on for ever. I should, of course, have liked to see you settled before my time comes, but I accept that is not to be...’
‘I have already suggested I might give the matter of matrimony further consideration, if it would make you happy!’ He scowled fiercely at the mere thought of it.
‘You must, and no doubt will, do exactly as you wish. At the moment I am more concerned with my dear companion. I must know that Ellie—Eleanor’s—future has been settled before I depart this world.’
‘I would prefer that you not say that phrase again in my presence, Grandmama.’ Justin had resumed his restless pacing, too agitated by his grandmother’s news to be able to stand or to sit at her bedside any longer.
‘Ignoring something will not make it go away, my dear,’ Edith pointed out.
Justin was well aware of that, but even the thought of his grandmother no longer being here, gently chiding or sternly rebuking him for one misdemeanour or another, was anathema to him. She was only in her sixty-ninth year, and Justin had not so much as spared a thought for the possibility of her dying just yet; Edith St Just had been, and still was, the woman in his li
fe on whom he had always depended, a woman of both iron will and indomitable spirit, always there, the steely matriarch of the St Just family.
‘May we discuss Eleanor’s future now, Justin?’ Edith continued, uncharacteristically meek.
Eleanor Rosewood, and her future, were the last things that Justin wished to discuss at this moment, but a single glance at his grandmother’s face was enough to silence his protests as he noticed once again how the paleness of her face, and the shadows beneath her eyes, gave her the appearance of being every one of those eight and sixty years.
He bit back the sharpness of his reply and instead resumed his seat beside the bed. ‘Very well, Grandmama, if you insist, then let us talk of Cousin Eleanor’s future.’
She nodded. ‘It is my dearest wish to see her comfortably married before I dep—am no longer here,’ she corrected at Justin’s scowl.
He raised his brows. ‘It seems to me that you appear to wish this dubious state upon all those close to you. I am heartily relieved it is not just me you have set your sights on.’
‘Do not be facetious, Royston!’ The dowager frowned. ‘As I have already stated, you must do as you wish where your own future bride is concerned, but for a young woman in Ellie’s position, marriage is the only solution.’
‘And do you also have a gentleman in mind to become her husband? More to the point, does Cousin Eleanor have such a gentleman in mind?’ He raised mocking brows.
His grandmother sighed. ‘She has been so taken up with my own affairs this past year that I very much doubt she has given the matter so much as a single thought.’
‘Then—’
‘Which is not to say she should not have done so.’ Edith frowned him into silence. ‘Or that I should not have insisted she do so, before she is of an age that is considered as being unmarriageable.’
‘Exactly how old is Cousin Eleanor?’ Justin eyed his grandmother incredulously, thinking of the girl’s fresh, dewy complexion and unlined brow.
‘She has recently entered her twentieth year—’
‘Almost ancient then!’ he teased.
‘I am being serious, Justin. A young woman of Ellie’s meagre circumstances, if left alone in the world, will, as I am sure you are only too well aware, have very few opportunities open to her.’ She arched a pointed brow.
Yes, Justin was well aware of the fate that often befell impoverished but genteel young ladies of Eleanor Rosewood’s beauty and circumstance, being neither a part of society and yet not of the working classes either. ‘And exactly what do you expect me to do about it? Settle some money on her as a dowry, perhaps, in order to entice a penniless young man of the clergy or some such into offering her marriage?’ he suggested sarcastically.
‘The dowry would certainly be a start.’ His grandmother took his suggestion seriously as she nodded slowly. ‘Heaven knows the Royston fortune is large enough you would not even notice its loss! But I do not see why Eleanor should have to settle for an impoverished clergyman. Surely, somewhere amongst your acquaintances, you must know of a titled gentleman or two who would willingly overlook her social shortcomings in order to take to wife a young woman of personal fortune, who also happens to be the stepcousin of the powerful Duke of Royston?’
Justin had meant to tease with his suggestion of a providing a dowry for Eleanor, but he could see by the seriousness of his grandmother’s expression that she, at least, was in deadly earnest. ‘Let me see if I understand you correctly, Grandmama. You wish for me to first settle a sizeable dowry upon your companion, before then seeking out and securing a suitable, preferably titled husband, for her amongst my acquaintances?’ The suggestion was not only preposterous, but seemed slightly incestuous to Justin in view of his own less than cousinly thoughts about that young lady just minutes ago!
‘I do not expect you to approach the subject quite so callously, Royston.’ Edith eyed him impatiently. ‘I am very fond of the gel and I should not like to see her married to a man she did not like, or whom did not like her.’
His brows rose. ‘So you are, in fact, expecting me to secure a love match for her, despite her “social shortcomings” as you so tactfully put it.’
