Eleanor wrung her hands together. How could she leave the protection of her brother when she had just found her way home again? Where could she find a husband so quickly?
Lord Coventry nodded his agreement. “I know of several unattached men in the surrounding area. The Baron of Crawley comes to mind, but of course, it would take a great deal of sacrifice to marry without equal connections and wealth to offer. There are several other gentlemen of my acquaintance we might introduce to Mrs. Quinton. They may find other qualities in her to be enough to elicit a marriage.”
“Have you considered Lord Keswick?” Grace asked. “He or his younger brother would offer the needed connections. They both have lovely properties in Sussex that would keep Eleanor and her son hidden and safe from Mr. Quinton.”
Lord Coventry shook his head. “The eldest is recently married and the younger is quite determined to marry an heiress.”
The barrister drummed his fingers on the table. “It will be difficult, to be sure.” The optimism had begun to fade from the man’s normally cheerful voice.
Eleanor felt a mixture of both relief and disappointment. She would likely not find a man to marry. But how could she risk losing Arthur? There was nothing she would not do to keep him, even if it meant risking a loveless marriage all over again. Her heart pounded as the room fell silent. Every voice had offered suggestions that were quickly rejected.
Or rather—all but one voice.
Mr. Beaumont had remained rather silent, his arms crossed and his blue eyes far more ponderous than Eleanor had ever seen them.
As the silence thrummed louder, Mr. Beaumont sat forward in his chair. “I will marry her.”
Chapter 6
It took a moment for Eleanor to register the deep baritone voice that had just spoken a most unexpected phrase.
Everyone in the room fell even more silent than they had already been, which Eleanor had previously thought to be impossible. Every eye shifted to Mr. Beaumont.
His face mirrored the surprise she felt, as if he hadn’t entirely intended to volunteer his services. Marry her? Eleanor had always believed there were limits to kindness, even among the most valiant of people.
She stared at him, trying to appear less shocked than she felt. Waiting for someone to speak felt like it lasted an eternity, but finally Mr. Beaumont broke eye contact, addressing the barrister. “My connections are not as great as a peer, but I happen to be the brother of one of the most influential peers in the county. By marrying me, Mrs. Quinton would be connected to Lord and Lady Coventry through far more than a mere acquaintance.” Mr. Beaumont’s tone was even and casual, offering the marriage as one might offer a spare egg to a neighbor. Did he not have higher aspirations for his life than to marry a widowed woman with a young child, one whose reputation would likely hurt his own? His conversation with her coachman came to mind, when he had said that he hoped only to marry for ardent love and affection. Why was he willing to sacrifice that now? Eleanor could hardly believe what she was hearing.
“Please, Mr. Beaumont,” she said, her voice quick. “You have already helped me in so many ways.” She had yet to thank him privately for paying her coachman. “There is no need to be so benevolent.”
The barrister seemed to still be pondering the idea. His expression slowly lifted into a smile and he gave a nod. “I would not be so swift to deny Mr. Beaumont’s offer, Mrs. Quinton. He makes a very valid point.”
Eleanor could not deny that marrying Mr. Beaumont would be a much more desirable option than marrying a complete stranger. She had already seen Mr. Beaumont demonstrate a considerable amount of kindness, and if that was not a testament to a person’s character, then she did not know what else could hold a greater weight. But she could not allow him to marry her strictly out of the goodness of his character. Could she?
She studied his expression, hoping to find a hint of selfishness there. His eyes were both calm and tempest tossed, as if he himself were conflicted over what he had just offered.
“Mrs. Quinton,” he began. “I told you I would help you in any way I could. I am a man of my word. If a marriage between us will protect you and your son, I would be honored to help you.”
Eleanor turned to Adam, seeking reassurance from him. His expression was difficult to read from his profile, but she could see that his jaw was set firmly, and that could only mean one thing. “No,” he said. “We will find a different family to connect Eleanor with. Surely there is another option.”
