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Chapter 9

Though Tamsin had clung to her optimism regarding her impending marriage, she'd awakened in the middle of the night from a dream in which Droxford had banished her to Cornwall while he carried on very publicly with a mistress in London. While unsettling, the dream was preposterous. Tamsin couldn't imagine Droxford swanning about London with a mistress on his arm.

She wondered how early he'd left that morning and what the others at the Grove had said to him, if anything. Had he even seen them? She was particularly curious if Min or Ellis had encountered him, and if so, what had transpired. Tamsin would find out shortly when they arrived. Persephone had sent a note earlier that she'd invited the others to join her and Pandora in visiting Tamsin today, which Tamsin didn't at all mind.

The sound of people in the entry hall signaled someone's arrival. Tamsin waited in the drawing room, and a moment later, Persephone and Pandora entered.

"You don't have to go through with this," Pandora said without preamble as she made her way toward Tamsin.

Persephone cast her sister an impatient look from the corner of her eye. "Good afternoon, Tamsin."

Pandora moved to sit on a dark-gold settee. "I'm sure Tamsin is unconcerned with pleasantries. We are her dearest friends, and she is in a crisis."

"It isn't really a crisis," Tamsin said. She hated to cause anyone trouble or upset. And in this case, she desperately wanted to protect Pandora from the memories of last year. However, it was precisely because of last year that this was likely a crisis in Pandora's eyes.

"Don't tell me you're being ridiculously optimistic about this too?" Pandora asked.

Persephone glared at Pandora as she sat down beside her. "Should she become cynical like you?"

Tamsin took the chair near the settee. "I can't help being optimistic, just as I know this entire mess has surely aroused all of Pandora's worst memories."

"Thank you," Pandora murmured. "I just hate that this happened to you. Mrs. Lawler is a menace."

"My grandmother has a new name for her," Tamsin said. "Mrs. Loose-Lips."

Pandora laughed with delight, and the tension eased. When she sobered, she apologized to Tamsin. "I will not be cynical. Not about you and Droxford."

"Thank you. Truly, this is not the worst thing." Before Tamsin could say more, the others arrived.

Min and Ellis sat on the settee opposite Pandora and Persephone, while Gwen, whom they'd fetched from the hotel on their way, took the chair at the other end of the seating arrangement.

"Please tell me we haven't missed anything," Min said.

"Not at all," Persephone assured her.

Tamsin turned toward Min. "Did Droxford leave this morning?"

Min gave her a sympathetic smile. "Yes, he departed early. We didn't see him—not last night or today."

"He didn't call on you this morning?" Gwen asked.

Tamsin shook her head. "I didn't expect him to. He'd already planned to return home today. He told me before…what happened in the garden."

"Yes, please tell us exactly what happened," Pandora urged. "Unless you'd prefer not to."

"I don't mind telling you," Tamsin said. "Ironically, Droxford was behaving in a most gentlemanly fashion."

"Because he is not a rogue," Persephone said. "And he is doing the responsible thing by marrying you."

Tamsin nodded. "Yes. He takes full responsibility, particularly because of the way he reacted to Mr. Brimble."

"Please explain this Mr. Brimble person," Ellis said, and everyone looked at Tamsin expectantly.

Tamsin told them how he was a friend of her father's and had come to escort her to St. Austell for their wedding, that he believed them to be betrothed already.

"Did your father tell him that, or did he leap to his own conclusion?" Persephone asked crossly. "I cannot abide meddling parents." That made sense because of the way her parents had interfered in her life.

"I don't know," Tamsin replied, going on to detail what happened next, with Brimble insisting they were betrothed and trying to grab her and Droxford warning him not to touch her again.

"But he did?" Gwen asked, her eyes widening slightly.

Tamsin nodded. "That's when Droxford hit him."

Min smiled. "You have to agree that it's very romantic, the way he defended you."

That made Tamsin think of what he'd said, how she deserved protection. "I don't know if it's romantic, but it's certainly thoughtful."

"What happened next?" Gwen asked. "Had the baron planned to propose before Brimble made a nuisance of himself?"

"No. Droxford saw the certain scandal with Mrs. Loose-Lips—because she was clear about what she thought she was seeing—and immediately announced our betrothal."

Pandora sniggered. "Mrs. Loose-Lips is perfect."

"Credit my grandmother," Tamsin said with a grin.

"What did she think she was seeing?" Min asked.

"I believe she said a tête-à-tête, and then she witnessed Droxford hitting Brimble. She drew her own conclusions—that they were fighting over me." Tamsin rolled her eyes.

"Weren't they, though?" Persephone asked.

