Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

D aniel’s mother placed a scone on a plate and handed it to him along with a cup of tea. Without taking a bite, he put it on a table and frowned. She seemed more cheerful than was her custom, which meant her mood bordered on exuberant.

Miss Thorpe sat too close, but it felt desperate rather than romantic. With Mary disappeared, the girl had only Mrs. Eliot to advocate for her. Not that Mrs. Eliot shirked her duty in any way, but where was Mary? Mrs. Eliot would not tell him, and Miss Thorpe did not know.

He awoke that morning with the remembrance of the night before hovering like a black cloud, memories pelting him like a torrent of hail. He had withheld his connection to Miss Thorpe. She had withheld her identity as Lady Mary. While her betrayal cut deep, he expected time to resolve their dispute. After preparing for the day, he went to his study to wait on her return, cursing himself for his stupidity in believing his rash plot would work.

As the day revolved into afternoon, and he ate with his family and their guests in the drawing room, he admitted this hope was illusory. His plan failed, and he was strapped to Miss Thorpe. Even now, arrangements for the wedding rolled forth, earnestly discussed among the party, a disaster that arrived too quickly to subvert. Daniel sat mutely next to Miss Thorpe whose lack of appetite indicated she was also full of nerves.

His sister, Emma, strode into the room, her eyes landing on Miss Thorpe, and took a seat across from her. Miss Thorpe wilted against him, their shoulders touching. This girl required, even deserved, his care, but he lacked the patience to put her at ease. His thoughts anchored to Mary, Lady Mary , a woman unknown to him.

While Emma procured tea and cake, Daniel asked Louisa, “Did you know your aunt is Lady Mary?”

“Only by accident. I went looking for ink and found a letter from Mr. Porter. You will guess how shocked I was, but also…” She lowered her voice. “She inspired me.” She pressed her fingers against her lips. “Oh. You must not think…I did not mean she inspired me to…”

“I believe I understand you.” This child was not ready for marriage. Could he marry her? Did he have a choice?

“I only mean that it showed me I can make my own decisions.” She pulled a stole tight around her. “Though that lesson proved false,” she added with a frown.

“Miss Thorpe,” Andrew cut into their conversation. “How is it you and Daniel came to meet? Did he go all the way to Cornwall to find you?”

“Oh, no. We met quite by accident. In Bath.”

Andrew squinted at the two of them, likely trying to conjecture Mary’s role in all of this.

Emma gestured for Miss Thorpe to sit by her. With a doe-eyed glance at Daniel, she moved to the seat next to her future sister. Let Louisa answer the uncomfortable questions. Though he knew it was not her fault, Daniel was angry at her, at Mary, at his parents. He needed someone to blame for the catastrophe, and Miss Thorpe was an easy target at that moment.

Daniel sagged deeper into the cushions of the settee. His mother’s tittering laughter drew his attention. She and Mrs. Eliot sat with their heads bent in conversation, chatting as if they’d known one another for years. “Mother, can I speak with you?”

She followed him into the library and took a seat in her favorite overstuffed chair, which sagged in pathetic contradiction to its name. Daniel poured a glass of port and sat across from her.

“Mrs. Eliot told me everything,” she said.

Daniel doubted that was true. If his mother knew everything, she may not be as joyous over the prospect of his marrying Miss Thorpe, but he would not be telling the tale.

She continued, “It seems Miss Thorpe has a lot of initiative for one so young. Did you know she’s been working as a lady’s companion?” His mother’s prattle irritated him.

“I want to talk about Mary.”

“ Lady Mary?”

“Yes. I thought you liked her.”

“I do. But I want grandchildren. She will not supply many of those.”

Daniel groaned. “This is not about you.”

“Isn’t it?” She grinned. “Well?”

“I would like to release Miss Thorpe from the engagement and wed Mary.” As he said it, a flood of calm washed clear the turmoil that stormed inside.

“You could do that, but your father’s will is written, and you would lose your inheritance. I have a feeling Lady Mary will not sign over her estate to us. She showed last night that she is not the woman we thought.”

“She’s better.” This truth reverberated in his bones.

“Perhaps, but not so useful to your father and me.”

All the animosity Daniel had vanquished a few nights ago resurfaced in a bitter pool beneath his sternum. “Wills can be altered, and you can trust me to take care of you.”

“I watched the way your eyes followed her, the smile that brightened your handsome face when she entered the room. You love her. But your father and I have decided. We have taken enough advantage of you. We cannot accept your help.”