Amelia gave an exasperated sigh at the same moment Grace did, although Amelia’s was slightly louder. “Adam, I’m afraid the decision is not yours to make.”
“I am acting as Eleanor’s guardian.”
Eleanor had known Adam to be very protective of her for her entire life, but she had never seen him so protective as she had since returning to Brighton. She could not blame him for it, and she was grateful, but she had learned in her time away that she needed to make her own decisions, no matter how difficult.
She lowered her voice to a whisper. She hoped Mr. Beaumont could not hear it from across the room. “Adam—I do believe it is the best option I have, and a very good one. Mr. Beaumont has shown himself to be honorable in every way.” She hoped it were true.
Adam drew a deep breath. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
“Very well.” Adam still appeared displeased with the arrangement, but her assuredness seemed to have calmed him.
Mr. Harrison watched them carefully from across the desk, his gaze flickering to Mr. Beaumont and back again. “As I said before, this is very advisable. I can think of no better option for the safety of both Mrs. Quinton and the child. And I can speak my own endorsement of Mr. Beaumont’s character. He is a good man. So. Will you marry him?”
Eleanor’s eyes locked with Mr. Beaumont’s again, and she found within them enough strength to answer. “I will.”
Mr. Beaumont’s face showed little emotion but the residual shock from his offer. She felt a pang of guilt stab through her chest. Did he regret it already? She glanced at Lord Coventry, who now leaned his head on his hand. There was a feathery smile on his lips, mingled with a look of disbelief. “I can procure a special license for the marriage if that is desirable,” he said, looking up. “It would be wise to keep it as secret as we are able.”
“How soon could you procure one?” Mr. Harrison asked.
“As soon as next week. Will that give you both enough time to make any needed arrangements?”
Eleanor’s stomach flipped. She had hoped to stay home for much longer than one week, to enjoy Brighton a bit longer before being torn away from it again. She stopped herself. She was not being torn away this time. She was going willingly to protect Arthur. Mr. Quinton would not be able to find her easily in Worthing, and he wouldn’t be able to take Arthur. She felt a new surge of courage at that thought.
Eleanor nodded. “I will do whatever is needed.” She tried not to look at Mr. Beaumont again, but she couldn’t help her own curiosity.
“One week will be just fine,” he said.
“Where will the ceremony be held?” Mr. Harrison asked. “I will speak with the vicar and arrange his services for the chosen date and time.”
“Wednesday next?” Adam suggested.
Mr. Beaumont gave a nod. “That will do just fine.”
“We can hold it here in our drawing room,” Grace said.
“That would be wise,” Lord Coventry said. “The church bells declaring the marriage of a missing woman would draw a great deal of gossip.” His voice carried a hint of humor. Eleanor could find nothing humorous about her current situation.
“Very well. It is settled, then.” Mr. Beaumont stood, sharing a quick glance with Eleanor before walking toward her. “Will ten o’clock on Wednesday be a suitable time?”
She nodded, unsettled by his sudden approach. “Yes.” The awkwardness was excruciating. Was she supposed to thank him? She thought that was probably the appropriate response, considering
that he had offered to marry her solely to protect her and her son. She searched again for a sign of selfish motivation in his eyes, but she could find none. He did not desire her money, for she had none. He didn’t desire her—she was no great beauty. He simply desired to give what he could to improve her life. Her mind raced with the oddity of such behavior. The unfamiliarity of it.
Before she could collect her thoughts and stammer her gratitude, the barrister recalled Mr. Beaumont’s attention. “Are you certain you wish to carry this out?”
Eleanor froze. This was his opportunity to change his mind. Part of her wished he would. Then she would not feel so guilty.
“Yes.”
Mr. Harrison’s expression, still slightly grim, lightened. “Very well.” He turned to Eleanor. “Please keep me informed of any other correspondence you receive from Mr. Quinton. I do not think he will be of any threat to your son now that you are to be married to Mr. Beaumont, but I am here to help you if needed.”
