23. One Couple, One Hope for the Future
Chapter Twenty-Three
One Couple, One Hope for the Future
Meanwhile, at Buxton House
With one arm behind his head and the other wrapped around Eliza’s shoulders, Cornelius heaved a happy sigh.
Stretched out beneath the bed linens in the mistress suite of Buxton House, he was still recovering from a spirited round of lovemaking with the war widow.
His gaze was on the gathered rose velvet that formed the canopy above Eliza’s bed while he wished they were in his bed back at Kingston House.
His bed was larger and his bed chamber warmer.
“Was that a sigh of relief or…?” Eliza whispered, lifting her head from where it had been resting in the small of his shoulder.
“Satisfaction, of course,” he replied, tightening his hold on her upper arm as if to emphasize his claim.
He turned his head and placed a kiss on the top of hers.
“Not only because you’re such a wonderful bedmate…
” He kissed her forehead. “I expect we shall have word of an impending wedding any day now.”
Eliza gave a start. “Ours, do you mean?” she asked, hope sounding in her voice.
Chuckling softly, he said, “Catherine’s, actually. Seems the matchmaker is making good on her promise my daughter be wed by year-end. We might even enjoy a Christmas wedding.”
Inhaling sharply, Eliza lifted herself onto an elbow and stared at him. “The matchmaker?” she repeated in surprise.
He nodded in the pillow. “I spoke with Mrs. Dove-Lyon only yesterday afternoon. I’m told they apparently met two evenings ago and had made arrangements to meet again last night. The gentleman fetched her from her place of employment, which is why my coach was available for us to use last night.”
Eliza stared at Cornelius, and then blinked several times. “Are you referring to Mrs. Dove-Lyon?” At his sound of affirmation, she sat up straighter. “But… when I gave Cathy the calling card a few days, she barely looked at it. She practically refused to take it,” she claimed.
Cornelius grinned. “Catherine wasn’t the one who made the arrangements with Mrs. Dove-Lyon,” he replied, as he attempted to pull her back down to his body.
Eliza was slow to comply, a fold appearing between her brows when she realized to what he was admitting. “You did?” she guessed.
He once again nodded in the pillow. “Even better, it seems my daughter will be a countess. Can you imagine? The matchmaker’s fee will be the best blunt I’ve ever spent in my life.”
Her frown deepening, Eliza stared at him for another moment before she finally took a breath. “An earl? You are aware your daughter believes we should do away with the aristocracy?” she said, barely making it a question.
A grunt of disgust sounded from Cornelius. “The monarchy, too, if she had her way,” he replied. “But it’s not likely to happen in our lifetimes, and in the meantime, she can enjoy the benefits of being a blue blood,” he added happily.
Eliza scoffed. “My darling, the men for whom Mrs. Dove-Lyon makes matches might have titles, but they are not… they are not men of means,” she said in a whisper. She felt him shrug beneath her, and once again furrowed her brows. “They marry for money. For dowries.”
“I am aware,” Cornelius replied. “Do not worry yourself overmuch. I have a generous marriage portion set aside for my Catherine, and I’m more than happy to give it to whomever comes requesting permission to marry her.”
“And then?” Eliza prompted.
He once again shrugged. “Then we shall see to a license of our own and be married shortly after,” he replied.
Assured his plans for their own union hadn’t changed, Eliza relaxed in his hold. “That sounds lovely,” she murmured.
“Now, if it’s all right with you, I should like to return to slumber. You have worn out this old man,” he accused, a grin lifting his cheeks.
Her cheeks displaying a pink blush, she murmured, “Sweet dreams,” and reached up to kiss the corner of his mouth.
Although his plan for Catherine’s future did sound like a perfect arrangement—at least for almost any other spinster—Eliza couldn’t help the niggling feeling Cathrine wouldn’t agree.
She settled her head back in the small of his shoulder and closed her eyes. Sleep did not come as easily for her as it did for Cornelius.
He was already snoring softly.