Marriage to a Mister (A Daughters of Regency #1) (3 page)

Julian's face drained of all color, the reality of what they had done settling in. "God help us."

"Yes." Charles agreed, pulling out his golden watch from his fob pocket, checking the time. "Maddie thinks the marriage should be between Edward and Fleur, as they are the eldest. Not to mention I have not seen that younger son of mine for more than a month — he comes and goes as he pleases. She's already spoken to Edward and he is coming here to address Fleur within the hour, if you are amenable. And Julian, you must be."

Julian nodded, feeling as though the sense and order that ruled his life had run away from him. "How many times will we cause our children grief? Why do they have to pay for our assumptions and our mistakes?"

Charles bowed his head, knowing Julian talked about the past as much as he did the present. "We can only hope Edward and Fleur will grow to love one another. They already do to some extent, you know this, having been raised together should make the transition a little easier, one would think."

 
Julian grasped the letter opener on his desk, his knuckles turning white. "How does your son feel about the betrothal?"

Charles paused. "He was very accepting."

"Not exactly a confession of love, is it?" Julian asked, his jaw tight.

"He wouldn't want to see your girls come to harm any more than Maddie or I."

"We tried pairing them off before, Charles, and look what happened."

"There is always Evan," Charles said slowly and carefully.

Julian's eyes hardened, his voice rough. "No."

"It might make things — "

"I said no."

Charles nodded, not willing to bring up the old argument of his younger son, knowing Julian would never relent. "Then try not to worry. Maddie has thought of everything, brilliant as she is. Within the last few hours, she planned a house party and sent off invitations. Everything has been arranged and instructions sent to the staff at Blackburn Hall. The two can be married at the end of the gathering in a quiet ceremony surrounded by family and a few friends. They will have time to come to know one another, Julian, after all, the banns still have to be called."

The duke nodded — it was a good plan, considering the circumstances. "I suppose we must announce the betrothal tonight. Everyone's tongues will be wagging. I am curious though, what would you have done if I had refused your plan?"

Charles huffed but made no move to answer. Julian suspected he had none.

"You said Ravenbrook would be here within the hour?"

"Yes, of course. The sooner the better I think. We should not delay, don't you agree?"
 

"I do, but I must to speak to Fleur immediately and at least give her some time to prepare herself." Julian said while turning, if possible, a shade more puce.

"Do you think she will take it badly?" Charles asked, sinking further down into his chair at Julian's glare to such an obtuse question. He rubbed his face in frustration. "Edward will be here any minute."
 

"The more reason for you to get out of that chair and delay him so I can speak to my daughter," Julian said through gritted teeth. "Tell him to come back in a few hours, or better yet tell him the whole thing is off! Sod the plan and sod the entire British aristocracy," he shouted, chagrin settling in. "Besides, this is entirely your fault, Charles. Who in their right mind speaks about such matters of import when they're drunk at a birthday celebration? Of course we made a scene."

"You must see sense, Julian! The last thing we want is for Lady Fleur to feel cornered, but they must marry —." The earl was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door, followed by Craigs walking in with the tray. A small card was placed on top to announce the visitor, Viscount Ravenbrook.

"He is here," stated Charles.

"There really is nothing to be done," said Julian, standing from his chair and looking towards the door.
 

"Have your man show my son in here while you prepare your daughter. Having a minute's notice is better than having none at all. Really it's more than some fathers give their poor daughters."

"Those fathers ought to be shot," Julian seethed, though he was no longer certain he was any better. "Right, I'll have your son see her in the drawing room after we have spoken. I don't foresee any difficulties — Fleur is a reasonable girl and I think she will see sense in the match. They have at the very least considered one another with all the hints we have dropped over the years. It won't be too much of shock to her, will it? And they have grown up considerably since then, so perhaps they will see each other differently now?"

"You're stalling, Julian," said Charles, his voice soft.

