Page 5 of The Gift of a Christmas Scandal

The Dowager Duchess stormed from the room, anger written in every line of her body. Alex simply sighed, closing the ledger in front of him, his train of thought completely lost. Was his mother, truly, right? Was there no way out? He looked up at his father’s portrait, and could only describe the expression captured by the painter as ‘smug’. He knew now, he thought, exactly why his father had looked like that. He flung out of the chair, and took himself off to ride across the winter landscape, letting the cold air blow the bitter desperation away, if only for a while.

~~~~~

The dinner was every bit as bad as he expected, in fact, worse.

For the entire evening, five sets of eyes fixed him with reproachful gazes – his mother, Lady Phyllida, and her parents and brother. If it was their intent to induce a feeling of guilt and despair in him, then they succeeded. But, overriding the guilt, he felt his natural stubbornness rise. Damned if he would simply capitulate! He had spent seven years in Italy, just to avoid his father’s heavy-handed management of his life – he would not let this defeat him.

So he smiled, and pretended to be unaware of their thoughts, and, fortunately, they were far too polite to attempt to force so indelicate a discussion. They spoke of estate matters, of things to do with where Halstoneforth Chase ran up against Fortescue Grange, of the society marriages of the year (accompanied by sidelong and pointed looks) and of the coming Christmas House Party.

By the time that the guests departed, Alex had a headache, and a greater determination than ever to avoid the marriage. Before he allowed himself to sleep, he consulted, yet again, his list of social occasions to attend, and his list of young ladies who were classified as ‘no, never, not the slightest chance’. There were not many potential candidates left, but he was determined - he would escape this yet, somehow.

~~~~~

Selina was fidgeting, far more than normal. It was only a few days until they would depart for Fortescue Grange, and the Duke’s house party. She was, rather annoyingly, nervous. It was all her mother’s fault.

And the Earl’s.

Even as she thought that, her mother came into the parlour where Selina sat, attempting to read.

“Selina, are you sure that everything is ready? That Lisbet has packed all of your best gowns? You must look your best for the Earl – I am sure that, at the house party, he will propose – and when he does, you will accept, won’t you? You know that we have longed to see you well set up, and becoming the Countess of Hockingmoor will certainly do that!”

Selina sighed, and looked away – nothing she said seemed to have any impact on her parents’ idea of what was best for her. She spoke softly, knowing that her words would be ignored.

“Yes, everything is packed. And mother, you know that I don’t want to marry the Earl. I do want to marry, yes, and to marry well is desirable – but I think I would go mad, married to the Earl. He is so lamentably dull!”

“Now, my girl, none of that. Do not harbour foolish illusions about love and all of that – take the very good opportunity that presents to you – a good life, wealthy and well cared for, is far more important than a fleeting bit of love.”

“Do you not believe it possible to have both? Or, if not love, at least a strong liking?”

“Fustian – affection will grow over time, it is not necessary at the start.”

Selina sighed again, giving up on the argument for that day, at least.