He had wooing to do.
“You did what?” Lord Teasdale’s voice boomed through the red drawing room, causing Mattie to wince.
Bea tried to smile at her for comfort, but the weak effort she gave didn’t really look all that comforting. Seated next to her, her younger sister Rose’s eyes grew wide as she looked between her father and Mattie, and then over to her mother. Mattie imagined she was trying to memorize every detail of this moment so she could recreate it in all its agonizing glory for their youngest sister Lucy, who was above stairs with her governess, Miss Dormer.
That was what she, Freddie, and Georgie had always done for Edie. It seemed only fitting that the Emery sisters would do the same.
Thinking about her sisters just now only reminded her of the letter she’d received this morning from Monty. He wrote to inform her that Georgie was safely delivered of his heir, and that young Lord Dennison squalls loudly enough he was certain to be hale and healthy for a great many years to come.
That news only caused her to yearn, more than ever before, that she could be with her family. Instead, she was with the Teasdales. Other than Bea, and maybe Rose and Lucy, they did not want her at all. And she was trying to choose between two suitors, one of whom might not want her, and the other of whom she might not want.
Mattie would far prefer to be holding the squalling Viscount Dennison. Since she was not though, and could not do so any time soon, she renewed her resolve. Squaring her shoulders, she looked Lord Teasdale in the eye. “I told Mr. Goddard I would not agree to marry him as yet, but that he could court me, just as Sir Lester is doing.”
There wasn’t any need to tell the baron she hadn’t really encouraged Mr. Goddard. She just hadn’t discouraged him. With Sir Lester, on the other hand, Mattie had done everything she could to encourage, short of outright telling him she hoped he would offer for her or that she was head over ears in love with him.
There were some things which a lady simply couldn’t do.
“But Goddard has a marriage license. They’re not valid forever, you know.” Lord Teasdale paced to the hearth, muttering beneath his breath all the while. “Silly chit…doing a favor to Danby…strangle Stalbridge when I next see him…”
At that point, Mattie dared to look up at Lady Teasdale. The baroness was glowering at Mattie as she’d never done before, which was saying something. It seemed the only thing Lady Teasdale ever enjoyed doing with Mattie was glowering at her.
There was no point in continuing to look there. She glanced at Bea, who gave her a nod.
“If we choose to marry and the license is no longer valid, we can wait for the banns,” Mattie said patiently.
“If you chose to marry? Wait for the banns?” Lord Teasdale practically roared. “Just how long do you think I intend to allow you to remain under my roof and protection? Your brother said you would be biddable and do as you’ve been told. Beatrice, don’t you dare think you can behave as Lady Matilda is. Or Rose. Good God.”
She didn’t think he really wanted her to answer his initial question, and she had no intention of being biddable on this matter (particularly since Percy had never mentioned a word of it to her), so she remained quiet.
“What sort of man is this Goddard, if he would go against what Danby and Stalbridge agreed upon?” Lady Teasdale mused aloud.
“Another excellent point,” the baron grumbled. “Danby promised me Lady Matilda would be well and truly married, and no longer my responsibility, within a reasonable time after we arrived.”
Mattie couldn’t help but notice that there was no mention of Mr. Goddard making any promises within their complaints. Nor was there mention of Mattie doing so.
Danby had promised, and Percy had promised…but Mattie had never even been consulted about any of it. She was beginning to wonder if Mr. Goddard had been asked for his opinion on the matter either.
But then again, he had done as he was bidden to do. He had come with the marriage license yesterday afternoon, and she had no doubt he would have hauled her off to stand in front of a vicar this very morning if she would have agreed, considering the impassioned plea he’d delivered before taking his leave.
She couldn’t quite understand why he would care to marry her.
They didn’t know one another, and while her dowry was perfectly reasonable, it was far from exorbitant. She wasn’t an heiress or anything of that sort, so she wasn’t a lady whom a fortune hunter would seek. Her sisters were far prettier than she was, and for that matter, both Bea and Rose Emery were as well. Why her?
