Chapter Sixteen #2
For nights on end, she had battled her own feelings, trying to convince herself that she was not in love with him.
How could a few kisses make one surrender their heart?
Perhaps this thing that she felt was no more than gratefulness, and she was just mistaking it for something else.
She had nothing to compare it to, only the tingles of excitement she felt whenever she saw him.
The desperation for his kisses whenever he smiled at her.
The pull to be near him whenever possible.
Even when he drove her mad with the stupid things he did or said, she loved him. If only…
The silence must have gotten to the dowager as she said, “Surely it must be sooner rather than later, and we have the opera on Friday. Let me look at our schedule and move things about.”
Tony finally broke eye contact with her and nodded towards his mother. “I will await your answer. If you will excuse me.” He bowed and left the room.
Lucinda watched him leave and took a breath. The intense way he had looked at her had her whole body heating.
“Well,” Tony’s mother said. “That is certainly news I had not expected. I assume you had no idea that Shorten was still alive?”
“I thought that if he had not come to get me then he must certainly be dead.”
“Did he know of you?” Marianne guided her back to a seat.
“I do not know. That is certainly one of the questions I will ask him when I see him. If he did, then I will want to know why he did nothing.”
The day she was to meet her grandfather greeted her with a light drizzle and an overwhelming sense of angst. Staring out the window, she waited for the carriage to pull up in front of the house.
Like an eager child, she checked the time on the mantel clock with such regularity that Marianne commented, “Lucinda, the minutes do not tick by quicker when you constantly check them. Here, have some tea. It will calm your nerves.”
“What if he does not turn up?”
“Then he does not deserve to make your acquaintance.”
“I cannot simply forget he exists.”
“Let us worry about that if he does not arrive. Until then, we must give him the benefit of the doubt.”
Marianne was right. She was always right. What would she do without her? She took the cup of tea and sat, took a sip, and stifled the urge to get up again.
“He will be here. He would not have traveled all the way to London to snub you at the last minute.”
“He could have changed his mind.”
“Have you changed yours?”
“No. Oh, I do not know.”
The faint sound of carriage wheels had her up in a flash and running to the window.
It was indeed a carriage, and the first out was Tony.
He looked up to the window where she stood and gave a little bow before another man emerged from the carriage.
Tony took his arm and guided the elderly man up the steps.
It was him. Her grandfather. Her mother’s father.
She ran back to the sofa and took up her teacup. Marianne laughed at her.
“Remember,” the dowager said. “He is just a man. If things are not going well, you excuse yourself and leave. We will take care of the mess.”
“Oh, lord.” She was feeling lightheaded, like she might just faint. She could hear male voices in the hall. Tony, the duke, and her grandfather.
Marianne took her hand. “All will be well.”
The door opened, and all three women stood, Lucinda still clasping Marianne’s hand. The duke was first in the door. “Ladies, may I present Viscount Shorten.”
A slightly stooped-over man came into the room with a walking stick in one hand.
He did not have to bend much farther to bow, but it seemed to pain him.
Lucinda looked at him and her heart faltered.
There was so much of her mother in this man’s face.
His hair may once have been fair but was now gray with age.
He had large muttonchop sideburns and a full beard.
“Ladies,” he began. “It is a pleasure to meet you all. I think I know which of you is my granddaughter, though.”
Marianne broke her hold and pushed Lucinda forward and whispered, “Curtsey.”
Lucinda took a breath and stepped forward, executing her best curtsey for her grandfather. “It is nice to meet you too.”
The dowager came forward, ever the hostess, and ushered the man to the sofa opposite where Lucinda stood. “Tea?”
The duke took his place by the fire and leaned on the mantel. Tony remained standing, too. He looked her way and winked.
Sitting Lucinda asked, “Lord Shorten, how old was my mother when she…” she wanted to say ran off but settled for, “left.”
The old man accepted a cup of tea from the dowager. “She was just turned ten and eight.”
