A Wedding In Springtime(51)
“We try to find young men who showed an interest in Miss Talbot or at least spoke to her,” said Penelope. “We look for men who are respectable, appear to have the qualities of a good husband, and might appreciate the dowry she brings. Also, considering her debut, a gentleman who lived primarily in the country might be a good fit.”
“I should not have asked. It is quite a business for you, is it not?” asked Marchford.
It was more business than he realized, but Penelope said nothing more. She was generally honest to a fault, but several years in Town had taught her to keep her own counsel when the situation called for it.
Penelope had expected a large fight over the lapse in the dowager’s funds, but she was mistaken. In person, the dowager and her grandson were perfectly civil and polite. They certainly never gave the servants any material for gossip. After the unfortunate incident where her rant was overheard by Lady Bremerton, the dowager had not spoken about money again. She had, however, exchanged a series of written messages with her grandson that often resulted in her exclaiming “bah!” and throwing the missive in the fire.
“I cannot be a bridegroom for Miss Talbot. Perhaps you can make my excuses,” suggested Marchford.
“I certainly cannot!” declared the dowager, placing a strainer over a teacup. “How would it look if Louisa were to come to dinner and you not be here? Besides, it will give you an opportunity to speak with her. A date must be set.” She poured the tea into the cup, straining away the tea leaves.
Marchford accepted a cup of tea from his grandmother and took a slow sip. “I recognize the understanding between Lady Louisa and the Duke of Marchford is of long standing, but even you must concede that the lady does not appear interested in the relationship. Would it be unacceptable to end the betrothal?”
“James!” The dowager clanked the teapot down on the table. “This marriage has been planned since before you were born. Louisa has been waiting for your return for three years. You cannot back out now. You are honor bound!”
“Even though the relationship would cause misery to the parties involved?”
“Misery? How could it cause misery unless you make it so? If you are displeased with the relationship, change it. Be charming. Crumpet?”
“Yes, please,” replied the duke, accepting the buttered crumpet. “She does not appear interested in my charm, such as it is.”
“What would you suggest? Can you imagine any situation in which you could honorably dissolve the understanding between you?”
Marchford took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. His posture diminished slightly, the only sign that he had been defeated. Penelope watched the pair of aristocrats from her vantage point over tea and cake. Although she was new to the dilemma, one thing was perfectly clear—it was not within Marchford’s power to end the contract.
“Have another slice of seed cake.” The dowager offered Marchford the platter. “I also had cook make some ham sandwiches. I know you often get hungry before dinner.”
Marchford accepted the sandwich but not without suspicion. “What is it you want?”
“Can I not offer refreshments without accusation? Are you going out this afternoon?”
“Yes, I am going with Grant to Tattersall’s. Our trip yesterday was postponed.”
“Good, then you won’t mind delivering this finalized guest list to Lady Bremerton.”
Marchford finished his tea. “I should have known I could not enjoy a ham sandwich without the expectation of repaying the favor.”
“I am merely giving you an excuse to visit Louisa. Did you not suggest you needed to charm her?”
“As you wish.” Marchford accepted the list.
“And another thing,” continued the dowager in a businesslike tone. “I was thinking about why Louisa might be put out. You know you have made her wait for marriage three long years. She is considerably past the age where most girls are wed. You need to make a formal announcement, set a date, and hold a ball to celebrate.”
Marchford eyed his meal. “That is a lot to ask for a sandwich.”
“James, it is time to commit.”
Marchford was spared making a reply by the announcement that Mr. Grant had arrived. Marchford bowed out of the room and met his friend in the foyer. Grant appeared less than his normal resplendent self. His hair was out of place, his cravat sadly crushed.
“I have been tasked to give this to Lady Bremerton. Would you mind stopping by on our way to Tatt’s?” asked Marchford.