“I will meet your Mr. Grayson, but it is my duty to see a proper match for you.”
But Adeline was too overjoyed to hear the second half of his statement. He was glad to bring her such pleasure, but it would only forestall the inevitable sorrow when he refused Mr. Grayson.
Young Grayson approached Arthur in the cardroom. Arthur had just finished playing several hands of brag when Mr. Grayson asked to sit with him.
Arthur picked up the decanter of burgundy and offered it to Grayson, who politely declined. It was a minute mark in the young man’s favor that he did not avail himself of wine too readily.
“My lord, it is a great pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance,” Grayson said, a touch exuberantly.
“I take it my ward has finally given you permission to speak with me,” Arthur remarked as he appraised Grayson more closely. The young man was sharply but modestly dressed. Here was no pink of the ton.
Grayson laughed nervously. “That she has.”
“You do not mind being restricted by one of the gentler sex?”
“I choose to honor Adel—Miss Hartshorn’s request. I have no wish to cause her pain in any way.”
“No? I think it behooves us to speak frankly with one another.”
He stopped for Grayson's reaction.
“By all means, my lord.”
“I am aware of my ward’s feelings, and it would seem her affections are reciprocated.”
“Twofold!”
“That the two of you have conducted a furtive courtship, without my knowledge or that of her grandmother, does not speak well.”
Grayson had the same crestfallen look Adeline had had earlier, but he mustered his courage and forged ahead. “I understand.”
Arthur leaned back in his chair. Here was a chance for Grayson to place the blame at Adeline's feet, but he didn't.
“I can only ask your forgiveness,” Grayson continued. “We have every wish to be above board and to earn our way into your good graces.”
“Why now?”
Grayson paused before saying, “Because I wish to ask for her hand.”
Arthur rose to his feet. “You what?”
Grayson looked worried and appeared to swallow with difficulty. “Please know that I love Miss Hartshorn, and I have every intention of being the best husband—”
“You've known each other all of three months and wish to be married?”
“Does love have a prerequisite set of time?”
“What can you know of love? You are but twenty, and she eight and ten years of age.”
“Many have married at our ages. It is hardly unusual.”
“But it is unusual to ask me for my blessing when you have known me all of five minutes.”
“Adeline told me much about you, of your kind temperament and generosity.”
“And she has told me nothing about you. You said you have no wish to cause Adeline pain, but surely you know that you are hardly the best match for her, the pain it would cause her family.”
Grayson straightened. “While I may not have the wealth and breeding she deserves, no man could treat her better. She will want for nothing for I have sworn that my first purpose in life is to see to her happiness.”
Arthur was glad to see that the young man had some backbone, but he was not ready to concede. “You think highly of yourself, then, if you think she would be happiest with you.”
“It is not born of conceit, my lord, but the depth of my devotion. I have seen in my parents’ marriage that there is much happiness to be had when there is love, respect and friendship. A foundation in these qualities can weather anything.”
“That is a lovely sentiment but naive. What does your mother think of all this?”
“She is happy for me.”
“She knows and condones your desire to marry?”
Grayson hesitated. “I had thought to have your approval before I told her the happy news.”
“Even had you the sort of background that would befit Adeline’s hand, I know not that I would approve of so quick a marriage.”
“What length of time would comfort you?”
Arthur sat back down. “I know not. I would have to give it some thought. At least a threemonth.”
Grayson paled.
“If your love is as grand as you claim, you will wait for her.”
“My love is true and steadfast, but we see no reason to wait when both of us are ready.”
Arthur shook his head. Mrs. Grayson had not seemed the sort of woman to raise a frivolous child, but perhaps the absence of a father had consequences upon the son. Not knowing Grayson well, it would be unwise to forbid the marriage outright. He might run off to Gretna Green with Adeline.
Arthur’s thoughts turned back to Mrs. Grayson. Here was occasion to speak with her again.
Chapter 5
“My dear, why so glum?” Philippa asked George in the carriage ride home. She glanced over at Honora, who shrugged her shoulders. How could he have gone from elation to sorrow in the course of a single ball? Had he quarreled with Miss Hartshorn?
“I met the Viscount Carrington,” George replied.
Philippa’s heart sank. She guessed, “He did not approve of your suit?”
George kept his gaze downcast.
“Melinda said Lady Bettina is quite high and mighty, but it does not follow that Lord Carrington must be the same. What did Miss Hartshorn say of her guardian?”
“She thought he might be more amenable to us as he is nearer our generation than Lady Bettina’s.”
“Did he forbid you from seeing Miss Hartshorn?”
“No.”
“Then what did he say?”
“He did not think it a fitting match, though I don’t think he was against me entirely. But he did disapprove of my request for her hand.”
Philippa’s eyes widened. “You requested her hand in matrimony?”
“I had not thought to do it tonight, but I love her, Mama.”
