“In his fashion. What does this have to do with our discussion about Miss Charnock?”
“It doesn’t, I suppose. And yes, I know my obligations . . . except recently, Mother, I feel as if I stand at the edge of an abyss and one step might destroy me. Not other men—me.”
“I’ve never known you to be given to foolishness.”
“Perhaps I never had a reason to before.”
She frowned, took a deep breath, released it, and then said, “I’ve always admired Fyclan. When he and I kept company, I found I cared deeply for him . . . except he will always love his wife. She has been gone several years and still he loves her. Oh, he was kind and considerate when he was with me but the heart of him belonged to her and would never be mine.”
There was a moment of silence and then she said, “In truth, I cared too much for Fyclan to be able to breathe in his wife’s shadow. Lord Kent—” she referred to her current escort “—is also a widower but he doesn’t pine for what he once had. He holds me in high regard.”
“Do you feel the same?”
“I am happy,” she pronounced with a touch of defiance. “We suit each other. Fyclan will never let go of Jenny. Some men are that way. I will never be what she was to him. And now,” she continued, opening the door, “I have appointments. I will let you know what date the Charnocks choose to announce the betrothal. Oh, and may I say, I wish you would hire a new secretary. It is tiresome communicating with you since you gave Talbert the sack.”
“I shall, Mother.”
He half expected her to flee the room then, but she didn’t. Instead, she looked back at him. “Gavin, don’t think overmuch on love. It has nothing to do with marriages of our class. Remember that, my son.”
She left the room.
Chapter Seventeen
Don’t think overmuch on love.
His mother’s advice haunted Gavin.
She was right in that any discussion he’d ever heard about suitable marriage partners, love was never one of the qualities mentioned. A successful marriage was one that met the needs of the Great Houses and ensured the dynasties would be preserved.
In fact, he had never considered the true nature of the word “love” before—not relative to himself. He had an idea about what love looked like. He had given his blessing to Ben to marry Elin because they were in “love.” He had stepped aside from Lady Charlene because she and Jack “loved” so deeply, they would defy convention.
Yes, he’d seen love. He’d not experienced it.
He now found himself trying to piece his thoughts about love together.
Ben and Elin served as a good example. He’d never known his younger brother to be so happy. Or productive. Ben’s star was rising fast in the War Office. He was a respected, stable, and considered administrator, something he definitely had not been before Elin. She brought out the best in him. Even Ben, happily, gave her full credit for his success.
It was the same with Jack and Charlene. They belonged together. Gavin had been furious that his twin had claimed his bride. He had considered his brother’s behavior traitorous. Everyone in society had known that Gavin had set his sight on Charlene.
And yet, once Gavin was in their company, he realized it would have been almost cruel to separate her from Jack, even if he could. He’d had to swallow his pride, let them marry; he had even paid for the wedding breakfast.
Because they were in love.
Late that afternoon, he found himself at the Bishop’s Hill Theater. He took a chair in the rear of the theater.
Sarah did not know he was there. She was busy on stage with her actors. She was full of authority and exercised it very well, he had to note. He enjoyed watching her move on the stage. Her every gesture was grace.
His favorite moments were when a new idea struck her and her eyes came alive with possibility. Even at home, he would catch her standing, her mind mulling over a particular scene or bit of dialogue. He would watch her mentally chew on the problem, then gifting him with a smile of victory when she’d riddled it out to her satisfaction.
This afternoon, the actor playing the male lead Jonathan Goodwell did not like a line and Sarah changed it. Listening, Gavin had to admit the actor’s wording was better. Gavin himself was not fond of admitting when he was wrong but Sarah was of a more open mind. She continually weighed what was best for her play, a trait Gavin had discovered that since knowing her, he had started to use in his political life to good success.
The actors were rehearsing the last scene. This was where Goodwell declares himself to the Widow. The actor playing the role was Thom Rawlins. He was a long, narrow man with a sharp chin and deep-set eyes.
Sarah had wanted a more dashing actor for the role but beggars could not be choosers. Gavin was as aware as Sarah that many of the prime actors in the city had chosen not to audition for Widow because they were not comfortable with a female manager.
He had offered to hire a male manager for her but Sarah was committed to serving as actress-manager and so she would.
Watching her, Gavin could tell she relished this dual role. His love liked being in charge—