Yet, for whatever reason, he seemed fully intent upon convincing her to change her mind about Sir Lester and accept his offer.
“Papa,” Bea put in then, “surely it couldn’t hurt to allow Mattie time to choose one of these two gentlemen to marry instead of simply accepting a gentleman she doesn’t know in the slightest. She hasn’t rejected either of them, you know.”
“That’s true.” Lord Teasdale narrowed his eyes upon Mattie. “I’ll grant you one more week to choose.”
A week? But what if Sir Lester didn’t make her an offer within the week?
Thankfully, Sadler cleared his throat at the doorway at that point, saving Mattie the need to respond. “Mr. Goddard is here to call upon Lady Matilda, my lord.”
The baron never removed his eyes from Mattie as he nodded and said, “Yes, send him in. And a maid to chaperone. But not that girl Lizzie. The girl needs…well, I can’t really say what she needs, but I don’t want her interfering in this any longer.” Then he turned and walked out of the room.
Lady Teasdale and Rose both stood to follow him.
“I’ll stay, Mama,” Bea said, moving to sit beside Mattie and squeeze her hand.
Lady Teasdale turned and scowled at her daughter. “Very well. I’ll send a maid in with tea.” Then she took Rose brusquely by the elbow and hauled her bodily from the drawing room.
Mattie couldn’t help but notice Rose’s desperate attempts to look back over her shoulder at the two of them. Nor could she blame the girl.
“Only a week?” Mattie said to her friend with a painfully hushed whisper. “But what if…?”
The rest of her question trailed off her lips and completely out of her mind. Mr. Goddard came into the drawing room, filling the doorway with his frame like very few men of her acquaintance could possibly do and very nearly robbing her of her breath with the combined look of determination and mortification upon his face.
He should have brought flowers, like Sir Lester had done yesterday.
It was a little late to think of such a detail, however, as he was currently standing at the threshold of the very same red drawing room where he’d felt so terribly out of place, once more feeling like he couldn’t possibly belong in such a setting. Now, though, he also felt like a dolt for not having brought Lady Matilda flowers. How was he supposed to woo her if he couldn’t even remember such a simple thing as that? Ladies liked flowers and operas and poetry, things of the sort which he more often than not didn’t even realize existed.
Perhaps he ought to start paying them more attention.
Berating himself over his own ignorance wouldn’t solve anything, though, so he did his best to push those negative thoughts aside.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Goddard,” the brunette beside Lady Matilda said. She stood and crossed the room to him, smiling all the while. “I’m Beatrice Emery, Lord Teasdale’s eldest daughter and Lady Matilda’s friend. I’m not sure we’ve properly thanked you for all your assistance.”
Miss Emery’s beauty was the sort that could stagger a man, at least if he was ill-prepared to be struck by it. She stood nearly as tall as Thomas, with arms and legs that stretched for days and a long, swooping neck. She was the very epitome of graceful elegance.
Even still, he found his gaze returning to Lady Matilda already. Her gown today was the color of a ripe peach. It matched the bit of color in her cheeks in the most charming manner. Her hands were folded neatly upon her lap, her hair knott
ed loosely behind her head with a ribbon the shade of clotted cream twisting through it.
Finally, he remembered that Miss Emery had spoken to him, had thanked him for helping Lady Matilda. “It was…” It was the only thing he could have done in that instant. Taking her into his arms and carrying her to safety had been as natural to him as breathing, as unconscious and involuntary an action as waking when the sun rose each morning.
“It was heroic,” Miss Emery finished for him. “You were just like a knight on a white charger, coming to rescue her.”
It hadn’t felt heroic in the slightest, especially when he remembered it was his own shout which had startled her so much that she lost her footing. He wanted to say as much, but Miss Emery had taken his arm and was guiding him more fully into the drawing room. He allowed her to lead him to a chintz armchair at an angle from Lady Matilda, and sat when she nudged him to do so.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Goddard,” Lady Matilda said.
“Is your head well today?” he asked while Miss Emery skirted around the room to sit slightly apart from the two of them at the opposite end of a red silk sofa.
