Chapter Seventeen
Lelander spent a very uncomfortable week going back and forth with his father, sending notes over to Burkhart, only to receive a note back that the fellow was spending an uncomfortable time with his own father.
Both senior gentlemen began the thing wildly against any sort of peace treaty between their two houses.
Viscount Pepperdon claimed he could not consider it because it was a family tradition.
Was he really to take a step that would fly in the face of his father, his grandfather, his great-grandfather, and on and on. So many great-great-greats.
Lord Burkhart’s father was equally wildly against any sort of peace treaty as it would be the final surrender. There could not be a surrender, as the Yorks had been robbed of the throne. Or as he put it, “Those Lancastrians did not just steal a bag of flour!”
Both he and Burkhart had been forced to move on to phase two of the plan.
They would threaten to set out to earn their keep elsewhere.
Lelander was to go to Manchester to work in a factory.
He claimed he would marry there. He would shoot for an actress, as their hands would be better kept.
However, an actress might not find him attractive in his reduced circumstances.
If that did not pan out, he’d probably end up wedding a girl who sold pies on the road.
Or something like that. He could not remain at Pepperdon Hall, forever being reminded of what could have been.
This story had the greatest effect on his mother. Fortunately, things that had a great effect on his mother inevitably began to have an effect on his father.
Burkhart told his own story of going to work on a farm somewhere.
Once he grew used to being a laborer, he imagined the farmer’s daughter would begin to look attractive.
He would eventually inherit the farmer’s little patch and forget all about being an earl’s son.
It was not the life he had thought he was destined for, but what matter if he could not have his heart’s desire?
He could not bear to stay in Westport House, forever reminded of what could have been.
Burkhart had overheard his mother talking to her lady’s maid. Her view was that her son would not wish to work as a laborer, but he would do it out of spite. That caused the lady to begin working on her husband.
Once the idea that there might be a treaty to be had was actually agreed to, there were new arguments on hand.
Every point was argued over. Both gentlemen wished for cross-outs and additions. It turned out to be very wise that he and Burkhart had agreed from the beginning that the treaty stood as it was and could not be altered or amended.
Both fathers had endless complaints about it.
Lelander and Burkhart were forced to pack their bags and pretend they were off to Manchester and a farm somewhere, respectively. According to Burkhart, he’d even got as far as the front doors before the earl gave in.
In the end, both old soldiers begrudgingly signed it.
The factors that had eventually worn them down were: One, the ladies came from a suitable background.
Two, the ladies each came with ten thousand.
And three, they were both convinced that their only sons would venture out into the world.
That, in itself, would be the talk of the neighborhood.
Further, anything could happen to them while they committed such a folly.
The viscount had a brother who would inherit if Lelander perished. The earl had a cousin who would do the same. Neither were well-liked.
The viscountess had sealed it with his father by saying, “Do not cut off your nose to spite your face. That is the sort of foolishness that people will talk about forever. Also, I will be unhappy for the rest of my life.”
Lelander had written Burkhart that he had a signed treaty in hand. Burkhart had written back that he had the same. They had determined to set off the following day. There was no time to lose.
Unlike their other journeys, their carriages traveled together and they stayed at the same inns.
It would be necessary to present their treaties together, one signed by the viscount, and one by the earl, to demonstrate to the ladies that they could make free between the two houses. One was not good without the other.
The traveling had been an anxious time. Lelander felt as if he could not get there fast enough.
There was no telling what had transpired after he’d gone.
There was no telling what other gentlemen might be turning up to try their luck.
As the ladies did not know why they went, they did not know that he and Burkhart were coming back.
The best he could hope for was that at least the viscountess knew the truth of it.
But who really knew? They’d left the viscount in charge of things and that gentleman might have forgotten they were ever there at all.
Several times while he’d been in the house, the viscount would enter a room, spot he or Burkhart, and there had been this passing look of confusion as if he could not recollect who they were.
Then it would seem to come to him and he would nod.
At the various inns where they stopped, he and Burkhart dined together.