Tamsin hadn't really considered that. "I don't think so. Droxford merely prevented the man from overstepping. Brimble was behaving most obnoxiously."

"Sounds as though he deserved it," Ellis observed.

"I still don't think you have to go through with the betrothal," Pandora said, her brow furrowed. "I can't see this being a problem for you in sleepy St. Austell."

Tamsin didn't tell her that she was repeating Tamsin's own initial reaction, and she didn't disagree with Pandora's assessment. Pandora had been to St. Austell. She knew how remote it was.

"You could say that you don't suit after all," Min suggested. "If that's what you want. Do you want to avoid the marriage?"

Droxford's insistence that they wed came back to Tamsin, along with this plea that she let him do the right thing. How could she deny him that? And as she'd told her grandmother, there were worse things than marrying a baron.

"You're taking too long to answer," Pandora said. "You must cry off."

"No, I mustn't. Honestly, I'd begun to look forward to getting married after my father sent that letter about a suitor. Droxford and I get on rather well, at least as friends, and I've every reason to believe we can have a pleasant marriage."

Persephone arched a brow. "I will hope it's more than pleasant."

"Aren't you worried you may be too different?" Gwen asked, her brow also pleated. Indeed, they were all regarding her with grave concern. "He's so dour, and you are so cheerful."

Tamsin actually hadn't spent much time dwelling on that since last night, but now she would. Or at least consider it. "We do have different temperaments," she said slowly. "But sometimes that's for the best, isn't it? Each person balances the other."

"What a wonderfully optimistic attitude." Persephone winked at Tamsin. "Not that I'm surprised."

"I hate to think of you being trapped in a marriage without love," Gwen said. "You at least deserve affection."

"I think we have that," Tamsin said. "Last night, before Brimble interrupted us, Droxford gave me a whole cockleshell."

Min's nostrils flared. "Did he know you've been looking for that?" At Tamsin's nod, she added, "That is a very special gift."

"I did think he might kiss me just after that, but that's when Brimble came along."

Gwen's eyes rounded. "Oh! Perhaps we must all share your optimism, then."

"You have time to change your mind," Pandora put in. "If you want. Just know that we will support you no matter what."

Everyone joined in with their agreement.

"I'm still concerned their personalities are too different—he is so broody," Min said.

"We will find our way," Tamsin said with a bright smile. They simply had to.

Gwen looked to Tamsin. "I don't suppose you're staying in Weston until the end of August?"

Tamsin shook her head. "Grandmama and I think it's best if we remove to St. Austell in a few days to prepare for the wedding."

"Is it wrong of me to be selfishly disappointed that once again our wonderful summer time together has been irreparably interrupted?" Ellis asked.

"You are being kind by saying interrupted," Pandora said sardonically. "I would say ruined. Next year, we must find a way to guard our August from Mrs. Loose-Lips. And from rogues."

"Droxford isn't a rogue, though," Tamsin pointed out. Of that, she was absolutely certain. A rogue would not have made her feel utterly safe and protected or important and valued.

Tamsin's friends stayed awhile longer and made plans to join her in St. Austell a few days before the ceremony. She sensed they weren't entirely convinced this marriage was the right choice, but Tamsin didn't want to defend it to them. Droxford had persuaded her that they needed to wed. Aside from avoiding scandal and another disastrous match organized by her father, Tamsin wanted to be married. She was eager for the chance to have the family she didn't, to be the mother she'd lacked. And she saw the possibility for happiness.

She couldn't turn away from that chance.

* * *

Tamsin had to awaken her grandmother when they arrived in St. Austell. "We're nearly to Penrose House, Grandmama."

Lifting her head from the small pillow she'd tucked between her head and the side of the coach, Grandmama blinked her eyes open. "Already?"

Hiding a smile, Tamsin nodded. It had been a long day of travel, and unlike her grandmother, Tamsin found it difficult to sleep in a moving coach. Particularly in Cornwall, where the roads were not as well developed.

A few minutes later, they arrived at Penrose House and stepped out of the coach. The day was quite fine, with a clear blue sky and a brilliant sun warming the late afternoon. A seabird squawked as it flew overhead, as if welcoming Tamsin home.

The door opened before they reached it, and Mrs. Treen, the housekeeper, smiled widely upon seeing them. At sixty, with white hair and a round frame, she was the closest thing to a mother Tamsin had known. "Welcome home, Tamsin."

Tamsin embraced the woman, then turned toward her grandmother. "You remember my grandmother, Mrs. Dewhurst."

"Of course I do," Mrs. Treen said with a touch of reverence. "I'm sorry it has been so long since we've seen you."

