“Father, may I take some of your time to speak with you about Lord Colbourne?”
Mr Pembroke set his chin. He was not an explosive man, and it was from him that William had learned much of his patience and care. And yet this matter of Nora and Lord Colbourne seemed to be bringing out the temper that usually lay buried deep within him.
“I do not know that I am in the mood to hear more of your defence of your friend’s actions in this matter.”
“I will allow him to defend himself.” William extended the letter that he had recently received, and his father took it in hand, reading it over with his face never relenting.
“I see,” his father said after he finished. “You know, I held his father in high esteem. I enjoyed his company and was grieved by his loss. And when I heard that his son might consider my daughter in marriage, I thought it a perfect match. I looked forward to adding another son to our family, to watching our little Nora grow out of her wild ways. For a time, it seemed she had.”
“They have been a good influence on each other, Father.”
“Perhaps, and I trust that this letter is his real sentiment. But I do not appreciate this influence from Lady Colbourne. She behaves as though our family is the dust beneath her feet – the landed gentry that, without a title, is therefore not worthy of her prize son.”
“I do not know that she means such a thing to wound us, father.”
“And yet it is wounding.” He tossed the letter aside. “Do you think Lord Colbourne’s intentions are pure, William?”
William nodded. “I do. I have known him for some time, and I have never seen him look at another the way he looks at Nora. I believe that his feelings and his intentions are pure.”
“Then it is only Lady Colbourne who opposes the match. It is she I must contend with. I plan to travel to Holcombe myself and have things out with the family there so I can be certain of their plans as regards our dear Nora. If that woman thinks that she is better than us – us, who could rescue their crumbling estate with our fortune alone – then I am of a mind to tell her off.”
“I think that would be most unwise, Father.” William sat down and laid a hand on his father’s arm. “You see, in the letter Gerard has asked me to return. I think such an act would be obvious to Lady Colbourne, considering how recently I was visiting there, but I believe we could send James in my stead. He can keep an eye on the situation and speak with Gerard about feelings here. Nora and Gerard are well enough suited, if only all the others can get out of the way and let the marriage happen.”
“That is it,” Mr Pembroke said, tapping his hand in annoyance against the table that separated him and William. “That is what grates at me. Lord Colbourne – before he died – would never have done such a thing. He understood that status was not merely a matter of titles and propriety, it was a matter of what you could make of yourself in the world. The Colbournes would be lucky to be connected with a family like ours. And yet that woman acts as though she is giving us a great prize by allowing our families to associate. I’m of a mind to throw a party, a grand party that will show the Colbournes once and for all what it means to be connected with the Pembroke name, and how dangerous it is if you are not connected.”
“Father –” William began, already seeing the flaw in a vengeful response. But his father broke him off, waving his hand dismissively.
“You have had your way in every other part of this matter, son,” he said quietly. “At least in this one area give me some dignity.”
Chapter 28
Gerard welcomed James to Holcombe with a nervous heart. James had always been the Pembroke brother that he least understood – aloof and unconcerned with matters of society. But more than that Gerard found he was anxious to hear word of Nora, and to be certain that she understood clearly the confusion with Katherine was a matter of his mother’s doing, nothing more.
“How was your journey?” he asked, after James had already been settled in one of the upstairs rooms of Holcombe.
“Quite all right,” James said with a smile. “William said to tell you that all is well.”
“And Miss Pembroke?” Gerard asked, mentally kicking himself for his impatience in asking the question that weighed heaviest on his mind. “How is she?”
“She’s well enough,” James answered.
Gerard waited, hoping that Nora, like William, had sent some manner of message via James. But James said nothing more and instead retired to the parlour where Lady Colbourne and their two guests were having tea. He had been a gentleman since Katherine had arrived a few days before, an easy enough task with a lady as elegant and refined as she. But he found himself growing weary of the constant situations his mother managed to manufacture for them to spend time in private.
“Mr James Pembroke is here per my invitation,” he said, welcoming their guest into the room.
Lady Colbourne had been aware of James’ coming, but she still looked up with barely restrained annoyance at the evidence of yet another Pembroke in her home. “Mr Pembroke, a pleasure,” she said with a brief smile, turning at once back to Katherine and her mother.
Today Katherine was clothed in a pale blue gown that set off her soft hair and alabaster skin. She raised her eyes to Gerard, modest and careful as always in their interactions, and smiled at James.
