Chapter 23
Christopher stood at the fireplace where a small fire was now going. He glanced at the letter in his hand once more and then balled it up in frustration. Tossing it into the fire, he watched as the paper was eaten by the flames.
“Bad news?”
Christopher spun around, surprised to hear his uncle’s voice from behind him. He’d been so lost in thought that he hadn’t even heard him enter.
“Uncle Nestor, I did not know you were home.”
His uncle nodded. “I returned moment ago from the House of Lords. I was saddened to see you not in attendance, once again.”
A feeling of guilt washed over Christopher, for the accusation and the disappointment was evident in his uncle’s voice.
“I meant to go, but I was distracted.”
His uncle took a seat in the armchair and nodded at the fire. “Chilly, are you?”
He shook his head and sat opposite his uncle. “Not particularly. I felt the need to burn a letter.”
“I see.” Nestor crossed his legs and propped his elbow up on the arm of the chair, letting his hand support his head. “You have been in a sullen mood ever since you returned from the vineyard.”
It has been almost two weeks since they had returned. Two weeks that felt like two years, or perhaps two decades.
“I know, Uncle Nestor. I am sorry. It has been vexing.”
“I wish you would confide in me, so I could help. I take it this has to do with the Earl of Hazelshire’s daughter? I heard an official offer has been made by the Duke of Thornmouth. Banns are to be read this Sunday at St. George’s of Hanover.”
Christopher swallowed, the disappointment of the past week threatening to overwhelm him. He leaned back in the arm of the chair, shrugging. This news of the imminent reading of the banns did surprisingly little to change his already sullen mood. He had expected as much.
“Topher?” The use of his childhood nickname drew Christopher out of his thoughts. He glanced at his uncle whose old face was marked with worry. At last, Christopher sighed.
“I did what you advised and made myself indispensable to the Earl. Without Henry and me, he would never be able to make the vineyard profitable. I endeared myself to him, as did Henry. He appeared fond of me. Alas–”
His uncle’s face lit with understanding. “You spoke to him about his daughter, and he was not amenable?”
He nodded, thinking back to the conversation with the Earl with a feeling ofdread.
“I did. I had planned to wait but Thornmouth made an investment in the vineyard without my knowledge and made an official offer. I could not wait. I went to the Earl the very next day, laid out my plan to rebuild my fortune. I confessed that I am moon-eyed over Lady Rowena, and that I would do anything for her. I asked him for her hand.” He shook his head, recalling the Earl’s surprised face, and then his crushing reply.
“He said that he had only wished I had come to him months ago, before Thornmouth began his campaign for Rowena. He wished that I still had my fortune that he might consider declining Thornmouth’s offer. Alas, since I am not currently plump in the purse and Thornmouth has so entwined himself in the Earl’s affairs, he could not grant my request. In addition, he was rather perturbed at my deception.”
So perturbed in fact, that the Earl had cut short their visit to the vineyard. The family had packed their belongings the very next day and returned to London, given Christopher no time to speak to Rowena. The last he had seen of her was when the Earl had ushered her into the carriage the next morning. Since then, they had been able to communicate only via notes, passed back and forth with the help of Henry, Catherine, and Rowena’s loyal housekeeper and maid.
Uncle Nestor nodded. “This is why Henry has been meeting with the Earl in your place of late.”
“The Earl has deemed it best if he conducted business with Henry for the time being, at least until after the wedding. Once Rowena is wed to Thornmouth and has moved to his estate in Cambridgeshire, I may resume visitations with the Earl.”
Christopher nodded. “Uncle, it has been two weeks since I saw her, held her, or kissed her.” He considered his uncle’s face for a moment and then took a deep breath before carrying on. “We were to elope. I was to meet her this evening, at the park.”
His uncle’s eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. “Elope? You planned to take her to Scotland?”
“Gretna Green, yes.”
Uncle Nester’s jaw clamped shut as he sat and took in this news.
“I cannot say I approve. However, if you love one another as you say you do, then perhaps there is nothing else that can be done. Alas, it seems something has gotten in your way.”
Christopher rose, the despair rushing up his spine.