‘A suitable marriage does not preclude the couple from falling in love with each other,’ Edith snapped. ‘Your grandfather and I loved each other dearly. As did your father and mother.’
Yes, and it was the example of that deep love his parents had for each other that had made Justin so leery of entering into matrimony himself; he could not bear even the thought of ever loving a woman so deeply, so intensely, that his own offspring suffered because of it.
He suppressed a shudder. ‘I believe you may be expecting too much for Eleanor to secure such a love in her own marriage.’
‘We will not know until you try,’ his grandmother insisted.
‘And how do you propose I go about doing that?’ He gave a rueful shake of his head.
‘As Ellie’s closest male relative—yes, I know you’re about to say that technically you’re not really related to her at all—you might perhaps commence by accompanying her to—to a musical soirée or two, perhaps, in order that you might introduce her to these eligible if financially bereft young gentlemen of your acquaintance?’
‘I—you expect me to attend musical soirées?’ Justin stared at his grandmother incredulously as he once again rose to his feet out of sheer incapability to know what to do next; indeed, he was starting to feel like that toy he’d had as a child which had popped out of the box when the lid was lifted! ‘I believe your current indisposition has addled your brain, Grandmama!’ He shook his head. ‘I do not attend music soirées or balls in the normal course of events, let alone with the intention of marrying off my young stepcousin to some unsuspecting gentleman!’
‘But there is nothing to say that you could not make the exception in these special circumstances, is there?’ she insisted defiantly.
‘No, of course there is not. But—’
‘It would make me very happy if you were to do so, Justin.’
He narrowed suddenly suspicious blue eyes on the supposedly frail figure of his grandmother as she once again lay back, so small and vulnerable-looking against those snowy white pillows. ‘I thought it was Cousin Eleanor’s happiness which was your first and only concern?’
‘It is.’ Edith’s eyes snapped her irritation at his perspicacity. ‘And I can think of no better way to secure that happiness than you publicly acknowledging Ellie as a favoured cousin.’
‘A favoured cousin of such low social standing she has been in your own employ this past year,’ he reminded her drily.
‘I very much doubt that any of the ton would make the connection between that mousy young woman and Miss Eleanor Rosewood, the elegant and beautiful cousin of the Duke of Royston.’
He very much doubted the truth of that claim, in regard to the gentlemen in society, at least; he, for one, had certainly taken note of Eleanor’s understated beauty!
‘And even if they did,’ Edith continued firmly, ‘none would dare to socially cut or slight Ellie whilst she is seen to be under your protection.’
On that subject Justin did agree. But the cost to himself, of being forced into the tedium of attending what was left of the Season, was surely too much to expect of him? His grandmother did not seem to think so...
‘I am to host the Royston Ball in four days’ time and you are always gracious enough to make an appearance on that occasion,’ his grandmother reminded him.
‘The ball may have to be cancelled if you are still feeling so fatigued,’ he said slyly.
‘That will not happen during my lifetime!’ the dowager duchess assured him imperiously. ‘The Royston Ball has taken place for the past hundred years and this year shall be no different, not even if I have to spend the evening sitting in my Bath chair overseeing events,’ she con
tinued determinedly.
‘And you seriously intend to introduce Eleanor into society that evening?’
She gave a haughty inclination of her head. ‘As a guest in my home she will naturally attend.’
‘And you expect me to act as her escort for the evening?’
‘As her guardian, perhaps, which would be perfectly acceptable as you are her closest male relative.’ She nodded briskly. ‘It is also the perfect opportunity for Ellie to see and be seen by the ton.’
Justin had the uncomfortable feeling that somewhere in the course of this conversation he had not only been manipulated, but soundly outmanoeuvred. An unusual occurrence, admittedly, but somehow his grandmother seemed to have succeeded in doing so. He—
‘There is one other subject upon which I shall require your assistance, my boy.’
He eyed the redoubtable old lady extremely warily now. ‘Yes?’
‘I believe it might be advisable, before any marriage were to take place, to attempt to ascertain the identity of Ellie’s real father...’
Justin’s eyes widened in shock. ‘Her real father? Was that not Mr Rosewood, then?’
‘As that gentleman had already been dead for a full year before Ellie was born, I do not believe so, no...’ Edith grimaced.
This situation, one not even of Justin’s own choosing, suddenly became more and more surreal. ‘And is Eleanor herself aware of that fact?’
His grandmother gave a snort. ‘Of course she is not. I only discovered the truth of things myself when I had her mother investigated after that idiot Frederick ran off to Gretna Green so impetuously and married the woman.’
‘So my stepcousin and ward is not only penniless, but is also a bastard—’
‘Royston!’
Justin groaned out loud. ‘And if I should discover that her real father is an unsavoury scoundrel fit only for the gutter?’
NOT JUST A WALLFLOWER Page 3