“Yes, as to that, Chelsea was able to learn that Mrs. Crell will be departing soon for the country, in advance of her husband. They’ve been packing up her things and she is eager to leave and settle in with the new staff.”
“Eager? Are you quite sure? She sounded a little reluctant when I spoke to her. She didn’t want to be alone in the countryside.”
Darius frowned slightly. “That may be true, and it is possible that Dobbs wouldn’t want to make his mistress appear unhappy about the move, but she is leaving. He said he was just seen to her breakfast when Mr. Chelsea had passed him on the street. As to the empty bedchamber, it seems that given the marital discord between Louis and Minerva, they have not been sharing a bedchamber in years. Louis sleeps on the opposite side of the house.”
Darius did not have to point out to her how rational that explanation was for everything she’d seen, but she couldn’t shake the sense that something was still…not right. Perhaps it was just that she knew Mrs. Crell was unhappy and was likely to be more unhappy in the country. There was little Meredith could do for the woman once she left London.
Turning to the butler, she met the man’s gaze. “Thank you so much for inquiring about Mrs. Crell and her health, Mr. Chelsea, I deeply appreciate it.”
The butler’s eyes softened on her. “Of course, Miss Montague.”
She and Darius talked about their plans for the day and how he wanted to take her to Gunter’s for a flavored ice soon. Delighted at the thought of spending time with Darius, she eagerly agreed to the plans. They were in the middle of a rather exciting discussion of gothic novels when a footman left the house and stepped out onto the terrace.
Mr. Chelsea received a silver tray from the approaching footman. “A letter has come for you, Miss Montague.” He offered the tray to Meredith. She picked up the letter and gasped. It bore the Prince Regent’s royal seal.
Darius leaned forward. “Is that what I think it is?”
“I believe it is.” Her hands trembled as she broke the seal and read the letter.
Dear Miss Montague,
I hope last night’s festivities have left you excited to see more of London. I have made some inquiries regarding the matter we discussed at Lady Hazlitt’s ball. Once I have news, you will hear from me at once.
The prince had scrawled his name beneath his message.
“Heavens,” said Meredith.
“Good heavens or bad heavens?” Darius asked with a teasing glint in his blue eyes which were as clear as a summer sky today. She was coming to learn his moods through how the color changed.
“I… I believe good heavens.” She paused, considering her next words carefully.
“Oh?” Darius sipped his tea, then picked up his newspaper where Mr. Chelsea had thoughtfully set it out for him.
“It seems the Prince of Wales wishes to aid me in my efforts to find a husband.”
“What?” Darius, who had been about to peruse his paper, now cast it aside. “Truly?”
“Yes…” Perhaps it hadn’t been wise to mention the prince’s intentions.
Darius’s eyes darkened a little. “While his aid is appreciated, I shall have the final say in who you marry.”
The finality in his tone sparked a flare of anger in her. “Shouldn’t I have the final say?” Meredith straightened her back, eyeing him stiffly. “Seeing as how I shall be trapped with the man, not you?”
Darius’ eyes darkened, but he didn’t appear upset. Rather, she thought she detected a faint appreciation of her defiance. His gaze turned thoughtful. “Do you see marriage as a trap?”
“No, I don’t, not exactly, but…” But marriage to anyone but you would feel like a trap, she silently added. Out loud, she edited her thoughts. “Any marriage to the wrong person would feel like a trap.”
She considered how she’d been sitting up on his lap last night, kissing him. Now here they were, calmly discussing her marriage to another man. Did he not care at all? Then again, how could he? Men were driven by their desires, and their fates were not tied to marriage the way a woman’s was. How could he understand that those kisses meant everything to her if they meant nothing to him?
“On that, we agree.” He took another sip of his tea. “What do you seek in a man then?”
“Someone kind… Someone who enjoys learning, a man who would not mind sharing himself with me and letting me share myself with him. I would like to be on an equal footing in my marriage, but…” Her fingertips slid over the note from the prince as she suddenly frowned. “Given the circumstances of my birth, such a thing might not be possible.” That simple truth was the source of her deepest misery.
“If it is not, then you shall not marry,” Darius declared as if that settled the matter.
Meredith paused in her eating to stare at him. “But…I must marry.”
“Why? You could accept my support for the remainder of your life.”
