The other old gentleman gazed genially at him—with perhaps a thread of steel behind the mild eyes.
“I did,” he confessed—no point in lying and pretending to have hadsixeagle-eyed grooms all clinging to the back of his curricle to play chaperone. “I hope, sirs, to ask your granddaughter during tomorrow night’s ball to honor me with her hand in marriage. I would like the blessing of both of you before I do so.”
It had occurred to him last night that this was perhaps something he ought to do. Less laudably, it had also occurred to him that she might look more kindly upon his suit if he had their blessing.
A third thing that had occurred to him, of course, was that they might be very familiar indeed with the name ofWhitleaf,and that he might be dooming his hopes to a horrible dashing if he approached them thus.
The Reverend Clapton beamed at him from his chair by the fire.
The colonel frowned fiercely at him from his stance by the desk.
“Why?” he barked. “Why do you wish to marry our granddaughter?”
“I have conceived a deep affection for her, sir, “Peter said.
“Even though she was a dowerless nobody when you did it?” the colonel asked him, and Peter felt sorry for all the soldiers who had served under this man—theirs must not have been a comfortable life.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
“Then you are a fool, Whitleaf,” the old man said.
Peter raised his eyebrows.
“If loving Miss Osbourne for herself makes me a fool, sir,” he said, “then I can only plead guilty.”
“Which you must confess, Clarence,” the clergyman said in a mild voice, “is an excellent answer. I would be inclined to give my blessing without further ado.”
“Hmm,” the colonel said, and it suddenly occurred to Peter that the man was enjoying himself. “Well, she isn’t a dowerless nobody, Whitleaf. She is a not inconsiderable heiress. What do you have to say to that?”
“That it is very pleasant for Miss Osbourne, sir,” Peter said, “but that it has no effect whatsoever on my feelings for her.”
“And what doyouhave to offer her, young man, apart from your affections, which may come cheap for all I know?” the colonel asked.
And Peter understood that they had entered the marriage negotiation phase of the conversation. His suit, he guessed, had been granted.
So he had won the approval of two elderly gentlemen.
That, he supposed, though, was going to be the easy part.
25
No one could remember the time when the last grand entertainmenthad been held at Sidley. For days the neighborhood had been buzzing with the news that there was finally to be a ball there, and on Christmas Day of all days. It seemed like a special gift from the young viscount.
He had always been liked and admired from afar. It had always been said that he was warmer, more human, than the viscountess, his mother. And now they were convinced of it. He had delivered the invitations personally and had begged everyone to come, to join his family and friends in a great celebration of the season—as iftheywere the ones doinghima favor.
No one would have missed the ball for any consideration whatsoever. Anticipation of the moment when they might decently leave for Sidley overshadowed all other observances of Christmas, even the morning church service and the dinnertime goose.
It was much the same at Sidley itself, though there was an afternoon party for the children in the drawing room hosted by the viscount and attended by many of their parents while most other adults rested in their rooms in preparation for the evening’s revels.
The house was lavishly decorated with holly and pine boughs and ribbons and bells and a Yule log in the drawing room. There was also a large and intricately woven kissing bough there—the creation of three of the viscount’s sisters—suspended from the center of the ceiling and the focus of much interested attention and stifled giggles after its appearance there late on Christmas Eve.
The house was filled too with enticing Christmas smells, even late in the day, long after the goose and the plum pudding had been cleared away from the dining room table. The smell of mince pies was the most dominant, but there was too the spicy aroma of the wassail, which was to fill the huge bowl in the refreshment room as soon as the ball began.
Peter enjoyed the day even though he had rarely spent a busier one. He was genuinely fond of all his sisters and brothers-in-law and nieces and nephews, and he found all the other guests congenial company. He was particularly delighted by the romance that appeared to be developing between one of Barbara’s young brothers-in-law and Miss Flynn-Posy. Whether the lady’s mother was equally delighted was unclear, but that was not his concern.
His own mother proved remarkably resilient. She showed no traces of the upset she had suffered two evenings ago. She spoke of the ball to everyone with an enthusiasm that suggested it had always had her full approval. She had even begun to speak out during the past two days about setting up a home for herself in London before the spring Season began so that she might enjoy more social life.
“It is high time,” she told Lady Flynn-Posy and Barbara and Belinda. “Peter is quite old enough now to fend for himself.”
