Andrew looked at the man’s hulking bulk, barrel-shaped legs, and massive arms.He reined in the urge to drive on, dismounted, and began to walk.The manuscript, secure in its leather folio, lay under his arm while wind whipped his coat about.Pain in his back and hip, aggravated by the long ride and the cold, reminded him of how he had felt months ago.The vigor of recent months deserted him, but he soldiered on.
The year had stretched deep into February.March loomed in a few days.The wind still attacked with a bite, but dusk came a bit later.Wind threatened the portfolio with its precious manuscript.He pulled it more tightly to himself with one arm and grasped the silver lion’s head on his ebony cane with the other.He leaned his head into the wind that roiled his hair and brought tears to his eyes.
Mountview’s massive shape blotted out the sky.Light glowed in every window as if to call out to him, while at the same time the gray stone walls, dark in the moonlight, stood ready to keep him out.It had always been so.
As a boy, he had come here with the heir, permitted in but not welcomed.This time he came as an outright intruder.The impulse to seek the tradesman’s entrance flooded him for a fierce moment, but he shook it off.He would enter by the formal entrance.
* * *
Night broughtno poetic softening to life inside the Hayden household.Georgiana sat stiff-backed in the corner of the family stateroom.Her impeccably correct gown, high-necked and edged in lace, fell in straight lines of navy blue silk, heavy and rich, to the floor.She felt as if her hair, drawn back in a tight knot and covered with an exquisite lace cap, must emphasize the misery lodged deep in the bones of her face.She faded more every week that passed without meaningful work, Peabody’s health regime, or word from Andrew.Her will to defy the family weakened daily, and she knew it.
The Duchess of Sudbury held court on a gold brocade sofa before the fire.The Countess of Ardmore, draped her gown artfully around her, tilted her head to catch chandelier light, and gracefully occupied a matching chair.Her husband faded into the shadows of the room, a pale wraith outshone by Hayden splendor.The Duke himself stood in silent dignity to the right of the fireplace.Lady Marianna Hayden sat straight-backed on a small chair just below her mother’s.
The room’s final occupant, her brother Richard, every inch the Marquess, stood removed from the rest.His posture, while no less dignified, didn’t condescend to being part of the carefully arranged tableau before the fire.He sat at a splendid mahogany secretaire and observed his eldest sister.
Georgiana returned Glenaire’s gaze without blinking and with little warmth.Neither Glenaire nor His Grace found it convenient to arrange her return to Cambridge after Candlemas or on any day since.She knew Richard couldn’t or wouldn’t understand her need to return.
They waited in silence for the summons to dinner.The finely carved double doors between the atrium and the family sitting room swung open with a well-oiled swoosh just as the clock in the entrance chimed the hour.All eyes turned in anticipation.The Duchess raised a languid hand for assistance and made an impatient sound.“The announcement, Peters!”she demanded.
The butler’s tones were funereal.“Your Grace, I must beg your pardon.A caller has arrived who will not be repelled.He asks for the Lady Georgiana.”
Georgiana felt as if air had rushed from the room.Her heart lurched in her breast, beating so strongly she believed the others must see it pounding in her chest.She forced her features to show indifference and her eyes to focus on her father.
“Show the impertinent intruder to the tradesman’s parlor.”The Duke spoke in bored tones.
The butler looked pained, as if he couldn’t bring himself to admit he had tried and failed.The Duke of Sudbury made a gesture of impatience.“Very well.Don’t delay dinner.I won’t be long.”
“Yes, Your Grace.Dinner is served.”
Hope warred with confusion.She knew it had to be Andrew, but she wondered what would cause him to come.He hated Mountview.
“Glenaire, escort your eldest sister to the dining room.”The Duke skewered Georgiana with a look of command and left the room.
The Duchess chose to overlook the breach of protocol.She sailed through the door alone, with the Earl and Countess of Ardmore following in strict precedence.She assumed her son and his sister would follow in her wake.
The hand Georgiana placed on her brother’s arm shook.If he noticed, he didn’t comment.He covered her hand with a warm and reassuring one of his own.
Numb feet carried her into the massive atrium.She stopped abruptly.Andrew stood starkly black and vividly alive against the massive white wood and glass entrance.It towered over him, and yet he presented a picture of raw Gothic power.His strong body covered in rich black fabric, his arm extended, one hand on the ever-present ebony and silver walking stick, and his scarred face set in lines of steel radiated strength and will.Only his tousled hair gave any hint of the humanity beneath the surface.
When he saw her, a look of longing broke free from his iron self-control.It transformed his features, only to be masked with equal determination at the sight of the Duke who walked toward him.
Georgiana lurched forward, but her brother’s arm drew her to the dining room.She could follow Richard or make a scene that might make things worse.She chose to follow, at least for a moment.Her heart sang.He was there.
* * *
“We’re not accustomedto uninvited guests at the dinner hour.I’ll allow you two minutes.You will explain yourself, Mallet, and then you will be on your way.”
It wasn’t a promising beginning for a marriage proposal, but it was no less than Andrew expected.
“My business, Your Grace, is with your daughter.”
“The Lady Georgiana is at dinner.You may convey your business through me.”
The Duke, ramrod straight at seventy, had the Hayden height and long years of skill in using it to intimidate.Andrew looked up at the Duke and remembered a time when that ploy had succeeded with him.“I’ll see your daughter, Sir.”
“You will not.She doesn’t wish it.She doesn’t wish dealings with a schoolmaster’s son.”
A flicker of doubt burned like acid at Andrew’s heart; it eroded his confidence.He knew that he could lay this man flat and let the devil take the consequences.He would have if he had been sure she wanted him, but he wasn’t.
