A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle (74 page)

His mother looked away for a moment as
a single tear fell down her cheek. She brushed at it
absentmindedly. “And when Donald died, I set all our plans for the
lot of you aside. My grief overwhelmed me. It became larger in my
mind than anything I could want for each of you.”

“
Mama, we grieved Father
too.” Blast. He didn’t know how to console his mother. For too many
years, her tears were a constant companion. They had slowed a good
deal recently, but it still broke his heart to see her
cry.

“
Goodness, of course you
were all grieving. I’m making a cake of myself in trying to say
this.” She took a breath and continued. “But this Season—this
Season, I was going to resume working toward the plans your father
and I had. I’ve quite neglected Sophia, I daresay—she’s virtually
on the shelf. Charlotte is nearing her come-out. And you…well, it
is well past the time you determine how you want to spend your
days, you know. Time for sowing your wild oats is past. So when you
left for Somerton, I felt you had defied me. Oh, Peter explained
you were going to spend some time in the country and think about
your life, and I know Lord Rotheby sent for you and you wanted to
spend some time with him, so it had very little, if anything, to do
with me.”

Alex bit his tongue to refrain from
telling her just how much a part of his reason for leaving she had
been.

“
But I wanted to find you a
bride. I thought if you had a lady by your side, you would settle
down and be content. But that wasn’t your way.” Mama slowed her
speech and gazed at him with sorrow. Then she reached a hand up to
brush aside a stray lock of hair, much as she had done when he was
a boy. “You always were one who needed to find your own way,
weren’t you? But Peter convinced me to allow you your space and
time to find what you want.” Her look turned serious as she faced
him directly. “Have you found that? Is this Lady Grace Abernathy
what will make you happy?”

She placed a single finger
to his lips when he tried to answer. “Don’t answer that. Not yet.
Alex, I want you to have a love match, like your father and I did.
I know it isn’t how many amongst our class do thing, but that
doesn’t make marrying for wealth or title or prestige
right
. When you marry,
make it count. Make it last.” She gazed into his eyes with a
determination that could only come from love. “Make it
beautiful.”

Beautiful. Leave it to Mama to boil it
all down to something as perfectly simple and infinitely complex as
that.

Several more tears wetted her cheeks,
which she ignored. He brushed them away and rested his palm against
the side of his mother’s face.

“
So do you? Do you love
her? Please tell me you do, sweetheart, and I’ll promise to love
her as my very own daughter.”

He desired to tell her that yes, he
very much loved Grace and would make a marriage of it with her as
she had done with his father. But he couldn’t tell her anything
less than the truth.

But what
was
the blasted truth? He
exhaled louder than he intended. “I don’t know if it’s love. I care
for her deeply…there is a certain affection in which I hold her. I
want to protect her. There’s even a possibility I could feel a bit
of jealousy at times toward other men who might fancy her. She
fascinates me—she’s beautiful and quiet and passionate—an artist.
But love?”

He paused and thought long and hard
before continuing. “I will do everything in my power to make what I
feel for Grace become love. She deserves a marriage to a man who
will love her in the same way Father loved you. I intend to give
her that.” A few moments passed while his resolve deepened. “I’ll
fight to give her that.”

His mother looked up at him, her eyes
full of admiration. “I can see you will. Do what you need to do.
You know we’ll all assist you if you need it. Though I daresay you
would refuse it, wouldn’t you? You have become a ferociously
independent man.” She rose to leave him, but stopped when she
reached the door. “Your father would be quite proud of you.” And
then she left him.

A sense of longing welled in his
chest, a need to make her words come to fruition. Alex never
realized before this moment how much he wanted to make his father
proud, or his mother for that matter, or even Peter and the rest of
his siblings, or Priscilla and Harry. He wanted desperately to be
the man they all thought him to be.

But even greater than that, another
need grew. The need for Grace to be proud of him.

What would
that
require? Lord only
knew.

