Chapter 5
The solicitors had tried to placate him—after he paid them an unexpected visit—with meaningless words and guaranteed that everything would be in order by the end of the week. Despite their assurances, Royce had little faith in their ability to follow through on what they promised.
As he arrived at the stable with Titan, his mother and Imogen walked out from the garden to greet him. They mentioned the rumors that had started to circulate, and expressed their concerns about the potential consequences of such rumors. Royce assured them he and Miss Putnam still had an understanding, and there was no need to worry.
Once they were content that all was as it should be, they ventured back into the garden. Royce walked toward the front gate in the opposite direction, seeking quiet to clear his mind and gather his thoughts.
But try as he might, he could not think of anyone who would have known about the postponement besides Lord Milton. And it was with one-hundred percent certainty that Royce could say Lord Milton would not have started the rumor himself.
His meeting with Lord Milton had not gone well, but it had not been as bad as he had perhaps expected it to be. And when asked for an explanation, Royce had told him that pressing estate business would keep him from giving the engagement all the attention it deserved.
Begrudgingly, Lord Milton had agreed, and Royce had let out a small sigh of relief. But now this rumor threatened to undo everything. How was he supposed to balance this and his agreement with Mr. Rowntree at the same time?
He turned the corner and was taken by surprise as a woman bumped into him, causing him to swiftly reach out and steady her before she lost her balance. Royce looked down as the brim of the women’s bonnet popped back into place and saw Della’s beautiful eyes staring up at him.
“I am sorry, Your Grace. I was just on my way home and was not paying attention to where I was going.” Della wiggled, trying to free herself from Royce’s grasp.
Royce released her, clearing his throat as he took a step back. “The fault is not entirely yours. I was not watching either.” He took a moment to look around and realized Della was by herself. “Who escorted you here?”
“I walked here on my own. Surely you noticed that when I arrived earlier?”
“I had assumed your lady’s maid escorted you and had already gone down to the kitchens.”
“Well, as you can see, I seem to have managed just fine on my own.” Della smiled.
“Allow me to escort you back home.”
“There really is no need,” Della said irritably. “I am fully capable of walking myself home. It is just a few streets over and through the park.”
She attempted to step around him.
“Entertain me then,” Royce said, as he stepped back in front of her.
“Men…” Della said with an exasperated sigh. “Always looking to play the part of the conquering hero.”
Though Della was disappointed with her father for asking Royce to fulfill the late Duke’s request, her disappointment in Royce was greater. She knew what his marriage plans entailed, and those plans did not include her.
So why had he not trusted her enough to mention anything? Della thought herself to be a reasonable and level-headed person. Perhaps he feared how she might react?
Della glanced up in contemplation at Royce’s profile, cocking her head to the side; he was so handsome.
“Something on your mind?” Royce asked.
Della averted her eyes and blushed at being caught staring so openly at Royce. “I was just thinking about when we were children. Do you remember Maggie and I chasing you, Grayson, Desmond, and Aden, for having stuck a toad in Maggie’s face?”
A small smile spread across Royce’s face as he seemed to recall that day. “I remember you coming to Maggie’s rescue and reprimanding us.”
“She is my best friend. Of course I came to her rescue.”
They both laughed at the memory.
“You would have made an excellent governess. Mother and father laughed when they heard about how you scolded us. I miss those days,” he sighed and continued. “The days of doing things because we wanted to, not because we had to.”
Suddenly, Royce looked tired, like the world’s weight was on his shoulders.
They fell into a companionable silence until they reached the entrance of her home. Della stopped to smell a rose that had bloomed on the bushes lining the balustrades that bordered the steps. She remembered pretending to be a character from one of her favorite stories when she was a little girl, La Belle et la Bête. A story of a beautiful girl, whom they called Beauty, and the Beast that imprisoned her because her father stole a rose.
“Are your father or aunt aware that you insist on walking without an escort or your lady’s maid?” Royce asked as he knocked on the door.
Della looked down at the ground guiltily.
“I thought as much,” he said when she did not reply. “Please allow me to do the honor of escorting you, with Maggie, of course, if you have somewhere you would like to go. It would give me peace of mind knowing you are safe and give us a chance to talk. We have done very little talking these past few years.”
“Indeed, we have talked little until recently,” Della said. “And I appreciate the offer, Your Grace, but—”
“Royce” he corrected.
Della looked around. “Royce…” she said quickly, hoping no one had overheard her call a duke by his given name.
“Please send a message when you need me, and I will clear my schedule.”
Royce bowed over her hand and bid her farewell as Croxton opened the door.
Della watched Royce’s retreating form, and her heart ached for him, for the boy he used to be, and for the boy he wished he could still be. But like everyone must, they had to grow up at some point. Each with their own role they had to play in the world.
Her only hope was that when Royce eventually married Miss Putnam, she would rise to the challenge of easing some of his burdens.
Later that evening, after turning down several offers for entertainment, Royce paced in front of the fireplace in his study.
Thanks to his surprise visit, the solicitors finally seemed to take his threats of seeking a different business seriously and sent people almost immediately. The study was not finished, but with the progress they had made, it had become somewhat usable.
“I do not understand what has you in such an uproar,” Aden said, twisting a gold signet ring on his finger. “You got out of asking Della to marry you and agreed to be, what exactly? Bait? A guide to help her draw the attention of someone she might find agreeable to marry?”