It was not because they wished to, but they had both seen the sense of growing used to one another’s presence.
If they were successful in their suits, they would be thrown together at times.
They would be at the same table. They would be responsible for leading their respective fathers forward in courtesy and sense.
They could not argue between them or the treaty and the trouble of getting it had been pointless.
And then there was Christmas to think of. Lord Mulholland had insisted on adding that addition to the treaty. Miss Poppy was determined that cousins must be close.
Like it or not, Burkhart was to become a regular acquaintance, just like any other gentleman he knew. It was a disturbing thought. He knew it to be necessary, but it did feel unnatural. However, Miss Poppy Granger was worth it. More than worth it.
Finally, they were well past Oxford. They would soon arrive to Chemsworth Hall. It was dark already but they’d decided to push on, counting on any troublemakers on the road to avoid two carriages traveling together as too much to take on.
Now he only need pray to be forgiven for setting off so rudely, present the treaty, and ask the question.
Poppy stared at Mr. Wilderman the elder. They were at dinner and the fellow had just told a longwinded story about how he and his brother had once told their father they were thinking of becoming Catholics. If they really enjoyed it, they might look into the priesthood.
“My father said he would lock us up in our rooms until we got such a bizarre notion out of our heads,” Mr. James Wilderman said. “He was planning to call in the doctor to see if we were ill.”
“Then we revealed that it was all a jest!” Mr. William Wilderman said. “He shook his fist at us and we just laughed and laughed.”
These two gentlemen were insufferable.
While the viscount had seemed initially amused by the Wilderman brothers, now he looked at them as if they had two heads each. It was to be expected. The viscount would hardly have laughed and laughed if Henry had announced such a plan. And then claimed it was a hilarious jest.
Of all of them, Maribelle seemed the least able to cover her irritation dashed with a soupcon of bewilderment. She pursed her lips and gravely nodded at Teddy as if to advise him not to emulate those two gentlemen. Ever. In anything.
Smuckers had been frowning as well. Very suddenly, his attention was taken by Johnny, who had just hurried into the room at an untoward speed. He whispered into Smuckers’ ear.
Poppy heard Smuckers say, “Are you certain?”
Johnny nodded vigorously.
Smuckers cleared his throat. “My lord, excuse the interruption. Johnny reports that there are two carriages coming up the drive.”
“Ah, that must be them,” the viscount said, not at all seeming surprised.
“Who is them, Papa?” Poppy asked.
“Indeed, my love,” the viscountess said, “I was not aware that we expected anybody. Is it Marigold? There are not even places set.”
“Marigold? No. It’s those young gentlemen from the north. They did say they would be back.”
“Papa,” Pansy said, “Lord Burkhart and Mr. Lelander said they would like to come back, as one does as a polite thing to say. They claimed they would like to return for the fine hospitality. Nobody has labored under the illusion that they actually would come back.”
The viscount shrugged. “I thought they would come back. You’ve got to take a man at his word, in my view.”
“Lord Mulholland,” Lord Smythesdon said, “do you perhaps know more about this than you have said?”
“Well, you know how young gentlemen are,” the viscount said.
Did they know how young gentlemen were? Was it possible the two carriages were bringing back Mr. Lelander and Lord Burkhart?
If they were coming back, why hadn’t they said?
Or said more directly than complimenting the hospitality of the house?
For that matter, if their father had been sure they would be back, why hadn’t he said?
He had said, but he might have said it more forcefully! Or more directly!
Poppy and Pansy jumped up at the same time. Whatever was happening, whoever was in those two carriages, they would find it out.
For reasons unknown to Poppy, the Wilderman brothers jumped up too. The eldest said, “I do not understand what the game is, but it seems the game is on!”
Teddy and Bertie might have followed suit had not their respective mothers directed them to sit down.
As they raced to the front hall, Poppy said, “Pans, could it really be them?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But we did find it impossible that they’d left.”
The carriages approached closer. Behind her, Mr. James Wilder said, “What a mystery! Who is it? This is great fun.”