“Mr Pembroke, a pleasure to see you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” James stood for a moment in the centre of the room, and then quite suddenly added, “and I know you will ask me next about Nora – she’s doing quite well, and I’m certain she will appreciate a visit from you soon.”
Gerard hid a smile. James, unlike William, had not read the situation thoroughly enough to know how uncomfortable the reminder of Nora would be in this particular room of women. But it pleased him to hear her name spoken. Katherine blushed.
“Yes of course. Thank you for telling me of her health. I’m sure I shall be going over to Dearbrooke soon.”
“Gerard,” Lady Colbourne said, regaining herself somewhat. “Perhaps you will walk with Lady Katherine outside. She was just telling me how very much she wanted to see our roses in bloom.”
Gerard looked at his mother for a half second in utter silence. He thought about the last time he’d talked about roses in that garden, looking at the painting Nora had done of Holcombe in the heat of summer, with him standing far away in one of the buildings of the mansion. “The butler,” she had said. It made him smile to remember. He looked at Katherine’s expectant face and felt a twinge of guilt. It was not her fault, after all, that his mother’s designs were so against his own.
“I would be honoured,” he said, offering his arm. Katherine took it and they walked together into the garden beyond. As they went, Gerard heard James sitting down with Lady Barrington and Lady Colbourne to talk, and he smiled to himself to think how appropriate that a Pembroke should be the one engaging them in conversation.
Out of doors, they paused whilst Katherine opened her parasol, and then walked side-by-side but no longer arm-in-arm along the garden path.
“You left London in a hurry,” she said quietly. “Is everything quite all right with the estate?”
He thought of how Nora had grown confident in such matters and smiled. “Yes, things are beginning to set themselves to right. We had a difficulty with our tenants, and a loss of valuable seed. It seems that now we are in a position to change our fortunes with a re-appropriation of our sheep herds…” he paused, seeing a look of confusion on her face. “Is everything quite all right?”
She blushed and looked down. “I’m sorry, I just am not acquainted with a gentleman speaking openly about the workings of his estate.”
He frowned. She had asked, after all, and so he had answered. Now he realised that his time with Nora had made him comfortable speaking about things that he formerly would never have dreamed of sharing in the presence of a lady. He walked for a few more minutes in silence and then Katherine interjected kindly, “If you wish to share, however,
I am happy to listen. I am just unacquainted with the situation, and therefore am uncertain that I can offer any solutions.”
“Perhaps we could speak about your home in London,” Gerard said, deftly rearranging the subject. “I know that you and your mother have quite the social circle established there. Do you miss it when you are in the country?”
“I find that society here is well-established and fulfilling,” she said simply.
There seemed to be nothing more to say. They stopped in front of the roses and Gerard showed them to her, sharing a few snippets of description he had learned over the years from the gardener. She listened with a gentle elegance, not adding any of her own thoughts, but only absorbing his. He thought absently that there was a time in his life when he would have thought her quiet presence was all he wanted in a wife, but now he felt weary of it, and wished to hear her real opinions.
They turned and made their way back down the garden path towards the house.
“What do you think of the countryside?” Gerard asked, trying yet again for conversation.
“I think that it is beautiful,” she responded quietly, “but I feel that I do it an injustice, for while I am here I am always thinking about the city, when I ought to be just thinking about the beauty around me.”
There was a note of warning in her voice that caused Gerard to turn and look at her. He saw conflicting emotions for the first time on her smooth complexion. She turned and looked up at him.
“I wouldn’t want to be spending time with one thing and pining for another,” she said softly.
He nodded, and they walked back into the house in silence. She had communicated her point perfectly. Gerard found himself impressed, as he always was, by her grace and poise. Lady Katherine Barrington was a good prospect herself, and she knew enough to only want Gerard if he was hers for the having, not pursuing a man that was ‘pining for another’.
Only two days later, Katherine cut their visit short. She gave no explanation, only thanking Lady Colbourne and Gerard with grace and announcing that their time at Holcombe had sadly come to an end. When she had gone, Lady Colbourne came into Gerard’s study and stood for a moment in silence by the door.
“What did you say to her?” she asked at last.
“Very little,” Gerard answered. “And I think perhaps that was the problem.”
“You did not make an effort,” Lady Colbourne persisted.
“I told you that I am courting Miss Pembroke, and Lady Katherine knew that. I would not expect any ‘effort’ on my account to be fruitful considering that shared knowledge,” Gerard answered.
