Chapter Nine

"Now, if I tried this here, then… " Edmund stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth as he continued on with his experiment, being careful and cautious as he did so. It was not the most important experiment he had ever done but it was of interest to him and thus, he had thrown himself into it, working even through dinner. Instead of going to sit with his mother and cousin, Edmund had taken a tray in the study where had managed to leave most of it to go cold, such had been the depth of his thoughts. It had also distracted him from all thoughts as regarded Lady Vivianne and her brother, Lord Jedburgh. At the time of the ball, when Lord Jedburgh had stated such bold things in front of Lady Lillian, Edmund had been so stunned, he had not quickly thought of a response. However, once Lady Lillian had taken her leave, Edmund had told Lord Jedburgh in no uncertain terms, that such things were not to be discussed in the middle of the ballroom but that there would be a better situation for that particular conversation. As yet, he had not made any further contact with Lord Jedburgh or his sister and though he knew that the gentleman would be waiting for that, had found himself pulling back from it.

They might be at the soiree this evening and then what shall I do?

"Wrexham?"

Edmund stood up straight, a string in his hand as the door opened and his mother stepped in. She had not waited for him to ask her to enter, had simply walked straight into his study without a second of hesitation – and given the way her eyes swept around the room, Edmund presumed that this was why. Evidently, she had surmised his reason for missing dinner and had come either to see what it was he was doing or to berate him.

From the scowl, Edmund presumed it would be the latter.

"Might I ask what it is that you are doing, Edmund?"

Edmund blinked, a little surprised that his mother had used his Christian name for it was spoken so rarely, it could only mean one thing.

She was greatly displeased with him.

"I am working on something," he said, silently reminding himself that while she was his mother, she did not have any right to tell him what he could or could not do. "Is there something the matter?"

"And what about the soiree this evening?"

Edmund shrugged. "What of it?"

"We are to attend."

He cast her a quick look and then turned back to his machine. "I am well aware of that."

"And you are doing this instead?"

Hearing the note of alarm in his mother's voice, Edmund let out a small sigh and then shook his head. "No, Mother, I am doing an experiment until it comes time for me to prepare to depart. I have every intention of working here until I must change and, thereafter, we will make our way to the soiree."

His mother frowned all the harder though she did not protest, much to Edmund's relief. "You missed dinner with Dinah and myself."

"But that is only one dinner out of many," Edmund reminded her, threading the string back in the way it had come. "I do not think that is such a terrible thing, do you?"

Again, his mother's frown grew deeper but Edmund only smiled at her, waiting for her to say something more… though nothing was really said. Instead, she let out a small sigh, then turned on her heel to walk to the door. "Only do not be tardy for the soiree. It is important to Dinah. Lord Weatherly will be there."

"Lord Weatherly is of importance to Dinah?"

With yet another sigh, his mother turned back to face him, throwing up her hands. "Of course he is! He has been very attentive for some days now and I know that he spoke specifically to her to see if she would be present this evening."

"I see." Edmund considered this for a moment and then shrugged. "If he is in earnest and seeks to court her, then I shall look into his background and the like a little more but for the moment, I find him an agreeable sort." His smile grew. "His sister is also very agreeable, I must say."

At this, his mother's eyebrows lifted but Edmund quickly explained. "I only mean in terms of the fact that it is clearly a well-respected, genteel family."

"Indeed." His mother's gaze sharpened. "Might I ask what it is that you are doing at present with all of… that?" She gestured vaguely to the box on Edmund's table and he turned to look at it before turning his head back to face her.

"Are you interested in my experiments?"

"Interested might not be the right word but I should like to know what it is that takes a hold of your imagination – and your time – with such strength."

"It is an electrifying machine," Edmund replied, his voice rising such was the excitement within him. "I have heard of them before, of course, and have seen them work also but I am now attempting to make the effect a little stronger."

His mother blinked in obvious confusion.

"Have you heard of them before?" Edmund asked, beckoning his mother towards him. "Now, I have only just finished connecting it back together. The first thing I had to do when I purchased it was to take it apart so that I might see how it worked! Now that I have reassembled it, I am trying different things to see what might work… so if you simply hold this string, then I shall show you what will happen."

