Read Tenacious Trents 02 - A Perfect Gentleman Online
Authors: Jane Charles
Tags: #regency romance jane charles vicar england historical tenacious trents
“I know, I know. You think I should
marry.”
He offered a quick nod.
“But I don’t want to marry any of them,” she
whispered so not to be overheard.
He tilted his head. After two years, she knew
he asked why.
“I don’t love them, and they don’t love me,
and I don’t see there ever being love.”
He shook his head in a slow manner.
Disappointment showed in his faded green eyes, taking the sparkle
out.
Grace reached over and grabbed his hand.
“Besides, I want to stay here, with you.”
He pulled his hand away and grabbed his right
ring finger again. They had similar discussions in the past and she
knew, or at least thought she knew, he wanted her married and not
stuck here for years taking care of him.
“Papa, how can I leave home? Who would take
care of you?”
He raised his left arm and with his thumb
pointed to the door. Was he telling her to get out? He had never
before suggested so strongly she leave and her heart
constricted.
Mrs. Thomas walked back through the door and
Grace relaxed a bit. Her father wasn’t kicking her out, but telling
her Mrs. Thomas would see to him. It was a relief, but surely he
understood that Mrs. Thomas could not be here all of the time. She
only came in the morning and left before dinner because she had her
own family. Though her children were now married and moved away,
she did have a husband of her own to take care of.
“The tea and biscuits have been delivered,
Miss Cooper.”
“Very well, I suppose I should see to my
guests.” She rose and kissed her father on the cheek before she
made her way to the parlor.
The three gentlemen stood at various places
in the room. Mr. Richards, with his blond hair and brown eyes
leaned negligently against the fireplace mantle. There was a
feminine quality about Mr. Richards that always seemed odd to her,
not that she would ever mention to anyone. Mr. Draker stood by the
bookshelf. His black hair was askew and she suspected he brought
his curricle on this call. He drummed his fingers with impatience
upon the shelf. Mr. Thorn, with his red hair and hazel eyes, stood
at the window. She wondered if he had eavesdropped on her
conversation with her father then doubted he could hear much as
they had sat further away and on the other side of the door.
Mrs. Thomas followed her in, picked up her
embroidery and settled into the seat she often occupied while Grace
met with guests.
“Good afternoon, Gentlemen. It is a surprise
to see all three of you here.”
She sat in the chair at the end of the center
table. There were two settees she bypassed, because then one of her
suitors would have to sit next to her. Mr. Draker settled on the
settee to her left and Mr. Thorn sat in the opposite seat.
Apparently, they didn’t want to sit next to each other either.
She reached forward and grasped the teapot
handle to pour the tea. “Mr. Richards, two sugars, correct?”
He nodded his head and she handed him the
cup.
“Mr. Draker, I believe you only like
milk?”
“Yes, thank you.” He took the saucer from her
hand, his fingers brushed hers. Grace tried not to yank her hand
back.
“I believe you don’t take anything, Mr.
Thorn?”
He smiled at her. “It is kind of you to
remember.”
She held the plate up. “Biscuits anyone?”
Only Mr. Draker took one, but he had no chance to touch her
again.
Grace poured her own cup of tea, sipped and
waited for one of them to speak. They looked at each other, as if
waiting for someone to begin the conversation.
Mrs. Thomas stood and walked out of the room.
Grace would have asked why she was leaving her father untended but
she did not want to run after the woman and leave these gentlemen
sitting again. Besides, if Mrs. Thomas left, she had good reason
and since she didn’t appear to be hurried, Grace decided not to be
concerned.
“It is lovely weather we are having, isn’t
it.” Grace offered so at least someone was speaking at this
uncomfortable gathering.
“Yes, yes it is,” Mr. Thorn was quick to
agree.
Mr. Richards placed his cup and saucer on the
table. “Miss Cooper, we did not come here to discuss the
weather.”
She smiled at him. “It would be a very short
conversation if you had.”
Mrs. Thomas walked back through the room.
This time she carried a tray with a cup and saucer, and a plate of
biscuits. Grace wondered who had called. Lord Crew was away
visiting his daughter and new grandchild and he was the only
gentlemen she knew of who cut through the woods and hills
separating the two estates to visit her father. She would always be
grateful to her father’s old friend because he still called, after
all this time and would sit with her father for hours. Too bad Lord
Crew didn’t have any eligible sons, not that they would consider a
poor and destitute gentleman’s daughter, but it would have been
easier to marry into a family who would not consider her father
less worthy because of his injuries.
“We, the three of us, think it is time you
made a decision,” Mr. Draker announced.
Grace placed her tea on the table and sat
back. “Decision?”
“Yes, which one of us are you going to
marry?” Mr. Richards clarified.
Goodness, she was thankful to have set her
drink down or she may have spilled it on her gown. “Marriage?”
“Clearly it has not escaped your notice that
each of us has been courting you,” Mr. Draker talked down to her.
Of the three, he was the one she liked the least. Though he was
solicitous, there were times he spoke to her as if she were a child
and Grace knew she could never marry a man who thought so little of
her intellect.
“I have suspected.”
“Though I don’t wish to be indelicate, Miss
Grace, you are getting on in years and it is time you marry before
it is too late,” Mr. Thorn offered.
She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing
at Mr. Thorn. Of the three, he was the kindest in his wording. He
often started his sentences, when something was uncomfortable, “I
don’t wish to be indelicate”, or “I don’t wish to insult”, or
something similar. However, at the age of twenty she did not think
she was even close to spinsterhood.
“I appreciate your concern, Mr. Thorn.”
