His Impassioned Proposal (The Bridgethorpe Brides) Page 9

  “Of course not. I’ll go to him as soon as I wash off the horse sweat.”

  “Not that he’d be offended by the smell of horses, but I understand your wish to appear at your best. I’ll have Thackery let him know he can expect you shortly.”

  Stephen found Sir Perry gazing out the window that overlooked the stables. “Sir Perry. I was surprised to hear you’d stopped by. Is something amiss? Are Lady Marwick and Miss Marwick well?”

  “They are both well, and arriving in London on the morrow. That is the purpose of my call.”

  “Is there some matter I may assist you with?” Stephen stopped a few feet from the man.

  “Yes. You’ll go speak with my daughter and put a stop to all this nonsense once and for all.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Sir Perry waved his meaty hands, something he only did when flustered, a state Stephen rarely had seen him in. “You will go to Jane and convince her it’s time the two of you marry.”

  Stephen raised a hand to comb his fingers through his hair and caught himself before he could tangle with the eye patch ribbon. “She made it perfectly clear she wished nothing of the sort. I’m reasonably certain the matter is closed.”

  “You’re a man, open it again. The girl doesn’t know what is good for her. You are good for her.”

  “She no longer agrees. She asked for secrecy, but as it involves your family you probably are aware of the situation. It seems Lady Marwick’s brother by marriage does not tolerate liquor well.”

  “Who, Bailey? The bloody bastard can’t control his temper even before he begins to drink. But what has that to do with you and Jane?”

  “When I spoke to her while in my cups, memories of this uncle became fresh in her mind. Miss Marwick fears I’m cut from the same cloth. Perhaps she feels all men who drink are.”

  Sir Perry stroked his chin, his heavy brows drawn together. “Unless you struck her, which I know you would have told me by now, there is no comparison between you two men. You must let her see she is mistaken.”

  “I never raised a hand toward her. And I never would. I have apologized to her…I haven’t even touched a drop of brandy since that night. I thought she was coming round, and then the bit about the mills came up.”

  “The mills?”

  “Yes. She was upset that my income, or a good portion of it, comes from mills that employ children.”

  Shaking his head, Sir Perry paced to the desk and back. “This is all her nerves. There is no other possible reason she would continue to find excuse after excuse not to marry you.”

  “Or perhaps she doesn’t wish to marry me. I can see no other reason to find fault with one thing after another. I appreciate your concern, Sir Perry, but I believe the matter is settled. Miss Marwick will marry someone other than me.”

  “Settled! Nonsense. But you will settle it. Go to her in London. Tell her you are the best man for the job and you will take no other answer than that she marries you.”

  Stephen shrugged. He didn’t wish to seem indecisive, but he had brooked all Jane’s arguments and had no more to say in his defense. In truth, he didn’t wish to marry a woman who didn’t want him. “I mean no disrespect, sir, but neither Jane nor I deserve to end up in a marriage that is forced upon her. My wish for her has always been her happiness. I will not insist she marry me.”

  “There is my point, young man. You want what’s best for my daughter. I feel in my heart that is you. Maybe I’m going about it the wrong way. All I know is there is no light in her eye when she speaks of the balls and assemblies this Season. Not like in the past. It’s as though she has to force herself to go.”

  The older man turned to face Stephen, his eyes holding both sorrow and frustration. “I want my daughter to be happy again. The way she was when she was waiting for you to come home.”

  Knowing there was nothing he could do to return her to that joyous state, as it would mean undoing things that he couldn’t change, Stephen nodded. “I will go to London and speak with her. But the decision of whom she will marry must be hers.”

  Sir Perry held out his hand. “Agreed. I imagine that is all we can do.”

  After the baronet left, Stephen began to pack. David came to his bedchamber and asked about Sir Perry’s visit.

  Stepping aside to let a footman help, Stephen explained. “He feels Jane and I belong together, in spite of what Jane wishes. I promised I would speak to her one more time, but Sir Perry will have to abide by whatever decision she makes.”