“Marriage need not follow the instant you fall in love.”
George looked more miserable.
“You should tell her,” Honora encouraged him.
Philippa sat at attention. “Tell me what?”
“You like her, do you not?” George asked of his mother.
“Miss Hartshorn? She seems delightful, but I barely know her.”
“I know her well, and she is the most gentle and sweet creature. And I will do what it takes to marry her.”
“But why the rush? And with Christmas yet to pass.”
“We met in Bath at a dinner party of Colonel Worth, who is an uncle of Harold’s,” George explained.
Harold was George’s bosom friend from Cambridge.
“I came across her crying in the gardens,” he continued. “I made her laugh. She would not tell me why she was crying, but we found we enjoyed each other’s company. When I was not with her, I spent every waking hour thinking of her. Mama, I have never had this happen with anyone.”
“Not even when he courted Josephine,” Honora added.
“I could not be happy without her.”
“That is a drastic claim,” Philippa said. “Youth has a way of coloring love, making it more grandiose and devastating—”
“But you and Father married when you were our age.”
“That was a different time.”
“It was not so long ago.”
“Is it your wish or hers to marry soon?”
“It is both our wishes. And if Lord Carrington will not give his approval, we will go to Gretna Green.”
“You must not! That is the absolute wrong thing to do. You will only upset her family more. They may even disown her.”
“That could not be worse than…”
“Than what?”
When George did not answer, Philippa looked to Honora, who looked down as well. She turned back to George.
“Adeline thinks she may be with child.”
Philippa felt the world spinning about her in wors
e ways than waltzing.
“Have I done so poor a job in raising you?” she cried.
He clasped her hands. “Mama, it is not my child. I would never have compromised her.”
This was too much, Philippa decided. She looked to Honora for some sense.
“Adeline confessed to me a month later why she had been crying that night at the home of Colonel Worth. Her lover, a lieutenant, in Colonel’s Worth regiment, was engaged to another.”
“But it ought be this lieutenant who should marry her.”
“She wants nothing to do with him.”
“How very convenient that she should then fall in love with you!”
“She is not like that, Mama. There is not a duplicitous bone in her body.”
“Are you quite sure?”
“I am. Just as sure as Father was when he married you.”
Philippa paused. She and Francis had had a relative quick courtship as well, marrying within four months of their introduction.
“Are you certain she loves you? Perhaps her broken heart lends her to falling in love with the next man to come along.”
“You think I cannot captivate a woman on my own merits?”
“I would not question any woman who falls for you.”
“Mama, even if she did not love me, I love her. And I will do whatever it takes to guard her reputation.”
Philippa let out a long sigh. She could see the determination in her son. He would go to Gretna Green, and there was little she could do save warn Lord Carrington, who might then send Miss Hartshorn to a nunnery. But she could not betray her son, nor break his heart.
She spent most of the night awake, mulling over the situation. A part of her could scarcely believe it. What an absolutely daft night it was! She thought of Miss Hartshorn, who had seemed rather innocent, and perhaps she was. Philippa recalled how close she herself had come to giving her maidenhead to her husband before they were married. And she could not fault George for wishing to have as happy a marriage as he had witnessed.
She thought of her exchange with the Viscount Carrington, of his words about shielding children from their own folly. Had he known then that his ward and George desired to marry? She would have to speak with Lord Carrington.
The prospect made her groan. The man was not easy to talk with, and now she had to present an even more delicate subject.
When sleep came at last, she dreamed of whirling about the ballroom with Lord Carrington. She dreamed that he held her close, lowered his head, and kissed her.
She awoke with a gasp and a disconcerting warmth in her belly.
She stared up at the canopy of her bed. “Heaven help me.”
“Did you know he intended to ask for your hand?” Arthur asked Adeline as they took tea in the drawing room of his townhome. He had specifically invited Adeline over when he knew Lady Bettina to be occupied elsewhere. He would have spoken with his ward earlier at the conclusion of the Moorington ball, but they had offered to share their carriage home with two friends of the family.
Adeline's hand shook as she reached for a biscuit. She gave a small nod.
“He is very hasty.”
She looked up at him. “He is very—we are very eager. When there is no doubt as to how fond we are of one another…”
“Yes, he professed his love most emphatically.”
“Did you not like him?” she asked with great worry.
“I liked him well enough, given I know so little of him. As such, you cannot expect that I would so readily approve his suit.”
He hated the crush of disappointment upon her face.
In a small voice, she asked, “How much longer would you need to feel you know him well enough?”
“I know not, but it seems he would have it as soon as possible, this month even, though you both know no proper wedding can be had during Christmas.”
“In January then?”
Arthur rubbed a temple. “I know not that I wish to give him encouragement if I am to reject him later. Our grandmother would never sanction a relationship with someone as common as George Grayson.”
