Chapter Nineteen
JONATHAN WATCHED HIS hoped-for future drive away from him. If their engagement was truly over, he must forget her.
He turned to his sister, offering his arm. “Come, Elizabeth, we can keep each other company with a walk in the garden.”
For the first time in her life, she gave him a look of contempt and silently walked away from him into the house.
Stung by her rejection, he sighed and turned on his heel, heading for his library.
He wandered around the room staring at books and not seeing them.
He was brooding, he knew that. He put up with himself until after luncheon, also spent alone in silence, as Elizabeth had taken to her room with a headache.
Jonathan then did what he hadn’t done since he was young and fresh on the town.
He started drinking. By dinner, again not attended by his sister, he was getting beyond a pleasant blur.
He called on his butler to bring the usual after-dinner port, meant for sharing with friends, and drank steadily into the night.
He woke late the next morning, sprawled in a wing chair in the library with the roaring headache he knew he deserved. He opened the door and yelled for his butler, who arrived promptly. “Coffee, and quickly,” he ordered, then winced at the sound of his own voice.
It was a testament to his poor condition that when the coffeepot arrived a few minutes later, he looked up at the butler, who had served the family for twenty years without ever seeing the “young master” in such a condition, and snapped at him.
“About time, and get that disapproving look off your face.”
Several cups later, Jonathan was feeling somewhat better—enough to leave his resting place and contemplate climbing the stairs to his bedchamber to be washed, shaved, and dressed for riding. His valet tut-tutted. Upon seeing Jonathan’s frown, the man silently restored him to usual neat appearance.
An hour later, on his way to the stables, Jonathan stepped into the cold day, and his hazy brain suddenly became crystal clear from the shock.
He had a stable full of horses that needed exercise after the long cold spell.
He would ride each and every one of them until he got over the pain of losing Jane. That, and the ache in his head.
He had hoped that Jane would have relented by the morning after their disagreement.
In hindsight, that was expecting too much of a woman of strong personality and definite views.
A major part of the problem was the idea that by his marrying her, Jane’s stance on women’s rights would be brought into disrepute and her cause harmed.
She had heard the idea from Marchmere via her sister, but how could she believe that he would do such a thing? He did want to perform well in the House, but he wouldn’t jeopardize his future happiness to do it. Hadn’t he proven his love for her by words and deeds?
Reaching the courtyard of the brick stables, he called for his groom to saddle up his hunter. A dozen horses looked out of their stalls at him with interest. The tall gray gelding danced around the cobbled yard as the groom brought him forth, fresh from days of idleness.
Within minutes they were heading across the park toward the lake, Jonathan’s mind momentarily occupied by controlling the excited horse, which was keen to travel much faster than a collected canter.
By the time they had passed the classically inspired gazebo at the far end of the lake, his mount was completely under control and Jonathan could return his attention to his problems. There was probably nothing he could do to prove that Marchmere’s claim was false.
Perhaps all he could do was present the facts of the situation and explain how Marchmere might have presumed that Jonathan had taken his advice.
Jane’s own brother, William, had been present at the club that day.
He could at least pinpoint the date of the conversation and prove that Jonathan had been introduced to her before the suggestion.
He would contact Jane’s brother, who was probably already working for Lord Stacy.
Would Jane be convinced? He feared not. It was all he could do for now.
He turned his horse for home, choosing a path that took them around the other side of the cold lake, wrinkled with melting ice.
At the stable, Jonathan unsaddled his horse and handed the reins to one of the stable boys. He sent the groom off to fetch another of his rangy hunters, full of unexpended oats and bursting to gallop. The fresh air and purposeful exercise was doing him good.
Later, astride the subdued horse, Jonathan considered the other part of the dispute with Jane—his sister’s marriage to Logan.
He didn’t dislike Logan at all. He was a worthy man, certainly not a fortune hunter, and his regard for Elizabeth was sincere. However, there was wide disparity in their rank.
Elizabeth’s Season last year had been marred by her poor health. Aunt Lucinda, who had supervised Elizabeth’s coming out, would put on a real turn if he allowed Elizabeth’s engagement to Logan before Elizabeth had enjoyed the full benefits of a Season.
If Logan and Elizabeth waited until after the end of the Season and her coming of age, he would be satisfied by her constancy.
And their aunt would not be able to say that Elizabeth had taken the first man who looked at her—even if she did complain about her marrying down.
The disparity in their ranks and means would always be a barrier, Jonathan feared, and one that might make certain members of society turn up their noses at the match.
Jonathan wished he had seen the proposal coming. He would have been more prepared with a considered response. He had been too wrapped up in his own affairs to notice the romance between his sister and his friend.
Too late now for might-have-beens.
He could stubbornly let his decision stand or he could go to his sister, his only and very dear sibling, and try to convince her that although immediate agreement wasn’t possible, a short wait of six months should bring the result she wanted.
If she still wanted Logan after a full Season of society events and meeting all the eligible bachelors, then she could have him.
Jonathan turned his mount for home. His stomach had settled. Eating breakfast... make that luncheon... now seemed a possibility. If Elizabeth didn’t join him for the meal, he would visit her sitting room and talk with her.
When he entered her rooms later that afternoon, Elizabeth looked pale and unwell.
Jonathan did what he should have done previously and explained his strategy carefully.
“By the end of the coming Season, you will be of age and have experienced everything the social round can show you, and be much more able to know that Logan is the right man for you. I am not looking, and never have looked for a society match for you if you don’t want that.
” As he spoke, he could see Elizabeth’s hope returning.
“Aunt Lucinda is, though, so we must carefully play our cards. You must not hang on Logan’s sleeve, but take part in all the social events she thinks you ought attend. ”
He made his final words severe. “If you choose Logan, you will be choosing a man who has to work for his living, and that will mean that you have to allow him time to do that. He won’t be at your beck and call for social events as a gentleman of leisure might.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Jonathan, that is part of his attraction—he has a profession that takes him out to do good in the world. I am willing to support that. It was through our interest in helping people that we first became aware of each other.”
Jonathan, reassured by her words, left her to write the news to Dr. Logan. However, he was still estranged from Jane. Reconciling with her would not be as easily solved.