Mrs. Beasley glowered at him. “All the expenses are to be billed to you?”
Not much of a question, really. “Of course,” he answered amicably.
And then Victoria yawned behind a fan she’d been holding. “Springtime is a long way off. One never knows…”
“I will be counting the days.” He performed some mental calculations before adding, “Around 298, or thereabouts, if my guess is correct?”
Mrs. Beasley clucked her tongue.
Victoria shook her head, but Gabriel made out a barely perceptible grin.
“Will you do me the honor of joining me for a drive through the park this afternoon?” Ah, yes. There it was. A full smile.
“As long as it’s not one of those high-flying vehicles.” And then she chuckled. “I’ll be counting the hours.”
* * *
“A spring weddingat St. George’s,” Gabriel announced when his mother glanced up from the book she’d been reading before he barged in unannounced. The gratified smile he expected never came, however. Instead, his mother frowned.
“Must the two of you wait so long? What if another relative knocks off? I’d think Miss Shipley would have been more practical in selecting the date.” His mother stared at him intently. “I do hope she’s not considering crying off. This is something both your fathers wanted for so very long.”
Gabriel dropped into a large wing-backed chair and crossed his legs. “She’s not considering crying off. If she doesn’t marry, she’ll be stuck with that ghastly aunt of hers for life.”
Given the choice, he would have much preferred to have the wedding over and done with, but since Victoria had her mind set on the full regalia of a spring wedding in London, who was he to disappoint her? The poor girl had had a horrid time of it over the past few years. “Absolutely insists upon the additional time to plan. And, of course, you and Prissy will want to help organize…” he twirled one hand in the air, “…all the things that need organizing. Say, where is Prissy, after all?”
His only sister, also his youngest sibling, had made her come out two years ago at the age of eighteen, and he’d only run across her a few times since returning. She wasn’t the same gangly girl she’d been when he had left for his travels two years before.
“She and Miss Ayles are taking in the sights at the Tower with Lord Lockley today. I do believe he’s considering offering for her.”
“Lockley, eh?” From what Gabriel remembered, the marquess was nearly a decade older than Gabriel and considerably more experienced than his sister. If his memory served him right, the man was quite popular amongst London’s most popular brothel madams. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but he’d continued his patronage throughout his marriage. Not the sort one wanted for one’s sister, that was for certain. “A little old for Prissy, don’t you think?”
His mother shrugged. “He seems a little quiet for her, but he’s handsome, and although he’s only been widowed little more than a year, very sought after.”
Gabriel rubbed his chin, determined to do a little asking around.
“Your brothers haven’t brought forth any objections.” His mother picked up some knitting and busily worked her needles with what appeared to be little effort. She’d always had a book, or sewing, or something to keep her occupied.
“I can imagine how a pup like Nathaniel would be balled over by Lockley, but I’m surprised Gilbert would approve very handily.” Gabriel’s two younger brothers could hardly be more opposite than one another in nature. Nathaniel was more apt to use his charm and boyish good looks to get by in life, while Gilbert relied upon good sense and skepticism. Prissy fell somewhere in between.
As the oldest, Gabriel had done his best to keep the peace amongst them all.
“Perhaps if you remain in Town for a while, you can come to know the man himself. Prissy is quite taken with him.”
Before taking it upon himself to travel the Continent, living in London had more than suited Gabriel’s needs. Entertainments abounded in the form of his clubs, government affairs, horse racing, cards… the occasional high-end brothel if he failed to attach himself while visiting the green room… But none of it held the same appeal this time around.
Already, he was feeling restless.
Useless.
Sitting in his mother’s favorite parlor, the prospect of utilizing most of his time for leisure held little appeal.
Not that he had any desire to involve himself ever again in Crawford’s mining operations, but he was beginning to believe he was a man who needed to participate in activities that had more purpose—not just more purpose—butanypurpose at all. Neither he nor his mother made much use of Sky Manor, located about an hour from Ashton Acres, since his father’s passing.
“Not sure how long I’ll remain in Town, Mother. I’m of a mind to make a visit to Sky Manor before the season ends.”
“Sky Manor?” She’d dropped her needles and studied him closely, but then began nodding slowly. “That sounds like a lovely idea.”
He’d not expected her to be so pleased with his imminent departure.