  “I don’t understand her fears, but I assumed once she remembers what the other gentlemen are like, she would realize your worth.”

  Stephen laughed. “You’d have me believe they’re all rakehells and rapscallions.”

  “No, that is what I wish her to believe. And Hannah, too. How can Mother allow those scoundrels close enough to dance with her?”

  “It is the custom. And she will have to marry at some point.”

  “Why? Knightwick and I haven’t married. And we’re perfectly happy.”

  “Your sister is a young lady, cousin. She wants nothing more than to meet handsome gentlemen and dream of her wedding.”

  David spun on his heel and marched toward the door. “I must pack. I can’t have Hannah walking into the dragon’s lair on her own.”

  “But what about the Spring Race Meeting?” Stephen called after him.

  David came back into the bedchamber. “Blast it. But you will be there. You must not leave Hannah’s side until Knightwick or I arrive.”

  Chuckling, Stephen nodded. “As it will give me the access I need to Jane, I will do my best to protect my young cousin.”

  As luck would have it, the rooms Stephen had let were available when he arrived in London a week ahead of schedule, so he needn’t stay in Knightwick’s home in the meantime. He sent word to Lady Marwick that he was in Town and wished to pay a call.

  Before he visited Jane, however, he needed some clothing suitable for the ballroom. And for walks in Hyde Park. Stephen suddenly realized how far afield he’d strayed from his daily life. Why hadn’t he asked David for guidance?

  For the next two days he visited shop after shop, outfitting himself for any possible occasion. Dressing himself in a new pair of buckskins, pale blue waistcoat and navy cutaway coat, he realized he’d run out of excuses for putting off paying his call to Jane. Now he had to hope he wouldn’t have to wait in line to speak to her.

  He walked to the townhouse where she and Lady Marwick were staying, using the exercise to burn off any nervous hesitation he still felt. Deep inside, he still wanted Jane more than ever, but more important was her happiness. The last thing he wanted was for her to agree to marry him because she felt it was expected of her.

  The butler who answered the door at the Marwick’s townhouse announced they were not at home. As he moved to close the door again, Stephen held up a hand.

  “Would you know where I might find the ladies? I bear a message from Sir Perry.” It wasn’t an outright lie. The baronet had sent him to London, after all.

  “I believe Lady Marwick mentioned the Marchioness of Galworthy.”

  Stephen nodded and thanked the servant and left, not wishing to admit he knew so little about London as to not know where to find the homes of the more prominent members of the ton. Instead, he returned to his own rooms and asked his manservant. Then he set out once more to find Jane.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jane toyed with the strings of her reticule and wished Hannah was with her. The Marchioness of Galworthy’s parlor was quite large and quite crowded, as it had been this time of year the two prior Seasons. Everyone wanted to be certain to receive an invitation to Lady Galworthy’s ball, one of the first crushes of the Season. And so, everyone paid a call the moment they arrived in London.

  While she was possibly not the only person sitting in that elaborately decorated room who was guaranteed one of those coveted invitations, Jane felt out of place, a stranger who somehow shared a common language w
ith the young ladies and gentlemen around her. A common purpose to their gathering. The search for a suitable husband or wife, or a fortune to keep a title alive.

  How had she become so dispassionate about finding a husband? She couldn’t continue to blame Stephen for the end of her childhood dream of romance. If anything, that event was more an awakening for her, the final threshold to her life as an adult. Perhaps she was slower to reach that step than her girlfriends who’d already married, but reach it she had.

  Jane no longer imagined the perfect gentleman who would sweep her away to his grand country home, as that gentleman had always worn Stephen’s face in her mind, and his home had always been in Cheshire. But she wasn’t a child who could continue to dream. She was a young lady whose time had come to marry.

  Her gaze wandered the room as she mentally recited titles and incomes and expectations her mother had been drilling into her the past month. She would rather know if he was kind, did he have many brothers and sisters, and did he want more from a wife than to bear his children and remain meekly at his country seat while he continued a lifestyle of mistresses and gambling?

