Chapter 6
Chapter 6
24th of March 1814
Henry strode down Park Lane towards Richmond House Wednesday morning with a nosegay of white roses in his hand. His heart pounded as though it was about to burst from his chest, and if he had not sweat through his gloves and all over the stems of the blooms, he would be surprised. His palms had held a constant dampness since he had departed Albemarle House. How could the prospect of spending time with a lady enflame his nerves so?
Yes, he found the lady beautiful and intriguing, yet he was not some green young man who had never bedded a woman. He had been married and had daughters for goodness’ sake! However, his father had more or less arranged his marriage, and Marina had never required him to court her. She desired a wealthy husband and a greater title than daughter of an earl. She had the promise of both when they wed, so she had been content. Thus, he had never been required to pay court to a lady, so the prospect caused a great deal of disquiet. Why?
The butler, a Mr. Gideon, admitted him to Richmond House and sent a maid to inform Miss Montford of his arrival before showing him to one of the drawing rooms. No more than four or five minutes passed before the earl peeked inside.
“Albermarle! I thought I heard a different voice in the hall. I hope you are well.”
Henry’s entire body tightened a hair when the earl glanced down at the nosegay. Charles had insisted the flowers were a necessity, but his brother had always enjoyed flirting more than him. Maybe Henry could stuff them into his topcoat, and no one would notice.
“I am well. Miss Montford promised my daughters a visit this morning, so I have come to collect her.”
“Ah,” said Richmond. “I see. I am certain Janey will be pleased to spend time with them. She also likes roses, in case you were wondering.” He cleared his throat. “Why do you not come into my study? I believe we should speak.” He waved over a maid. “Let Grace put those roses in water before you crush the stems so badly, they wilt.”
With a start, Henry lifted the flowers from his side and opened his hand. The stems were a bit mangled. His gloves also held indentations from where the thorns had been removed.
The maid took the flowers with a slight smile as the earl waved him to follow. As soon as he entered the oak-panelled room lined with books, Richmond closed the door behind them.
“Pray, do sit. Would you care for some coffee or tea?”
Henry shook his head. “No, thank you.” He sat in one of the chairs facing the earl’s desk, crossed his ankle over his knee, and bounced his foot.
Richmond, meanwhile, sat and leaned back, his fingers laced together and resting on the surface of his desk. “I hope you will forgive my presumption, but after the opera, the dinner at your home, and the nosegay this morning, I feel I would be remiss if I did not enquire of your intentions.”
As Henry rubbed his hands up and down his thighs, he inhaled then exhaled. Thank the Lord his brother was not here! Charles would be smothering a wicked laugh at his expense. “I hope to discover if Miss Montford and I suit.” There. Not a flowery proclamation, but the truth, nonetheless. “While I was wed, my wife and I attended balls and routs, and we enjoyed what it was to be young and in society I suppose. Eventually, I grew unsatisfied with it all. I came to abhor the gossip and the behaviour of those around me while Marina thrived upon it. When Emme was born, my wife had little to do with the babe, and my father criticised her for not bearing an heir. I had no understanding of how someone could hold a tiny life inside them for months, then hand them over to strangers to raise. My father told me I was as sentimental as a girl.”
“I would not have said that,” said Richmond with a frown. “My wife and I take our part in the whirl of the ton, but we have learnt to surround ourselves with those who possess similar ideals. We are friendly with the rest, but they are not within our circle, so to speak.”
Henry nodded. “I suppose Marina’s death when Jules was born was the feather that broke the horse’s back.[2] My father had died right after the babe quickened. He swore on his deathbed, the child would be the heir. My wife bristled at the strictures of mourning while I embraced the reprieve. I spent time with Emme in the nursery, and when Marina died, a part of me felt relief that I had more time to hide from the world.” He ran his fingers through this hair. “When Miss Montford was of aid to my girls, she showed more compassion and selflessness than most of my acquaintance. My brother even commented upon it. He suggested I use our night at the opera to consider whether your granddaughter would be a good match. That evening, I admired her poise when under scrutiny as well as her willingness to continue her acquaintance with my daughters. I have no interest in a lady who would come into my home and wish to rid herself of my daughters as soon as they are old enough to send to school.”
The earl tapped his clasped hands on his desk. “I cannot blame you for your feelings. I do remember when your marriage was announced. Your father boasted of his hand in arranging the matter. I believe you had little choice.”
“No, I did not.”
The older gentleman levelled a steady gaze on Henry for a moment. Richmond seemed to be working towards saying something serious, so Henry would need to temper whatever response his gut produced to keep peace. After all, the man had a granddaughter to protect. Henry would be in his place when his daughters became old enough for gentlemen callers.
“Sir, while I understand I am above you in rank, you are older, and Miss Montford’s grandfather. I would prefer you speak your mind and not concern yourself with how to keep from offending me.”
The older gentleman sat back. “I do have a concern with an involvement between you and my granddaughter.”
“Which would be?”
