Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

“ A llan, I’ve arranged for us to have guests for the next three days, and they’ll be arriving shortly, so I would appreciate it if you’d take the time to make yourself presentable.”

Allan stared at his grandmother. “What on Earth are you talking about?” he demanded. “I didn’t give permission for you to invite anyone to Harbeck Estate.”

“Yes, there’s a reason I did it without seeking your permission,” she informed him. “You wouldn’t have given your blessing if I had asked, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t. Who exactly are these people?”

“The Baroness of Manning and her daughter, Miss Catherine.”

“I’ve never even heard of them,” Allan said. “They aren’t friends of yours, are they?”

“We met recently.”

“And you saw fit to invite them to the house without discussing it with me?” Allan sighed. “You’re very lucky that I can’t tell them to get right back in their carriage and return home—I’d do just that if it didn’t constitute such rude behavior. What on Earth possessed you?”

“The young lady is a debutante this season, and her mother is determined to see her married.”

“What of that? Every debutante’s mother dreams of a match in her first season. I fail to see what it has to do with us.”

“You know perfectly well that it’s past time you made a match, Allan. Miss Catherine is young and beautiful and will happily marry you if you find her to your liking.”

“I might have known it was something like this. Do you truly think it’ll be this easy to back me into a corner? I’m not going to marry this young lady, no matter how beautiful she may be. I certainly hope you haven’t given them any expectations. If you have, it will reflect poorly on the both of us.”

“You should wait and get to know her before you make any decisions about what you will or won’t do. You might find that you like her more than you expect to.”

“Grandmother, how is this going to look given the fact that I am supposed to be involved in a courtship with Lady Edwina?”

“Allan, you told me yourself that your involvement with Lady Edwina wasn’t to be taken seriously. Didn’t you indicate that you saw no future with that young lady and that you continued to see her only as a means of finding the lady who is to be your duchess?”

“I didn’t put it like that.” The truth was that Allan knew he had spoken of Lady Edwina in almost exactly those terms, and it was difficult to hear his words repeated back to him. They sounded harsher than he would ever have intended them to.

And it was also true that his feelings had changed somewhat. Since the last time he had seen Edwina—since the kiss they’d shared—he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. He didn’t know what to do about that. He needed to get her off of his mind. Especially now. She had indicated that she didn’t want to see him again.

Allan wasn’t sure what he was going to do about that. He wasn’t the sort of man to take no for an answer when he was in pursuit of something he wanted—it felt strange to give up so quickly. On the other hand, he also wasn’t one to beg. And his grandmother was right, as far as that went—there were plenty of young ladies who would have him. Plenty of young ladies would be grateful for a scrap of his attention, as a matter of fact. They wouldn’t act as though they were doing him a favor by spending time in his company, the way Lady Edwina always had.

Perhaps this Miss Catherine would be that sort.

Only a baron’s daughter, but Allan didn’t care so much about that. If a lady was charming and witty and beautiful, he wasn’t overly concerned with who her father might be. She would be a duchess if she married him, and that was what really mattered.

“I’ll meet her,” he told his grandmother.

She relaxed visibly, betraying that she had, in fact, been nervous about his response to all this. “I knew you would,” she said. “You’ve always been a sensible young man.”

“I said I would meet her,” Allan clarified. “I’m not promising anything beyond conversation, Grandmother.”

“Of course not, dear.”

“And I won’t have you inviting people to the house like this. In the future, you must consult with me before issuing this sort of invitation. If you don’t do that, I really will turn your guest away at the door next time, and I won’t think twice about it.”

The Baroness and Miss Catherine arrived about an hour later.

Allan saw at once what his grandmother had meant about Miss Catherine—she really was a beauty. She was slender and willowy and barely stood as high as his shoulder, and her chestnut-colored hair looked soft and inviting. Her eyes were wide, and her lips were full and soft, and if she had been a painting, he thought he would have found no fault with her.

But he had higher expectations of young ladies than he did of paintings.

They began a tour around the house. Allan’s grandmother linked arms with the Baroness, and the two of them walked ahead a little bit, leaving Allan to entertain Miss Catherine.

“How are you enjoying the season so far?” he asked her.

“Oh, it’s been delightful,” she said eagerly. “So many parties! I feel as if I could attend one every night and never tire of them.”

“You enjoy parties, then?”

“Goodness, doesn’t everyone? I think they must be the finest thing in life.”

Allan found himself imagining what Edwina would have said to such a statement as that. In fact, he pictured telling her about it and was hit with a shock of disappointment when he remembered that the two of them would no longer be socializing. There would be no opportunity for him to report on this conversation. It felt sort of tragic. She would have found it deeply amusing.

