Notorious Pleasures (Maiden Lane #2)(91)

Cousin Bathilda had had hysterics over Maximus’s demand that Hero marry on Sunday. She’d gone off to try and reason with Maximus, but Hero had very little hope that even Cousin Bathilda would persuade Maximus to put off the wedding. Once Maximus set his mind to something, he was like a granite boulder: hard and immovable.

Not that it mattered, really.

If she were to marry Thomas, this Sunday or a Sunday months from now it made no difference. She didn’t even care about the inevitable scandal. She knew she should. A small part of her mind was wailing that she should be panicked, should be pacing or throwing hysterics herself. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She was making a mistake.

Hero sighed and dropped the earring next to her tea-cup. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was making a terrible, irredeemable mistake.

“There you are,” Phoebe called from the doorway as she entered. “Wherever has Cousin Bathilda gone? I can’t seem to find her.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Hero said, feeling guilty. “She’s gone off in a frenzy to speak to Maximus.”

“Oh,” Phoebe said, sitting down on a chair at right angles to Hero’s settee.

Phoebe’s little shoulders drooped. Hero bit her lip. “Did Maximus talk to you?”

Phoebe nodded, looking down.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Phoebe straightened a bit. “All those balls and such. It would have been wearying, I expect, don’t you?”

“Yes, it is rather tiring,” Hero said gently.

“It’s just…” Phoebe wrinkled her nose. “I would’ve liked to have danced with a gentleman not related to me once. Just once.”

Hero felt tears prick her eyes.

“It’s for the best. I do understand that.” Phoebe inhaled and looked up. “Did Cousin Bathilda go to talk to Maximus about your marriage?”

Her voice was diffident and Hero felt worse. They’d not told Phoebe anything, but she must’ve been aware of the household turmoil the last couple of days.

“You know Maximus said I had to marry this Sunday?” Hero asked.

“One of the servants overheard something and told me.” Phoebe’s eyes dropped. “I thought you didn’t like him anymore?”

“It’s rather complicated.”

“But he hit you, didn’t he?” Phoebe looked at her worriedly. “That’s where you got that bruise on your cheek, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Hero winced as she touched her cheek. It was turning a rather vivid purple. “But he has sent his apologies.” She gestured to the vase of roses.

Phoebe examined them. “So that’s who they’re from?”

“Yes.”

“They’re quite extravagant. He must be feeling guilty. But then he should feel guilty. I don’t think you ought to marry him,” Phoebe said earnestly. “Not if he’s hurt you. What is Maximus thinking?”

“It’s not quite that simple.” Hero sighed and picked up the diamond earring, twisting it between her fingers. “Maximus is doing what he thinks is best for me.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Mandeville acted out of anger—I did something to anger him terribly. He’s a very trustworthy man usually. Maximus knows this and knows he will make a responsible, solid husband for me.”

Phoebe wrinkled her nose. “Responsible. Solid.”

When repeated flatly like that, Thomas’s attributes sounded less sterling. Nevertheless, Hero nodded. “Yes.”

“It seems rather boring reasons for marrying someone.”

Hero bit her lip. “Marriage is supposed to be boring.”

“Why?” Phoebe asked. “Why can’t it be exciting and… and an adventure? I’m sure if you looked a bit more, you could find a man who made your heart thrill when you saw him.”

Made her heart thrill. That was what she felt like when she saw Griffin. But he was wholly inappropriate, wasn’t he? Phoebe was simply too young to understand.

Hero shook her head, staring at the earring in her hand.

Phoebe leaned forward to peer at her hand. “Isn’t that the earbob you lost at your engagement ball?”

“Yes.” Hero folded her fingers protectively around the little piece.

“But how wonderful that you’ve found it again,” Phoebe said. “It’s almost like having an entirely new set when one finds a lost earring, I always think.”

Hero raised her eyebrows in faint amusement. “How often do you lose earrings?”

“Quite often, I’m afraid,” Phoebe said. “They just seem to—”

“Your brother is as stubborn as a mule!” Cousin Bathilda cried as she entered the sitting room. Mignon barked as if to emphasize the pronouncement.

“He wouldn’t move the date?” Hero asked.

“Not only would he not move the date, but he also wouldn’t even discuss the matter.” Cousin Bathilda plopped onto the settee beside Hero, earning a growly grumble from Mignon. “Then he had the temerity to tell me that he had business to conduct and that our interview was over! Can you imagine? Where that man became so rude, I haven’t the faintest. Your mother was the height of civility, my dears, a true lady, even without the title, and I certainly never led him to believe that such conduct to his elders was a matter of course.”