“So, you’ll take from my future wife? Do you hear what you’re saying?” Resentment boiled in his chest. He did not want to reengage with his anger, but she infuriated him. He tempered his voice until it became a whisper. “Mother, why don’t you help me?”

She laughed in her flippant way. “I? Why don’t I help you? You are asking the wrong question, my dear. Why didn’t you help yourself? Did you expect me to declare your love for Lady Mary so you wouldn’t have to? To defend her while Emma called her book garbage? While I criticized her age and your father reduced her to an object whose worth depended on her ability to provide for him?” She demonstrated acute understanding while admitting her part in demeaning Mary.

“I don’t understand you. Why contribute to Mary’s pain?”

“I don’t understand you . Last night, I said what I thought, but you shriveled up. If I were you, I would go after what I wanted. Why is this castle so important to you? Why do you succumb to our manipulations?”

“Why are you manipulating me?”

She laughed. “We are terrible parents. I know this. Your father is determined for you to marry Miss Thorpe. All your choices oppose his values. You went to school when he wanted to educate you. You went to Smith’s Bank when he wanted your forgiveness for his idiotic investments that cost us so much. He doesn’t care so much about Miss Thorpe’s property as he does for getting your compliance.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Don’t I know it. Though a snug cottage would benefit me to no end.”

It didn’t matter enough to her. For all her talk of the importance of love, she would not advocate for him. “I cannot speak to you if you won’t be serious.”

She took his hand, her smile gone. “I am very serious. This is not a matter in which I can help. I observed your behavior while the woman you purport to love was taken down by the entire family.” She pulled a face. “Myself included. You did nothing. I question if she mattered to you at all. If I were her, I would not think you loved me at all.”

She was right. “What should I do?”

“Tell Miss Thorpe you love Mary. Simple. Get what you want most.”

Now that she was taking his side, his sense of justice rose. “But she lied to me. She hid her identity from me.”

“You are no stranger to deceit, love. What are you willing to forgive? What are you willing to sacrifice? Make the right choice, and it will all come to rights.”

“Miss Thorpe’s reputation is at risk. Our marriage will save her. That is what Mary wants.”

“Does she indeed?” His mother raised a brow. “How do you know?”

“She told me as much.”

His mother narrowed her eyes at him. “Anything else?”

“It is possible she believes the only reason I asked to marry her was to keep my inheritance.”

Now she leaned back and nodded. “Is that not true?”

“You know it is not.” Daniel rested his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands.

“Perhaps you should start there.” She put her hand on his back. “Mary is your equal, your true match. Be brave and tell her how you feel.”

“And Father will alter the will?”

“Doubtful. Or rather, impossible.” She sighed as if she had nothing to do with the decision. “No, the will remains as it is.”

“Forgiveness and sacrifice characterize all my relationships.”

She kissed his cheek. “No, forgiveness and sacrifice describe every good relationship. You are a lovely boy.” She stood. “Now, I would like to continue talking with Mrs. Eliot. I find her most diverting. It speaks to Lady Mary’s good judgement to have such a friend.” His mother skipped out of the room.

What was the balance between forgiveness and protecting himself? He’d pardoned his parents but could not accept or excuse their behavior. Yet he was accepting it, if he conceded to a marriage with Miss Thorpe. There never was a person both as daft and astute as Daniel’s mother, but it was not as simple as she made it sound. Everything he’d done had been aimed at refurbishing Almery. While at the bank, the fantasy of seeing it restored had driven him to work harder rather than spend time on his relationships. Could he exchange Almery for a future with Mary?

He wanted her, burned for her, but she was a new feature in his life, while the castle was like a mountain, something that had always been there and would always be, even as it slowly crumbled to dirt. And could he trust her?

His mother’s assertion that he could lie rankled. He cultivated trustworthiness and dependability like a farmer tended to an orchard. But if he had been honest with Miss Jensen, he would have told her at the beginning of their engagement that he would delay their union for years. Instead, he’d made excuses every few months, pushing back the day until she’d made other plans. The years she waited for him must have been hard for her, taking her from marriageable age and into what some considered spinsterhood. She’d likely become desperate.

His throat seared and his skin itched. His greatest skill was deceiving himself.

Perhaps he should have told Mary about his connection to Louisa. He kept it to himself because he knew that he and Louisa did not suit. He did it because of that long, charming look Mary gifted him when they first met. He did it in hopes that he could have a loving marriage and Almery. It was a guilty omission, but one he could not regret, not when it brought him Mary.

