And that I would approve.
Ididapprove, though I should not have. For the past three days, I had been careful in my interactions with the viscount’s daughter. Where I once would have utilized every spare moment to aggravate her to madness, I instead behaved as the perfect gentleman. Our conversations had kept to polite, idle chatter, and I had not ignited her guarded fury a single time.
It was a horrendous struggle and dreadfully boring.
Everything about Miss Apsley begged me to prod at her sensibilities, begged me to lure her into a battle of words and see that passion she kept so hidden spark to life in her blue eyes. Our exchanges in Town had been exhilarating in a way conversation never had been with anyone else.
And here I was, ignoring the opportunity to vex her simply to earn her affections. I certainly would not earn them if I continued on as we had been in Town, forever poking at one another and throwing insults without restraint.
Except I had been unable to ignore the opportunity Apsley presented tonight. Once aware of the situation, I leaned into his plan and ensured Annette would be required to partake of her dessert, certainly against her will. The glare she speared me with now promised a war of sorts, and I should not anticipate it with such eagerness.
Blast it all, I would have to apologize and smooth things over with her tomorrow, much as I hated the very thought. Was this to be my life now? Forever wishing to irk my prospective wife but never allowing myself? I had promised Lord Paxton during our conversation two mornings ago that I would treat his daughter with the respect that any proper gentleman would. As my wife, she would want for nothing and never feel oppressed.
As my wife.
The words rattled around in my mind and produced an airy sensation in my chest. Not an unpleasant one, as I would have expected, but a heady sort of longing that left me discomfited. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Annette could be as graceful and intelligent as she was beautiful. There was much I appreciated about her, despite our lackluster ability to get along with civility. A man could do worse, certainly. Miss Apsley would not make me a terrible wife.
Especially not if she permits me to kiss her as she did in the alley.
My stomach clenched, as did my jaw. The room suddenly felt too warm, and I averted my gaze from the woman who presently consumed my thoughts and memories. It would not do to linger on that particular exchange, one I still struggled to comprehend. What had started as a typical moment of teasing had developed into something far more dangerous. Adda deserved my focus, and I would not allow Annette, whether as my enemy or my wife, to distract me. Perhaps not even after Adda’s rescue. I would be far too busy pursuing the change I wished to see, leaving me little time to…
Well, my life would simply need to remain dreadfully boring.
Annette and Lady Paxton left the room once dinner was complete, the former with a final glare in my direction. Smoothing things over with the woman would present a challenge, but that challenge would have to wait. Tonight, Lord Paxton had requested that I join him after dinner. Earlier this afternoon, the viscount had sent a note stating he had information for me, and it had required a great amount of restraint to keep myself from racing to his chambers straight away.
Hope swelled within me anew as I offered my regrets for not joining Apsley in the drawing room and made my way upstairs. A soft “enter” echoed from within Lord Paxton’s room, and I pushed the door open gently, reining in my anticipation.
Lord Paxton smiled as I entered and closed the door. He gestured to the chair at his bedside—my chair, as he had come to call it. He had titled a similar piece of furniture the same in his London townhome. I’d spent hours at this man’s side, discussing politics and the Navy. He listened to me in a way my father never seemed to do, and that had endeared me to the viscount right away. Then, our shared opinions and goals kept me coming back.
Viscount Paxton had become something of a mentor to me, but in many ways, I also saw him as a second father. I cared for him, and seeing him so afflicted with a condition both of us knew would never heal pained me. I did not wish to think on the consequences of such an illness—consumption, Lady Paxton had informed me—but it was difficult not to do so each time I visited, noting his pale complexion and frail movements.
“Good evening, Edward.” His voice came out raspy, and I offered him the glass of water on the nearby table. He sipped for a moment before handing the cup back to me and relaxing against his pillows. “Thank you, son.”
Son. Lord Paxton had taken to calling me that ever since I agreed to his offer. I still did not know how I felt about it, for it was an address that filled me with acceptance and warmth…while also reminding me of the impossible task that lay before me. Perhaps even more impossible after tonight.
“How did today fare?” he asked.
He did not wish to know of my fishing trip with his son, nor how the weather had been. Every morning, our conversations began the same way. He wished to know how my courtship with Annette progressed. Thus far, I had only disappointed him.
I rubbed a hand against the back of my neck. “Things have been amicable, but I may have made a blunder tonight. Apsley thought dinner the perfect moment for a lark and requested your cook make currant trifle for dessert. Miss Apsley did not take well to it.”
The viscount barked out a laugh, bringing a smile to my lips. It was good to hear such a hearty sound from him.
“No, I imagine my Annette did not take well to that. She has been particularly against currents for as long as I can remember.” His eyes met mine. “But this sounds like Russell’s doing, not yours.”
I tilted my head from side to side. “Apsley may have told me they were Annette’s favorites. I should have recognized it as a bouncer, but I suppose my mind thought that requesting it with dinner might endear your daughter to me. Naturally, Apsley was happy to offer me a claim in his scheming, unaware of the damage it would cause, and I…” The deep breath I took did nothing to cool the heat that rushed into my face. “I may have insisted that Miss Apsley would offend me if she did not partake of her dessert. Teasing her is the precise opposite of what I need to do, I realize, but the words came out before I could think better of them.”
Lord Paxton, to my surprise, grinned. “You enjoy teasing her.”
“Unfortunately, I am prone to the behavior when it comes to your daughter, and it has become quite the habit.”
“I’m not certain I believe it so unfortunate.” He rested his head against his pillow. “A marriage full of laughter is one that can endure the harshest obstacles. Without it, people drift apart. They struggle to endure the bad times when they come, and make no mistake, those timesalwayscome. Better to face them with a partner than alone.”
A partner? Not once since I arrived here had I ever thought of my future wife, or specifically Annette, as my partner. We would need to get along for that, and such a thing seemed impossible.
“Laughter is well and good,” I said, “but your daughter is not particularly fond of my teasing. I have a great talent for aggravating her. So, you see, if I am to have any hope of obtaining her affections and thereby convincing her to marry me, I must avoid such behavior.”
Lord Paxton hummed in acknowledgment. “I suppose that is one option, and I trust you will find success in whatever approach you decide to take. But let us speak of my reason for summoning you here this evening.”