~ * ~

Three of the four Hardwicke brothers,
dressed to the nines, huddled together in the Yardley Court
ballroom. They watched the crowd of marriageable-aged misses and
their mamas fill the room beneath three matching chandeliers and
row upon row of wall sconces filled with candles. All the
candlelight cast the ballroom aglow in their shimmering glory,
amongst an entire garden’s worth of pots and hanging baskets
bearing flowers that perfumed the entire space. An orchestra warmed
their instruments in the balcony, sending a cacophony down to the
cream of society.

Across the room from the Hardwicke
men, Alex’s mother was playing chaperone to Sophie, who looked
bored but still elegant in a soft pink silk gown with her chestnut
hair twisted into complicated twirls atop her head and tangled with
matching pink ribbons. Mama was motioning to him. The first set
would begin in a moment, and he hadn’t yet fulfilled his role and
selected a partner. Nor, for that matter, had either of his
brothers selected a partner.

“
It appears we’re
neglecting our duty,” Alex said to his brothers. He extinguished a
grin that threatened to appear at Neil’s rolled eyes, hoping
instead to achieve something in the line of a grimace or a scowl.
For some reason, he doubted he had achieved the desired effect.
“Off you go, youngster. Dance with a young miss and set her heart
aflutter.”

Neil wandered off, muttering beneath
his breath. Peter turned to Alex with a resigned smile. “Shall we
dance with the Sutter daughters? Mama hinted she’d like me to align
myself with Lady Margaret, and I’ve yet to do anything about
it.”

“
And just why have you been
neglecting such a thing?”

Peter
did
manage a scowl, along with a
perfected glare of condescension. “If you take her sister, I’ll
dance with her. Then Mama will be satisfied. Go on—Lady Amelia
awaits.”

“
Is that a gentle nudge? Or
a ducal order?”

Peter answered him with a sharp nudge
to his rib cage.

“
Oof. I see it was an
order.” He absentmindedly rubbed a hand against the offended area
as they moved across the dance floor to where the sisters stood
with their mother, the Countess of Derby.

Peter executed a deeply elegant bow to
the ladies, and Alex followed suit. “Ladies. I do hope you’re
enjoying yourselves this evening.” When he straightened, he flashed
a devilish smile that seemed to bring even the countess to her
knees.

The three women curtsied to him and
Lady Margaret spoke. “Thank you, Your Grace. Yes, it’s quite a
pleasant evening. Yardley Court is rather charming, is it not?” She
looked at him expectantly.

“
Not nearly so charming as
you, Lady Margaret. Tell me, have I come too late to request your
hand for the first set?” Peter placed his arm out for her hand in a
clear expectation that he had’t.

She gingerly placed her hand in the
crook of his arm. “Why no, Your Grace. I should be honored to dance
with you.” They moved off, leaving Alex with the younger Sutter
sister and the countess.

He set his attentions on the mother.
“Ma’am, will it be too great an inconvenience if I deprive you of
both your daughters for this set?” He had not forgotten how to play
the part of the gallant gentleman during his time in the country,
it seemed. Chivalry was still alive and well with the Hardwicke
men. Blast it.

The countess simpered, “Gracious
heavens, no my lord. I see Lady Poole has arrived, and I should
very much like to speak with her. We have plans for, er, for a
picnic, you know.” She virtually pushed Lady Amelia into his
waiting arms as she left them.

Lady Amelia glanced up to
him with chagrin. “I’d be delighted.” They took their place in the
lines next to their siblings, making polite conversation about the
weather in Town of late, the latest gossip among the
ton
, and other equally
ambivalent subjects with which one might converse with a young
society miss without repercussions of shock or dismay throughout
the set.

Alex was bored and brooding in no
time. He would much prefer the silence, or even the heated disdain,
of Grace.

When the set finally came to a close,
the brothers escorted the Sutter sisters to their waiting mother.
After leaving them safely in her care and moving out of earshot,
Peter asked, “Is Lady Amelia’s conversation as insipid as her elder
sister’s? I do hope Mama is not serious about wanting me to offer
for Lady Margaret. I’ve no desire to marry a woman with whom it is
tedious to speak. She’s, but good heavens.” He tilted his head to
the side to emphasize his point.