“So, which one of us will it be?” Mr.
Richards demanded. He was the least patient of the three. Always to
the point. She wondered if that is what made him a successful
businessman.
She studied each gentleman. While they had
something to recommend them individually, there were more reasons
they would not suit her. This was not going to be easy but as they
had pressed the issue, it was time she informed them of her
thoughts.
“I cannot marry at this time in my life.
Surely you understand.”
Mr. Richards stood. “No, I do not
understand.” He walked behind the settee and paced.
“I cannot leave my father. Who would take
care of him?”
This time Mr. Thorn stood. “Miss Cooper, I
would be honored to take care of you and your father. You need not
worry about him.”
That was the first time anyone made this
offer.
“Of course, you would need to live at my
home, but there is plenty of room for all of us. It is a large
house. Why, even with your father in residence there is still
plenty of room for any children we are blessed with.”
Her stomach clenched. The idea of having
children, or the means required to obtain such children, was not
something she wished to experience with anyone in the room. Not
that she knew exactly what people did to conceive a child, but she
had lived in the country her entire life, was familiar with mating
rituals of animals and didn’t want any of these three that close to
her person, assuming humans performed a similar act.
“This is my father’s home. I could not even
think of removing him from it. Besides, who would take care of the
house and lands if I no longer lived here?”
Mr. Richards sat forward. “I would hire a
house full of servants. They could take care of your father, and
the land. I see no reason why you couldn’t visit him up to once a
week to see how he fared.”
Once a week? If she did marry and move away,
she would certainly want to visit her father more often than
that.
“It isn’t as if he would even know whether
you were here or not,” Mr. Richards continued.
Anger shot through her and Grace stood. “He
most certainly would know, Mr. Richards.”
“Come now, Miss, Cooper,” Mr. Draker began.
“We know he can’t speak and can barely take care of himself. The
accident reduced him to a simpleton. A child of five has more
comprehension than your father.”
Graced seethed. They knew nothing about her
father. Had they once bothered to sit with him after the accident?
No. In fact, few in the village knew anything about the progress
he’d made and assumed his lack of speech meant he could no longer
think or feel for that matter.
She looked at each of them. They watched her,
sympathy in their eyes. Yes, seeing her father reduced to being
able to use only his left arm and hand, and only communicate with
his face or touch was difficult, but he was still an intelligent
man. She would never consider handing his care over to anyone who
could not see that.
“My answer is no, to each of you.”
Their jaws dropped. How could they expect her
answer to be anything else? If anyone was a simpleton, it was
they.
“Miss Grace, I insist you reconsider. It is
for your own good.”
“I can decide for myself, what is for my own
good, Mr. Draker.”
“But someone needs to take care of you. A
young woman needs a man to look out for her best interests.”
She turned to Mr. Thorn. “I am well capable
of determining my own best interests.”
“How long before your uncle arrives to take
over? We know he would make you marry one of us and not care what
happened to your father.”
That was her biggest fear. “I thank you for
your concern, Mr. Richards, but I will deal with my uncle, if and
when he ever comes to visit.”
“Which should be shortly, I assume,” Mr.
Draker added.
A chill of foreboding ran up her spine. “Why
do you expect my uncle to visit since he has not bothered to in
well over two years?”
“Someone had to prevail upon him. As your
next of kin, he should come and take responsibility of you and your
father.”
How dare they make such a decision? It was
not in their right to do so. She could only pray her uncle ignored
the letter.
“We each wrote to him, Miss Cooper,” Mr.
Richards added.
Her stomach tightened and Grace feared she
would be ill.
“He is now made aware of our regard for you
and can make his decision when he arrives.”
Grace shot to her feet. “It is not his
decision to make.”
“There, there, Miss Cooper, there is no need
to become emotional.”
“I am not emotional,” she bit out. “I am
livid.”
They each stared at her as if she had gone
mad. “If you are leaving this to my uncle, why bother to visit me
today?”
“We had hoped you would at least announce
which one you are partial to so that we can make the request to
your uncle, and rightful guardian.”
She inhaled deeply through her nose, closed
her eyes and willed herself to be calm before she did physical
damage to one of them. The vase by the window would suffice for
crashing over one of their heads.
When she gained control of her anger, Grace
opened her eyes. They each stood there looking at her, expectantly.
Did they think she had changed her mind? “Gentlemen, my answer is
still no. Now, I need to get back to my father and I wish you all a
good day.”
She marched from the room and stopped short
of the door when she turned to them once again. “Besides, not one
of you actually
asked
for my hand in marriage. I would never
marry a man who gave me so little consideration, regardless of
whether my uncle orders it or not.” She whipped her chin up, turned
and strode from the room without a backward glance.
The best part about living in this area of
the country was the wooded trails and rolling hills. Matthew found
it quicker and more enjoyable than riding on the road and the land
reminded him of his family estate. Several paths turned off and he
learned these led to the roads or drives of several properties. He
didn’t know if others used these trails for hunting and remained
alert to anyone else around. He would hate to be shot by
accident.
He veered to the left and took a path he
hadn’t tried before. It wove up to a lovely pasture. To his left
several cows grazed, kept from wandering by long lines of fence. He
rode further up the hill and anticipated he would come to a road or
drive soon. When he crested the rise, he spotted a dark brick manor
house. It was not his intention to emerge so close to someone’s
home. A man sat on the terrace and watched him. Matthew did not
think he could ride away without a word. Besides, he had not met
this particular gentleman before and thought it a good opportunity
to make his acquaintance. Usually one went to the door, left their
card and waited to be announced. Instead, he rode up to the terrace
and dismounted.