He thought most men took the arrangement too lightly.
It wasn’t thoughts of love or anything that brought him to this judgment, though. It was the finality of marriage. If he was going to spend the rest of his life attached to the same person then he damn well was going to make sure it was someone he enjoyed. He wasn’t about to rush through the decision and take the chance of making a mistake.
Nothing could ruin a day more than a sour woman. Greg couldn’t even imagine the consequences of a perpetually sour wife.
No, if he was ever going to marry then he would set about it in a very analytical way. After all, if he couldn’t find someone whose company he enjoyed then what exactly was the point?
But then again, despite the strength of this argument for marriage, there was also one major hole in the logic. A spouse was not the only way for a person to find lifelong and faithful companionship. And if the only reason a person could find to justify marriage was the fear of being alone, then really, it didn’t seem worth it at all. Greg was fairly certain that he would be fulfilled for the rest of his days with the companionship of good friends alone. Not that good friends were highly available either, but if it was the right friend then all it took was one, just one, to meet that need.
Mary was such a friend.
He’d choose her company over the company of other society women any day of the week, and truth be told he nearly always had. Because in the end, no matter how he tried to get around it, none of those women excited him. They were a little too much like his mother and not enough like… Well, Mary.
He laughed. Now that was a thought. Though he’d be lying again if he said that this was the first time that thought ever crossed his mind. There was a time, a long time ago, when he’d thought that his feelings for Mary ran deeper than affection. He’d even thought for a moment that her feelings for him ran deeper as well—but those feelings arose out of special circumstances on a special day.
Change, the knowledge of impending separation, and the disruption of routine—in this case his departure to University—fostered deep feelings, but they were not the breeding ground of love. Despite everything that had happened that day, he’d known this fact just as much then as he knew it now. And so had she. Or so he’d always assumed anyway as they’d never spoken of it again…
Greg looked down and shook his head. All these serious thoughts of marriage and love and the future were making him thirsty. It was time for another drink to make it through the rest of this night.
He looked up just in time to see Mary discretely slip out of the hall shorty after an unnamed suitor. He felt a slight tightening twinge in his chest that made him feel hot and uncomfortable… and angry.
Great. Now the drink was making him feel sentimental and mushy.
Perhaps the drinks were strong enough after all.
Perhaps.
Chapter 3
Spring 1807
This was the absolute last place in the world that Greg wanted to be.
Here he was basking in the sun, at a lighthearted, spring picnic near a shimmering lake, meanwhile his father would never feel the sun again. Greg positioned himself under a nearby tree as he thought.
It had been over a year since Greg’s father passed and so he’d had more than enough time to sufficiently mourn, but even still something felt so wrong about this entire situation. Just because the mourning period was over did not mean that Greg was done mourning and it certainly did not mean that he was ready to join in on the merriment of a social picnic. Everyone around was so carefree and alive.
Greg wasn’t sure if he would ever feel alive again.
He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to.
“Gregory. Gregory Howard!” He could hear his mother calling to him from somewhere in the distance. He chose to ignore her.
“Gregory! Come here!” she called once again. He hated when she called him Gregory but at least she hadn’t called him Lord Lincoln. He supposed that part of her still didn’t want to admit that the title was his now and not his father’s but at the same time she was still just as unaccustomed to calling him that name as he was to hearing it. He wouldn’t mind if she never got used to calling him that, though he was sure that would not be the case.
He tugged at his jacket and frowned. There was a spot on it that he had only just noticed. And he’d thought this day couldn’t get any worse.
“Gregory Howard!”
He sighed. While he was looking at his jacket his mother found him. “Yes, mother?”
“This is Lady Mary Cartwright.” His mother gestured to a young girl about his age standing next to her. “Her mother, Lady Glastonbury, is my dearest friend.” Greg’s mother looked at him now and snapped her fingers.
He was distracted and obviously hadn’t been paying attention.
Life is much harder without your father, he realized, especially when you’re expected to fill his shoes at only age fifteen.
“Gregory, Lady Glastonbury and I have some visiting to do. I’ve volunteered you to escort Lady Mary today. So please, keep her company, treat her with respect, and most importantly, watch over her.”
“Yes, mother,” he replied in the most confident voice he could muster. He didn’t do a very good job but the little lady smiled anyway as their mothers left them alone.
“Well hello, Lord Lincoln. I’m pleased to meet you.”
Greg winced. He knew someone was bound to do it today. It might be his title now but to Greg that would always be his father. “Gregory,” he corrected, hoping she would go along with it. “Just Greg, please.”
He saw her shoulders fall down into a more relaxed position as he recognized just how tense she’d been moments before.
“Oh thank God,” she said with the shake of a head.
“What are we thanking God for, Lady Mary?” He lifted his eyebrow. He hadn’t felt like thanking God in a long time.
