Page 7 of A Perfect Engagement
“Those are all admirable traits.” Olivia nodded her head. “I’ll make sure to ask Rivenhall to befriend him at the party. No one can resist Henry’s charming interrogations. Then I’ll pass along any intelligence we find out.” She gave Charlotte a wink.
Charlotte bit her lip. She should be excited to be engaged to such an eligible gentleman. But no matter what she told herself she should be feeling, she couldn’t get rid of the ball of anxiety she carried around in her belly. What if her new fiancé turned out to be cruel, or a gambler, or worse, what if he wanted her to socialize in society and entertain his friends constantly. She sighed. Of course, he would want to socialize during the season. She would just have to be prepared and work on becoming more outgoing.
A secret part of her, the part which had made her swoon over those love letters last week, hoped she and her husband would grow to care for each other. A new worry reared its ugly head; perhaps he would be a distant husband only interested in getting her pregnant with his heir and then abandoning her to spend his nights with his mistress.
Stop it, you ninny.Lord Hawksridge is a kind and decent gentleman. He jumped in front of a carriage to save your life, didn’t he? Charlotte took a deep breath to calm her racing thoughts. She forced a smile.
“Thank you, Olivia. I agree; my goal this week will be to get to know my fiancé better. There will be plenty of opportunities for us to converse without my parents, now that we are officially engaged.”
Olivia gave her a hug before gathering her reticule and heading home. Charlotte did feel buoyed by the idea she would see Lord Hawksridge again soon.
Chapter Four
“Am I presentable?”Daniel executed a slow turn where he stood in the sunny nursery. Miles had sent his personal valet, Roberts, and a trunk full of “appropriate” clothes in one of the Hawksridge carriages to accompany him home. His brother had left the same day for Derbyshire to see to his damaged mill.
Daniel rolled his eyes. It’s not as though he hadn’t a decent wardrobe. He just didn’t care half as much as his brother what was new in men’s fashion. But Miles had insisted that he must wear his clothes lest Daniel bungle the switch by not having the cravat tied properly or some nonsense like that.
“You look very fancy, Papa.” Josie clapped her hands together in delight.
He crouched down to Josie’s eye level to return her smile. “Thanks, poppet.”
“I agree. You look just like a young man I once knew who broke hearts all around London,” Phoebe commented from her chair by the window. “You look every inch the gentleman you are instead of the farmer you have been playing at the past few months.”
He glanced over at her, the wistful look in her eyes causing his heart to clench. Phoebe didn’t look anything like the vibrant young woman he had known. So very pale and far thinner, she was merely a ghost of her former self. For the thousandth time, he wished she had come to him for help sooner.
Phoebe had been only twenty-six when she became a widow. Her wealthy husband left her a generous portion even though they’d not had any children. With her newfound financial freedom and independence she’d taken London by storm. Phoebe and he had been the perfect couple for a short time.
Daniel and his brother, just a year out of university had enjoyed town, sampling all of London’s vices. Although his brother, always aware of his status as heir, had never allowed himself to get into too much trouble, no matter how much Daniel and Phoebe attempted to inveigle him to join in on their adventures.
A small hand reached out to run a finger down the gold chain which held his watch.
“What’s at the end?” Josie asked.
He opened his jacket and pulled the gold watch from its pocket in his vest. Josie’s eyes went round as saucers. He lifted the lid to show her the clock’s face.
“It tells the time. The same as the clock on the mantel but in miniature.”
“A clock in your pocket.” Josie giggled. Then her finger pointed to the hands. “One o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock…” She recited each number through twelve. At five years old, Josie was precocious and curious. Intelligence shone brightly in her blue eyes.
“Very good.” He ran a hand down her soft brown hair, tucking a piece behind her ear. “I’ll miss you this week. But I promise to return Monday next.”
Josie nodded solemnly, then threw her chubby little arms around his neck. He closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in her sweetness. Fatherhood had come unexpectedly, but he already regretted the time he had missed being loved by this little girl. He stood, lifting her into his arms. “You will be good for your mama, yes?”
Josie nodded again.
“Now then, enough good-byes. You will make his fine clothes wrinkled.” Phoebe held out her arms.
He walked over and deposited Josie onto her mother’s lap. “If you need me, send a note. I can be home in under two hours.”
Phoebe nodded. “Go on with you, Weston. In the six months we’ve been here, I’ve only ever seen you tend to your crops, hammer at the broken parts of this house, or have tea parties with a five-year-old. Have some fun for once. Too bad you have to pretend to be your brother to accomplish it.”
*
As the carriagedrove up to Baron Markham’s house, Daniel observed the large stone manor. At three stories tall with two wings attached to the main house, it was an impressive structure. Tall columns stood sentry along the front of the main house. The windows gleamed in the sunshine, and he could see a glass conservatory jutting out from the end of the west wing. Large oak trees graced either side of the drive offering shade to anyone walking through the park.
A butler ushered Daniel inside. The entrance hall was a grand affair. A great marble staircase curved to the first floor, and an enormous chandelier dripping with crystals hung from the ceiling.
“Lord and Lady Markham are receiving guests in the drawing room. This way please, Lord Hawksridge.” The butler motioned toward a pair of carved wooden doors to the left of the hall.