“While I remember your father’s boasting, I also remember the rumours that followed you after your marriage. I believe you kept a mistress—an actress if I recall the gossip correctly. While the practice is common, I would prefer my grandchildren make love matches, and my granddaughters not know the heartbreak or unhappiness that can come from an unequal marriage. If your intention is to continue—”
He gripped his leg. Given the earl’s reputation, the man could deny his suit before it started. “Lord Richmond, I would have you know I ended the arrangement between myself and the lady just after the death of my wife. My father was a difficult man to please. He partook of the habit and encouraged me to do so even before I wed. Those years I was a husband served to teach me what I do not want now, and my brother Lord Charles learnt from my example. I envy that he has not made the same mistakes. As much as I regret parts of it, my marriage I cannot bemoan since my daughters would not exist without it. I would change many other things had I the opportunity.” Why had a rawness taken over? His skin prickled as though scrubbed for too hard and too long.
“I thank you for your candour,” said Lord Richmond. “I had not expected the thoroughness of your explanation, but your honesty provides me a great deal of relief.”
Henry nodded, pulled back his shoulders, and released them in an effort to alleviate the tension within. He would wish Miss Montford to learn of him from him. “I have said little of any of this—”
The earl held up his hand. “I shall not disclose what you have said. If you know our reputation, we are not ones to gossip. We have kept many a secret over the years. That said, Janey is selfless indeed, but as was mentioned before, she desires to see only the good in people. It is rare she recognises the bad. A few years ago, a gentleman attempted to court her for her fortune, which has made her wary and doubt herself. She may not understand your intentions easily. She has also withdrawn since the experience.”
“I have no need of her fortune. If we suit, her portion will be set aside as part of her settlement.” Marina’s fortune was split between her daughters. He had added to the funds, of course, but he was not in need of money. Unlike many of his rank, he did practice economy.
“Another fact you must understand,” said the earl. “Janey is the daughter of our beloved Sophie, but her father is a country gentleman from Hertfordshire. He is in possession of a small estate called Longbourn, which he does naught to improve since it is entailed to a distant cousin—a parson to none other than Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
“How unfortunate.” He had never met the lady, yet all and sundry were aware of her high opinion of herself and her perceived superiority.
“I would prefer you know that information now than abandon her later when it would, no doubt, come to light.”
Henry uncrossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped. “I have no care for who her father is. I assume he has little to do in her life since she lives with you.”
“As you were exceedingly honest with me, I shall do the same for you. A few years ago, I removed the girls from their father’s care. In an effort to keep her home, his wife was too eager to marry off Lizzybeth to the heir, a weasel of a man and below my granddaughter in every way. Bennet had also allowed Mr. Bingley to call on Jane, and his wife had encouraged the match. I did not approve of that young man either and was proven right when he returned to his pursuit upon learning of Janey’s connexion to me.
“Bennet came to town for Lizzybeth’s wedding to Fitzwilliam Darcy, but other than an occasional letter, he makes little effort to see his daughters. His wife is a vulgar woman who values fortune and seeks nothing more than to marry herthree daughters to men of means. Janey will describe those three sisters as spirited and lively, but they are spoilt and unrepentant flirts. Lizzybeth has told us much of them over the years. Her view of their demeanours is more accurate than her sister’s.”
At a knock on the door, Richmond called for the person to come, and his granddaughter entered, glancing between them. “Sutton informed me the duke had arrived. I thank you for the flowers, Your Grace; they are lovely.”
Henry, who had stood when she entered, gave a small bow. “I shall scour my hothouse for more if they bring you happiness.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I would not have you give them all to me. I am certain Lady Emmeline and Lady Juliana must take some enjoyment in them.”
The earl cleared his throat. “Albemarle, since what occurred with your daughters in the park, I trust every precaution will be taken with my granddaughter’s call?”
With somewhat of a start, Henry joined his hands behind his back. “Yes, of course. Although I walked here, I have my carriage awaiting us at the kerb due to the cold and to ensure Miss Montford’s safety. One of the footmen attending my daughters that day in Hyde Park was returned to my household after the opera. He was badly beaten, and unfortunately, could not give much information to the investigators considering the injuries he sustained in the attack.”
Miss Montford gasped, and her hands flew to her mouth.
“My God,” said Richmond. “Was he out in the cold all that time?”
“No, he was found in a Mayfair alley and brought to the Grosvenor Chapel. There, he was cared for until he could tell the vicar where he belonged.”
“How kind of them to be of such aid to him,” said Miss Montford.
“Yes, I agree. I rewarded the vicar’s assistance with a generous sum to his cause. Adam is a valued and trusted footman, and his sister has been excellent at seeing to the girls in Miss Fletcher’s absence. I could do no less.” Henry held out an arm towards the door. “Miss Montford, if you are ready, shall we depart? I know the girls are eagerly awaiting your arrival.”
Miss Montford gave a dip of her chin. “Yes, I am eager to see them as well.”
After a few quick words to the earl, they made their way to the carriage with Miss Montford’s maid joining them for the ride to the other end of Park Lane.
Henry’s knee bounced under his desk while he attempted to attend his business. Blast it! What was wrong with him? Since the opera, he thought of Miss Montford more and more, much to the detriment of his correspondence and ledgers. Now, she was upstairs, in his home, but here for his daughters. How was he supposed to become better acquainted with her if he was shut within his study with his secretary? Why was he so put out by it, anyway? He hardly knew her!
