Chapter Seventeen #2
“That’s good thinking.” For a second he looked at her, in a way that told her he wasn’t going to agree, and she wasn’t going to like the reason for that. “Perhaps we could do that tomorrow, Rebecca. Today we’re going to a luncheon.”
“You and me, ‘we’?”
“Yes.”
She lifted an eyebrow the way he did when he was skeptical about something. “Where are we going to luncheon? To Grove House, I hope, with Eddie and Mrs. Silbern.”
“No, we’re going to Bursk House.”
“Grandmother’s house?” Rebecca slumped onto the couch.
“She always follows me about, pointing out everything I’m not allowed to touch.
” Her grandmother, the dowager marchioness, also treated her like she was a rabid dog, offering her treats but making sure their hands didn’t touch, and never turning her back.
“She does the same thing to me.” He set the newspaper aside. “We owe Pauline a nice meal without squirrels, Cricket. This will be it.”
“Lady Pauline will be there, too?”
“Yes.”
Stifling a sigh, Rebecca scooted forward. Clearly there was something she wasn’t understanding about Papa and Lady Pauline. “Is she perfect for you?”
“If I’m to remarry, I would like it to be to someone who is patient, proper, has common sense, and who can be a good guide for you as you get older. Given those requirements, I suppose that yes, she is perfect for me.”
“Are you going to have more children?”
“I’ve done everything I can to ensure that you will have a comfortable life whether you ever marry or not, Rebecca, but you can’t inherit my title or most of my properties.
Those will go to my second cousin, Percival, if I don’t have a son.
If you have a brother, I am hoping you will be able to live in whichever of my properties you choose, for as long as you wish.
A son is the only way I can assure that.
” He tilted his head. “But we have had this conversation before, even if it ended with you telling me you would rather have a pony.”
“I remember that.” She smiled. “I was little then.”
“You’d like having a younger sister or brother, wouldn’t you?”
This was complicated. She wanted an older brother, but if she said that, her father would know exactly what was going on.
If that happened, Papa would think she was being selfish, and then boarding school.
“I wouldn’t mind a bigger family, I suppose, if we can all have fun and laugh together like we do with the Silberns. It’s been spectacular.”
He grinned. “Yes, it has been.”
“Do you think we could have Mrs. Silbern and Eddie come holiday with us after the Season? I told Eddie about our pond, and now he wants to learn how to punt.”
His smile slipped just a little, but enough so she could see it. “We’ll invite them, certainly,” he said. “But Mrs. Silbern is likely getting married, as well, and she’ll be with her husband.”
“The Duke of Trent?” She made a face. “Are they going to kiss?”
“That, Cricket, is none of our affair.” He stood up and straightened his coat. “I’ve some correspondence this morning. You have mathematics with Mrs. Brubbins. Please stay in the house, and we’ll be leaving here at half twelve.” With that he headed for his study.
Was it good that he didn’t want to talk about Mrs. Silbern and kissing? Or did that make him think about Lady Pauline and kissing? Sometimes adults made no sense at all, and trying to get them to do the correct thing was exhausting.
“Brubbie, I need to talk to Eddie,” she said, standing.
Her governess, who’d taken a seat in the corner of the room, rose as well.
“Be cautious, Lady Becks,” she said. “You want what’s best for you and Master Eddie, which I understand, but your father wants what’s best for everyone.
As he doesn’t know all the details you’ve forbidden me to tell him, he’s doing the best he can. ”
“I know that. It’s difficult, making certain he falls in love with Mrs. Silbern. He needs to have someone.”
“Keep that in mind, child.”
They reached Bursk House at exactly one o’clock.
Rebecca agreed with the grandfather clock at her grandmother’s house about that, but there was definitely something wrong with the big old wooden thing.
At least four or five hours had passed since then, but it had only chimed the hour twice.
They’d been sitting in the small dining room, possibly for days, talking about things that made her want to go dig a tunnel in the garden.
That would make her grandmother turn into a dragon, which would at least be interesting—except for her fiery breath, of course.
Her papa said Grandmama Georgiana was a dragon all the time, just wearing a people mask, and Rebecca frequently imagined her like that, with long claws and sharp teeth and blowing fire.
Really, the worst thing and the best thing about this luncheon was how very dull it was.
She’d had several luncheons with Eddie and Mrs. Silbern and her papa, and they were much more fun.
Even Papa had to have noticed the difference, because good heavens, she could barely keep her eyes open.
