It hadn’t.
His mother had long ago given up on the marriage and sought more congenial company while in London. No other children had followed Sebastian’s birth. She had provided a daughter and an heir and thereafter did not bother to hide her dislike of her husband or her attraction to other men. Sebastian had witnessed many such instances since his boyhood.
As with all unhappy marriages, it was impossible for outsiders, even their offspring, to truly know what had happened between the couple to cause their disdain. Perhaps they didn’t know themselves.
He knew his father had a long-term mistress. She lived just outside the village, off the road leading to the gates of the Whitton Grange. There was her cottage now, set back from the roadway and at any other time of the year screened from it by a row of brightly flowering Viburnum.
The good lady was in her garden. She looked up at him from her task of adding seed to a birdfeeder.
Mrs Sperling—his older sister’s former governess.
Should he cut her for the sake of his mother or recognize her as the woman his father loved? There was only one answer in his mind. Sebastian saluted her with his riding crop and directed Hector to her garden gate. “Mrs Sperling, good day.”
“Welcome back, Lord Stanworth.” The lady smiled warmly at him. A woman in her early forties, she still had a slender figure. Her auburn hair was gathered into a simple bun and a straw bonnet covered her head. Her looks were pleasant but unexceptional until she smiled, when they transformed into enchanting.
Sebastian had known her since boyhood when she first came to Whitton Grange. She was a well-educated, softly spoken woman with a lively wit, whom his sister had adored. Since her retirement, at the time of his sister’s debut six years ago, she had lived in this cottage.
“Do you have time to tell me of your Grand Tour?” she asked.
“Of course I do.” He swung down from Hector and hitched him beside the gate. They passed a pleasant half hour in the garden talking about his many months of journeying through Europe, while Mrs Sperling snipped greenery.
“And now you have returned home to get married?” she asked suddenly.
Sebastian stiffened. Naturally, his father would have told her of his plans for Sebastian’s future. “That is my parents’ wish.” Had he succeeded in keeping the bitterness from his voice?
She clipped another strand of ivy. “But not yours?” she asked without taking her eyes from her task.
He snorted. “From an early age, I’ve known I’m expected to marry young and to marry well.”
Mrs Sperling nodded and continued gardening.
“Until I went up to Oxford five years ago, I expected to be given time to find the right woman.”
“And you haven’t been?” His companion clipped greenery with more concentration than the task warranted.
“Hah! They insist that marriage is a dynastic matter, not a personal inclination and far too important to allow me to make that decision.”
“Oh dear,” she murmured, sending a sympathetic glance his way.
“When I argued I should choose my own wife. They had pooh-poohed my idea.” Like I was a child! He had been devastated...and angry. Throughout his four years at university, he hadn’t succeeded in diverting their minds from an arranged marriage to ensure the continuation of their family line. “They are implacable.”
Mrs Sperling straightened and fixed him with her best governess stare. “And yet, they sent you on a Grand Tour of Europe after university instead of marrying?” she said evenly.
“Not at all! Only the death of my beloved grandmother, who left me funds for that purpose, saved me from my parent’s matrimonial noose then.”
Understanding blossomed on her face. “Ah, I see. So here you are a year later...”
“Being railroaded into marriage with their chosen debutant. More specifically, my mother’s choice.”
Mrs Sperling began cutting some holly. “You do not like her choice?”
Should I tell her more? “I am not against marrying, only against marrying a woman I do not love.”
“Ah, love,” she said softly. “It is a powerful and beautiful thing, but it doesn’t always bring the happiness we seek.”
“Has it not brought you happiness?” He was dangerously close to being indiscrete by asking.
She gazed into the distance as though considering her answer. “It has brought me tremendous joy, but also sadness. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t want to be without it.”