After three more taps, he placed his pen in its stand and stood. “I believe I am finished for today.” His man rose and, with a brief bow, departed below stairs to his own study.
Henry made his way into the hall. He was about to ascend the stairs, but Miss Montford appeared at the top with her maid, making him come to a sudden halt.
“Your Grace, are you well? You appear out of sorts.”
“No, I am well. I was curious to see how you and the girls were managing, so I was about to join you in the nursery.”
“We enjoyed ourselves immensely. Your daughters are very imaginative. They told me of their dolls, I read them stories, and we sang for a short time. They just had refreshments, and Lady Juliana is asleep while Lady Emmeline is practicing her letters with your housekeeper. ’Tis lovely of her and Lettie to help while Miss Fletcher is ill.” When Miss Montford reached the bottom, she looked up at him.
“Yes, well, I am assured Miss Fletcher’s bruises have almost faded. Meanwhile, Mrs. Tanner sent out for some face powder to help conceal what remains. I know Miss Fletcher is eager to show the girls she is hale.”
“Yes, I am certain they will be greatly relieved. They both mentioned the park, and I redirected them towards happier conversations.”
He gave a nod. “I do the same. I fear if they dwell on what occurred, they will remain frightened of leaving the house. I do not want them to know what could have happened if it can be helped.”
They both started at the knocker. Taft walked by in his usual measured gait to answer the door. When none other than Simon stood in the doorway, Henry’s hands clenched at his sides. “What is it you want?”
One side of Simon’s lips quirked, and he lifted his eyebrows as he took a single step into the hall. “Really, Brother, is that how you greet me these days?” His gaze flitted over to Miss Montford, and he chuckled. “I had wondered if I was to have a new sister soon. It seems I am. I wish you both joy.” He glanced between Henry and Miss Montford. “Will you not introduce me?”
Henry stepped between the lady and his rascal of a brother. “I shall do no such thing. I am not fooled by your appearance or your happy manners. Remove yourself from my house at once. You know very well you are not welcome here.” Henry’s insides were a writhing mess. How could Simon stroll into this house and behave as though butter would not melt in his mouth? The audacity!
Simon held up both his hands, palms forward. “I have no wish to be a bother. I only heard of Emmeline and Juliana’s attempted abduction and thought to offer my assistance in capturing the rogues who would do this.”
“You would turn yourself over to the constable then?” Henry crossed his arms over his chest.
“Me?” Simon laughed in a manner that was too easy. “I have no reason to harm two little girls. What threat do they pose to me?”
“Why did you come here today, Simon? Did you know the lady was here and wish to ingratiate yourself to her? If so, begone, for I shall not introduce you.”
“Brother—”
“Begone!” He had not meant to be so forceful, but the cloying tone when Simon said the last made his hackles rise.
“My, my, Henry. Do not make a scene. If you are to be so petty as to allow childhood squabbles prevent me from being of aid to my nieces, I shall not make a nuisance of myself. Good day, Miss.”
As soon as Taft closed the door behind Simon, Henry’s shoulders relaxed, and he scrubbed his face with his hands. Had he ruined any chance he had of courtship with Miss Montford? She must have surely been appalled at his outburst, not to mention Lord Richmond’s warning that she sought the good in everyone. What if she took Simon’s part—even after the warning she had seemed to believe at the opera? “Miss Montford, I cannot tell you enough how sorry I am that you bore witness to that shameful scene.”
“You have no need to apologise. I find it dismaying that the two of you have such a strained relationship—such a lack of trust. Perhaps he is in earnest and wishes to make amends.”
Her countenance was open. She truly did believe the best in everyone. Unfortunately, his younger brother did not deserve such faithfulness. “I understand why you would hope for a reconciliation between brothers, but Simon has created too much mischief and harbours no regret or remorse for his actions. I shall not allow his depravity in my home, particularly when my daughters can be endangered by him.”
Miss Montford’s gaze flitted to the door and back. “Whatever he has done must be awful indeed.”
“He has committed several acts that I shall never be able to forgive. Pray, believe I speak as I do to protect Emme and Jules as well as you from him. As I said at the opera, he is not to be trusted. I hope you will not hold my stubbornness against me.”
She gave a small start and smiled. “Of course not, Your Grace. I am sure you have your reasons.”
He held out his arm. “Come. I shall ring the bell and request some footmen to walk with us down Park Lane. I am certain your grandparents must be expecting you soon.” And after his vow to Lord Richmond, he would take no risks with the man’s granddaughter.
Miss Montford’s delicate hand in the crook of his arm sent a current through him, even with the layers of his coat, shirt, and her gloves separating their bare flesh. With her willingness to believe the good in everyone, she would require a certain amount of protection many ladies did not, but something in him longed to take care of her—ensure her rosy view of the world was never tainted. The urge was one he had never experienced before. Was that a sign he already possessed feelings for the lady? They had known each other for such a short time. How was that even possible?