She sighed. “And why did you have to bring Mr Pembroke into the house? Is it so necessary that Miss Pembroke has a spy beneath our roof to keep track of your movements?”
“Miss Pembroke was not responsible for James’ visit,” Gerard answered calmly. “I was. I felt more comfortable, under the circumstances, having someone connected to my courtship present to view the arrangements. I want to be above reproof in this matter.”
“You are not above my reproof.” She pulled a letter out of her handbag and tossed it on the table. “And you might as well give this to your Mr James Pembroke. It came earlier in the post.” She turned on her heel and left.
Gerard carried the letter upstairs to James’ chambers. When he was invited in, he gave it over and James read it quickly through, a frown developing on his brow.
“I’m sorry to intrude,” Gerard said. “But is all well at your home? Is your sister well?”
James looked up. “Quite well. It’s odd…my family is hosting a dinner party that seems rather widespread – a summer evening party, if you must, but the odd thing is that my father included a list of the guests invited. Look here.”
Gerard took the list. It was not a surprise. Most of the people were names that were very familiar to him. All of the upper crust society members that were well-to-do and respected in the area. What was astonishing and pointed about the list was not the names that were included, but those that were excluded, namely the Colbournes. He frowned and handed the letter back. James, who rarely had things to say in such matters, shook his head.
“This is confusing,” he said after a moment. “I cannot imagine why your names were left off the list. Not only because of your connection to my sister, but also due to the prominence of your family.”
“It is nothing to concern yourself with,” Gerard said kindly. In truth, he was more than a little perplexed and concerned. Paramount among his worries was the idea that this somehow had to do with his connection with Lady Katherine for the last week. He had not received a single letter from Nora, and the two he had sent had given no reply. He wondered if she was distancing herself from him after learning of the visit of her best friend. This dinner party, to which he would ordinarily not give a second thought, was further evidence of that distancing.
“I think you should come home with me,” James said after a long moment. “I think you should speak to my father yourself.”
Gerard cleared his throat. “I do not wish to intrude where I am not wanted.”
James stood up and tucked the missive into his pocket. “Lord Colbourne, I do not often involve myself in the affairs of my family, but it is my understanding that you have some affection for my little sister, do you not?”
Gerard nodded. “I do. I have the highest respect for her.”
“Then I ought to warn you that this guest list implies some disagreement between our families, and if you wish to pursue Nora, you’re going to need to step on a few toes to get to her.” He shrugged. “I am just the messenger.”
Gerard couldn’t help but smile. “Then let us set out tomorrow to Dearbrooke,” he said, “for all the toe stomping in the world would be worth it if I could just see Miss Pembroke again.”
Chapter 29
Gerard and James rode up to Dearbrooke after the sun had already sunk below the horizon, seeing dimly through the half-light of the dying day. During the ride, they had not talked much – James was not as close of a friend to Gerard as William was, and they had little in common. But as they drew up in front of the livery already teeming with visiting horses and carriages, Gerard ventured to voice his insecurities about their plan at last.
“Perhaps it would be better if I took up at an inn in town for the night and spoke to your father in the morning,” he said quietly, still atop his horse even after James had dismounted. “I don’t wish to intrude on a dinner party to which I was not invited.”
“I thought we agreed that waiting was to be discouraged,” James said, patting his own mount’s flank gently. “I would encourage you to find a moment to speak with my father alone as soon as possible. If you wish to wait until the morning, I suppose that’s your choice, but I would advise against it.”
Gerard nodded and climbed down, pulling his valise along with him. He was still in his riding clothes, nothing befitting a fine dinner party. But his attendance was not for the other guests. He had come to pull aside Mr Pembroke and speak with him on a matter most private. Such a thing did not require fine clothes. He smoothed his hand through his hair and followed James inside.
They walked in through one of the back doorways nearest the livery, thankfully not mounting the front steps where all the other guests of the party might be seen, and James turned at the end of the hall to look at Gerard with an appraising view.
“I will have a servant make up a room for you upstairs,” he said. “Bring your valise in and we can have it placed in your chambers.”
Gerard shook his head. “I think not. It is improper enough that I should appear uninvited to a fine dinner party such as this. I hardly think it acceptable to also impose on your hospitality overnight. No, if you would find your father and pull him aside so I might speak to him with as little disturbance as possible, I will be grateful enough.”
A Baron Worth Loving: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 17