Page 22 of His Bluestocking Bride

“Yes, isn’t it?” Lady Calvert looked amused and gestured for Ellen to sit near her on the sofa in the morning room. “Ah, look at this. Marianne has excellent taste.”

“I have always liked Marianne’s decorating,” Ellen acknowledged with a smile, her heart beating rapidly.

“I am interested to see what you will do to Orchard Hill,” the dowager said, folding her hands primly in her lap. “It is not so large as this house, but I always found it lovely and comfortable.”

Ellen tipped her head to one side, regarding the woman carefully. Did this mean the lady accepted her son’s choice? “I am afraid Mr. Calvert has not taken the time to tell me much about Orchard Hill yet.”

“Do you call him Mr. Calvert to his face?” the woman asked, eyebrows drawing together, making Ellen’s pulse jump. Would the inquisition would begin in earnest?

“He has asked me to call him Marcus,” she answered truthfully.

The woman nodded and continued. “I remember the girl you were, your hair in a braid and your parasol perpetually lost.” She sighed and shook her head, a gentle look in her eyes. “You spent many summers here.”

“Most of them,” Ellen agreed.

“Your aunt was one of my dearest friends. I don’t recall ever meeting your mother. I take it she is not present now?”

Ellen shook her head.

Lady Calvert looked carefully at her. “From what I know of your family, the Falkhams included, you are a good, dependable, honorable group. Would you say that is accurate?”

“Yes, Lady Calvert.” Ellen could attest to that much.

“And I remember you are a quiet and clever sort of person. Tell me, will you let my son run roughshod over you or will you stand firm on your decisions and convictions? Do you know your own mind?”

Ellen answered firmly. “I know my own mind, Lady Calvert, and your son has given me his word to show respect for my opinions.”

“Good.” She relaxed visibly. “I had worried he would run off and marry the first ninny who would have him. But I am pleased by his choice. I think you will do the family credit.”

Ellen stared, hardly believing what she heard. “If that was such a great concern, Lady Calvert, why make him choose a bride at all?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she worried she ought not to have spoken so freely, but the woman’s frank manner was both disarming and refreshing.

The dowager countess began laughing, but she softened the sound by reaching out and squeezing Ellen’s hand. “Dear child, you will be perfect for him. I suspect my son did act hastily, but he has sound judgment. In time, he will realize what a treasure you are.”

She released Ellen with a pat on her fingers. “I will answer your question, as you have been so good to answer mine. Marcus is a good boy, but in the years since his father passed, he has been adrift. From season to season, he flirts from one end of a ballroom to the other. Then he shuts himself away the rest of the year. I have worried for him. I believe he needs to be spurred into action and obligation. He needs a reason to truly thrive. A wife has a way of keeping a gentleman aware of his responsibilities.”

If Marcus wanted to shut himself away, that should be his right. Forcing him to marry hardly seemed the appropriate response to his problems. But Ellen bit her tongue rather than voice her thoughts.

“You are not convinced.” The shrewd woman reached out and patted Ellen’s hands. “You will see. I feel certain of it.”

A maid entered with a tea tray.

“Now, Miss Bringhurst, what plans have you for your wedding?”

Chapter Ten

Marcus arrived at the home of Henry and Margaret Ashby, brother-in-law and sister to Ellen, not long before Lucas’s coach came into the yard. The Ashbys were hosting the brothers the night before the wedding. Shortly before dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Ashby politely withdrew to see to their children, giving Marcus and Lucas time to themselves.

“I’m glad you came,” Marcus told his elder brother. He leaned against the mantle with one elbow. “Having you present will put me at ease.” He hadn’t seen Ellen since delivering her brother to her weeks ago, and though letters had been exchanged from Orchard Hill, London, and Oak Lodge, none had been directly from her hand.

What if she’d changed her mind?

Lucas sat in an overstuffed chair, his hands dangling over the armrests. “I cannot imagine why. I believe it is tradition for brothers to be a trial to one another on occasions such as this.” He winked, though no smile accompanied the jest. “I should be saying awful things to you about marriage. But as you are forced into the arrangement, I have decided against being unnecessarily cruel.”

Marcus’s lips twitched at that and he straightened. “That does not sound at all amusing for you. I should tell you, Ellen is a very pragmatic woman. She is intelligent and enters this agreement knowing the whole of my reasons for it. I think we will be content in one another’s company.”

“Perhaps that is the best way to begin,” Lucas said, closing his eyes. “Keep the heart out of it.”

“I do believe so. There are no expectations, save what I have explained to Ellen already. Therefore, there can be no let-downs.”