Julian nodded and left the comfort of his library. He wanted what was best for his girls, so why was he always making these careless mistakes? He did not know, but he would see her happy, and he felt she had more of a chance to be content with Edward, than she did with the other suitors who were veritable strangers compared to Ravenbrook.

Feeling somewhat better about the situation, he made his way upstairs, hoping all the while his youngest would not be with Fleur when he tried to explain the situation. If his headache was terrible now he didn't want to think how he would feel after that confrontation.

A LOVE REQUITED

Evan Woolf stood by his mahogany desk in his small library and shuffled through his papers, a smug smile on his face.

He decided he was feeling rather content, and for Evan, that was saying something. Having only reviewed his latest investment a moment before, his spirits lifted at the good news from his solicitor. Though mostly he lent his high spirits to the thought of telling Nathan that he'd been right, because that meant that Nathan had been wrong.
 

How delicious
, he thought, smirk still in place.
 

He picked up the letters again, ready to reread the pleasing news, when he heard a knock on his front door.
 

"Damn," he said, throwing the papers down with a great smack and moving to the window to see who had arrived uninvited. Unable to see, he shrugged and left the unknown person to knock.

He walked around the desk to sit down and start his day's correspondence when the knocking became more rapid and forceful. Only one person in all of England could knock in that persistent manner, Nathan Carter.

Smiling again, he bounded from his library to the front entryway and shooed his cook away from the door. "I will answer, Eliza," he said, swinging open the door as she shook her head in what he knew was great displeasure at having to tend to the door at all.

Nathan stood in the doorway, straight-faced and impatient. "I've been knocking for ages, what have you been doing?" He walked inside, tripping over a fraying carpet, his blonde hair falling into his eyes. Evan nodded to Eliza her dismissal, who then hurumphed and went back to her kitchen.
 

"I've been working, Nathan. It's that thing people do in order to make a living or satisfy one's need for growth. Not that you'd understand."

Nathan looked around trying to find a place to set his belongings. Every surface was filled with papers and books, so he settled for throwing his hat and cane in the corner of the entryway before turning to a mirror and righting his hair.

"And why wouldn't I understand?" Nathan asked, his preening finished. "I have my own interests too."

Evan shook his head. "You'll definitely be interested in this, come and have a look," he said, walking back towards his desk.
 

Nathan groaned and moved carefully through the mountains of books that had crawled their way out of the library doors and into the hallway, piled high on the floor.

"When are you going to organize all this?" he asked, waving his hand around and stepping over a growing hill of science tombs.
 

"When I have the time, I suppose," said Evan, already in the library, having maneuvered the piles with ease.

"You do realize if you hired some help they would take care of this for you, along with answering the door," Nathan said slowly and deliberately. "I'm sure Eliza would appreciate it as well," he added when Eliza came in with a tray and slammed it on the small table in the corner.

"Hello, Eliza," Nathan said cheerfully.

She grunted once more and Evan looked over at her. "She doesn't mind, do you Eliza? Besides I'm only one person and hardly any trouble at all."

Eliza mumbled what Nathan heard as
No trouble at all, indeed
, and flew out of the room. It was frightfully amusing to him. "So what is it that you wanted to show me?"

Nathan watched Evan as he shuffled through paper after paper and mumbled. "Sometime today perhaps?"

"Here it is!" Evan boomed. "Look at this, look at it," he said as he shoved the letter in Nathan's face so he had only the choice to take it. "I told you, didn't I? The cylinder press was bound to be the only way for the print world to succeed in mass production. We can now print eight hundred times faster than with the older models. John Walter has agreed to purchase, you know, and others will follow suit once they see his production speeds."

Nathan's face soured as he read over the letter. "John Walter, as in
The Times
, John Walter? Well congratulations, you'll now be rich as Croseus, not that you weren't doing well before."

"Says the man with a trust bigger than my entire portion. Some of us need to produce and not just exist."

Nathan shrugged.

