Chapter 5 #2
And in the sparkling jewels and the shining silk and the fluttering of painted fans, Lady Mitchell clearly was not one of the wealthiest, and certainly not one of the most important.
And yet her eyes were full of a shining sort of joviality and love that Perseus knew his entire family would approve of.
And he found himself being incredibly grateful that Muriel’s mother was thus.
For often, members of the ton were not jovial at all, nor did they feel any particular love for their children, except for in the way they could maneuver them to improve the status of the family.
Lady Mitchell was likely no fool and knew that a friendship with the Briarwoods would provide her daughters with possibilities she’d never dared to dream of, but she didn’t appear mercenary as she stood before them in the box, looking quite happy to simply have been invited.
“Come, come. Both of you must sit with me,” the dowager duchess urged to the mother and daughter. As his grandmama sat in a gilded chair, she pointed her fan at two seats.
Muriel sat on her right, the mother on her left.
“Now, are you having an excellent Season so far?” the dowager said, turning to Lady Mitchell.
And as the two began their conversation, Perseus’s uncles, Ajax and Hector, waggled their brows at him.
The look of sheer merriment caused him to shoot a warning glance at the two impossible but beloved men.
Hector nodded with approval at Miss Mitchell.
Ajax mouthed, “She’s the one!”
Was she? Quite possibly, and he found himself smiling at the idea.
“Oh yes, it’s a very good Season,” declared Lady Mitchell, snapping open her own rose-colored fan painted with bright peonies.
She tsked conspiratorially. “But I do have three daughters to marry. Muriel is not looking for a husband this Season, and I’m rather glad that she can simply enjoy herself.
Getting the other girls good husbands is quite a task, but I’m sure you could give me many wonderful suggestions, Your Grace, as I know your children have made most excellent marriages. ”
The dowager beamed. “I would love to be of assistance,” his grandmother crowed. “Excellent husbands are a specialty of mine. And I’m glad you think so highly of my own children’s marriages. Some of them have been rather untraditional marriages, but they’re all happy.”
“How wonderful. That is exactly what I wish for my children,” Lady Mitchell gushed.
The dowager duchess paused, as did Perseus, as did the entire collection of Briarwoods in the box, and even the box next to them filled with his cousins, for the Briarwoods did have several boxes. The family was so large that one would never do.
“Happiness is the most important thing to you?” his grandmother asked carefully, clearly wanting to be certain she’d heard correctly. For happiness was rarely the primary factor in the marriage mart.
“Yes, of course,” Lady Mitchell said without hesitation.
“Now, of course, I do think that there are certain things that assist with happiness. Financial security, likeness of mind, enjoyment of literature and the theater,” she said, gesturing to the stage.
“None of my girls could ever marry anyone who was too puritanical, I think. Anyone who wished to deny song and dance and theater and all of that.”
Muriel caught Perseus’s eye, and he was shocked to find that she was looking at him with…admiration and a sort of shiny-eyed gratitude.
Ajax elbowed him and whispered out of the side of his mouth, “You’re blushing, puppy.”
“You’ve won her over for certain,” Hector whispered under the din.
He tsked at his uncles. Maybe they were correct, but all he wished to do was feel the unequivocal pleasure that Muriel’s look brought him.
“Yes, my girls must marry intelligent men who will not keep them down,” Lady Mitchell said firmly.
“How heartening,” the dowager duchess exclaimed.
“You have certainly come to the right place. I shall do everything I can to assist. If you will come to the Blakeford ball tomorrow night, I shall be happy to make your daughters’ introductions to the most interesting and worthy of gentlemen.
Alas, all of my sons are married and just about all of the boy cousins too.
My grandchildren have been pairing off like nobody’s business lately, but Perseus is unwed, as is Deimos. ”
Perseus nearly choked.
Ajax pounded him swiftly on the back.
“Steady on,” said Hector.
“He inhaled a bit of feather,” Ajax said as Perseus tried to catch his breath.
His uncles’ hands were like hammers.
He shouldn’t have choked, but he hadn’t expected his grandmama to thrust him out like that.
Lady Mitchell looked back, snapped her fan shut, clapped her hands, and looked as if she had just seen the most magnificent horse at the market.
“Grandmama,” he said, clearing his throat, “have there not been enough weddings this winter?”
“There are never enough weddings,” Ajax countered.
“What’s one more?” Hector asked with a shrug.
Indeed, Perseus mused to himself, what was one more? His gaze turned to Muriel.
“Oh, my dear, a loving grandmother must look out for her grandson. It is my duty to help pair you up with someone in the world.”
She was right. And he was damned lucky.
He somehow managed to tear his gaze from Muriel and gave his grandmother a grateful look. What else could he do? Because the truth was his grandmama was actually quite excellent at pairing people up.
If he’d been asked this morning, he would have proclaimed that he had no intention of making a match this year. But now?
His eyes quickly darted back to Muriel. There was something about her, wasn’t there? Something that caused his insides to quake and not with unsettling feelings. No, they quaked with warmth, with desire, but most of all, a wish to see her happy.
As if her happiness could make him happy.
He’d never experienced anything like it. It was selfless. He didn’t want anything in turn from her. He just wanted to see the glow in her eyes, the warmth of her cheeks, the parting of her lips, and a smile that bore no worries.
“Your daughter is quite the scholar,” he said to Lady Mitchell.
Lady Mitchell beamed proudly. “Yes, she always has been. She’s always preferred a book and a piece of paper and a pen to a waltz.”
“Do you not like to dance, Miss Mitchell?” he blurted, surprised.
“Oh, I dance well enough,” Muriel said quickly. “I have nothing against balls. They are a perfectly good way to make conversation and meet people. But truth be told, I would much rather have a chat in my own head with imaginary people than be surrounded by so many.”
Her mother’s smile grew brittle for a moment, as if she feared her daughter had perhaps gone a step too far with her honesty.
He prepared himself to have to defend Muriel. But her mother reached out and touched her gloved hand. “You’ve always been thus, my darling. And you always have the most delightful of goings-on in that head of yours.”
The love between mother and daughter filled him with joy and relief.
Muriel laughed. “Oh dear. I’ve been too honest, haven’t I?”
“Definitely not,” the dowager duchess exclaimed, patting her hand. “Such honesty is most flattering. For it means you trust us all.”
Now, he would have to prove himself worthy of that trust. He couldn’t fail. He wouldn’t. Her future was on the line. As was his.