“For familiarity and lack of formality. So, none of this lady stuff either. You are just Greg, so I can be just Mary.” She sighed deeply and he could tell she was sincere. “You can’t imagine my relief.”
A spring breeze began to blow at her words and Greg’s spirit was warmed by both sources. He smiled. And so did she.
“Oh,” he shook his head with a chuckle. “You have no idea.”
“Is that so?”
“Well, you didn’t think you were the only one to enjoy a lack of formality, did you?”
“I suppose that statistically—”
“Statistically?” Greg laughed. “Well then. It appears I’m in for much more than I thought…”
Mary put her hands on her hips and looked at him squarely. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Just that I didn’t even begin to study statistics until I was…” He studied her. “How old are you anyway?” And then his eyes grew wide as he suddenly comprehended what he’d asked. “Oh. Forgive me. I’m sure that’s none of my business…”
“Oh.” Mary relaxed and put her hands down by her sides. “That’s all you meant, is it?”
Greg recoiled at her quick attitude change. “Why… yes. What did you think I meant?”
Mary was somewhat sheepish now. “I thought that perhaps—well—that maybe you were referring to—well—” Mary waved her hands about in front of her and then gestured to herself.
“Because you’re a girl? That’s what you thought?” Greg couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the idea. “Of course not!”
Mary crossed her arms and pouted her lip though Greg had the feeling she was faking her sour mood. “How was I supposed to know that? That would have been the first thing, and possibly the only thing, that any other person would have noticed. And I’m fourteen. If you must know.”
“Any other person?” Greg shook his head. “Let’s get one thing straight right now, Mary. Anything you think you know about the way society works, just throw it out the window when you’re with me. My mother is one of the most intelligent people I know, male or female. And
my father, well he was—” Greg felt his voice catch in his throat. “He was very progressive. He taught me to think for myself.”
“Was?” The word did not pass by Mary unnoticed.
“Yes. Was.” Greg answered more sharply than he had intended. “He passed last year. This is my first social event after mourning. My first event with his title…”
“Oh. So that’s why you didn’t want me to call you…” Mary pondered softly. She let her voice fade off before looking at him and adding, “Me too, you know.”
“You too, what?”
“My first social event after my father’s death.” She looked down as if to hide the crack in her voice.
It was only then that he looked at her more closely and realized what she was wearing. She wasn’t dressed in total black but her dress was subtle lavender with bits of white, very much in contrast to the bright and lively dresses of the other ladies at the gathering.
“Oh. I had no idea. I’m so sorry, my girl.” Greg wasn’t quite sure why he called her that. It was an endearment that his father had always used for his mother. But right now it felt strangely appropriate and when she didn’t object, he let it go.
“Me too. I’m sorry for you, I mean.” She corrected herself and then added, “My father was the one who taught me statistics and so many other things that most governesses said were inappropriate for ladies to learn. He felt that ‘lady’ was a very constricting word… What was it you called your father? Progressive? I should say that term is also a very fair description of my father. But then again, I suppose a man with four daughters and no sons would have to be!”
“Oh. So you have no brothers? That makes more sense then.”
“What does?”
“Why I have been asked to escort you.” He saw her face begin to darken. “Not that I’m complaining! I assure you I’m not,” he added with a smile. “Just that this is usually a brother’s job.”
“Well, as I have no brothers, my sisters have long since married and gone on with their lives, and I’m the youngest child by many, many years, I believe that you, dear Greg, are it!” She laughed. “I’ve always found it quite funny. Here my family is nothing but daughters while my cousin’s family is nothing but sons! Well, except her that is. Sometimes I don’t understand the way things work out…”
He could tell that last remark referred to much more than family distribution. “I feel that way more and more as time goes on. Does anyone really understand why things happen the way they do?”
“Some people do try very hard to understand. Some people even say that they know.”
“Do they really?” The space between Greg’s eyebrows wrinkled together.
“Ah. Well, the things you learn as a woman at social events. I’ve never been one to stay quiet even when it’s expected, but the things people say when they think you won’t talk back! Listening to them talk you’d think that half these men here are the greatest philosophers of all time and that they hold the key to all of the world’s greatest questions and answers…”
“They don’t!” Greg was intrigued as he’d never really taken the time to listen to what other men said or how they said it. “Do they really do that? I apologize on behalf of my gender.”
“It’s true! They do!” Mary shook her head enthusiastically as she laughed. “I’ll tell you what. Next time you’re having a conversation with one of these society men just stop talking and start nodding. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
“I will definitely have to give that a try,” Greg answered truthfully. Then he tilted his head and pondered her. “So what are the answers?”
“The answers for what?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. For the reason why things are the way they are. The answers to everything in general, I guess.”
Mary let out one quick laugh. “And I would know this, why?”
“Why not you? Why not any of us?” He leaned against the tree they had been standing under. “Haven’t you ever thought about this?”