Evan gave up and walked over to his chair, moving papers he had slung around moments before into messy little piles. "So, what brings you here? If it's about tonight's ball I've already conveyed my regrets to the hostess
and
my mother. I don't know why she insists her friends invite me. I haven't said yes once in all these years."

Nathan clucked impatiently. "Because she hopes you'll relent and come, you idiot, but that's not why I'm here. I received this early this morning." Nathan reached into his pocket and removed an invitation. He waved it around before sliding it back into his coat.
 

"Ah, yes, that," said Evan, his face drawn and clearly annoyed. "I was planning on visiting my mother this afternoon to convey my regrets. A house party? Can you imagine? And not a word of it until this very morning. If I hadn't had such good news along with the invitation, I'd be in a very foul mood.

"There can be no doubt on that subject," said Nathan, smiling and shaking his head.

Evan looked over to Nathan, curious. "I assume you will refuse? In fact, you can join me to visit my mother and hand her your regrets as well. She is always happy to see you, though I can't imagine why," he said, smiling and dodging a piece of random paper Nathan flung at him. "I do have business to attend to beforehand, so keep that in mind. If you accompany me this time you can't complain as you did the last."

Nathan looked at him wearily. "My answer depends greatly on your destination."

Evan smiled. "My solicitors."

Nathan pulled a face. "Last time, you told me it would only take a moment and then we were there for two entire hours."

Evan shook his head, remembering how Nathan had sulked around his solicitor's office, trying to occupy himself, when he accidentally kicked a cabinet, sending a framed portrait of the man's wife crashing to the ground, breaking to pieces.

Evan laughed at his thoughts. "To this day when I visit he moves that portrait, as if I'm about to attack it."

Nathan smirked. "He should not have left it perched so precariously on the edge then."

"If you'd rather not go you could speak to my mother tonight, if you're attending the Brockhurst's Ball."
 

"I have been invited," said Nathan. "Shocking, seeing as I'm only the son of a lowly Baron, and a second son at that."
 

"Yes, but you are very rich. It acquits you of all flaws, didn't you know?" asked Evan laughing. He walked over to his chair before lifting the coat he had perched on the arm. He shrugged into the ill-fitted superfine one arm at a time, the browns of his over and waist coats warring with one another. "Are you joining me, or not?"

 
Nathan sighed. "I suppose, but only if you truly will be there for a moment."

"Of course. Would I lead you astray?" asked Evan, smiling.
 

The made their way outside and Evan practically cantered down the lane, with Nathan trying to keep pace. He knew his business would take a bit longer that he admitted, but watching Nathan squirm from acute idleness was one of his favorite pastimes since university, but more than that, he was happy to spend the day with his friend.

***

Lady Fleur Osborne sat in the family's private upstairs parlor and wished. She wished for patience with her knitting as the wool slid from her fingers and needles for the third time that morning. She wished for rain that afternoon, hoping she would not have to honor her acceptance of taking a drive in Mr. Hamilton's new phaeton. But most of all, she wished she could stay home that evening, though she did look forward to seeing her friends one final time.
 

She had finally managed to move the fallen stitches back onto her needles with a feeling of accomplishment when a loud
bang!
made her startle, and all her hard work unraveled as it fell to the floor. Pursing her lips, she swung around in her chair towards the door, knowing she would find her sister there.
 

"Julia Osborne!" she shouted, then took a deep breath to calm her nerves while her sister looked startled as she.

"Good heavens, what are you shouting at me for?" asked Julia, hand clutched to her heart, her eyes challenging.

Fleur's brows knitted as she turned back to the tangled maze on the floor. "Why is it that every time you open a door it sounds like a pistol echoing thru the house? How many times must I ask you to show some restraint?"

Julia tapped her chin in feigned thought as she hummed. "At least once more?"

Fleur pursed her lips again, this time failing to hide a smile. "A lady walks calmly and gracefully into a room, she does not go charging in like a ... oh, what's the use? Honestly, you're nineteen now and out into society. I should not have to remind you like a child."