by M. J. Haag
“Too late for what?”
“For you to base your opinion of me on my actions rather than where I live or my name.”
“I most certainly am a man to weigh people based on their actions rather than their pocketbooks. However, I find it curious that you want me to do so. Most of your set prefer the opposite.”
“I’m contrary like that,” I said with a small laugh.
The road changed from trodden dirt to cobble, and I knew we were getting closer to my destination. My steps slowed. I looked at the flickering candles in the lanterns hung high on posts lining the street. I would be safe on my own now. Yet, I didn’t loosen my hold on his arm, unwilling to give up the pleasant company for what awaited me.
“Do you often rescue damsels in the dark?” I asked.
Atwell chuckled.
“This was my first attempt. I’m not sure I would call it a success. I believe the damsel may have had a hand in the rescue.”
I smiled, truly liking him. He wasn’t boastful and didn’t preen even though his looks warranted a bit of preening. His chiseled jaw and large biceps under my palm would be enough to make other girls of my position swoon. If both qualities belonged to someone with a name and wealth.
Why couldn’t the boys my parents threw me at act more like Atwell?
A hint of music reached my ears, and I stopped walking altogether and faced Atwell.
“And does it bother you that someone of the gentler sex trounced her accoster?”
“Bother? Not at all. I’m intrigued and wish…” He shook his head. “I believe it would be best if you carry on without me from here. You should be safe enough.”
I glanced down the lane. I couldn’t yet see the three-story home that I knew waited, set back from the road and alit with candles, music, and unpleasant company. I wished I didn’t have to go.
“Tell me what you wish,” I said softly.
“It was a selfish thought.”
That gained my undivided attention.
“Now you must tell me.”
His gaze swept over my face before locking with my eyes.
“I would wish away your wealth so I might call on you in the morning. But in taking away your wealth, the wish would unmake you. And I like you just as you are.” He caught my hand by the fingers and bent low over them.
“Take care, Margaret. And stay closer to home in the evenings.”
He turned and left. For several long moments, I stared after him, wishing I had the power to grant his wish without changing me, because Atwell was more interesting than any boy I would find within the walls of the House of Greylin.
Squaring my shoulders, I faced my destination. A slow smile lifted my lips as I imagined the reactions of the silly fops inside when they finally saw me.
That smile froze as I recalled my new imperfections.
Whirling, I faced the direction in which Atwell disappeared, and my mouth dropped open. He’d liked me while I was under a spell.
Atwell had truly liked me for me.
Chapter Two
I stood in the street for a moment before I started toward the house. My feet carried me forward as my mind raced. I had been so certain beauty and wealth were my only desirable attributes to a man. Atwell’s interest in me, when he thought I had neither, had me doubting my thinking, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about the new hope growing within me.
A marriage of love was unheard of by the wealthy in Towdown. Yet, I knew it existed. If not in the large homes near the castle, then elsewhere in the Kingdom of Drisdall. Even the king’s marriage was said to be one of alliance rather than affection.
Despite knowing that, the small ball of hope continued to grow in my middle. I wasn't foolish enough to wish for love, but a common affection sounded lovely. I shook my head at the direction of my thoughts. Meeting one nice man did not mean I would walk into a room full of them. Yet, Atwell had proven that nice men did exist. Squaring my shoulders, I started up the drive.
Music and laughter poured from the open door. The attendant waiting to greet guests bowed to me as I approached.
“Margaret, House of Thoning,” I said. “I need no announcement.”
He nodded and bowed again as I entered the extravagant entry. Another servant waited near the cloakroom. I handed over the garment of questionable quality knowing she wouldn’t comment, not when my dress fit the part of a wealthy Miss.
“Miss Thoning,” I repeated so she would remember the correct cloak when I returned for it. Judith wouldn’t be happy if I lost it.
Turning away, I studied the wide space divided lengthwise by stairs that led to the second and third floors. People walked from the parlor to the right and further back to the ballroom. To the left, I saw a long line of tables laden with finger food.
As tempting as it was to hide by the food, I knew I’d find the darling of this ball in the ballroom.
With demure steps and an averted gaze, I moved in that direction. No one paid much attention to me. Not in this crush of people. As soon as I reached the ballroom, warm air that bordered on stifling enveloped me.
I looked around, tapping my foot in time with the melody drifting from the strings of talented musicians. I loved music. However, the music and display of colorful silks never made up for the temperature or the company.
Dancers parted, and I caught a glimpse of Mother and Father speaking to Lord Greylin. I moved further into the throng of people encircling the room to avoid being seen.
On the surface, it appeared everyone was having a wonderful time. However, the Gentry of Drisdall always intermingled with questionable friendliness due to their never-ending pursuit for wealth and influence.
My gaze caught on Anthea and Aleese, who stood deep in conversation instead of dancing. Given the way they kept glancing at Brendal and his friends, I knew who they were discussing but not why. It seemed odd they were talking about him without Freshall.
Curious, I moved closer.
“I heard an agreement’s already been made between the House of Thoning and Lord Greylin,” Anthea, Freshall’s closest friend said.
