Chapter Nineteen
As Benchley dressed him for the evening, Con reflected upon the proposal they had all witnessed that afternoon. He had seen the joy on both Lord Howell’s and Lady Sarah’s faces. He wanted that for himself.
With Rowena . . .
He thought now the dominoes might begin to fall with this betrothal.
From what Lord Samuel had shared with him, Con believed his new friend would soon ask Miss Tweedham to be his wife.
Whether the other two gentlemen attending the house party decided to make offers of marriage was yet to be seen.
He wanted to do so himself desperately, but instinct told him Rowena would turn him down.
Perhaps she was so practical and intellectual that the aspect of love did not enter her sphere of thinking. If he appealed to her more rational nature, he might have a better chance in securing a positive response from her.
But would his loving her be enough for a successful marriage?
“You seem quite pensive this evening, my lord,” his valet noted.
“I am thinking over how Lord Howell asked Lady Sarah to be his wife at tea today.”
Benchley beamed. “That is very good news indeed. It will be celebrated in the servants’ hall.
Lord Howell’s valet is a jovial sort, and Lady Sarah’s maid has had high hopes for her mistress to make a match at this house party.
” Hesitating a moment, the valet then asked, “Might I inquire how things fare for you, my lord? I know you came to this house party specifically for one particular lady. Is it Miss Stanhope?”
“It is,” he confirmed. Shaking his head, he added, “I haven’t a clue where I stand with her.”
“I would think it would be simple enough, my lord. Speak to her from your heart.”
“I appreciate your advice, Benchley, but Miss Stanhope is quite the intellectual. Her head would make any decision regarding her future. Not her heart.”
The valet smiled mysteriously. “Then perhaps that is something you need to change, my lord.”
Not only was Benchley’s advice what Con needed to hear, but it made Con wonder what the valet had experienced in his past to share that nugget of wisdom.
Benchley finished tying Con’s cravat and helped him slip into his coat. Since it was still early, he made his way down to the library, where he found Viscount Samuel pacing, mumbling to himself.
“Forgive me, my lord. I do not mean to interrupt you.”
“No, do not leave, Marley. Stay. I could use a friend to talk with now.”
They took a seat opposite one another, and Con asked, “Is this about Miss Tweedham? Are you ready to offer for her?”
“I am. I want to do so, and yet I am terrified. My future will be decided in a single moment. What if she says no?”
“I have watched the two of you together, my lord, and I believe Miss Tweedham will respond in the affirmative.”
“I do not think I can do what Howell did. Ask her in front of an entire group of people.”
“Most gentlemen do so in private,” he agreed. “I think Lord Howell simply knew his own mind. His daughter is quite important to him, and he wished to have her a part of the proceedings. It was convenient to make his offer with us taking tea at Meadowbrook. All the parts came together.”
“They already looked like a family, didn’t they?” asked the viscount.
“They truly did. I am happy for them. Lady Sarah will be an excellent mother to Mary.”
“You do not think anyone else is interested in Miss Tweedham, do you?” Lord Samuel asked, worry on his face.
“No. Everyone has seen the two of you together. No gentleman would speak before you do,” he assured Samuel.
“You are good to reassure me, my lord. I wish I could do the same for you. I brought up your name to Rowena.”
His heart skipped a beat. “And?”
“I do not think she understands the depth of your feelings. In fact, my cousin seemed quite dismissive of the idea that you might even be interested in her.”
Con blamed the ton. Rowena had been out three Seasons without any offers.
Members of Polite Society did not take kindly to anyone—especially a woman—who marched to a different step than others.
Being a bluestocking, Rowena had met with disapproval from the beginning.
He realized the ton had poisoned her, making her think little of herself because they cruelly did so.
He would need to help rebuild her confidence in herself before he could even think to speak his mind to her and let her know the depth of his feelings.
But could he do so in the little time left at Pebblestone?
“We should go to the drawing room,” he told Lord Samuel. Placing a hand on the viscount’s shoulder, he squeezed it reassuringly. “You will know when the time is right to speak with Miss Tweedham. I have faith in you.”
“Thank you,” Lord Samuel said sincerely. “I appreciate our new friendship.”
They joined the others who had already gathered in the drawing room.
Rowena was not amongst their number, but she did come in a few minutes later with Miss Tweedham, whose eyes immediately sought Lord Samuel.
His friend headed toward the pair, and Con moved toward them as well, hoping to bolster the viscount’s confidence.
“Good evening, ladies,” he greeted. “I wonder what is planned for this evening’s entertainment.”
“I would not mind hearing Miss Lawson play again,” Miss Tweedham said. “And you, too, Miss Stanhope.”
“I cannot compare to Miss Lawson. She could play professionally, while the best I can do is hope to entertain a few guests in a country drawing room.”
Con did not like how she seemed to put herself down and spoke up.
“While Miss Lawson plays with skill, you also have an affinity for the pianoforte,” he insisted. “I think you play beautifully and would enjoy hearing you do so again.”
A blush spilled across her cheeks at his compliment. “Perhaps sometime during the remainder of the house party, I will be asked to play again.”
