Page 19 of In the Eyes of Lord Lingley

“NON!” Madame cried in horror. “Absolutement non!”

“What is wrong, Madame Courant?” Mary nearly choked, she was so startled by her exclamation.

“You absolutely cannot be seen until your dresses are complete. It is unthinkable! You will be introduced to the world as the Infanta de Don Juan Carlos. The damage which could be done to your standing! Dieu m’en garde!”

“Infanta? But I— But Lingley— We are only a courtesy title!” Mary cried.

“Oui, in England,” Madame informed her. “But in Spain Lord Lingley has additional titles from his grandfather. Her Royal Highness was a favorite of her father and he granted her, as well as her offspring, royal titles. Mon Dieu, did you not know this? He was made un Don at his majority.”

Lingley entered then with a sheepish look. “As we do not spend so much time in Spain, I do not use the title for every day. Please forgive me, Mary. I did not mean to leave you uninformed. I honestly do not think of myself that way. I would have, of course, informed you before we arrived in Mallorca.”

“Please tell me you are not in line for the crown,” she whispered as the ladies all respectfully retreated from the room.

“No, no. It would be an astronomically small chance of that.” He assured her earnestly. “Can you forgive me my thoughtless omission?”

She wished to punish him further, but the look of panic on his face soothed her disquiet, and she put him out of his misery. “In all honesty, I do not feel lied to. I was surprised, certainly, and uncomfortable with the disclosure, but my trust in you remains unshaken.”

He released his breath in a whoosh and crushed her to his chest. “I was sure I had broken something irreparable through sheer stupidity.” Her giggle was muffled by the folds of his cravat. “Did you get a good start on your wardrobe?”

She arched her neck to look up at him. He was so much taller this close. “Madame believes that she has a handle on things. I begin to see why your mother places so much faith in her skills. She was extremely knowledgeable about my needs based on my new stations in both England and Spain. I had no idea. Even Elizabeth did not order half so much, and she married into the Darcy family!”

“Darcy is not nearly so high as his manners suggest,” Lingley snorted. “He has— I suppose I should say had — a disproportional amount of pride in his family name. While it is an old one and wealthy, they are untitled, and though his mother was the daughter of an earl, the Matlocks are a new creation, only two generations. By contrast the Ashford earldom was created by Henry II in 1160. You will be the fourteenth Countess of Ashford when the time comes. And when Uncle Archibald passes away, my father will also become the Marquis of Trenton, and we shall be the eighth Earl and Countess of Kettering. Our first and second sons will carry titles.”

“I am well aware that sons are not a guarantee in life,” Mary reminded him hesitantly.

“Then our first two grandsons will inherit the titles. They cannot be held by female offspring, but they can pass through that line if it is needed.”

“That is a relief. My mother has never been the most intelligent of women, but she was not nearly so shrill when I was younger. It was after Lydia’s traumatic birth, when she learned that there would be no more children, that her nerves became unendurable to the rest of us.”

“I care not for the reasoning. I shall never forgive her treatment of you,” he growled, nostrils flared in disgust.

“I was not justifying her prejudice, but it does not mean that I do not understand her reasoning for her worries. I have no desire to become my mother, and it is good to know that no matter the gender of our children, I shall not feel as if I have failed you. And of course, the funds you settled on me will prevent me from ever worrying over my future. It makes me wonder how different the past might have been had my parents saved some portion of their income toward the future rather than spending it on books and port and more and more lace.”

“I have never understood some ladies’ desire to dress themselves up like a very expensive dessert and then expect a rational man to fall at their feet. One look and most would run the other way to avoid such a frivolously expensive wife. It would be much more rational to dress well but simply to entice a husband.”

“Oh yes, much more rational, but not nearly so fashionable. My mother was indeed hoping to entice some unfortunately wealthy man into marrying one of my sisters, but a secondary, but equally important reason was to project our wealth to the neighborhood. Even with my father’s lackadaisical management, Longbourne brought in £2000 a year, which was double the next highest income in the area, since Netherfield had always been leased. My mother was extremely proud of the fact that she had caught the heir of Longbourne. Your father was lucky to have avoided the area until he had married.”

He snorted with amusement. “I cannot imagine that he would have given up a princess for the gauche daughter of a solicitor.”

“My father had no plans to marry her either, and yet here we are.”

Chapter 12

Mary slowly came awake, the comfortable, warm feeling of peace slowly melting away to be replaced by her now familiar abashment when realizing that she had once more wrapped herself about her husband’s person while they slept. She had never heard of a couple who shared a bed; certainly, her parents never had. She had assumed that he would have taken himself off to his own bed sometime in the night, but every morning she awoke to his soft breath in her hair. Despite her discomfort, or more correctly her flusteredness, she dare not address it for fear that he might leave her alone after all, just when she was becoming used to his presence.

“You seem to be deep in thought, my dear,” he rumbled, his voice deepened by sleep and contentment.

She flushed as if she had been caught out, but her voice remained steady as she asked if he had plans for the day. He smiled knowingly but allowed the deflection.

“I assume that your new hair styling will not take all of the day, so I hoped that you might be willing to go on an adventure with me. Madame Courant is most likely correct that we should be aware of your future reputation, though it seems silly to me. But suppose that Johnny and May, rather than the Viscount and Viscountess of Lingley, went to the museum? What talk could such unknown people cause?”

“But would you not be recognized?” Mary asked, raising her head to look him in the eye.

“I sent Goodman to acquire costumes which would be acceptable for a maid and footman who were stepping out together on their half day. No one of any consequence pays any attention to servants. We will be essentially invisible!”

Mary beamed at him. “I really would love to see the Musée de Napoleon. If you are sure…”

“Completely! Get your hair done and then we shall escape our rarefied circles for the rest of the day.”