  “Stop.”

  Jane didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Mr. Tunney, who had appeared in front of her chair, asked, “Beg pardon?”

  “Mr. Tunney, how good to see you again. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to speak my thoughts aloud. This is quite the place to be seen, isn’t it?”

  “Quite so. I must say I’m rather surprised to find you here.”

  Jane tilted her head, wondering why he would be surprised. “My mother is an old friend of the Marchioness. We call here quite often when we’re in Town.”

  “Yes, yes, that is all good, but I meant I’m surprised to find you in London for the Season.”

  “Why is that? Why shouldn’t I have come?” Her voice rose in pitch with her increased emotion.

  “No reason, I assure you. I meant nothing ill. I merely had heard you had accepted an offer of marriage.”

  Unable to do anything but blink in response, Jane ran his words through her mind. She wouldn’t be surprised to learn people knew of Stephen’s proposal, but wherever had they come up with the idea she’d accepted? “How odd. And did the bearer of this news tell you whose offer I’d accepted?”

  “Why, Mr. Lumley, of course.”

  “Mr. Stephen Lumley?” she asked. “There are so many of those Lumleys, you know.”

  “Why yes, of course. Mr. Stephen Lumley. Some say there was an agreement between your families since birth. Others…” Mr. Tunney suddenly colored and tugged at his cravat. “Well, the others were not kind.”

  That made her sit up even straighter. “But of course, you’ll tell me, as you are such a dear friend. You wouldn’t wish me to overhear such gossip in a public place.” As if Lady Galworthy’s parlor weren’t public enough with half the ton gathered there.

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, well. The other had to do with his injuries. I take it they are quite severe.”

  Clenching her teeth, Jane bit out, “And how do his injuries relate to my accepting his offer?”

  Mr. Tunney glanced about as though he wished someone would step in and rescue him from his own tongue. “They say you took pity on him.”

  She’d had enough. “Thank you for this enlightening bit of conversation, Mr. Tunney. Should you hear any repetition of these inaccurate tales, would you do me the kindness of informing the speakers there is no truth in any of them? I am not engaged at this time, and there was never any agreement between my family and any other as to a betrothal.”

  Jane’s arms vibrated with the emotion she fought to hold back. The outrage and the effort to contain it resonated inside her. “And as to Mr. Lumley’s injuries, there are none so severe as to cause any pity on my part. Nor would such an unkind feeling drive me to marry anyone, but most especially not Mr. Stephen Lumley. He is very much the gentleman he has always been, and as such he is deserving of far more respect than he is being given. If he were to propose, I would have no qualms about accepting his offer. Not out of pity, but knowing I would be proud to call such a man husband.”

  Her rapid breaths and fluttering heartbeat both came to a halt when she raised her gaze to Mr. Tunney. Behind him, frozen in mid-step, stood Stephen.

  Closing her eyes, Jane said a quick prayer to be anywhere else but in the Marchioness’s parlor, but when she opened them again, she hadn’t moved. And neither had anybody else in the room, all of whom had apparently ceased speaking when Jane’s voice became too loud to politely ignore.

  The air around her became insufferably close, and Jane rose with as much grace as she could muster. “Pray, excuse me, Mr. Tunney.”

  Avoiding eye contact with Stephen, Jane found her mother, who sat wide-eyed beside her good friend. Lady Galworthy, ever the gracious hostess, held out a bejeweled hand to Jane.

  “There you are, my dear girl. I was just telling your mother about a new sleeve style my modiste has shown me. It’s sure to be the latest thing.”

  All eyes jumped from Jane to the Marchioness, eager to hear the fashion news. The woman was a master hostess, to be sure.

  “I’m afraid I cannot stay to hear it, Lady Galworthy.”

  Mama suddenly picked up her reticule. “Why, how could I have forgotten? Of course we must go, dear. You will forgive us, Lady Galworthy, and give us these details when next we meet?” She rose.

  “Of course. It was so nice to see you both. I am glad you are in Town again and we will catch up on our lives soon.”

