She raised her eyebrows.
“Itisperfect too,” her mother said, reading the card over her shoulder and looking at her curiously.
“Yes.” Philippa handed the card back to Devlin and turned to look about the room. “So are all these other flowers. People are very kind. It is all a bit overwhelming.”
“I think you had better grow accustomed to it,” her brother said. “And I doubt kindness has much to do with the flower garden that has blossomed in the library here.”
“Come,” Mama said, slipping a hand through Gwyneth’s arm. “Let us go up to the drawing room. I am parched and simply longing for a cup of tea. I daresay we all are.”
Philippa, taking one of Devlin’s arms while he offered the other to Stephanie, wassoglad the card that had come with the single rose—thepeachrose—was unsigned. She was going to have to tell her brother, of course, about the identity of the sender. But not just yet.
—
That same day, Lucas took Jenny to call upon their sister and stayed for a late luncheon. He met an old friend from his Oxford days during the afternoon and spent an agreeable hour fencing with him under the instruction of a skilled swordsman, who declared that the marquess was improving despite the fact that he lost every bout. He rode in the park at the fashionable hour withthe same friend and was pleased to discover that his circle of acquaintances was expanding. He conversed with a number of people and made his bow to others, including several young ladies to whom he had been introduced at last night’s ball. He had even danced with a few of them. He dined with the friend at White’s and went with him to the theater in the evening.
On the following day he went to White’s and then to Jackson’s boxing saloon. He spent the afternoon on a picnic excursion to Richmond Park with a party Lady Abingdon had put together for the amusement of her daughter. It was obvious from the first moment that he was the suitor most favored for Miss Thorpe’s hand. He found himself seated in a carriage with her, her mother, and a male cousin. He had accepted the invitation with the approval of his grandmother, who had listened to his assertion that Lady Philippa was feeling harassed, and had decided rather reluctantly that Lucas ought to widen his net a little while being cautious not to allow himself to get trapped into a marriage that was not entirely to his liking.
Trapped! Not entirely to his liking!
He had not protested. What was the point?
He spent the evening at a soiree hosted by Lord and Lady Patterson, Charlotte’s in-laws. They had been disappointed, Lady Patterson told him at one point in the evening, that the Dowager Countess of Stratton and her daughter had been obliged to excuse themselves because Mr.Charles Ware, the late earl’s brother, and his wife had arranged a dinner to welcome the Earl and Countess of Stratton to town. The earl had apparently been admitted to the House of Lords during the day.
So Lucas now knew that Stratton had arrived in town. The present Stratton, that was. He wondered how long it would be before his grandfather hurried along the next stage of the campaign.It all felt horribly out of control. It was quite impossible to tell His Grace exactly why Lady Philippa Ware would not marry him if he were the last man on earth. It was equally impossible to explain whyhewould not marryher.Even though, of course, he had toyed with the idea in some of his madder moments.
He did not have long to wait for the next step to unfold.
Late the following afternoon, when he returned home from a lengthy session with his tailor, hoping for some time to relax before a private card party he had agreed to attend during the evening, Lucas was summoned to the study. His Grace awaited him there, seated behind the ornate oak desk, though there was nothing upon it apart from a blotter and a bottle of ink and some quill pens. This was to be a formal meeting, then, not a friendly chat by the fire about how their day was going.
“Sit down, Luc.” His grandfather indicated the chair that had been positioned on the far side of the desk, across from him.
Lucas sat.
“Stratton has finally taken his seat in the House of Lords,” the duke said. “He is a former military chap. With the scar to show for it.” He slashed one finger diagonally across his forehead and cheek. “Not the sort of fellow one would want to cross, from the look of him. He seems decent enough, however. We had luncheon together.”
Of course they had. At His Grace’s invitation, no doubt.
“He has been in Wales for the wedding of his wife’s brother,” the duke said. “He has agreed to receive you privately at Stratton House at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
Good God!Already?
“I explained to him,” his grandfather said, “that you have decided this year in light of my advanced age and the unfortunate fact that your father is deceased that it is time to seek a bride of eligiblebirth and breeding. I explained that Her Grace and I have come to town to support you in your search. I informed him that you have an acquaintance with Lady Philippa Ware and that Her Grace has observed that you seem much taken with each other.”
How expert His Grace was at bending the truth, Lucas thought, without ever actually breaking it and outright lying.
“And he explained to me,” the duke continued, “that unavoidable circumstances, including the passing of their father and their grandmother one year apart, prevented his sister from taking her place in society until this year, when she is already twenty-two years of age. She is eager to marry, he informed me, but only to a man of good, steady character who also touches her heart. Stratton does not know you or anything about you except what he heard from me. He does not know if Her Grace’s impression that his sister seems to be taken with you is true or not. He is willing to receive you, however, though he very properly intends to talk first with Lady Philippa to ascertain whether she is open to receiving your addresses. The decision must be hers, he informed me, since he ceased being her guardian, even nominally, when she reached her twenty-first birthday.”
Oh good God, Lucas thought, this was a disaster in the making. There was no way he could now escape this encounter, though. His grandfather had made arrangements with Stratton himself, and the man would be expecting him—unless, that was, Lady Philippa flatly refused to speak with him, as she very possibly would. Perhaps she would even give her brother a good reason for doing so. The truth, for example.
“I will go there tomorrow morning,” he said with an inward sigh.
“I shall expect a betrothal to be imminent, then,” His Grace said, “even if for sheer pride’s sake the lady hesitates over your first proposal and asks for more time. You must see to it that the delayis only days long rather than weeks, though. You are a handsome man, Luc, and a fine figure of a man. You have no known vices. You love your sisters and your niece and nephews. You love your grandmother and treat her with unfailing courtesy. You are capable of great charm when you exert yourself. You did so a few evenings ago when you were waltzing with Lady Philippa, and she was visibly captivated. She is the one, Luc. Never mind about the others Her Grace is keeping in reserve should an alternative become necessary. I expect younot to need any alternative.”
“Unless,” Lucas said, holding open the door of the library to allow His Grace to precede him from the room, “she outright refuses to have me, Grandpapa, and it becomes clear that she is not merely being coy. Or unless her brother expressly withholds his approval of the match after talking with me and refuses even to let me speak with her.”
“Neither is an outcome you will allow to happen,” the duke said. “Always keep in mind that you are mygrandson.”
Yes, that arrogant certainty of his superior place in society had been part of his training, Lucas remembered as he followed his grandfather from the room.
