Chapter Five
London
Jacob had expected to see Miss Whitmore again before she left Henry’s estate, but mother and daughter were gone by the time he’d finished his breakfast.
He was sure such a breach of etiquette was of no consequence. She was an unusual woman who cared nothing for convention, and such peculiarities would no doubt continue to reveal themselves as their so-called courtship continued.
Now he was back in London, he needed to make this arrangement formal, or rather, give it the appearance of formality. To that end, his first duty was to visit Miss Whitmore’s father and ask for his daughter’s hand.
He arrived at the Whitmore’s Kensington household certain it would be a quick visit, a shake of the hand and then he would be off. The footman ushered him into the father’s study, where he surprisingly found both father and daughter waiting for him.
Again, he decided to put no stock in this additional breach of the usual protocol. He already knew Miss Whitmore was somewhat unconventional, which was another reason why she was his ideal co-conspirator.
Mr Whitmore emerged from behind his desk and indicated for Jacob to take one of the deep leather buttoned armchairs. He sat in the one beside Miss Whitmore, sent her a quick smile, which wasn’t returned, while Mr Whitmore took the chair facing the couple.
The older man stared at Jacob over his half-moon glasses, like a judge considering how harshly he should sentence the recalcitrant in the dock.
‘My wife tells me you proposed to my daughter after having known her for no more than a few days,’ he finally said.
‘That’s correct, sir. We both knew it was what we wanted.’ Jacob resisted pulling at his stiff collar to relieve the discomfort caused by the older man’s unflinching stare.
‘Is that correct, Margaret?’ he asked, turning to his daughter.
‘Yes, Father. More or less.’
Jacob doubted he had ever seen a woman who looked less in love. On the night of the ball her demeanour had been delightfully light-hearted, but now those brows were once again drawn together and her lips were tightly pursed, just as they had been when he proposed.
The father waited for his daughter to explain further.
‘It’s an arrangement,’ she said on a sigh, shocking Jacob with her honesty, but causing the father to nod as if he’d suspected that all along. ‘We’re not in love but this suits us both.’
‘That is unfortunate,’ the father said, causing Jacob’s heart to sink. Why couldn’t she have just used the same line he’d used, about Cupid and his arrow? ‘But you would not be the first couple to marry for reasons other than love, although a love match was what I had hoped for you, Margaret.’
He looked at Jacob, who did not know what to say. Miss Whitmore had already informed her father that there was no love between them; to claim otherwise would be foolhardy.
‘I do, however, have the greatest respect for your daughter,’ he said instead, hoping that would suffice. He waited, like the awkward suitor he now appeared to be, for the older man’s response.
Mr Whitmore finally nodded, still staring at Jacob as if trying to figure him out. ‘So why did you choose to make this arrangement with my daughter and not some other young lady?’ It was the same question Henry had asked, albeit in less crude terms, but he had not expected it from her father.
‘Because, as I said, I respect your daughter. I also admire her,’ Jacob said, scrambling for words. ‘She is intelligent, talented and has a marvellous sense of humour.’
Father and daughter exchanged raised-eyebrow looks as if unsure what he was talking about.
‘You should see the cartoon she drew of Henry’s weekend party,’ he continued. ‘It was hilarious, worthy of publication in Punch.’ He looked from father to daughter, neither of whom appeared impressed by his declaration, and an uncomfortable silence descended on the group.
‘You wish to marry my daughter because her cartoon made you laugh?’ the father finally said.
‘There are worse reasons to marry,’ Jacob mumbled, wondering why he was having to defend himself. Had they forgotten he was a duke?
‘Hmm,’ was the father’s non-committal response, before he turned to his daughter.
‘So, Margaret, why do you want to marry this man?’ He looked Jacob up and down and frowned as if he personally could see no logical reason, then turned back to his daughter.
‘Are you entering into this arrangement freely? Or are you being put under pressure, say, from your mother?’
Miss Whitmore sighed again, and they both waited for her response. Jacob had assumed this whole thing would be quickly settled and this meeting was simply a formality, but it seemed with Miss Whitmore, it was best to assume nothing.