“Oh, of course. All the time. There was a long time after my father died when all I could do was try to understand. Why him? Why now?”
“And? What did you find out?” He found himself watching her intently, becoming very much intrigued with her and what she thought and what she had to say.
“I found that the possibilities were too endless to ever even try to understand, let alone actually make something meaningful out of them. Even the smallest decisions and the smallest actions have far reaching consequences. So the larger things like death? Where would you even begin? Everything touches something else. Like the waves when you drop a pebble in a pond…” She let her voice trail off, obviously caught up in memories of her father once more.
“How old did you say you were again?” he mused.
“Fourteen. Why?”
“No real reason. It’s just that most girls your age are overly concerned with shoes and dresses, and with prepping for their future social seasons and dreaming of husbands…”
Mary smiled and her cheeks turned slightly pink. She looked down to hide the color on her skin. “That would be my father again. He said I had a spark and that I needed to learn to keep it going on my own before I worried about other silly things… like husbands…”
“Good advice, I’d say. Too many people in our world lose themselves before they’ve ever even found themselves…”
“Well, that sounds like a good enough answer to me.”
“Perhaps.” He smiled and stood back up straight again and straightened his jacket. “I don’t know all of the answers either. What I do know is that I’m glad that things have worked out the way they have today.”
“So am I. I must say I wasn’t looking forward to this day at all, but because of you this day is turning out very bearable. Enjoyable even.” She gave him a warm grin that made his insides melt with happiness.
“The feeling is mutual.” He nodded towards her.
“I’m glad.”
“And so am I,” Greg said with a smile as he held out his arm for her. As they began to walk, Greg recognized that his earlier discontent had almost completely faded away now. “Well, my girl, I’ve just realized that all we’ve been doing is standing here. I suddenly feel that we should take advantage of this beautiful day and move on to more lighthearted conversation. So, what would you like to do for the rest of the morning?”
Her eyes widened with both shock and amusement.
“Oh, my. What would I like to do? What an honor!”
Her smile grew even greater. Greg could tell that she meant it to be coquettish, but there was also a hint of admiration and approval. She was happy to be here with him and he was happy to be here with her. And her smile was exhilarating.
His eyes lingered, much longer than they should have. As a gentleman he knew he should be more cautious and more reserved, especially when keeping public company with a young woman he’d only just met. But it wasn’t every day that he met a woman like this. He decided to ignore the rules.
The breeze began to blow again and she relaxed into him.
This day was very good.
***
Mary had prepared herself for an absolutely awful day. She had gone through every scenario in her mind of everything that might go wrong—a callous mention of her father perhaps, or even an inability to contain her emotions—and also all of the ways that she would deal with these things should they happen. Every scenario ended with her bursting into tears and running away to hide in shame.
None of her elaborately imagined scenarios involved a kind new friend.
Or ended with her smiling and happy.
Yet here she was, having a wonderfully distracting and thought provoking conversation while strolling around the park enjoying a new friend’s company and this beautiful day—which was turning out to be very much the opposite of awful indeed.
Much to her surprise, he asked her what she wanted to do for the rest of the morning. No one but her father had ev
er taken the time to care that she might have wants and needs and desires of her own. Greg cared. And his interest in what she wanted made her all warm and tingly inside. She smiled and she felt her cheeks turn red.
She thought about his request for a moment and then decided, “There is nothing I would like more in the world right now than to walk through the park, enjoy this day, and spend more time with you.”
She felt herself blush but he just smiled and obliged her request.
They were walking in silence now around the pond, just enjoying each other’s presence when Mary noticed that Greg was staring at her. If it had been anyone else, she would have become angry. Instead she couldn’t stop the smile that was taking over her face, or the words that playfully left her mouth.
“Whatever are you gawking at, Greg?”
“Gawking?” He appeared a bit taken aback by her remark.
“Yes, Greg. Gawking. You know. Staring. Looking at something or someone. For extended periods of—”
“I know what gawking means,” he shot back with a half roll of his eyes. She felt he was resisting the urge to stick out his tongue at her.
“Then why the shock at my use of the word?”
“I wasn’t shocked. Simply confused. Because I wasn’t gawking.” And then he quickly justified his statement. “I was merely gazing at. Intently.”
With a slight tilt of her head she regarded him with a look that was both stern and comical. She was learning that he liked to challenge her but she didn’t mind. Actually she loved it and it just served to make her like him more.
“There’s a difference?” she asked.
He returned her look. “Oh yes. Connotation is everything.”
“Is it now?” she mused encouraging him to go on.
“Connotation is the difference between a comedy and a tragedy.”
“Comedy and tragedy? But—” Mary frowned contemplatively. “Those are the makings of fiction. I thought we were speaking about the real world.”
Wicked Game 02 - Something Wicked Page 5