  Jane allowed her mother to guide her toward the doorway, but her steps slowed the closer she came to Stephen. What was he going to say about her little speech?

  He bowed quite formally. “Lady Marwick? May I escort you home? Sir Perry sent me to find you.”

  Her father had sent him? Or was this simply his way of aiding their escape from the gossips eagerly listening to their every word?

  “That would be so kind of you, dear boy. If you could call for my husband’s coach, I would be obliged.”

  Only when safely tucked away into the conveyance did Jane finally feel the eyes of the ton were no longer upon her. At least while they rode the cobbled streets to the townhouse, only Stephen continued to study her.

  Mama spoke as though she were still in the Marchioness’ parlor. “…and Miss Millicent Wetherby has removed to Bath to be a companion to Lady Botham-Wiggs.”

  Jane knew her mother meant well, but she wished for peace, a moment to sort through her feelings before the confrontation she knew was coming. Stephen would demand to know if what she’d said was true. While she was certain she hadn’t lied, she was no longer certain what her feelings were for Stephen.

  Stephen helped Lady Marwick descend from the carriage, and held out his hand for Jane. She didn’t meet his gaze when she accepted the assistance and continued to avoid his gaze once they were indoors.

  Lady Marwick handed her gloves and hat to a servant and motioned toward the sitting room. “Jane, please show Stephen into the parlor. I must speak to the cook, and I will join you both for tea shortly.”

  Wordlessly, Jane led Stephen into the parlor, but he couldn’t take the seat she offered. He was torn, confused by what he’d heard her say. She would be proud to call him husband. If that were true, why was her father so afraid she’d accept another man’s offer? He couldn’t believe Sir Perry would stoop to a ploy such as that.

  Pacing between the sitting areas in the small room, he tried to find the words he needed. “Jane…”

  “Yes?”

  “Is it true?”

  She didn’t question what he spoke of. “I suppose it is, but I didn’t really know it until I heard my own words.”

  A bubble of hysterical laughter threatened to escape, but he merely smiled. “At least I wasn’t the last to know. Although I suppose learning of it before half the ton is a blessing.”

  Jane jumped to her feet. “You learned of it at the same time I did, so I do not feel it necessary to apol
ogize.”

  Again he fought the desire to laugh. “I’m not asking for an apology. I’m merely discussing the amusing circumstance in which we find ourselves.”

  “And what circumstance is that?”

  “Why, your announcement of our betrothal before the fact.”

  Now she spun and stomped across the room. “I did no such thing. We are not betrothed.”

  “Are we not? I am certain that as we speak, word is spreading from kitchen to parlor. I expect your father will have heard of it in Newmarket before he retires this evening.”

  With her arms folded tightly across her breasts, Jane glared at him. “I will not stand for being a laughingstock. You must do something. Tell people they mistook my meaning.”

  He smiled and took a step toward her. “There was no mistake.”

  “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

  Another step closer. “I disagree.”

  “Stephen, you must fix this for me.”

  He was close enough now to reach for her hand and bring it to his lips. “I will.”

  Jane’s eyes clouded, her breathing became shallow. “What will you do?”

  “I’ll do just as you wish. I will marry you.”

  Her brows drew together and she licked her lower lip. “But you haven’t asked me.”

  “A minor detail. Nothing big enough to keep us apart.” His heart beat loudly enough it pounded over the constant roar in his left ear. His Jane looked so innocent, so uncertain. He wanted nothing more than to erase her uncertainty, to make it vanish without question once and for all. He parted his lips to speak the words, but couldn’t.

  Instead he leaned down and captured the gasp that escaped her lips, pressing firmly but gently against the warm flesh of her mouth. She whimpered once, then her hands clutched his arms as if she needed support.

  Her rosewater scent filled his senses, washing him with a peace he’d never known. His hands grasped her shoulders to bring her even closer, when sanity struck him. He gently pushed her back, holding her until she regained her balance. Watching her face, he waited for her reaction.