Chapter One
"Grandmamma is lonely," Constance said, sitting opposite her sister over dinner that evening. Her father sat at the head of the table, as he always did – although the table seemed rather large for just three of them. Still, the Earl of Basingstoke liked to do things properly, and so this was how they sat.
"My mother chose to go and live in the middle of nowhere in Northumberland," Papa said, with a sigh. "I told her it made no sense, but she made the decision – and so, if she is lonely, then I am afraid she only has herself to blame."
"Ah!" Constance said, shock colouring her tone. "You don't mean that."
"Well, I don't mean exactly that. And of course we will go to visit her. But after the Season – not now, when everything is about to begin."
"I am looking forward to the first ball of the Season, at Lady Woodbridge’s," her sister, Charity, said with a grin. "It's always so exciting when everything starts again, don't you think, Constance?"
"No, I do not," Constance said. "You know full well that I do not enjoy the Season like you do. It's very repetitive – and dull, if truth be told. After three of the wretched things, I would much rather be in Northumberland, even if there's no society up there."
"You only want to be there so you can explore the castles again," Papa said. "But we went purposely for you to do just that – and now it is time to be in London."
"It's not just about the castles," Constance said with a sigh, although they certainly were a large part of the appeal of the area. She had loved castles and their history for as long as she could remember, and Northumberland boasted the highest concentration of castles in the country.
But there was also a desire to miss the infernal Season, and all of that sitting and listening to music, bowing and dancing with the same gentlemen, and waiting to see if anyone would call on you.
She hated it.
"I don't understand the point of the Season," Constance muttered under her breath – but apparently not quietly enough, for her father immediately chimed in, "To find a husband, Constance. That is the point of the Season."
"Well, yes, I know that. But I'm not sure how likely that is, after three Seasons. And I'm not sure how concerned I am."
"You should be at least a little concerned, I think," her father said softly.
"But it is not as though we don't have the money, so I don't need to desperately marry so that I can be comfortable. And since neither of us is a boy, the title won't go to us anyway – so me having an heir is null and void."
"But what if you do not want to be alone forever?" her father said. "Your sister wants to marry – why, she had two proposals last Season, although she deigned to turn them down."
"I shall marry for love," Charity said with a romantic sigh. "But yes, I fully intend to marry."
"And I will not be around forever. You know my nephew will inherit the title and this house. So yes, you could livecomfortably, there's no doubt about that. But you would be alone…" He cut his meat thoughtfully, before continuing.
"I don't want you to think I'm being cruel, my dear. I want you to be happy, and I certainly would not push you into a marriage you did not want. Or even make you continue with the farce of the Season, if I did not think that you would be happier in the long run if you wed."
"I know you are not being cruel, dear Papa," she said with a smile, and had the table been smaller, she would have reached over and squeezed his hand. "And perhaps next year, things will be different. But Grandmamma is lonely this year, and I really, really don't want to stay here for the Season. Please, Papa?"
He was quiet for a moment, clearly deliberating, and then he said, "You will have to take a maid with you to travel. And you know your grandmother – you cannot be sure she will not insist on you accompanying her to at least some social functions. It won't be all castles and reading."
Constance nodded enthusiastically, a smile immediately coming to her lips. "Of course, Papa. But spending the rest of the year in Northumberland… oh, I can already feel how happy it will make me. Thank you, thank you. You won't regret this – I promise."
???
"Your mother is here, my lord," Soames the butler said with a bow of his head.
Ezra, Earl of Gracewood, frowned. "Now? I'm not even finished with breakfast. What on earth is she doing here so early?"
"Shall I say you are not at home to visitors, my lord? I did mention how early it was…"
Ezra sighed. "No. You know my mother wouldn't accept that. Send her in – and some more coffee, too. I have a feeling I'm going to need it."
"Of course, my lord."
It wasn’t long before his mother, the Dowager Countess, entered with a frown upon her face. "Really, Ezra. Soames felt the need to remind me how early it was. Me! When this was my home for more years than it has been yours! And I know you would never refuse me entry, so why he thinks—"
"Soames is only doing his job, Mother," Ezra said with a weary sigh. His mother had indeed reigned over the house for longer than Ezra. She had lived there until his father, the old Earl of Gracewood, had died, and then had remained once Ezra had taken the seat, until he had married and Laura had taken her place as countess.