“More or less.”
“That should be easy enough. And…you managed to avoid the parson’s mousetrap with Miss Putnam for a short time. All while still being able to enjoy the company of both women.” Aden waggled his eyebrows.
“Do not be crass.”
Aden Carmichael was the first son and only child of the Earl of Jersey, and had been Royce’s closest friend since they had met at Eton. He had been labeled as the Ton’s very own Adonis—the Greek god of beauty and desire—with hair so blond it took on a silvery glow and piercing blue eyes.
So handsome as to be considered pretty, one had to be wary of how long they stared at him lest they become smitten themselves.
“I recall a young lordling who used to think along those same lines.” Aden shrugged. Possessing his looks and that devil-may-care attitude, it was no wonder matchmaking mamas with impressionable daughters steered clear of his path.
“Some of us had to grow up,” Royce grumbled as he paced around his study.
Aden ignored Royce’s jab. Setting his glass on the table as he leaned forward, Aden rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. “If you are asking for my opinion…”
“I do not think I was,” Royce replied sarcastically.
“Oh, you were, otherwise you would not have told me about this at all.”
Royce could not deny what Aden said was true. He was looking for advice to help him get through this situation as quickly and as painlessly as possible.
“If you are asking my opinion,” Aden repeated. “There might be a solution to your problems.”
“And what, pray tell, would that be, exactly?”
Aden got down on one knee before Royce and placed a hand over his heart. “You must marry me instead.”
It was silent for a split second before both men burst into laughter.
“You flatter me, but I would sooner be married to a horse’s arse than married to you.”
“And thus, he fell, as words of rejection speared him through his heart. Argrrgh…” Aden collapsed to the floor in a pretend but very convincing fit of agony.
“So, what is your solution?” Royce asked, helping his friend up from the floor.
“Look.” Aden busied himself brushing out the wrinkles from his coat. “You want to marry Miss Putnam, and fulfill what you promised to Mr. Rowntree, correct?”
“Of course I do!” Royce said defensively, acting as though Aden were mad to think otherwise.
“And marrying for love is out of the question?”
“It is. Miss Putnam and I agreed this would be a marriage of convenience.”
Aden considered Royce for a moment before continuing. “Then your solution is simple.”
“Simple?” Royce looked at Aden as though he had sprouted two heads.
“Allow me to ask Della for her hand.”
The moment of silence that hung between Royce and Aden was palpable. He must have misunderstood. Aden wanted to ask Della to marry him. Royce stood there; his brow furrowed as he contemplated the potential of such a proposition.
“You would ask Della to marry you?” Royce asked, breaking the silence. “You, who chases everything wearing a skirt?”
“I would.” Aden nodded. “Listen, neither of us wants to see Della hurt. I think she and I would scratch along well, considering that I have known her almost as long as you have. It would save me the trouble of having to grace many a ballroom to find a wife who could hold a reasonably intelligent conversation. She is smart, witty, and lovely, inside and out.”
Royce could not disagree with how Aden described Della. She was all those things and more. The sudden admission caused his eyes to widen, and he opened his mouth to respond, only to close it without uttering a word.
He could tell Aden meant what he said about offering for Della and pictured what their life would look like. Aden would wake up every morning with Della in his arms and kiss her every night before they went to bed.
Their older children would frolic in the gardens while they played with their youngest on a blanket beneath a shady tree.
Taking a deep breath, Royce shook his head to erase a future that did not involve him. “There is no allowing. I cannot stop you from asking Della, but I do not know if she would accept.”
“The only way to find out, my friend, is to ask her,” Aden said, as he placed his hat on his head and gave it a light tap. “Well, I am off. I have a meeting at the club I would hate to miss.” Aden winked at Royce, and with a wave of his hand, he swept into an exaggerated bow and quit the room.
Royce made his way over to the sideboard, wondering where the sudden desire to punch something had come from. Finding his drink of choice, he tossed the top over his shoulder and drank straight from the bottle; welcoming the slow burn as it slid down his throat.
He could not think of a logical explanation for the intense irritation he felt at the thought of Aden seeking Della’s hand. Aden was his best friend, and probably the best person to offer for Della out of the men who circulated amongst the Ton. And if Della said yes, there would be nothing to say against the union. But this feeling of uncertainty would not subside.
Sure, Aden had had his share of women, but if he were to marry Della, he would be faithful to her or risk the displeasure of the Rowntree and Derrington families. Royce set the bottle down and leaned against the wall.
Should Della accept the proposal, he would no longer be obliged to pay her attention, having already ensured her a suitable match. But there was no guarantee she would accept.
If she did not, Royce would still be honor-bound to do what he promised.
But if Aden’s solution was so simple and straightforward, why did it leave such a bitter taste in his mouth?
Royce raked his hand through his hair.
Perhaps it was because he utterly disliked the idea of trying to manage someone’s life without their knowledge. He should tell Della, she deserved to know the truth. And since no one else knew about this agreement, aside from Mr. Rowntree, it would be up to him to tell her.
With Aden gone, and his family and servants asleep, Royce grabbed the bottle, and stormed up the stairs, hoping some rest would help bring some clarity to this entire situation.