“Thank you.” Thank you was not such a difficult thing to say. Why had she been unable to say it to Mr. Beaumont? He must have thought her a simpleton or a very disagreeable person, neither of which he deserved to have to marry.
“I hope you will find much happiness together,” Mr. Harrison said, his gaze shifting between Eleanor and her new betrothed.
The awkwardness only grew in weight, and Eleanor felt stifled by the entire room—the drawn curtains, the extravagant number of surrounding books, and all the eyes that rested on her. “Thank you.” It was now all she seemed able to say.
She made to stand, and Mr. Beaumont stepped forward, offering his hand to help her up from the deep cushions. She hesitated much longer than she should have but took it firmly. Good heavens, her hand was so much smaller than his. He pulled her to her feet, releasing her hand the moment she was up. She avoided his eyes, feeling strangely shy.
Adam stepped up beside her, shaking Mr. Beaumont’s hand. “Thank you for helping my sister in such a way. I am sorry to have doubted you.” Eleanor watched as he and Lord Coventry exchanged a glance and was surprised to see Adam approach him.
“I’m glad to see that you are trying to atone for your previous mistakes.” There was an edge of lightness to Adam’s voice.
Lord Coventry raised his eyebrows. “Do you suppose we can be friends?”
“I think we can call it a truce for now.”
Eleanor hated to have been the cause of any dispute but was glad to hear Adam’s smile and a tone of apology in his voice.
“I must admit I didn’t believe the claims that you were a changed man,” Adam said. “I can see now that I was wrong. Your actions have shown it more than words ever could, and they will continue to show it as you use your connections in society for good.”
“As I always have.” Lord Coventry said.
Half the room chuckled at that, alleviating a small portion of the awkwardness.
Mr. Beaumont still stood near Eleanor, close enough that she could smell clean soap and fresh linen of his clothing. She clasped her hands together, staring down at them as if they were far more interesting than the conversation taking place around her.
“I will do all I can to ensure you and Arthur are comfortable and happy,” Mr Beaumont said. His words struck her, deep and jarring.
Her eyes found his, and she was shocked to see the sincerity in them. “Why?”
He seemed taken aback by her question, but she couldn’t help but ask it. Her own husband had not cared for her happiness before, and now a near stranger cared deeply enough for it to sacrifice his own chance at happiness—at true love, for her safety.
His features settled into a look of compassion. “You deserve it.”
Did she deserve it? She had lied more times to count in the recent days.
“As do you.” She glanced up at him, realizing how tall he was beside her. The top of her head must have only reached to the level of his mouth. Her late husband had been the same height as her, leaving his eyes level with hers. Oh, how she had hated those eyes.
She searched for something to say, uncomfortable with the persisting silence. “You will be pleased to hear that my coachman never ceased to compliment your meal on our drive to Brighton.”
Mr. Beaumont smiled. “I cannot say that I am surprised.”
“He does have a quick tongue. I don’t think he stopped talking at all.”
His eyes glinted with mirth. “If one is going to speak so continuously, it should very well be flattering words. Especially if they are aimed toward me.”
He seemed more like Lord Coventry than ever in that moment. His confidence was reassuring, and she knew the arrogance was a fabrication. Her shoulders relaxed as relief flooded her. As greatly as it terrified her to marry another man, if she was to be forced into it, then that man might as well be Mr. Beaumont. She could think of no better alternative. With her worries put to ease, she felt herself smiling a little. Optimism had become her friend over the last five years. She could not let it abandon her now.
“We will come together a week hence for the wedding,” she heard Adam say.
She pulled her gaze from Mr. Beaumont’s. Adam ushered her toward him where he stood near the door with Amelia. Eleanor joined them, thanking Mr. Harrison before the trio departed. Why could she not find the words to thank Mr. Beaumont? She cursed herself silently as she entered the carriage and set off toward home.