The Duchess frowned. "I am not sure if – "

"It will not hurt, I promise you," Edmund stated, as his mother picked up the string. "Now, all I need to do is turn this crank here and you will soon feel the reaction."

"Feel?" his mother repeated, only to let out a yelp as Edmund cranked the machine as hard as he could. The string fell from her hands and she stepped back, shaking them as though she had been burned. "I thought that you said it would not hurt!"

"It does not hurt, it is more of a tingle," Edmund said, grinning at her as enthusiasm pushed him to explain. "This is a wonderful machine, for it brings this electricity to us and – "

"I do not want your explanations." His mother waved her hands vaguely, shaking her head. "You may keep this box to yourself and your experiments with it. Good gracious, have you any thought as to what the ton would say if they saw you with such a contraption?"

Edmund lifted his chin, his smile fading as his enthusiasm dissipated. "I do believe that they are slowly becoming popular," he stated, as his mother turned towards the door again. "You might even see one at the soiree this evening!"

"I highly doubt that," his mother sniffed, opening the door and making to step out. "Please do not be tardy, Wrexham. And do not mention this box to anyone at the soiree, I beg you! The last thing I desire is for my son to be made a mockery!"

Edmund opened his mouth to say that he did not care what the ton thought, only to close it again as he watched the door close behind his mother. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and scowled. She did not understand his enthusiasm, did not really have any words of encouragement to offer him and instead, wished that he would hide such things away from others. Edmund could understand why she might wish for such a thing but all the same, he found himself rebelling against that idea. He did not want to hide the truth from others about who he was and what he enjoyed and yet there was the understanding that he had no other choice but to do so, if he wanted society's approval. With a start, he recalled how, even as a young man, his father had shown the same unwillingness to even consider what Edmund was involved in, how – with anger – he had directed Edmund to forget such pursuits. There had been anger too from Lord Fullerton himself, his very own cousin, simply because Edmund had been spending time with his father so that they might invent together. Edmund rubbed at the space between his forehead. He had garnered a good deal of anger and upset from a good many people simply because of his love of natural philosophy and now, it seemed, he was going to have to push it away from himself again, even if it was only for a time. If he wanted to find a bride, then he might well have to set that whole notion aside, no matter what it cost him.

With another sigh, Edmund passed one hand over his eyes and then made his way to the door, following after his mother. There was no use in continuing on with his experiment now. The conversation with his mother had pulled the joy from it and now there was nothing else for him to do but prepare for the soiree.

***

"Your Grace?"

Edmund turned to his left, only for his face to break into a broad smile, his arms thrown wide for a moment as he embraced his friend. "Huxley! I did not think that you would be in London this Season!"

"And yet, here I am." Nicholas, the Marquess of Huxley, grinned broadly as he stepped back. "I did not expect to be in London either, I confess it, but my plans to sail to my holdings on the continent has been delayed."

"Oh?"

Lord Huxley grinned. "I have decided that my journey to the continent can be delayed. I might, instead, turn my attention to other responsibilities."

Edmund's eyebrows lifted as his friend's gaze roved around the room. "You think of matrimony?"

"I do," Lord Huxley replied, with that same refreshing honesty that Edmund had always known from him. "I think it important that a gentleman do as he must and produce the heir. And I have not done that as yet."

"Nor have I," Edmund answered, a little ruefully, "though I can see that it is an important responsibility."

"And have you any candidates in mind?"

Edmund laughed at this, shaking his head at his friend. "My dear Huxley, it is not as though I must find them all qualified in this or in that in order to consider a young lady suitable. My main concern for this Season is Dinah – my cousin, you recall – and her come out, though she has already secured herself some interest already, so it may not be long that I have that responsibility."

Lord Huxley's eyebrows lifted. "That is excellent."

"Indeed."

"It does mean that you have now the time, at least, to consider the young ladies of London and whether or not they are suitable for you." His friend grinned as Edmund rolled his eyes. "That is what I intend to do this Season, at least."

It was on the tip of Edmund's tongue to tell his friend about Lady Lillian, only for someone behind him to clear his throat. A little frustrated at being so interrupted, Edmund turned sharply, only for Lord Jedburgh's eyes to narrow slightly.

"Your Grace. It has been some day since our first conversation and we have not, as yet, had any correspondence from you."