“Yes, thank you.”
Then an uncomfortable silence descended upon them. Thomas hadn’t the first clue what sort of things he ought to speak to a lady of her breeding about. Every time he thought of a conversational topic, he had second thoughts and then mentally castigated himself for it.
Lady Matilda stared at her hands where they were resting upon her lap.
This would never work. Yet he had to make it work. He couldn’t let her fall into whatever trap Hammond was laying for her.
The tick-tock, tick-tock sounds coming from the Bornholm clock on the wall opposite the hearth seemed to grow louder until Thomas could swear it was the echo of his heart beating in anxiety.
Miss Emery delicately cleared her throat, and both Thomas and Lady Matilda turned expectantly to her. “Not long before you arrived, Mr. Goddard, Lady Matilda and I were discussing a letter she’d received in the post this morning. Her brother-in-law, Lord Montague, wrote to inform her of the arrival of his heir.”
Lady Matilda visibly relaxed. Her shoulders dropped, and her lips parted slightly to let a pent-up breath escape.
“Congratulations on the newest member of your family,” Thomas said. Thank goodness Miss Emery was present to help steer their conversation. He was sure he would stumble and make a fool of himself otherwise. “Is this your first niece or nephew?”
She nodded. “Only my sister Georgie, Lady Montague, has married at this point. Freddie and I are both still unwed, and Edie is not yet out of the schoolroom. Although, I daresay she’ll have beaux beating down Mama’s door once she has her come out.”
Thomas laughed at the thought, imagining a younger version of Lady Matilda. “I would imagine your brother Lord Stalbridge must be overwhelmed at the thought of three sisters out at once—and having to decide which suitors he should allow, and which he should not.” Like Hammond.
“Edie won’t be out for a couple more years. Perhaps by then Freddie and I will have married and Mama need only worry about Edie.”
Mama, she’d said, not her brother. That was an interesting turn of the conversation, and not in a direction he was comfortable with. Why had she so quickly deflected their discussion away from her brother?
“And Stalbridge has not married either?” Thomas asked. “Is he not keen to fill his nursery? He’ll need to provide an heir at some point, especially since it seems he has only sisters and not brothers.”
Lizzie came through the doors carrying a tea tray, this time successfully delivering the implements without nearly spilling it all, and Lady Matilda instantly set to work pouring three cups. Her lips were set in a straight line, pressed tightly together, and her shoulders drew up again.
So Stalbridge is not a comfortable topic of discussion, he thought to himself as the maid left the drawing room as silently as she’d come. A redirection was in order again.
Thomas took the cup she handed him and sipped from it. “My sister Abby only recently informed us all she is with child as well.”
“I’m sure His Grace is well pleased with the news,” Lady Matilda said stiffly.
A strange desire to reveal the blemishes within his family struck him. Would she be more willing to reveal the less-than-perfect bits of her own life then? “I wouldn’t know,” he said cautiously. “Danby has only known of our existence for a brief time.”
The teacup in her hand clattered down to its saucer. “Oh,” she said, her mouth holding that perfect O shape for a moment. “I didn’t…”
Miss Emery silently took the teacup and saucer away from Lady Matilda and then slipped back to her end of the sofa, not saying a word.
“You didn’t know anything about me or my family,” Thomas finished for her. “As I don’t know anything about you or yours.” He met her eyes and held his gaze there, trapped in the intensity of her stare. “My father was illegitimate.”
She never so much as blinked. “But they told me you… I assumed you were the younger son of a younger son, something of that nature.”
“I’m not.” He sipped again.
She seemed merely curious, not appalled. Better to press on and get it all out than lose his nerve. After all, if they did marry as he wished, then she would have to know it all eventually. These weren’t the sorts of secrets a man could keep from his wife.
“My grandmother’s family turned her out when she wouldn’t reveal who had fathered a child on her. She found employment as a maid of all work. My father worked his way up to become the butler for Lord Pritchard’s estate, and I worked as a groom there until—well, until Danby changed things.”