He tried to focus his attention on Miss Catherine. Perhaps he had misunderstood her intent. “When you say parties are the finest thing in life, surely that’s only a figure of speech?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Was she merely asking for clarification, or was she telling him that she didn’t know what a figure of speech was? Allan wasn’t sure he wanted to know that answer.

He tried his best to explain without seeming condescending. “I’m wondering whether you truly think parties are more enjoyable than anything else,” he said. “Surely great works of art and literature must be worthy of more esteem than a simple ball.”

“It sounds to me as though you just haven’t been to any really good balls, Your Grace,” Mis Catherine beamed. “But perhaps we can arrange one while my mother and I are here. I would enjoy that ever so much.”

“You and your mother are only here for a few short days,” Allan reminded her. He was already feeling grateful for the brevity of their stay. “I’m afraid there won’t be time to arrange a ball.”

“I do wish one had been planned,” Miss Catherine said wistfully. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with this time.”

“I’m sure we can find something to pass the time. I have a painting I wouldn’t mind getting your opinion on.”

“I don’t know anything about paintings,” Miss Catherine said with a tone of such happy innocence that Allan was sure must be the truth. “I wouldn’t know where to begin, I’m afraid.”

“Well, that’s all right. I’m happy to help you learn about art since we’ve been given this time together.”

Miss Catherine shrugged. “I’m not interested,” she said frankly. “I don’t know anything about art, and I don’t care to.”

“What about books?” He recalled choosing the texts he had for Edwina. Perhaps he and Miss Catherine would be able to connect over something like that.”

“Books hardly seem a proper interest for a young lady,” Miss Catherine said. “I don’t believe any gentleman truly wishes for a young lady who reads—surely you can’t mean to suggest otherwise.”

“There are plenty of ladies who read,” Allan argued.

“Perhaps, but in my opinion, they all have something wrong with them.”

“Something wrong with them?”

“Perhaps they aren’t lovely to look at,” Miss Catherine suggested. “Or they lack social graces, or…” She trailed off.

“Or what? What more were you about to say?”

“Forgive me, Your Grace, it’s just that…I know you’ve been spending time with the unattainable spinster as of late.”

“I think everyone knows that,” Allan said. “I haven’t made a secret of it.”

“Of course. I only bring it up because she is the sort of lady I can imagine being very interested in books. Perhaps you’ve come to expect that all ladies are going to be the same as she is.”

“I haven’t come to expect anything at all. I also don’t welcome conversation about Lady Edwina,” he added. “I don’t appreciate speculation about her.”

“I don’t suppose—might I ask you a question?”

Allan had the feeling he wasn’t going to like the question very much. “Ask, if you must,” he said.

“I wondered whether you intend to marry her.”

“I don’t have any intention of marrying anyone at all at the moment,” Allan said.

“Oh,” Miss Catherine replied. “My mother seemed to think that it was your intention to marry this season, Your Grace.”

“Your mother was mistaken. I have not declared any intentions at all,” he said. “When I meet the right young lady, the perfect one to be my duchess, I shall entertain thoughts of marriage. But not until.”

Miss Catherine nodded. “I’m not dissuaded,” she told him. “I believe I may be the young lady you seek, Your Grace.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t hold out too much hope,” he warned. “I don’t want to disappoint you, Miss Catherine, but I don’t want to mislead you either.”

“We hardly know one another,” she pointed out. “You may find that I am what you’re looking for, and you simply don’t realize it yet.”

In fact, Allan was confident. This short conversation had been enough to assure him that he had no further interest in Miss Catherine. She seemed almost unbearably shallow when compared with Lady Edwina—though, of course, he shouldn’t be comparing anyone with Lady Edwina since he couldn’t have her.

And there was still the problem of the fact that he would have to spend the next three days in Miss Catherine’s company. He didn’t want that time to be made unbearable, so he wouldn’t tell her what he truly thought of her. There was no need.

He was resolved, though, to avoid her company as much as he possibly could, and his frustration with his grandmother for putting them in this situation mounted. He would make sure she understood that this was unacceptable—that she must never again invite anyone to the house without his express permission. If he allowed this to go by without making that abundantly clear, he could see what it would lead to—a parade of young ladies traipsing through the house, someone new every weekend with an eager mother on her arm. He must make it clear to his grandmother that he would marry when he found the right young lady and that there was nothing she could do or say to hasten that process along.

For now, he would do his best to be polite and accommodating. He was not interested in Miss Catherine, but she’d done nothing wrong. There was no reason to be discourteous.

But he found, to his own shock and confusion, that being around her only made him miss Lady Edwina more than ever.