Chapter 22 #2
“She has a point, Selina. Your betrothed is expected tonight for dinner, and we do not want him thinking of you as an overstuffed piglet,” Lady Marlow said as she took the rolls from Selina.
“Grandmama! I am merely providing myself with enough strength for wedding preparations,” Selina protested. “Also, my betrothed is busy, and he will not be able to make it, so he will send his brother in his stead. Anyway, I do not gain weight easily. I can eat everything and—”
“Do we need to hear all that?” Portia asked, not unkindly.
“Her wedding dress?” Madeline inquired, still caught up in that bit of information. “What have I missed?”
“Yes, our dear Selina has found a husband when she is barely out for her Season,” their Grandmama praised proudly. “They cannot help but notice how lovely our dear girl is. A duke, no less!”
“Selina, I am so happy for you!” Madeline exclaimed, truly happy for her sister, but also felt some anxiety about such sudden marriages. “But are you certain you have found the man for you?”
“I have read somewhere that you cannot truly know a person during courtship because they always put their best foot forward,” murmured Portia.
“Oh, Portia! Enough with those books of yours. If you have to lift a finger to make your own wedding happen, you will need more sustenance—”
“What? A loose fence?” asked Lord Marlow. He was peacefully eating his roll. Then, he realized he needed to hear more of the conversation. She pressed his ear trumpet close. “I had the west fence fixed the other day. That is not your business!”
Lady Marlow sighed softly. “Norman, she said nothing about the fence. You may now lower your contraption and focus on your food.” Then, she turned to Madeline, noticing how her visiting granddaughter had not eaten anything yet.
“Now, you may be the one who needs sustenance. You are barely eating! Do you not like the cakes? I know it may not have the same sophistication as the ones at Huntington, but I am certain that we—”
“No, Grandmama, it is not that,” Madeline protested, forcing a tight smile. “I cannot eat anything too close to dinner. It is just... I have missed you all so much.”
“We have missed you, too, Maddy,” Portia said, her face softening as she watched her older sister closely. “We miss you playing the pianoforte. Do you get to play at Huntington House?”
“While the instruments are quite grand, I am still getting accustomed to being there at all. Even if I do play, His Grace is often occupied with his many responsibilities for the estate.”
“Men in such roles are always quite tedious during the Season,” Selina declared, as if she knew all about men at the age of eighteen. “But surely, he also needs time for recreation. What did he say when you told him you were coming for a visit? Did he beg you not to leave?”
Oh, if only that were the case.
“He was... understanding,” Madeline lied, tightening her grip on her cup. “He knows that I am happy visiting my family.”
“Ah. Then, he is a gentleman of the highest order,” Lady Marlow said, looking smug. “A practical man who gives you space is a blessing. A more emotional man would be overly possessive. He would want his bride by his side at all times.”
“Old times? Oh, I do recall how I never let you leave my side when we were newly married,” Lord Marlow said, his mouth full.
“See? Your grandpapa is proof enough of what I mean. You should be glad your husband is not like that,” Lady Marlow complained, but she also patted Lord Marlow on the shoulder.
Madeline simply nodded, trying to swallow feelings of guilt and irony.
Kenneth did not love her and would not be as possessive as one might imagine a man would be toward his bride.
She was simply there to sort out her feelings.
Huntington House would clearly survive without her presence for a mere two days, especially with Malcolm sober.
She sipped her tea, letting her sisters’ loud chatter drown thoughts of Kenneth.
Later, while waiting for their guest to arrive for dinner, Portia and Selina went to their bedchambers to freshen up. Lord Marlow remained sitting in his favorite chair, the one near the crackling fire. He had been watching her all evening, and Madeline wondered why.
“Are you quite well, Grandpapa? It seems like you have been staring at me all day.”
Lord Marlow blinked, as if surprised. He hoisted his hearing instrument to his ear. “What is that you say, Madeline? You want a pear? You may get one, dear, but I am afraid I do not recommend it when dinner is almost upon us.”
Despite her aching heart, a genuine laugh escaped her lips. “No, Grandpapa. I do not need one, but I was asking if you were quite well.”
“Ah! Yes, I am well. But you, my dear child, are not. I can see that you are sad,” he said softly, startling her with his serious tone. “We are overjoyed to see you, but is there something wrong? Did something happen at Huntington House?”
“Nothing has happened, Grandpapa, at least nothing out of the ordinary. His Grace is the same man as before. I have done all that I can to reach him, but his heart seems to be locked away. I feel foolish for ever thinking I could make a difference in his life.”
“Madeline,” her grandfather murmured, his trumpet in his ear at the ready, as if he could not bear to miss any word she would say. Her heart clenched at the sight. “Keep your heart open. Do not lose hope, for nothing in this world is what it seems on the surface.”
“How else do I see it, then?” she asked. “He does not love me. He cannot even pretend.”
“Sometimes love is not demonstrated through grand declarations or theatrical romantic gestures,” Lord Marlow explained, smiling at her reassuringly.
“Men like Huntington have been trained from birth to suppress their emotions. To tame their words. However, they may show you their true feelings through small acts of care. Look at the small things. That is where the truth hides.”
“I cannot be certain anymore, Grandpapa. I feel like I am floundering in search of water in the desert.”
Footsteps approached them. It was her Grandmama with a silver tray and port. She set it on the table, her sharp eyes shifting between her husband and her granddaughter. Then, she nodded as if she understood everything perfectly. She took a seat across from Lord Marlow and watched Madeline.
“Listen to your Grandpapa, dear girl,” she said. “If his advice is not enough for you, listen to me. I can assure you with absolute certainty that your husband, no matter how stoic he is, cares for you.”
“How can you know that, Grandmama?” Madeline sighed. “You have not seen how he behaves. You have not heard the words from his mouth, and seen the distance—”
“I may not have, Madeline, but I know what matters. He cares enough about you to pay off all your father’s debts. All of them. And I imagine he did it quietly without even telling anyone.”
“W-what?”
The words took some time to register. Suddenly, the crackling of the fire sounded miles away.
“He did what?” she repeated, choking out the words.
“Your husband, the Duke of Huntington, paid for every single penny that worthless Harleigh owed,” Lady Marlow repeated, smiling softly. “Harleigh told me himself that his creditors are now content and will not do anything else to harm any member of the family. His Grace has warned them, too.”
Madeline could not speak. Her cheeks felt flushed, and a roaring sound came to her ears.
Why would he do something like that? Could he truly care for me?