Edmund frowned, a little perturbed by Lord Jedburgh's bold and rather rude statement. "Good evening, Lord Jedburgh," he said, as firmly as he could so as to show the gentleman just how impolite he was being. "I wonder if you are acquainted with my friend, here? If you are not, I should be happy to introduce you."

Lord Jedburgh sniffed. "I do not think that there is any need. This conversation does not involve anyone except you or I."

Edmund folded his arms over his chest, all the more irritated. "Might I remind you that I informed you, Lord Jedburgh, that I would speak to you about this matter privately? This is not exactly private, is it?"

"I am afraid that I must insist upon it, given that you have not yet called nor even written to us!"

"Perhaps it is because I have been very busy indeed and have not yet had time to think on all that has been put to me by both yourself and your sister," Edmund hissed, taking a step closer to Lord Jedburgh but lowering his voice at the same time. "Have you not realised how heavy a burden this could be for me? I had no knowledge that your sister expected engagement from me, Lord Jedburgh and yet, despite that, you decided to throw that at me during our first meeting without so much as asking after my health or any such thing!"

Lord Jedburgh's chin jutted forward. "Again, those questions bring no bearing to the situation. If they had purpose, then I might be willing to ask them but given that they do not, I see no reason in speaking them. Therefore, I must ask you again, Your Grace, whether or not you intend to engage yourself to my sister."

"I do not."

The words ricocheted from his mouth before he could prevent himself and Lord Jedburgh instantly recoiled, his eyes wide with evident shock.

"I do not think that there is a requirement for me to do so," Edmund said, hoping that Lord Jedburgh was not about to explode with anger in front of the other guests. "I understand that my father hoped for such a match but I do not find myself willing to do so."

"But… but you must!" Lord Jedburgh exclaimed, his voice a little louder than Edmund had anticipated. "It is your duty!"

"It is not." Edmund glanced around, a little embarrassed to see that the other guests were now looking towards them and that their conversation was now becoming of interest to listening ears. "It was suggested and yes, I will admit that my father hoped that – "

"My sister has been waiting for you to acknowledge this!" Lord Jedburgh cried, interrupting Edmund furiously. "Do you not understand? She has been waiting , refusing all other offers and even the attentions from other gentlemen and now you are standing here, telling me that you will not do as has been demanded of you?"

Growing all the more frustrated, Edmund threw out both hands, slicing through the air with them. "There are no demands, Lord Jedburgh! No demands whatsoever. My father wrote that he hoped it would be so, I can see that your sister and that you also prayed that it might be so but that does not mean that I must agree to it." He lowered his voice. "I do not think it wise for me to engage myself to a lady that I do not know."

Lord Jedburgh blinked frantically. "Then – then you must know her better!" he exclaimed, nodding his head as though he were a jack-in-the-box who had only just escaped from the confines of its small wooden box. "That is what must be done. You shall declare that you are courting her, Your Grace, with the expectation that should the courtship go well, engagement will move forward."

"Who is courting?"

Edmund opened his mouth to state that he was not courting anyone, only to catch a glint flash in Lord Jedburgh's eyes. His mouth went dry as Lord Jedburgh turned to face the slightly older lady who Edmund recognized to be one of the most prolific gossips in all of London.

"The Duke has just asked my permission to court my sister, Lady Vivianne," he heard Lord Jedburgh say, his voice very loud indeed as though he wanted everyone in the ton to hear it. "Of course, I was glad to give my permission."

"Lord Jedburgh, for shame!"

Without warning, Lord Huxley stepped closer, his own voice seeming to echo around the room. "You ought not to be saying such things, given that I have been standing here and have not heard the Duke of Wrexham ask you such a thing!"

The lady – Lady Morpeth – looked from Edmund to Lord Jedburgh and then back again, her eyes rounding in either surprise or delight at being a part of this conversation. Inwardly, Edmund boiled with anger, furious that Lord Jedburgh had thought to do such a thing, had thought to force Edmund's hand by speaking as he had done. Catching a glance from Lord Huxley – one that told him to be as calm as he could be – Edmund took a step closer and lifted his chin.

"I am afraid that you have misunderstood, Lord Jedburgh."