The reality of what had just occurred seemed to strike her then, threading up her arms and finding solidarity with her heart. She would soon have a new home outside of Brighton. But as long as Arthur was safe, she could undertake any new challenge.
* * *
“What the devil have you done?” Edward asked, his tone exasperated as the last of their guests exited the drawing room.
Henry could not look away from the door, his mind in a distant place. What had he done? The offer to marry Mrs. Quinton had simply slipped out of him, born from the look of fear and helplessness on the woman’s face.
“I could not stand by, entirely capable of helping the matter, and do nothing.” Henry’s voice was resolute as he turned to face his brother and his uncharacteristically quiet wife.
“There is a line to be drawn when it comes to goodwill, Henry.” Edward rubbed a hand over his hair. “There was a time that I intended to sacrifice love in a marriage for the sake of keeping my inheritance, which was the only thing important to me at the time. Only later did I realize that Grace was all that truly mattered. Love was all that mattered.”
Henry had always hoped to marry a woman that he loved deeply, but he had felt compelled to abandon all reason at the chance to help Eleanor. “The only thing important to Eleanor is her son’s safety,” Henry said. “I will sacrifice that which is important to me if it means preserving that which is important to her. I daresay a child’s happiness and well-being are far more important than my ambitions of finding love.”
Edward stared at Henry for a long moment, his features relaxing. “I have never fully understood your inborn selflessness. You ought to try to be a bit more selfish. You make the rest of humanity look quite evil in comparison.”
Henry lowered his gaze, embarrassed by the rare praise from his brother. “It is no great sacrifice. At any rate, I am lonely at my Worthing estate. The company will be refreshing.”
“Ah. There is one selfish motivation. Are there any others?”
Henry refused to admit the draw he felt to Eleanor. He wanted to come to know her, to make her smile, to give her some reason to find joy after she had endured so much heartache. He found her intriguing in a way he could not explain. No, his motivations were not entirely selfless. He did not wish to see her wed to another man, one that would not care for her and her child the way he would try his hardest to do. He wanted to protect her, to see her well. To ensure she found the happiness she deserved.
Edward took a deep breath. “I suppose I am just disappointed. Now you have no chance at finding a woman to marry that you truly
love.”
Grace placed a hand on Edward’s arm, shaking her head. “No, that is not true at all. This entire situation could become the perfect beginning to Henry’s love story.”
Edward gave her a skeptical look. “You cannot believe Henry loves Eleanor.”
“Not yet, but I would not condemn the idea. You certainly did not love me when we first met.” Her brown eyes took on a teasing glint, pulling a smile from Edward’s face. He kissed the top of her head as he laughed. “And you certainly did not love me. Not even remotely.”
“I hated you,” she said without a flinch or hint of apology. “And you deserved it.”
Edward opened his mouth in protest, but she continued, covering his lips with her fingertips.
“However, I grew to love you more than I ever thought possible. Henry and Eleanor are already well on their way. I see no signs of hatred between them. I’m certain they will learn to love one another if they choose to.”
Henry had been watching the exchange with growing unease. “Choose to?”
Grace turned to face him, a thoughtful expression marking her features. “Love is at least half choice, just like happiness is. If you choose to have it, you are already halfway there. The rest will present itself when you least expect it.”
Edward, ever the romantic, rolled his eyes, pulling his wife closer. “I will not pretend to understand your philosophies on love, but if they took any part in bringing you to me, then I will adore them always.”
Grace smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You are quite fortunate that I love you. If not, I would have throttled you at least a dozen times already.”
Edward laughed.
Henry drew a deep breath, hoping the sound would call his brother and sister-in-law’s attention back to the matter at hand. He knew he could not undo his decision to marry Mrs. Quinton, but he needed help understanding how to move forward. His decision had been entirely spontaneous, and he did not deal well with spontaneity.
An Unexpected Bride Page 6