A readiness to forgive tugged at him. The tantalizing desire to surrender his anger offered to loosen the thorny tension that pricked his soul, but he yanked back the hurt, reeled it in, and cradled it. She withheld a major part of her identity from him. Yes, she would be censured for writing a romance, but not by him. He was half infatuated with every woman in that novel, so it was little wonder he loved the author. Her lack of trust in him cut the deepest wound. Wishing to keep that truth from wagging tongues in Bath, he understood, but once they began to confide in each other, the subject came up again. Ah! And he had made assumptions about Mary in that conversation, had said she would never do such a thing. Hardly a sentiment to induce a confidence. Then he blamed Lady Mary for Louisa’s behavior.

His appraisal of the situation wanted clarity. What had he done to warrant her faith? He misled her. His initial interest in marriage to her stemmed from his desire for Almery. He had not examined his motives, and they were not selfless. He must show her his worthiness and earn her trust.

D aniel found Miss Thorpe, a book in hand, staring out the window. His mother and Emma huddled around Mrs. Eliot, who was wide-eyed and gesticulating. Heaven only knew what nonsense she imparted. She was Mary’s friend, but he had yet to comprehend why.

“Miss Thorpe, would you care to walk outside with me?” She was pale and could probably use some air. It occurred to him that she must have gone through a harrowing experience with Mr. Savage. His engagement to her was of no help. In Bath, she’d worn youthful insolence layered over a bright spirit. The liveliness he’d witnessed was gone, exchanged for complete despondency.

She acquiesced gloomily to the walk. They strolled mindlessly through the grounds, talking of nothing in particular, until Daniel looked up and realized they were in the rose garden. A pang of loss shot through him. How he missed Mary.

“Miss Thorpe, may I call you Louisa?”

“We are engaged.”

“Do you want to marry me?”

She hesitated. “It is the right thing to do. The only option after…”

“So, you see this as a punishment?”

“Yes.” She looked up at him, shocked. “I mean, it is a duty I fulfill with happiness.”

“If you could do anything, what would you do?”

She laughed, dry and cynical. “No one has ever asked me that.”

Her plight clarified, and Daniel understood her for the first time. “Your father arranged your marriage without asking your consent. Your aunt took you to Bath when you did not wish to go, and now you are being forced into that arranged marriage with a man you do not like.”

“Oh! I do like you. But not for a husband.”

“What do you want?”

She pinched her lips between her teeth and began unravelling a ribbon sewn to her gown. “I want to go back to Stroud and be a lady’s companion.” She blushed and looked at the ground.

“What would your father think?”

She wilted and pulled harder at the bow. “You see, my wishes are of no consequence.”

“Let’s make them matter.”

She jerked away from him. “Don’t tease me.”

“I would never make light of this, Louisa.”

“What do you propose?”

“I suggest we both get what we want.”

“Impossible.”

“I cannot accept that. Do you know I want to marry your aunt?”

Louisa stepped back, but a tiny smile grew. “You are joking.”

“I love her more than life.” More than this castle. “What can we do?”

They sat on a bench in silence. The sun lit his shoulders with hope.

“There must be a way to convince your father,” he said.

“Well, he is a toadeater. If Lady Halverson approached him, he might accept my employment with her.”

“Of whom do you speak?” Mrs. Eliot appeared before them.

“Oh! I was saying that if Lady Halverson begged my father to allow me to serve as her companion, he might, in his obsequiousness, agree.”

“She would not travel to Cornwall, regardless of how she likes you. But I would be happy to deliver the message to your father.” A flash in Mrs. Eliot’s eye told Daniel the woman before him could hold her own against any stubborn father. “I can bring a letter from her ladyship, with all the superiority of her rank, and convince him that his refusal would be a slight to the peerage.”

Louisa nodded and sprang to her feet. She took Mrs. Eliot by the elbows, bouncing on her toes. “Would you? It would work! I know it would. He would melt before you.” The girl’s enthusiasm bloomed, and her face regained its color.

“Do you trust this plan well enough to end our engagement?” he asked.

“I am willing to risk almost anything,” Louisa said. “Oh, not that you are so unacceptable a companion, but we must consider Aunt Mary.”

Mrs. Eliot sent a sly smile to Daniel. It would work. It must work.

“I will go to Mary, then,” he said. “And I will inform my parents.”

Daniel made his way to the sickroom, where he found his mother reading poetry to his father, reclining on the bed, a mound of cushions behind his back.

“Miss Thorpe and I called off our engagement. You may keep your castle and leave it to Emma. I choose Lady Mary.”