"No indeed, I have not," the gentleman declared, clearly unwilling to back down from what he was attempting to do. "I understand very clearly indeed. I do not know why your friend is insisting that you did not ask me about my sister. Mayhap it is that he is a little jealous and wishes to marry before you?"

"Marry?" Lady Morpeth gasped, though Edmund quickly shook his head, reaching out one hand to her.

"I can assure you, my thoughts are not on such things."

"Yes, they are, if you are courting my sister," Lord Jedburgh stated, making Edmund's hands curl into tight fists such was his anger. "You cannot expect me to grant permission to you if you are not considering things seriously!"

Catching a hold of that, Edmund hid his smile, triumph filling him. "Alas, then, I cannot pursue her. I am afraid that my thoughts are not yet turned to matrimony."

Lord Jedburgh's jaw jutted forward, his eyes narrowing. "You are something of a rogue, then? That is a great pity, Your Grace. I must say, especially since your reputation is so high amongst society."

Edmund wanted to shout aloud that Lord Jedburgh was doing and saying such things for his own purposes, that none of this was true and yet, he could not. Lady Morpeth was still listening intently, her eyes searching his face as he kept his gaze away from her for fear that she would see his anger.

"I am no rogue," Edmund stated, firmly. "It is only to say that, as yet, my thoughts do not turn to matrimony. It is something that I must consider in great depth for who can say what sort of bride a Duke requires? I do not know if any young lady of my acquaintance will fulfill such a requirement."

A tight smile flashed across Lord Jedburgh's face. "That is why you consider courtship, then? Because that is how you will get to know my sister a good deal better and, as I am sure you will discover, she will be more than satisfactory in every way that you require."

Edmund swallowed hard, his anger so great, he could not bring himself to speak for fear of what would come out of his mouth. He was going from hot to cold and then back again, his fury mounting with every second that passed, with every smirk that flicked across Lord Jedburgh's lips. He had no understanding as to why this gentleman was so determined to have him court his sister, no knowledge as to what it was that drove Lord Jedburgh to such a thing and yet, for whatever reason, this gentleman was being forceful enough as to push it into Edmund's hands without him desiring it.

"I would be very careful indeed about what you say, Lord Jedburgh." Lord Huxley lifted his chin. "You speak to a Duke and to a Marquess, both of whom have very high standing in society. To have your own reputation smeared would be rather difficult indeed, would it not? You would not want that."

Lord Jedburgh's eyes flashed. "I want what is best for my sister," he stated, unequivocally as Lady Morpeth began to back away, her hand at her mouth as if she wanted to keep back all that she might say until she found someone to listen. "You will court her, Your Grace, at the very least."

Edmund shook his head. "You have no right to demand such things of me."

"Yes, I do. My father and yours were great friends. There has always been the expectation, the hope that you will marry Vivianne."

"But that does not mean that I must agree," Edmund answered, angrily, catching the way that Lady Morpeth was now standing in a small group of ladies, whispering furiously.

"Though," his friend murmured, quietly, "it appears now that you may have to court the lady, whether you wish it or not."

Edmund let his gaze rove around the room and felt his spirits sink. It was not for his sake that he was going to have to do so more than it was for the lady's sake. Lady Vivianne would have the ton speaking of her, wondering why Edmund had first of all, asked to court her, only to step back and refuse, thanks to the story both Lord Jedburgh and Lady Morpeth had brought together. Passing one hand over his eyes, his shoulders dropped and he groaned aloud, his anger turning to despair.

"I will not engage myself to her," he breathed, dropping his hand and looking straight ahead into Lord Jedburgh's face. "Do you understand me? I will court her but only because of what will happen to her reputation if I do not."

Lord Jedburgh's smile was an ugly one. "We shall see what happens," he said, triumph burning through every word which made Edmund's anger fire back up all over again. "Mayhap you shall find yourself quite drawn to her and all will be well."

In an instant, Lady Lillian came rushing into Edmund's mind and he shook his head furiously, angry now that the lady he had begun to care for would now find herself pushed back from his company, thinking that he was now courting another. "I can promise you, that shall never happen," he grated, as Lord Jedburgh turned on his heel, his head held high. "I shall never marry Lady Vivianne, no matter what happens."