“I know enough about them by reputation, though. I know everything you’ve told me about them. And I can tell you that there’s nothing to be worried about,” Reeves said. “I promise you, nothing is at risk for you today. This might be uncomfortable or unpleasant, but in a few hours, you and I will walk away from this house, and everything will be just as it is right now. We’ll be able to begin planning our wedding.”
“What if my father doesn’t give us his blessing?” Bridget asked.
“Then we’ll do it without his blessing,” Reeves said easily. “Nothing could change my mind about wanting to marry you, Bridget. I agree that we should speak to your father first for thesake of propriety, but I don’t need his permission. I fully intend to marry you, no matter what he has to say on the subject.”
A small smile crossed Bridget’s face, and Reeves felt a sense of relief at the fact that he had been able to give her that. For too many years, Bridget hadn’t been able to rely on anyone but herself. Now she was his, and he would see to it that she always knew she had someone she could count on to care for her. She’d never be on her own again.
The carriage door opened, and Reeves stepped down and held up a hand to help Bridget down after him. Turning back toward the estate, he saw a short, wiry man who must have been Bridget’s father standing in the door. He frowned. The man looked nothing like Bridget. Rather than her honey-colored hair and piercing blue eyes, he had black hair like a bristle brush and coal-dark eyes. Instead of her earnest features, his were narrow and made him look conniving.
Reeves took an instant dislike to the man, but he drew a breath and forced himself to set that aside. Today was about doing his best to make a good impression on Bridget’s family for her sake. He could despise them later.
He took Bridget’s arm and walked up the path to greet her father. “Baron Stonemere,” he said. “Thank you so much for your hospitality today. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
The baron’s eyes narrowed. “So, you’re the Duke of Greystone I’ve heard so much about, are you?”
“Have you heard a great deal about me?” Reeves asked. He glanced at Bridget.
“I did mention you in my letter to my parents, of course,” she said. “They had to know why I was coming and who I was bringing with me. But I wouldn’t have said it was an excessive amount of information. I told them that I had become engaged to a gentleman who wished to seek their blessing. I mentioned your title and your service record, and they know about Emma. But that’s all I said.”
“Well, you could hardly expect us to leave it atthat,” the baron said. “Did you think your mother and I would accept the idea of our only daughter marrying someone we know nothing about? Of course, we had to look into it and try to find out all we could about him. We asked everyone we know what they’d heard.” His eyes narrowed. “Not a very flattering picture, I must say.”
“I might’ve known there would be gossip,” Bridget murmured, her grip on Reeves’ hand tightening.
“You don’t need to worry about this,” he said, bending his head close so that he could whisper in her ear. “Remember, when we leave, we’ll go back to our family. You and me and Emma—that’s the family that matters.”
He knew that Bridget did mind, though, just as he would have been upset if someone had spoken ill of her to him.
He turned his attention back to the baron. “Of course I understand that you’d want to make sure your daughter ismarrying someone worthy of her,” he said. “I would want the same thing.”
“Yes, I heard you have a young daughter,” the baron said, turning to lead the way into the house. “If you want someone to help you raise her, why not simply hire a governess? Surely that would be easier for you than taking my daughter on as an additional responsibility. You can’t possibly imagine the amount of effort that will go into caring for Bridget full-time. She’s not a very easy young lady, you know. If you expect her to mind what you say, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”
“I’ve known Bridget for some time now, and I can say with confidence that she has never disappointed me,” Reeves said. “Nor do I ask that she mind me in any sense of the word. Bridget is a young lady who knows her own mind and heart very well. It’s one of the things I admire most deeply about her, and I certainly wouldn’t want it to change. And for that matter, I’ve never felt as if I’ve had to care for her. She cares formeas much as I do for her.”
“Well, I suppose that’s all the time she’s spent at that orphanage coming out in her,” the baron mused. “It has to have had some sort of impact. Ah, here is my wife, the Baroness Stonemere. Bridget’s mother. Cecilia, this is the Duke of Greystone.”
“Yes, I can see that, Solomon,” the baroness said. Though Reeves had guessed she would look like Bridget, he managed to be taken by surprise. She did resemble her daughter, but it was like looking at a vision of Bridget from a bad dream. There was no softness in her, no kindness. It was impossible to imagine herasking anyone what she might do to help them. Her mouth was pinched, and though she had Bridget’s dark blue eyes, they were empty of feeling.
Right now, she was narrowing her eyes in Reeves’ direction. “Mary was telling the truth about him, wasn’t she?”
Reeves had anticipated something like this from the moment he’d heard they had sought gossip about him. “Whoever Mary is, I imagine she told you to expect the scars on my face. Am I right?”
The baroness showed no signs of embarrassment or remorse at having been called to account for what she’d been hinting around. “It does make sense of things,” she said evenly.
“Does it? Pray tell.”
“I did wonder, when I received Bridget’s letter, what might have happened to suddenly entice a duke to take an interest in my daughter, when no one has before,” the baroness said. “I wonder if Bridget has told you how hard we worked to find her a match, only to fail again and again. Every time we tried, we were forced to face the facts all over again—our daughter seemed to be unfit for marriage. So, you can imagine our surprise to see her here now on the arm of a duke. Of course, our first thought was that perhaps she had entrapped you in some way! But now I can see that you must have had just as much trouble finding a suitable match as she did. I don’t mean to say that you are unbecoming, Your Grace,” she added. “But when a man lacks… conventional handsomeness… he must wonder whether a ladyis only interested in something else about him. His money, perhaps. I can assure you that isn’t the case with our Bridget. She never had that much interest in fine things. I’m sure you’re aware she’s been living at an orphanage for the past year.”
“I was aware of that, yes,” Reeves agreed darkly. “It’s my understanding that she was no longer welcome at your home?”
“Well, you could hardly expect us to keep her here forever,” the baron said, as if he were stating the most obvious fact in the world. “A man expects his daughter to leave his house as she grows up, not to linger under his roof for the rest of her days. It was certainly not as dramatic as you’re making it seem, Your Grace, but once we had determined she was unlikely to marry, we did encourage her to seek her fortune elsewhere. And I must say, I think she did quite well for herself, finding that orphanage. The vicar there has told me she’s very handy. I daresay they’ll miss her once you take her away from them.”
It was obvious to Reeves that the baron was twisting the facts, distorting things to make him seem more innocent than he was. He had no time for those sorts of antics. “Lord Stonemere,” he said, “I came here today to seek your permission to marry your daughter. By the sounds of things, I’d say you would be only too happy to give your blessing, since it sounds like you would like to see Bridget married. Would I be right in thinking that?”
“Perhaps you and I ought to discuss these matters privately,” the baron suggested. “As gentlemen.”
“No, I don’t think we need to.” Reeves heard the stoniness in his voice, and he felt no regret for it. “I have no intention of keeping secrets from Bridget, so whatever you say to me, you are as good as saying to her anyway. And I know that I don’t have anything to say that I wouldn’t want her to hear.”
“It’s just that I wouldn’t want her coming back to me after a few months, when you’ve tired of her,” the baron explained. “You may feel fond of her now, Your Grace, but do remember that I’ve known my daughter longer than you have and I know how difficult she can be. I think we should speak about that before I give you my blessing, just so I can be sure you’re committed to what you’re taking on here.”