Their conversation turned to the ride they had participated in this afternoon and the two estates they had seen. Lord Samuel mentioned a few things he and his steward had begun on his estate, and Con listened eagerly, always looking for something new to try at Marleyfield.
They were called in to dinner, and he found himself seated next to Miss Lawson. He had watched her timidity change over the course of the last few days. She was no longer a turtle who remained inside her shell, only popping out upon occasion.
“It seems this house party has done wonders for you, Miss Lawson,” he observed.
“I have always been painfully shy, Lord Marley, so much so that I asked to postpone my come-out this past Season. The thought of being surrounded by dozens—if not hundreds—of others was simply too much to fathom. I am a simple country girl who has no experience in life and cannot make conversation easily.”
“I beg to differ. I think anyone present at the table this evening would say you are a fine conversationalist, Miss Lawson.”
“I have Miss Stanhope to thank. She approached me that very first day, making me feel so welcome. She introduced me to others and let me know she was my friend from the beginning. Because of that, it liberated me from the shadows I had kept to. I owe Miss Stanhope a great deal.”
“Miss Stanhope always thinks of others. I am glad she was able to help you ease into Polite Society.”
“It might have been different if I had siblings, but I have been alone most of my life. My mother passed when I was very young, and I do not recall anything about her. Papa is kind but distant. My governess has been my constant companion. She was the one who taught me how to play the pianoforte.”
“You do so beautifully, my lady. We have spoken of how we hope to hear you play again.”
Dinner concluded, and Lady Pebble told them there would be dancing this evening.
That seemed to perk up everyone at the table, and Con couldn’t help but glance down to Miss Stanhope, thinking of their single dance together.
Her gaze met his, and he believed she thought of the same thing.
At least now they had an opportunity to dance together again.
They adjourned to the drawing room, where servants had pushed back the furniture to the walls, allowing ample room for them to dance.
Then Miss Tweedham said, “We might try to dance some on the terrace. We could open the doors and still hear the music outside.”
“Is it too cold to do so?” Lady Pebble asked.
“We shall see,” Lord Pebble responded, opening a pair of French doors and stepping outside. He returned, saying, “The evening air is a bit cool, but dancing is such an active pastime. I think everyone would be comfortable dancing outside.”
“Why don’t we begin inside and warm up a bit?” Miss Lawson suggested. “Then we might move to the terrace.”
Just then, Lady Sarah and Baron Howell entered the drawing room, and all thoughts of dancing were paused. The couple was roundly congratulated by all present, including Lord and Lady Pebble, who were seeing the couple for the first time since their betrothal occurred.
Lady Pebble pressed her cheek to Lady Sarah’s. “Oh, my dear, Lord Pebble and I are delighted to hear of your engagement. When might the wedding take place?”
Lady Sarah looked to her fiancé, who said, “I have already sent word to the vicar to begin the reading of the banns on Sunday. Lady Sarah and I will wed in the Mossleigh parish church in three weeks after the banns are completed.”
Viscount Samuel blurted out, “I wish to wed there, as well. With Miss Tweedham.” He turned to her and clasped her hands in his. “I know I am mucking this up badly, but I can stay silent no longer. Miss Tweedham, you would make me the happiest of men if you would agree to wed me.”
Con had never seen a more genuine smile than the one Miss Tweedham bestowed upon Lord Samuel.
“Yes, my lord. Yes. I would be honored to become your wife.”
“I do not mean to rush you, my lady,” the viscount told his new fiancée. “And we do not have to wed at Mossleigh. The ceremony can take place whenever you wish. Wherever you wish. I am simply humbled that you have agreed to become my wife.”
More congratulations were offered, and Lord Pebble signaled to his butler. Soon, champagne flutes were passed out to the guests, and Lady Pebble’s eternal bell tinkled again.
They grew quiet as Lord Pebble said, “I am most pleased to celebrate the two betrothals which have occurred at our house party. It will be wonderful to add Lady Sarah and Miss Tweedham as neighbors. Here is to a long and happy marriage for both these couples.”
The group raised their flutes, and Con downed his champagne quickly. He thought if Miss Stanhope saw how happy her two friends were that she, too, might be willing to risk a chance at happiness herself.
“Let us dance!” exclaimed Lady Pebble. “And who knows? More betrothals may be yet to come.”
“I shall play for the dancing,” Miss Stanhope volunteered, causing his spirits to sink.
Thankfully, Miss Bailey stepped in. “You young people should be the ones dancing, Miss Stanhope. I am more than happy to play while everyone dances.”
The two betrothed couples headed out onto the terrace, and Con went to Miss Stanhope.
“Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, my lady?”
She gave him a strained smile, no enthusiasm evident. “Yes, my lord.”
He took her hand and placed it on his sleeve, feeling her tremble slightly. He escorted them out the doors. Moments later, Miss Bailey began to play. Everyone’s spirits seemed lighthearted as they danced.
Except for his and Miss Stanhope’s.
And Con hadn’t a clue how to change things between them.