“That is because she is of another generation. Surely you are not so old-fashioned to think so?”
Silent in thought, he considered a handful of relationships he knew in which a family friend or acquaintance had married beneath their station. There was Lady Katherine, a once frequent guest of Château Debauchery, who had taken for her second husband a man of vastly inferior background, but he understood them to be very happy. There was also the marquess who had married a mulatto.
“While I would not censure the joining of two people from vastly different backgrounds,” he replied, “society will make it hard upon you.”
“We care not what society thinks. We know we shall be happy together.”
“You think so now, but in hindsight, you may feel differently.”
“I thought you possessed a more progressive mind! Are society's norms more important than my happiness?”
“It is your happiness I'm trying to guard.”
“Then let us marry!”
Arthur shifted in his seat. It was one thing for a titled nobleman to wed beneath himself. It was different for a young woman like Adeline. He glanced over at her. He could not gaze upon her pained expression for long. He rose to his feet.
“If we cannot have each other, I know not what I should do,” Adeline cried. “I cannot even conceive of the despair I should be in.”
He considered discussing the matter with Lady Bettina, but he knew exactly what his grandmother would say, and in no uncertain terms. His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a footman, who presented him with a card, a request from Mrs. Grayson to call on him.
Chapter 6
Philippa paced the drawing room as she waited for Lord Carrington. The man whom she had offended and spilled wine upon held the happiness of her son in his hands. She was glad she and the Viscount had buried the hatches before the night at the Moorington ball had concluded, but how would he receive her now? George had said that though his lordship had not been unkind, it was clear he did not regard her son’s suit highly.
Two days had passed since the Moorington ball, and though George had been devastated by Lord Carrington’s disapproval, he had become more resolute to marry Miss Hartshorn. Philippa could say nothing to dissuade him from taking Miss Hartshorn to Gretna Green if needed, and she knew her son would do it. He had his father’s determination. She recalled when George was eight and deathly afraid of heights, he had determined that he would climb to the top of their fir tree because a friend of his had dared him to. Through much trembling and perspiring, George had made it to the top.
Yesterday, Philippa had met with Miss Hartshorn, who had arranged with George that she would be at St. James’ Park with a friend. Miss Hartshorn was as polite and deferential as before. She had acknowledged that running off to Gretna Green was severe, but she could think of no other solution. Philippa could see the poor thing was petrified. She also saw that Miss Hartshorn seemed to worship George. Perhaps the young woman saw him as her savior. Her temperament might do nicely for him, Philippa decided.
She would support their desire to marry and do what she could to prevent their running off to Gretna Green.
“Mrs. Grayson,” Lord Carrington greeted.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” she said, catching her reflection in the looking glass behind him. She had taken more pains than usual in her toilette. For such an important conversation, she would have wanted to look her best. But she had chosen to wear a pelisse trimmed with swansdown that was perhaps a bit small on her but had a more youthful color than her spencers or redingotes.
“Of course. Would you care for a glass of mead? Or a cordial perhaps?”
“Thank you, no. I think, despite our inauspicious beginning, that we deal well with one another. Although our acquaintance has been short, we have been able to speak frankly.”
“That we have, Mrs. Grayson.”
&nb
sp; As she had not yet taken a seat, he remained standing, but she was too anxious to sit. “Perhaps you know why I have come?”
“I take it, it is in regards to your son.”
“He is very much in love with Miss Hartshorn, and I believe she feels the same for him.”
He drew in a long breath. “Yes, that would seem to be the case. And I believe we had discussed how a parent or guardian must sometimes overrule the desires of the young.”
“You are young yet, my lord.”
“But in my capacity as Miss Hartshorn’s guardian, I must assume the mantle of one much older.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Me?”
She nodded.
He seemed skeptical of her question but humored her. “I have had tender feelings for another.”
“Then you understand the pain that can come with that most potent of emotions.”
“Are you saying we should indulge them in this love affair of theirs?”
Taking a fortifying breath, she nodded.
He frowned. “While it may be no small matter for your son—indeed, it is to his advantage—to court Miss Hartshorn, you surely see that it is not in her interest?”
She hesitated before forging ahead. “I think it is in her interest.”
He looked astounded. “Because she is in love? I had not thought you a sentimentalist, Mrs. Grayson.”
“I am not so very, but the children are deeply in love. It is plain to anyone.”
“There are other practical considerations to be had.”
“Our background may be modest and humble, but my son will treat your ward as well as anyone. They may be young, but I have confidence they will survive what hardships may be thrown their way, and especially if they had the support of their family.”
“Of course a mother would see her own son in such favorable light.”
She lifted her chin. “It is true that I am partial, but I am not so naive nor so biased that I would not see his faults. If I had not thought him capable and up to the task of marriage, I would not condone it.”
He raised his brows. “You approve their marrying? They have barely had a courtship.”
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