Chapter 9 #2
Miss Dalrymple pulled Lavender from the wall by one hand. “Come, let’s go sit by Lord Chilcott. He would make an excellent match for you.” Miss Dalrymple’s interest in Lavender compared to a few days ago at tea was markedly noticeable.
“Isn’t Lord Chilcott a little . . . ornery?” It was the kindest word she could come up with for the man. He was self-absorbed, did not keep his appointments, and vengeful. Lavender was about as familiar with the man as she wanted to be.
“Yes, he is, a little. But your mother did always wish for one of her girls to marry someone with a title. Besides that, there are consistently other gentlemen around him. He tends to be a collector of people. If you can also be collected, there will be numerous opportunities for you to meet other gentlemen.”
Lavender had noticed Lord Chilcott had quite a following, and it seemed to grow at each event she saw him. “Very well, only do not make me sing. I simply refuse to be in front of this many people.”
Miss Dalrymple clapped her hands and brought them to her chest. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Lavender breathed a little easier. If she could bring her father some peace before he passed, the discomfort of finding a husband would be worth it.
The two women sat next to Miriam, the duke, and his mother. Miss Dalrymple leaned over to speak to the duchess. “I hope you don’t mind if I join forces with you, Your Grace. We simply must find someone suitable for our lovely Lady Lavender to wed.”
Lavender looked around her, acutely aware that there might be listening ears. “I believe we ought to discuss this later, Miss Dalrymple.”
Miriam smiled at Lavender. “Perhaps Miss Dalrymple can call on us tomorrow morning?”
The meeting was decided upon just before the next musician was invited to perform.
Lavender’s heart thumped wildly within her chest at the thought of these two women deciding which gentleman she would be shackled with forever.
The two could not be more different. Miriam was a staunch believer in true love, and Miss Dalrymple seemed far more logically minded.
Lavender wasn’t sure why she was suddenly uneasy about the idea.
She took a deep breath. They could meddle all they wanted.
In the end, the decision would still lie with her.
And as there was no gentleman who held her heart, maybe whomever they chose would be sufficient.
The question remained. What type of man was she looking for, if not a love match?
She felt as directionless as a leaf falling from a tree, at the mercy of the wind.
Perhaps it was better for her to begin with what she was not looking for.
She imagined Mr. Lanscombe and their last meeting together.
The first thing Lavender would simply not abide was a gentleman who wanted to keep their relationship a secret.
She would only accept someone who was proud to be courting with her.
She thought about the things that made her happy.
If she wasn’t aiming for love, she could, at the very least, aim for happiness.
Books made her happy. She would look for someone with a magnificent library.
One of her closest friends was Henry, so she would want someone who would allow her to choose her own staff, even if it meant upsetting the household.
With any luck, Lavender would be able to convince her old gardener to come live with her.
He could fill the fatherly role she would need in her life once her own father passed on.
Her thoughts stopped there. Who was she to be contemplating all the things that would make her happy with life when her family was on the brink of being torn apart forever?
Maybe it would be better for Lavender to find someone willing to care for her needs, give her books, and allow her parents the peace they craved in knowing their children were settled.
Miriam must have sensed Lavender’s melancholy, for she sent for their carriage after the next song.
The Gilfordshires and Lavender took their leave early, with apologies to the host for their departure.
Once they were in the carriage on the way back, Miriam looked Lavender in the eyes.
“I admit I adore the idea of helping you find a husband, but I know better than to intrude upon your wishes. So, tell me what to look for.”
“I don’t even know,” Lavender replied. “I want to make my parents happy. It is the only thing in my power to help my father at this terrible time. Perhaps we ought to put the names of acceptable men in a hat, pull one out, and be done with it. I am sure you could do something for me if we had a specific gentleman to focus on.”
“Lavender Gardner, I am ashamed of you,” Miriam pulled out her fan and began swatting at Lavender’s legs. “I am perhaps one of the most romantic people in London. I will settle for no less than a love match for you.”
“I might not have that much time available to me. And I cannot force someone to love me. Besides, I am not looking for a love match.”
Miriam shook her head and waved off Lavender’s comment.
“You can tell yourself that, but I demand better for you. If love is forced, it is not love at all. Love is a force, a pull you can fight against, but it will always win out in the end. You may not know who your future belongs with yet, but you will. You’ll feel it deep down, impossible as it may seem.
And when you do, I’ll help you in any way I can. ”
“Thank you, Miriam. You have been so kind to take me in and introduce me to so many people. I hope I do not ever seem ungrateful, despite my soft-spoken nature.”
Miriam laughed a little. “I could have guessed your personality simply by your name. Rose was always bold and perfect, Bluebell has always been whimsical and courageous, and you, Lavender, bring a measure of calm and peace with you wherever you go. My little Daniel, as spirited and headstrong as he is, behaves better when you are around. And Juliet refuses to allow anyone else to read her stories before bed. I don’t know what they will do when you leave us. ”
“They have a long time before we have to consider that.”
“I dearly hope so,” Miriam looked out the window. “Now, let us get a good night’s rest. What do you say?”
“That sounds wonderful. Only, I’d like to go out to the garden for a little while before I turn in.”
Miriam smiled. “Take Tom with you.”
Lavender’s stomach flipped over. “I will. Good night, Miriam.”
Tom was sitting on Lavender’s bench with a wooden plank resting beside him. “Good evening, Lady Lavender.”
“Hello, Tom. Have you been expecting me?” Did she want him to be expecting her?
“No,” he stood abruptly, “I thought you’d be straight to bed tonight.” He rubbed his hands down his trousers.
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“Is there anything you care to talk about?”
Lavender sat on the bench and invited him to sit once more.
She thought about her evening, and all the things she’d learned about herself and others, and she could not keep in her sigh.
She could not talk to Tom about whom she ought to marry, so she fell into habit and brought up the most common conversation that had been buzzing around town.
“Have you ever encountered the missing Duke of Fenleigh?”
“That is an odd question, but . . . yes. I have.”
She sat up straighter. “Can you tell me about him?”
Tom shifted the plank to rest beneath their shared bench. “What do you want to know?”
“The truth if you have it. I hear so many things about him from others, I do not know what to believe. But the topic is all anyone talks about, so I’d like to be informed about the man. How well do you know him?”
Tom pressed his lips together. “I used to be in his household.”
Lavender’s interest was piqued. “I have some questions.”