‘Mother is ecstatic, as expected, but no, I have not succumbed to any pressure. I am entering this arrangement for my own reasons and of my own volition.’
Mr Whitmore nodded slowly. ‘Then I suppose I have no option but to agree.’
Finally. Was that so difficult?
Jacob placed his hands on the arms of the chair, but was halted from rising and taking his leave by the father, staring him firmly in the eye.
‘I am willing to agree to this arrangement, but there is something I want you to never forget. I love my daughter more than life itself. You will treat her with the utmost respect at all times or else I will do whatever it takes to ruin you, even if I ruin myself in the process.’
Jacob was somewhat taken aback by the strength of the man’s assertion but nodded his agreement.
‘I don’t wish to spell it out in front of my daughter,’ the older man continued. ‘But I read the newspapers, and I do not want to read anything that in any way reflects badly on Margaret, nor do I want to see your name mentioned in any scurrilous publications.’
Again, Jacob nodded. Staying out of the scurrilous publications was what this arrangement was all about.
‘And it would be best not to mention that this marriage is an arrangement that has nothing to do with love when talking to my wife,’ Mr Whitmore added in a slightly more conciliatory tone. ‘She has always been, and remains, a hopeless romantic. Let us not ruin her happiness.’
‘Of course,’ Jacob said. ‘Now that I have your…’ he paused; blessing was perhaps not quite the right word ‘…your consent, can I assume you will soon place an announcement in The Times?’
And as soon as possible, so I can avoid being hauled into the divorce courts, he could add, but suspected that would not go down well with a man who had just threatened to ruin him at the first sign of any scandalous behaviour.
Father and daughter gave matching nods, making it apparent that the conversation was at an end. So, with that, he said goodbye and departed from a meeting that had been nothing like what he’d imagined.
If he had chosen any of the other debutantes at Henry’s weekend party he was certain to have been greeted by a deferential father, eager to give his blessing, overwhelmed with joy at the prospect of his daughter becoming a duchess and elevating the family’s status in Society.
But if that had happened this morning, right now he would be feeling like a charlatan who was deceiving his intended’s parents, even if it was for a good cause.
Perhaps it was all for the best that the father possessed the same forthright manner as the daughter.
And there was no doubt that he had just witnessed a close relationship between the two, one based on mutual respect and genuine affection.
As he entered his carriage and signalled for the driver to take him home, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have two parents who cared about you so much.
One showed her love in her desperate and misguided attempts to find her daughter a husband.
The other was prepared to threaten a duke and sacrifice himself in order to protect her.
Jacob doubted if parents more different from his own would be possible to find.
While the carriage rolled through the leafy streets back to his Mayfair townhouse, he continued to muse on that strange encounter and the mystery that was life in a happy family.
Would he be a different person if he’d had parents who had loved him the way Miss Whitmore’s parents loved their daughter?
And what kind of man would he be? A respectable man?
A family man? One who really was capable of falling in love?
One who really did want to settle down with one woman for the rest of his life?
That was impossible to imagine and as there was no way he would ever know, there surely was no point even speculating over a question that had no answer.
Once home, he roamed around the house, wondering what he was to do now.
How did engaged men occupy their time? All those of Jacob’s acquaintance continued to live the same way they always had—a life that involved constant parties and a non-stop round of pleasure—and that did not come to an end after they married.
Nor did they cease keeping company with their mistress or mistresses.
But those engaged men did not have a future father-in-law who had threatened to ruin them no matter what the cost. Perhaps he should have thought this through a bit more and selected a woman whose father didn’t care how he behaved.
Perhaps a father who was blinded by his title would have served his purpose much better after all.
But how was he to know that Miss Whitmore’s father loved his daughter quite so fervently?
Such familial love was not something with which he was acquainted.
But it was too late for that now and he would have to find a respectable way to pass the time for the duration of this engagement. But how? He supposed going to his clubs would still be acceptable, but what fun would that be if he could not go on to a party afterwards?