Lady Matilda didn’t turn away upon learning just how low his birth had been. She met his gaze fully, unwaveringly, unflinchingly. “He provided you with a living and a boost up in Society,” she mused aloud.
“Yes. Danby gave Abby a dowry so she could marry the Earl of Fordingham’s brother. The Fordingham estate borders the Pritchard estate, and she had been desperately in love with Wesley Cavendish for as long as I can remember. She’d accepted the fact that she could never marry him, however, until Danby came along and changed everything. He gave my brother and me each a settlement, and he purchased the horse breeding business I run.”
“And your brother?” she prodded. “Has he married?”
Thomas couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at that. “Robert has not married, though I’m sure Danby has done everything he possibly could to secure a bride well above his station, just as he’s done with me.”
He shouldn’t have said that last part, but he had.
“Lady Matilda, I know I’m not—”
“You’re a man who would not be bothered by marrying a lady who might be attached to some scandals,” Miss Emery interrupted him, speaking for the first time in a good while. She gave Lady Matilda a pointed look but kept speaking to him. “So in theory, Mr. Goddard, if your potential bride had a scandalous brother, it wouldn’t matter to you in the least.”
“No,” he said slowly.
What sort of scandals might Lord Stalbridge be embroiled in? But then, while Thomas had never truly been part of the ton, he knew enough to be well aware of far more scandals than he ever would have cared to discover. Stalbridge could have well and truly destroyed his family already. This was even more reason Lady Matilda needed a man like Thomas to protect her from the scoundrels of the world like Hammond.
He took a brief sip from his teacup. “I’ve never really been part of Society, although my grandfather seems to be intent upon changing that. The scandals of the ton don’t really affect me one way or another.”
A broad smile overtook Miss Emery’s features. “That’s lovely to hear, Mr. Goddard. Oh!” She looked out the open door into the corridor. “I do believe I just heard someone call for me. Would you excuse me for a moment?”
Thomas hadn’t heard any such thing. He stifled a chuckle at Miss Emery’s deviousness.
She was trying to give them a bit of privacy, even if only for a moment. And while yesterday he had been loath to find himself alone with Lady Matilda, things had changed rather quickly. Today, it seemed a lovely prospect.
“Of course,” he murmured. He might rather like this Miss Emery.
“Bea!” Lady Matilda called after her, but to no avail.
Miss Emery was out of the drawing room so fast one might have thought her skirts had caught fire. She even pulled the door nearly closed.
Lady Matilda looked at him sheepishly and then swallowed so hard it was visible, picking up the teapot once more. “More tea?”
She mustn’t have been counting on her friend’s desertion.
“I still have plenty of tea,” Mr. Goddard said, smiling at her as though he wanted to laugh.
As well he should. Offering him more tea had been rather silly, when she could clearly see that his cup was almost full. But she’d had to say something, and asking if he wanted more tea felt better than discussing her brother and all the troubles he’d brought upon the family of late.
Even if Mr. Goddard wouldn’t be bothered by Percy’s scandalous behavior, that didn’t mean she ought to marry him. And if she wasn’t going to marry him, then what did it matter if he knew about Percy’s penchant for betting money he no longer had and doing Lord only knew what else? It didn’t.
Yet, for some reason, she still didn’t want him to know.
Revealing it all felt disloyal. Mattie couldn’t bear the thought of being disloyal to her family for any reason, even if Percy had no such compunctions.
She fully believed, however, that if she told Sir Lester what she knew of Percy’s behavior, he would cut all ties with her. He’d always seemed to be the sort to react in a harsh manner to various situations.
Mr. Goddard gave her no reason to believe he’d do anything of the sort, and every reason to believe the opposite.
This was quite the conundrum.
He moved to sit beside her on the sofa just then. Oh, heavens. She wished Lizzie was in the drawing room with them, since Bea had seen fit to abandon her. Even if Lizzie couldn’t seem to perform her duties as she ought, having someone present would calm Mattie’s nerves.
Bexley-Smythe Quintet 02 - Rhyme and Reason Page 5