Thinking back, Tamsin realized her grandmother—and grandfather when he'd been alive—hadn't visited Penrose House since Tamsin was ten, the year after her mother had died. Following that, Tamsin had always visited them in Weston. Because her father and grandparents did not get on well.

"I'm sorry too," Grandmama said. "I have always been grateful for your presence here, Mrs. Treen. It has given me immense comfort over the years."

Mrs. Treen blushed. "Tamsin means a great deal to me, to all of us here at Penrose House. We love her like our own."

Grandmama smiled brightly. "I could not ask for more."

"Look at my lack of hospitality!" Mrs. Treen declared. "Come inside immediately."

She held the door wide, and Tamsin gestured for her grandmother to precede her. Once they were in the entrance hall, they removed their hats, and Mrs. Treen eagerly accepted them. "I'll fetch some lemonade and cakes. Unless you'd prefer to retreat directly to your rooms." She looked to Tamsin with a pleated brow. "Though, I'm afraid your father requested you attend him in his study as soon as you arrived."

Grandmama looked aghast. "He can't even be bothered to leave his hermitage to greet her?"

Tamsin stifled a laugh at Grandmama's use of the word hermitage to describe her father's study. It wasn't wrong.

"He's in the middle of a project," Mrs. Treen said somewhat lamely, as if she didn't want to say it.

"Isn't he always?" Grandmama sniffed.

"Don't fret, Grandmama," Tamsin reassured her. "You rest in the sitting room, and I'll be along shortly." She couldn't imagine her father would spare much time to speak with her if he was busy with something. Still, he would want to congratulate her on her marriage and ask about her betrothed.

"I'll be waiting," Grandmama said.

As Tamsin walked to her father's study, apprehension ticked up her spine. In her letter to him, she'd shared her betrothal to the Baron Droxford before apologizing for not making a match with Brimble. He had not responded, but then she'd told him not to for they would shortly be traveling to Cornwall.

Why was she worried? Or course he would be happy for her, even though she wasn't marrying his friend.

The door to his study was closed, as usual, and Tamsin knocked softly as required. "Papa, it's me." Announcing oneself was also a necessity.

She realized the stark difference between living at her grandmother's cottage and residing here at Penrose House. Here, there were strict rules and expectations, particularly surrounding her father. She'd followed those because it had not only been easiest but seemed to make him happy, which in turn, made her happy. She dearly hoped that her happiness—her upcoming marriage—would make him happy.

"Come in."

Tamsin opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind her. The study was dark and masculine, with oak bookcases lining the walls and heavy amber drapes on the windows. Besides the desk at which her father practically lived, there was a large table where he laid things out that he was researching. There were no seating areas, just the chair at his desk, another near the hearth where he liked to read at night, and two other wooden ones he moved about the room as necessary. Again, she was struck by how different it felt to be at Penrose House after being at her grandmother's.

"It's good to see you, Papa," Tamsin said cheerfully.

Of average height, with graying brown hair and hazel eyes, Charles Penrose looked up toward Tamsin, his gold-rimmed spectacles perched on the middle of his nose. Removing them, he set the glasses atop his desk. Rather, on the open book that was there.

"You look well. I trust your journey wasn't too taxing."

Tamsin relaxed. If he had time to make pleasant chitchat, he likely wasn't angry with her.

"It was quite tolerable, even for Grandmama."

Papa's nose wrinkled, but he said nothing about his mother-in-law. Perhaps there was another reason for his reaction. He fixed Tamsin with a perturbed stare, and she perhaps had her answer. "I was most upset to receive your letter."

Tamsin's pulse quickened with a spike of anxiety. He was angry. "You were upset to learn I am betrothed to Lord Droxford? Surely that is happy news, Papa."

"Not when I'd expected you to marry Octavius. I told you I'd chosen a husband for you."

Staring at her father, Tamsin pushed through her surprise at his reaction. He truly wasn't happy for her, and he'd absolutely expected her to marry his friend—not just to consider him, but to wed him. "You also neglected to tell me who that was, Papa. I've known Mr. Brimble my whole life. He's your friend. He's not…a suitor. Not for me, anyway."

Papa pursed his lips. "He was a perfectly acceptable suitor. Plenty of young ladies marry older men."

"I suppose they do," Tamsin said evenly. "However, it happens I am going to marry a younger man. Furthermore, Mr. Brimble did not behave as a gentleman ought. He was presumptuous about our betrothal, which was not finalized, and was much too forward."

"From his letter, I gather that he was only trying to settle the betrothal with you, and you did not allow him the courtesy."

"I wasn't rude." Tamsin was growing frustrated. "I wish you wouldn't take his version as the absolute truth. He tried to grab me without my consent. Surely that doesn't recommend him."