At least Lady Pauline had to keep her tongue civil with other people about, but several times Rebecca caught her glaring when the others were distracted.
Most people liked her; she tried to always be polite and friendly, and she knew to treat servants with the same consideration as their employers.
She liked when she made people laugh or smile.
This was the first time she’d met someone who didn’t like her.
At all. She didn’t know why, even, except for Lady Pauline blaming her for Papa not being happy.
Finally, Papa put his napkin on the table. “Thank you for an afternoon, Mother,” he said, standing, and Rebecca did the same. “Pauline, thank you for again accepting our apologies. I’ll see you at the Paskill soiree this evening, yes?”
Masquerade put out a hand, gripping his fingers. “I will be there, darling.”
He nodded. “Shall we go, Cricket?”
“Yes, please.”
“You should at least pretend reluctance to leave your luncheon companions, Rebecca,” Grandmama Whiskers said, adding sugar to her tea.
“Yes, but I’ve taught her not to lie, Mother. I enjoyed two-thirds of the company today, myself.” He gestured Rebecca to go in front of him out the door.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lady Pauline start to stand up and then Grandmama Georgiana motion her to sit down again. They were going to talk about something. Quickly Rebecca kicked off her shoes in a corner of the hallway, then followed her papa to the foyer.
“We may be able to get in a bit of kite flying, after all,” he said, nodding at Coleman as the butler pulled open the door for them.
Rebecca stepped out the door, then jumped. “Oh no.”
“What, Cricket?”
“I forgot my shoes.”
Her father lifted an eyebrow, his mouth curving in amusement. “How did that happen?”
“I let them fall off while we were eating. I’ll be just a moment.”
“Oh, I’m not leaving without you. The Dragon will have you speaking French and playing the concertina within an hour.”
Snorting, she pranced back into the house. Then, tiptoeing, she retrieved her shoes and stopped just outside the small dining room. Someone set down a teacup, and it sounded like one of the footmen had begun clearing the table. Had she missed it?
“I do understand, my dear,” her grandmother said into the silence.
“Of course it would be simpler if Beckett were childless. Unfortunately, he isn’t, and Rebecca figures into his plans.
Luckily, she is an age where sending her off to boarding school wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.
In fact, most would commend you for clearing the house before you begin your own family. ”
“That’s not the sticking point any longer, my lady,” Masquerade said back to her.
“I can manage a little girl. It’s been weeks.
I nearly drew him into it yesterday, but then the squirrels attacked.
It won’t be nearly as simple a matter to coax him into proposing now.
He wants it to be his idea, and he won’t be led to it again. ”
“He’s cautious; I told you that. He doesn’t want a repeat of Lydia and her hand-flapping foolishness.”
Well, that was mean. Rebecca knew from the stories Papa told that her mother had a very good imagination, that that was where her own came from. There was no need to make fun of imaginations.
“I understand that. But he continues to come up with … not excuses, but self-deprecating comments that equate to him needing more time. You gave me assurances, my lady. I am staking my reputation and my future on this match. If I end my sixth Season unbetrothed, I will not find another gentleman waiting to call on me, for heaven’s sake. ”
Grandmama sighed. “This is the problem in dealing with a man of principle. Well. We need to make certain he has no choice then, don’t we?
If it’s the only way I can be assured of having a grandson and you a title, then we must make certain the two of you are found together in a compromising situation. ”
“I … I’d contemplated that, but he’s quite careful about my reputation.”
“It will need to seem like passion got the best of you. A mad kiss, or whatever you can manage.”
“Soon. My grandfather has given me one more week, or he’ll simply post a full-page announcement of our engagement in the newspaper. That could create some … animosity between Beckett and myself, and I would like to avoid that if possible.”
“It’s good having the Duke of Milton as an ally. I’ll host a house party. He may dislike me, but if you attend, he can’t very well refuse. A party will ensure we—you—have witnesses. Do it then. After weeks of acquaintance, it’s believable the two of you could be caught up in passion.”
Rebecca almost forgot to back away when she heard a chair scrape against the floor. Oh no. A party at her grandmother’s house would make her papa a fly in the spider’s web. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she ran on her toes for the foyer and then leaped out the front door and into the coach.
“That took a moment.” Her papa pretended to wake up on his seat and stretched.
“I didn’t want Grandmama to see me crawling under the table and tell me how unladylike I am,” she said, putting on her shoes and then sitting back into the corner of the coach. She needed to think. And she needed to talk to Eddie, and the rest of the Biscuits. They’d just run out of time.