“So, she still required your permission to marry.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“And my father was a suitable match in all ways except his side of politics?”
“I suppose he was. You must understand that what side a man places his votes on is very important.”
Lucinda looked up to see the duke nodding. She looked back at her grandfather. “More important than the happiness of your daughter?”
“At the time, I thought so. I expected her to obey my commands when it came to her future. I thought I knew best. In hindsight, I realized I was wrong. My daughter was more headstrong than I knew.”
“So, you ran them out of the country?”
“Lucinda,” Tony said, but the viscount waved his objection away.
“It is a fair question. I did not run them out of the country. Foxton, your father, took up a position in first Austria and then Prussia. I had nothing to do with that. I suspect he wanted to get as far away from me as he could. To punish me by taking my daughter away from me.”
“Did you try and reconcile?”
“I did. I have the returned letters here as proof. My daughter wrote to me about her unhappiness living abroad. She was not like Foxton; she was not as self-assured and social, and she lacked the support she was used to.
“I begged her to come home but a letter came back from Foxton to say that Edwina was with child and would not be returning to England. I was devastated.”
“So you did know of me?”
“I knew she had a child but no other information. I had no idea when you were born, where you were born, or your gender. I had no way of contacting her again as they had moved to Prussia by then, not that I knew that until I was informed she had passed away.”
“And you never wondered what had become of me?”
“I wondered all the time. I tried desperately to ask your father to return you to me after your mother was gone but none of my letters got through, or if they did, he did not read them.”
Lucinda studied her grandfather’s face. Sadness etched every line of his face. His dull blue eyes pleaded with her for understanding. Could she believe him? Trust he was telling the truth?
He painted a picture of her father that went against her foggy memories.
She twisted her ring around on her finger; the slightly raised feel of the little flowers and dividers eased her nerves.
Her father had given her this ring, so that she would never forget him, but for years she had wondered why he had made the decisions he had made.
Now she could see he could have sent her to her grandfather instead of some dark and lonely school.
She could have felt loved and wanted. She could have had all she had craved for so long and her father had denied her that.
And for what? A hatred of his father-in-law?
She looked at Tony. He said he could read people, knew when they were lying, and if he believed the old man before her, could she trust his instincts?
“Can you tell me more about my mother? What was she like?”
Lord Shorten smiled and sat back. “She was a precocious child. I adored that about her, and I am ashamed to say she was incredibly spoiled. In retrospect, I should have known she would go and do something impulsive. In many ways she was also na?ve and had trust in everyone. She was shy but seemed to make friends easily. When she loved someone, she did so with all her heart. There could be no half measures for her.”
Tony perched on the side of the sofa closest to Lucinda and said, “Perhaps she thought if she got married without your permission you would come to accept it in time as you usually would.”
The heat of him next to her was comforting, and she resisted the urge to lean her head against him.
“Oh, no doubt. I was determined not to in this instance as I was convinced that Foxton had talked her into it. Sadly, in my attempt to punish Foxton I drove my daughter away. I cannot undo what I did, Lucinda, but know that my heart has been dealt the blow of your mother’s death for many years.
I’m sorry that my actions caused you so much grief as well. ”
“Thank you for telling me about her. I have so many questions, but you look fatigued. Perhaps we can visit again and get to know each other.”
His eyes lit up with hope. “I would like that very much.”
After her grandfather had gone, Tony came up to her and offered her his hand. She took it as he led her out into the garden.
“I am so proud of you.” He kissed the top of her hand. The tingles spread up her arm and made her shiver with delight. She wished he had kissed her on the mouth. Properly.
Shocked, she said, “For not fainting or for speaking my mind?”
He laughed, his summer-blue eyes shining. “Both. I think you have more of your mother in you than you know.”
Did she? “It is strange but my memories of her were always of her in bed, ill with something but I never knew what ailed her. It does not match the woman Lord Shorten described.”