“
Not much better with the
younger sister, I’m afraid. Perhaps you should find another
appropriate young miss to court before Mama finds one for you.”
Alex winked at his older brother. He had no doubt that half the
single ladies in the
beau monde
would gladly set their caps on the Duke of
Somerton, should he give even the slightest indication of being in
the market for a bride again.

“
Thanks to me, you seem to
have avoided a similar fate.” Peter clapped a hand on Alex’s
shoulder.

“
Look at the two of you.”
Derek Redgrave and another friend, Sir Jonas Buchannan, joined
Peter and Alex on the side of the dance floor, wide grins all
around. “With Somerton and his ne’er-do-well brother, Lord
Alexander, at the ball, there will be no ladies remaining for the
rest of us to dance with. All the young misses are certain to be
otherwise engaged, with discussions of whom the two of you are most
likely to dance with, or perchance, take for a stroll through the
gardens. The rest of us might as well head over to White’s and play
cards, because our presence will soon be redundant,” Derek said as
he glanced at Sir Jonas.

Alex reached over and gave a light
slap to Derek’s shoulder. “I hardly think you capable of
redundancy, Derek. It is good to see you as well.” For the first
time since his interview with Chatham, he felt a broad smile form
almost without his permission.

Peter stared across the ballroom at
something indeterminate. He pulled his hand up to rub against his
chin in the familiar, unconscious gesture. “Pardon me, gentlemen,”
he said after a moment. “I see someone with whom I must speak. I’ll
visit with you all later, I’m certain.” He left without sparing the
others a glance, making his way through the throngs to a darkened
corner of the room, where his mystery acquaintance
waited.

Alex’s gaze followed Peter until he
lost sight of him in the crowd. His curiosity soon evaporated as
the remaining party fell into conversation. “Your absence from Town
has been conspicuous,” Sir Jonas said. “Where’ve you been hiding
yourself? And please tell me you have been up to no
good.”

They all laughed. “I hate to
disappoint,” Alex said, “but I’ve merely been in Somerton. Rotheby
sent for me. I’ve kept him company. Nothing more exciting than
that, I fear.”

“
Nothing else?” Sir Jonas
asked. “Then what is this I hear of your visit to Chatham this
afternoon?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Chatham?
What on God’s good earth could you have to do with
Chatham?”

He wished he could have talked to
Derek before this evening, but there had been no time. But still,
why should he hide his current endeavor from his friends? Word
would spread through town in no time if he were to marry Grace.
They would know sooner rather than later. “I went to ask for his
permission to marry his daughter.”

“
You? Get married?” Derek
let out a loud guffaw. “Has hell just frozen over and I missed it
somehow?”

Sir Jonas eyed Alex for a few moments,
before a flicker of understanding traveled between them. “No. This
is no great surprise. The Hardwickes have always been about family
first—we should’ve expected one of them to give in soon. Hell,
Somerton himself beat Alex to the punch several years
ago.”

Derek nodded. “True, true. So when
will you leave the masses of eligible gentlemen?” he asked. “I
assume Somerton will insist on a lavish affair, even if your mother
hasn’t. Where is she?” Derek asked as he looked about the
ballroom.

Alex scanned the crowd for only a
moment before he found his mother’s unmistakable coiffure across
the way. “Just over there,” he said with an impatient wave of his
hand.

“
No, you numbskull, not
your mother. Your betrothed. I don’t believe I have made her
acquaintance before.”

“
Grace is not here. She’s
in Somerton or Bath or somewhere with her aunt and uncle. Actually,
she may be on her way to Town, now that I think of it.” He paused a
beat, again debating how much should be spoken before a gathered
crowd. There could be no telling how many gossips had their ears
tuned in their direction. “Chatham didn’t approve. He has an
arrangement with Lord Barrow.” The words were bitter on his
tongue.