It was not only the question but the hint of sharpness to the man’s tone that brought George up short. “I did not mean to suggest that the documents themselves were unclear,” he said,slowly, telling himself to choose his words with great care. “I should have liked to know where they had come from, why they were brought to his attention, and if the authenticity can be verified.”
“I can tell you where they came from.” Lord Turnhill snapped his fingers, and the door behind George opened; the servant came in to bring in a tray of small cakes and another with a decanter of what to George’s mind appeared to be brandy. Momentarily distracted, George forgot what it was he had been asking Lord Turnhill, only for the gentleman to repeat himself again.
“I can tell you where the documents came from,” he said again, rising to his feet to pour them both a measure of brandy into two glasses. “My solicitor found them.”
George blinked, his eyebrows lifting.
“You can imagine my astonishment,” Lord Turnhill continued, handing one glass to George before going to seat himself again. “Here I was in London, trying to find my two daughters a suitable match, only for these papers to be presented to me! And that took care of one of them, did it not?” He chuckled as darkness swam into George’s mind, weighing him down. “Your father was also present in London, much to my relief, so I shared them with him at once. We were not introduced at the time, but he was very gracious indeed.”
A tiny smile plucked at the edge of George’s lips, and he raised his glass to his lips, taking a sip of his brandy. His father, whilst being firm of character and a little short in his way of speaking, had always been gracious and, to George’s mind, considerate and kind. It did not come as a surprise to him to know that Lord Turnhill had found him so.
“Together, we discussed the matter, and he was quite determined to make certain that these documents were genuine. He passed them to his solicitor, and thus, we waited.”
“And it was reported that it was so?”
Lord Turnhill nodded. “Yes, the documents state the truth. Many years ago, your great-grandfather, the Earl of Surrey, took land and property frommygreat-grandfather, Viscount Turnhill. It was an unfair deal, done poorly and without consideration.”
“For which I am very sorry indeed.”
Lord Turnhill waved a hand. “It is not as though this wereyourdoing, Lord Surrey! It is not as if you were in any way responsible yourself, so please, do not place guilt upon your shoulders that you need not feel.”
George tried to smile, but he could not. His heart was beating much too hard, his throat closing up as he waited for Lord Turnhill to finish, to tell George what he already knew was coming up on the horizon.
“The documents stated that in exchange for this land and property, there was not only the money to be given to Viscount Turnhill from the Earl of Surrey, but also a marriage was to take place. A marriage which as yet has not occurred.”
His heart threw itself upwards and then dropped to the floor as George threw back the rest of his brandy, hoping that the heat which tore through him would be enough to keep him composed.
“And which is now duty-bound to take place, to make certain that those lands and property remain in your estate,” Lord Turnhill finished, with a grin that George could not return. “My daughter is amenable to the idea, much to my relief.”
“I am duty-bound, as you have said,” George replied, a little dully. “Your daughter is Miss Burnley, yes?”
“Miss Juliette Burnely,” Lord Turnhill replied, getting to his feet. “I can send for her, if you wish? She has been told to prepare and – ”
“Before that takes place,” George interrupted, hoping that the gentleman would not think him rude, “I must tell you that I will not simply engage myself to your daughter and proceed towards matrimony.”
This brought a heavy frown to Lord Turnhill’s face. “I beg your pardon?” He sat back down, his elbows on his knees, a storm gathering in his eyes.
“It is not to say that I do not trust you,” George said, hastily, “but I must do my own study into these documents. I must know that they are authentic, and I must be shown that the agreement and purchase of these lands was as is written. There will be a record of that somewhere, of course.”
Lord Turnhill’s jaw tightened. “Lord Surrey, whilst I can understand your hesitation, it is not appreciated! These documents have already been given to your solicitors by the hand of your father and they – ”
“They stated all was genuine, I understand that,” George interrupted, gently. “But please understand that for my own peace of mind, I must do the very same thing again. Be assured, however, that my intention is to marry your daughter, as the agreement states. That way, the property and land will remain under my ownership.” He swallowed thickly, for there had been a time when he had thought of returning the land and the property to Lord Turnhill instead of marrying his daughter – but that had not been possible. He had realized that the property had now been leased to an impoverished aunt and her companion, who had resided there for some years and would continue to do so for as long as was desired, and George could not demand that she remove herself from it, not even if he had another place for her to go. She was old and very settled in her house, meaning that he could not bring himself to do such a cruel thing. The land had been another issue, for tenants had their houses built there, and the land around them workedunder their own hands. To return the land would mean that those homes would have to be built elsewhere… and that their own ground, with their own small harvest, would no longer belong to the families he housed there. Again, George had been quite unable to bring himself to do such a thing, knowing just how painful and sorrowful such a demand would be upon his tenants – the very people he was to care for as best he could.
Therefore, his duty had remained clear.
“I will do all that is required of me, of course,” he said as Lord Turnhill scowled, evidently displeased with all that George had said. “Your daughter and I can be courting, mayhap, so that thetonthinks nothing of our engagement, when it takes place.”
Some of the shadows in Lord Turnhill’s eyes cleared. “If you were to do such a thing as that, then the requirement to explain to thetonabout this agreement would disappear completely.”
George nodded. “Indeed, it would. That would be preferable, would it not?”
Lord Turnhill scowled. “It would be preferable, Lord Surrey, if you were simply to engage yourself to my daughter and set the wedding date!” he exclaimed, as George looked away, refusing to have his intentions altered. “But if you will not, then this will have to do.”
“I thank you for your understanding.” Relieved that there had not been the requirement for any sort of discussion – or even an argument – George reached for his glass but found it empty.
“Please, do pour yourself another.” Lord Turnhill rose to his feet and walked across the room to ring the bell. “Let me send for my daughter and you can be introduced to the lady who will, I am quite sure, one day soon become your wife.”
That did not bring George any sort of pleasure. He nodded but did as Lord Turnhill had suggested, going to pour himself another brandy. Whoever this lady was, whatever her characteror her beauty, George knew in his heart that he would never be drawn to her, would never find himself as overwhelmed by her as he was with Miss Williams. If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he did not care for any other –couldnot care for any other – because of his love for Miss Williams, which lingered still.
