Heavy footsteps sounded upon the stair.
Bryony’s heart sank.
“What’s this uproar?” called Bryony’s father in irritation. “Can’t a man have any peace and quiet in his own home?”
Mother positioned herself between her husband and her daughter, her gaze focused tight on Bryony. “Weareimportant to you?”
“You’re family,” Bryony said simply. “I’m simply trying to add to it. You were the one who threatened to cut me off for following my heart.”
Mother swallowed. “I wanted you to do as I asked, not agree to be cut off. The house will be empty enough without you in it. I never wished to lose you from my life completely.”
“What’s happening?” Father demanded impatiently. He narrowed his eyes at Max. “Why is he here?”
“To ask for your daughter’s hand,” Max said, his voice polite and calm.
Father’s brow creased in confusion. “My Bryony? Wed the Lord of Vice?”
Bryony tightened her hold on Max’s hand. “I love him. With or without your blessing, we—”
“They’ll run off to Gretna Green and we’ll never see them again,” Mother interrupted in a burst, the words tripping over each other. “He doesn’t want the dowry. He wants our daughter, and she wants him.”
Father stared at her in disbelief. “Are you saying you agree to the match?”
Bryony held her breath, her heart beating triple-time.
“I’m saying she’s our daughter,” Mother said at last. “Family doesn’t turn its back on family.”
“Would you come to the wedding?” Bryony asked, not daring to hope. “If Max and I didn’t elope?”
Mother turned toward the baron. “If your father gives permission.”
In that moment, Bryony realized her mother was asking on behalf of all of them. Permission for Max to ask for Bryony’s hand, permission for Bryony to accept, permission for herself as both a mother and a baroness to support the match and be happy for her child. Permission to be present at her daughter’s wedding.
“Very well,” Father said, with a glance at his pocketwatch. “I’ll summon you after the contracts have been drawn up.”
He immediately turned and headed back upstairs toward his study.
Bryony wasn’t hurt at the abrupt dismissal. She was shocked that her father had spared this much time for her at all, and over the moon that the answer had been yes.
She leaned against Max’s powerful frame. “Do you mind a traditional wedding?”
“My sister would kill me if I robbed her of the opportunity to design the perfect trousseau for both of us,” he admitted. “A few weeks of banns should be just enough time.”
Mother’s eyes shone with interest. “Your sister is a modiste? Dreadful that she should be in trade, but I do love being the first to know about these things. Is she particularly gifted?”
“Only the most talented seamstress in all of London,” Bryony replied, knowing full well her mother was unable to resist portraying herself as the height of fashion. With a reputation like that, Mother would be dying for an introduction, even if her pride would not yet allow her to admit it.
Bryony grinned to herself. Perhaps in the future, the Cloven Hoof would not be the only locale to feature gatherings of a diverse range of classes and gender and backgrounds.
Perhaps going forward, inclusivity could even start at home.
Chapter 28
Two weeks later
The day the first banns are read
Now that the Season was no longer in full swing and no more musicales were on the horizon, Bryony’s mother had turned her attentions to starting a new family tradition. Annual gatherings featuring one dinner, both parents, and all of the siblings.