I felt a moment’s panic. My parents wouldn’t. Surely not.
“I cannot believe Lord Greylin would choose Margaret over Freshall. Freshall has a title,” Aleese said.
“But little money.”
It was precisely for that reason why, despite my best efforts, I was still sought after. The House of Thoning had money. Far too much of it. And as the only heir, that meant any family looking to gain wealth quickly showed interest in me. But only until their sons found the prospect of bedding me for a lifetime far too unappealing.
I looked over at Brendal, determined to do the same to him as I’d done to every prospect before him.
“But Brendal’s father has substantial wealth,” Aleese said. “Why would he…?”
Their conversation faded as I wove my way through the crowd toward where Brendal stood.
I’d long ago discovered the key to being noticed or ignored. It was all about one’s presence. I walked meekly, shoulders curled in and head down a bit. No one minded me. Not even the cluster of boys laughing in a group near a set of open windows.
Taking a moment to enjoy the cool air, I waited.
“Hello, Brendal,” I said softly, interrupting the banter with his friends.
The group turned to glance at me.
“Egad,” Ashton said, a look of shock on his face as he stared at me.
“Is that you, Miss Thoning?” Horace, Aleese’s older brother asked.
“Yes. I’m s-sorry about my ap-pearance,” I said. “I didn’t have t-time for a b-beauty s-s-spell.”
I thought my stutter quite clever. None of these fops had spent more than a few required moments in my presence to actually know me.
Horace’s gaze dipped to my middle.
“If having to choose between a pretty face or a trim waist, always choose the face,” he said.
“I can’t stop staring at her mole,” Ashworth said in a
mock whisper.
I couldn’t have been more pleased with their reactions. Though I didn’t let it show on my face. Turning toward Brendal, I gave him my full attention.
“My parents wanted me to introduce myself,” I said with a small curtsy.
“Did they now?” He looked me over with a critical eye and shook his head. “You are homely at best. I suppose your figure isn’t too bad. And you’re right, a beauty spell could help the rest.” He shrugged. “It isn’t as if I have much choice in the matter.”
He offered me his arm, and my mouth dropped open as my mind raced. I didn’t want his bitter acceptance. I wanted his scorn and dismissal. An idea formed.
Accepting his arm, I let him escort me away from his friends.
“Y-you’re wrong,” I said.
“Oh, about what?”
“A s-s-spell helping. I a-always react b-badly. Horace saw the results of the last one. The w-weight I gained s-s-stayed with me for d-days after the s-s-spell wore off. The local caster s-said I should avoid all s-s-spells in the future.”
He stopped walking and faced me.
“Please stop speaking,” he said with an angry scowl. “It hurts to listen to you.”
“It is obv-v-vious that you do not care for my presence. Sp-speak out against my p-presence, and my p-parents will listen.”
“I most certainly will speak out against you. I find you repulsive and unpleasant to be near.”
I struggled to keep the joy from my face. Thankfully, his gaze flicked to someone behind me so I could compose myself. When he looked at me once more, I had a suitably devastated expression upon my face.
“But it is not my decision to make,” he said, killing my victory.
I angrily yanked my arm from his.
“Stubborn fool,” I said crossly. “I will not suffer a lifetime of you.”
He gave me an indolent shrug that made me want to stomp on his foot. Instead, turning to storm away, I crashed into a solid male chest.
“Father, Miss Thoning as requested,” Brendal said from behind me.
I straightened away from the arms politely steadying me and looked up at Lord Greylin. His bland expression didn’t fool me, and I wondered how much he’d heard.
“Miss Thoning,” he said with a nod and a sweeping glance at my face. “If you have a moment, I would like to speak with you privately.”
“Of course,” I said, already reaching for the arm he offered. A private discussion meant I could speak my mind without causing a scene. Hopefully, I would only need to point out Brendal’s distaste for me for the matter of our nuptials to be settled. If not, I would flatly state I refused to wed him. The latter would upset my parents, but surely, they would see that having a title held no value to me.
Lord Greylin led me out of the ballroom to a study toward the back of his house. The small study was furnished comfortably with several chairs and a desk for the Lord to hand daily estate affairs.
“Please have a seat.” He waited until I did so. “I apologize for Brendal’s behavior. He will show you the respect required.”
Those didn’t sound like the words of a father willing to listen to reason. Quite the opposite. Desperate not to offend, yet equally desperate not to encourage, I chose my words carefully.
“Respect is necessary to keep a peaceful household,” I said. “But it cannot be forced. Not true respect. That must be earned. And Brendal is too caught up in my appearance to ever consider truly respecting me.”
Lord Greylin studied me for a long moment.
“While you may not have beauty, you do have a keen intelligence for someone your age. I admire that. I must admit that I found it odd that your father approached me, but I now understand why and am glad he did. We will be well suited for each other.”
I stared at him not sure I was hearing correctly.
“We? You and I? Not Brendal and I?”