Papa's eyes rounded briefly. "I did not realize." He coughed. "Well, I'm sure it was all a misunderstanding. Brimble is a good man. He would have made you a fine husband."

Had he heard her correctly? Tamsin was suddenly struck with a barrage of memories where she either hadn't felt listened to by him or he hadn't even bothered to listen. All her hurts, both physical and otherwise, had been tended to by Mrs. Treen. How many times had she tried to speak to him at dinner only for his attention to be directed on a book he'd brought to the table. He'd distractedly respond to her, but had he actually heard what she'd said? She recalled one instance in particular when she'd excitedly told him about finding a rock that looked like a shell—it was the most peculiar thing. He hadn't even spared a glance for her or the curiosity.

Tamsin's frustration mounted. "Aren't you pleased to hear I'm marrying a baron? His estate has eight hundred acres. And he's very involved in the Lords." She'd thought that would impress him.

"I was not pleased to learn he won't be coming until the day before the wedding. What sort of groom risks waiting to arrive until the last minute? One who's fallen into the parson's trap and doesn't really wish to wed."

"That isn't true," she argued, hating this conflict between them. But was it worse than his usual silence? "Droxford is merely busy." In truth, she was bothered by this news. She would write to him immediately and ask him about it.

"Why did you decide to marry him?" her father asked, pulling her focus back to their discussion.

She was not going to explain the truth of the matter. It didn't signify, especially to her father who had never cared to ask her things before. He hadn't even been interested in her marrying before a few weeks ago!

"I'm marrying him because he's a good man, and we'll be happy together." Tamsin was glad she didn't have to convince Grandmama. After her friends' skepticism and now her father's near hostility, it was nice to have at least one person who was happy for her.

Her father grunted in response.

"Papa, I must ask why you thought Brimble was a good choice for me. I don't see that we have much in common."

"You seemed to enjoy his visits. He's a good friend, a highly intelligent man. You do such a fine job taking care of me. I thought you would be delighted to do the same for him." Papa said all this in a rather matter-of-fact manner, as if it were obvious. "I must say, I can't see you as a baron's wife. Are you truly ready to take on London Society? You don't know the first thing, and I certainly can't guide you."

His lack of faith in her stole every last bit of her optimism. It was one thing not to like her choice of husband but to question her abilities was just…cold. But then he'd been cold her entire life. Or at least since her mother had gone. Though, she didn't really remember him being anything other than focused on his work. She'd just chosen to believe he cared about more than that, that he cared about her. It seemed as though that had all been an illusion created by her need to find joy and not feel disappointment or despair. Years of pushing that away crashed down on her as she saw the truth. She was alone here and had always been.

"I'm sorry you think that, Papa. After the way I've managed your household, from a very young age, I might add, and taken care of you, I would have thought you would have more faith in me. Why did you decide I should wed in the first place? You've never even hinted that you wanted me to marry. Indeed, you've discouraged me from attending assemblies or doing anything else that might foster meeting eligible gentlemen."

He coughed and picked up his glasses without looking at her. "It's always been in the back of my mind. And when Brimble suggested he was interested in marrying you, I thought it would be a fine match, as I just explained."

"So, it was Brimble's idea?" Tamsin asked.

"He suggested it, and I agreed the match had merit. Little did I know you had set your sights on a lofty baron." Now he glanced in her direction. "I never took you for a social climber, Tamsin."

Gasping, Tamsin felt a rare flash of anger. "I am not, and I can't imagine why you would think that of me. I became acquainted with Droxford in Weston, and we decided we would suit." She didn't like lying to her father, but she couldn't bear him doubting her marriage, not when he wasn't even in favor of it. "I would have thought you would talk to me about marriage. You didn't even ask if I wanted to wed." He'd never asked her about anything. It wasn't that she hadn't known that, but she was finally acknowledging his treatment of her.

And it hurt.

"You must be tired after your travels," he said gruffly. "I'll see you at dinner."

How many times had she waited for that, only for her to end up bringing his dinner here after he'd failed to come? "I hope so."

Did she? Or would she prefer to dine with just her grandmother? Grandmama would certainly be happy if her father didn't show up. And perhaps for the first time, Tamsin would like that too.

Soon enough, she would leave Penrose House for good. She was going to start a new life with a husband who wanted to protect her and put her first.

She wouldn't be lonely as she'd been here, since Droxford had already proven to be a wonderful companion whether he was keeping her company at a luncheon or hunting for shells on the beach. They may not have chosen this path, but they'd committed to it, and she had the chance to build a real marriage with Droxford.

Finding her optimism settled the upset she'd had with her father. She just needed to cling to that, as she'd always done.

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