“He remembers her at your age. When she was carefree and reckless.”
“Do you think I am reckless?” She watched Tony closely while he thought about his answer.
“No. Do I think you have the potential to be reckless? Yes.”
His answer pleased her, though she was not sure why. “Thank you, for finding him, for bringing him here. You had no obligation to do so.”
“I did it for you.” His smile made his face even more handsome. He reached out a hand as if he would cup her cheek, but then he let it drop. “Mother thinks Dunstan is very keen on you since he has invited you to the opera. Do you still want him as your husband?”
That was not fair of him to say all these sentences one after the other so that she had no room to react to the first. Lucinda took a seat at the nearest bench. “I think so.” This was becoming all too real. Why was he bringing this up now when he knew her emotions were in turmoil?
“That is not good enough. I need to know before it goes any further.”
“I… what if he doesn’t continue his attentions?”
“Then he is not ready to commit. He will want to weigh up his options carefully. He may want to know your dowry ahead of time. He must weigh up the cost of a wife and all that entails.”
“You make it sound as romantic as buying a horse. Am I nothing but a horse to him?”
Tony sighed. “Lucinda, marriage is more than a ring and a vow in church. It is a legal transaction.”
“I am not to be bought or sold, thank you.”
“You must not think of it as such. Do you like him? Are you happy when you are around him?”
“Yes, he seems very nice but how am I to know for sure?”
“That is what courtship is for. For getting to know each other in a less formal way.”
What did she know of Phillip? Other than he was a good artist and an earl? She knew his mother lived, but nothing else about her. “What if we continue to court and we find we don’t suit? Are we obligated to marry?”
“Of course not. You may cry off if you are not happy, and it is better to do so as soon as you realize it. Before an engagement takes place.”
“That is a comfort.”
“There are no others you are interested in?”
She desperately tried to keep her face neutral as she told her lie. “No. There are no others.”
“Right. I will be prepared in case he asks to know more about your dowry.”
“Do you like him?”
“It doesn’t matter if I like him.”
“It matters to me.”
“I have found nothing about him that presents any suspicion. Not at the moment at least.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“He seems nice enough, is not dumb as a stick, he has a suitable hobby and a good income. What is not to like in a prospective suitor?”
“Tony. I need your honest opinion.”
He sat down next to her and studied her face. “He seems to be holding back. It doesn’t sit right with me. He acts like a man ready for marriage, but something tells me he is not ready. I can’t put my finger on it, but something is off.”
“Then perhaps I should wait.”
He stood then, the study of ease, but Lucinda knew he was anything but calm.
“No. I think you should continue to court,” he said. “I have become jaded over the years and my opinion should not sway you. You need to make up your own mind. If your senses tell you he is the one, I will not stand in your way.”
“If you were to choose someone for me, who would it be?”
He balled his hands into fists. “You cannot ask me that.”
“Why not? Surely, you know who the best candidates are?”
“Because you will not like the answer!” His tone was harsh, and she shrank back, shocked.
“Good lord, Tony. I am more confused now than when this conversation started. Is this why Marianne is still unwed? Can you find no man who is suitable for her either?”
“This has nothing to do with Marianne.”
“Fine.” She rose from her seat and placed her hand on his chest to calm him, but he grabbed it and pushed it aside. “I don’t understand why you are so angry with me all of a sudden?”
“I am not mad at you. I just… cannot have your hands on me right now.”
She was taken aback, disappointment running through her like a black poison. “Do I repulse you, sir?”
He shook his head, his expression melancholy. “On the contrary, Miss Sterling.”
“Oh.”
He turned on his heel to leave.
“Wait! Stay.” It was a pathetic plea, even to her own ears.
He stopped mid-stride, looking back over his shoulder at her. “I wish I could,” was all he said before striding out of the garden.
Lucinda sat heavily back on the bench, hand on her heart. On the contrary.