Lord Greylin smiled slightly. “Given Brendal’s distaste for you, I think the pair of you would not have an easy life together. As it is, I’m prepared to place a condition on his inheritance to ensure he respects you appropriately. The condition will be easier to enforce once you’re with child, of course.”
His gaze swept over me, and I could see the hunger there. I took a hasty step back.
“I do not think we are suited,” I said quickly.
“You do not wish to marry me?”
“What young miss would wish to marry a stranger?” Or a man the same age as her father, I thought to myself.
“I see. You wish to be courted.”
“No, sir. I wish to be understood.”
“And I wish to understand.”
His words seemed sincere and gave me hope.
“I have parents who are determined to wed me to whomever holds the better advantage for our house. You say I have intelligence, and I say, ‘what use is intelligence in chattel?’ Do not misunderstand me. I do respect you, but I want to be more than a thing traded to bring more money to your household. I want to be valued for me. But how can any man value me when he does not know me?”
He tilted his head in acknowledgement, and I held my breath. Surely he would agree we could not wed.
“Then I will make an effort to know you between now and our wedding. Come. Let us return to the ballroom. I would like to speak to your father again.”
Defeated for the moment, I took his arm and let him escort me from the study. Although I hadn’t persuaded Lord Greylin to drop the matter, I still had the carriage ride home with my parents to make my feelings known. However, I couldn’t let them see me until the spell wore off.
“Lord Greylin, I beg you continue without me,” I said when we reached the ballroom. “I need a few moments to myself.”
He nodded and released me with a polite bow. I curtsied in return then fled to the dining room. For the next hour, I nibbled and drank and avoided eye contact until my nose began to itch. Knowing the spell was finally wearing off, I went for my cloak.
The girl blinked at me when I said my name but didn’t question me. When she handed me my cloak, I pressed a gold into her palm.
“For discretion and a message to my parents,” I said.
She nodded.
“Can you let them know I’m not feeling well and am waiting for them in the carriage.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
While she scurried off, I went outside and looked for our carriage among those lined up along the drive.
As soon as our driver saw me, he hopped down from his position atop the carriage and helped me into my seat. I didn’t know his name or ask it. Drivers, like most of our staff, didn’t stay long. Father was concerned that they would figure out a way to steal from us. Most lasted a year. No more.
The practice of regularly dismissing one’s servants was not limited to the House of Thoning. The gentry of Drisdall couldn’t be bothered to care that the livelihood of others depended on them. They couldn’t be bothered with more than their own petty—
The carriage door opened, startling me from my thoughts.
“There you are,” Father said jovially. He offered his hand to Mother so she could step up into the carriage. Both of them smiled at me as they settled into their seats.
“Well done, Margaret,” Father said, knocking on the top of the carriage.
With a small lurch, we started moving.
“I apologize for any inconvenience leaving early caused. I ate too much and am not feeling well,” I said.
“Not at all, my dear.”
Father’s continued good humor worried me. He leaned back in the seat and patted Mother’s hand.
“You must be so thrilled,” she said. “I will admit I thought you would try to ruin this chance to wed Lord Greylin.”
I stared at my mother, torn between anger and surprise that she believed I could be thrilled.
“Since I was under the impression you meant for me to meet the future Lord Greylin and not the present one, I cannot say I am thrilled.”
“What then are you saying?” Father asked, his good humor fading. “Lord Greylin said you insisted on an extended engagement.”
“Lord Greylin heard what he wished to hear.” A trait men my father’s age seemed to share.
“Speak plainly. Are you saying you do not wish to marry Lord Greylin, cousin to the king?” Father’s face reddened as he spoke.
“What do you hope to gain from a union with Lord Greylin?” I asked.
“Audience with the King and Queen, of course,” Mother said.
Father grunted his agreement.
“And will basking in their magnificence gratify you in some way? Do you think the populace will then bow and scrape to you, too?”
“Do not test me with your impertinence,” Father said.
“Test you? I am merely trying to understand why you would sell me to a man twice my age. Or why a man twice my age, who already has wealth and an heir, would want me.”
Father leaned forward. “I spoke to Lord Greylin because men your age will not have you. We are fortunate Lord Greylin will. As to his motives, I do not care.”
“And that should be the basis of my agreement? Lord Greylin’s benevolent tolerance of me? No. I refuse.”
Father’s face turned purple then white before assuming a hot red color that matched his coat.
“If you refuse this match, you will be cast from this house with no wealth or possessions, never to return.”
I glanced at Mother. Her hands were tightly clenched and her eyes downcast.
I opened my mouth to say more, but a bang on the roof interrupted me. The carriage started to slow. A shout rang out above the sound of the carriage wheels over cobble.
Father switched to my seat and opened the sliding panel in the wall that showed the view ahead of us. The low hum of more voices briefly filled the carriage before Father closed the panel once more.
“Something is afoot,” Father said. “Stay inside.”
He opened the door and left me alone with Mother.
“And will you throw me away so easily?” I asked softly.
“If you carry so little affection for your family, then I must.”
“How does marrying Lord Greylin show my affection for you and Father?”