Chapter Eighteen

B yron allowed Keller to dress him for this afternoon’s garden party. He was already tired of the social swirl of the Season. In the past two weeks, he had attended seven balls, two routs, and a musicale. One evening had been devoted to the theatre. Another, the opera. Last night, he had gone to a card party, hoping the much smaller affair would bring him some relief. Instead, he had not been able to concentrate on the cards in his hand, which angered Jacinda. She had been his partner for the evening, thanks to Byron speaking privately with the hostess before gameplay began. His betrothed-in-the-making had pouted. Then sulked. Then demanded that she be paired with a new partner. The fuss thoroughly embarrassed him.

It seemed his intended bride had the maturity of a five-year-old, something which grated on his nerves. She also was incredibly judgmental, making fun of others’ looks or their ensembles. He had danced with her at each ball, four of those times claiming the supper dance, and she had bored him beyond measure.

He had invited Jacinda and Lord Hampton to attend the opera, taking along Mama, Aunt Flora, and Uncle Hugh. He thought it might be a good way to have her interact with his family. Jacinda had been short with his aunt and uncle, and she had offended his mother. What had been said, he couldn’t say, only that Mama had acted indifferently to Jacinda the entire evening.

In the carriage on the way home, Mama had pleaded with him to reconsider marriage to Jacinda, but he said the marriage settlements were already being written. Upset after a week of not hearing from Pilsbury, Byron had gone directly to the solicitor’s office, only to learn that Lord Hampton’s solicitor had left town to bury his father. Pilsbury assured Byron that he had completed all the necessary documents on his part, and he would see that the other solicitor did the same upon his return from York.

In the meantime, Byron tried to woo Jacinda, both at the events and when visiting her on a daily basis. She blew hot and cold, sometimes flirting outrageously with him, and other times ignoring him altogether. It gave him insight into what their future together would be like. He had yet to find a sympathetic bone in her body and wondered if she would be willing to turn all care of their children over to him. Somehow, he could not picture her being maternal. He certainly did not want their children to have her disposition, must less be influenced by her in any manner, as she had by her own mother.

Slowly, her suitors had begun fading away. She still had plenty, but he believed as those gentlemen spent more time in Jacinda’s company, even her attractiveness faded when coupled with her disposition. It didn’t matter. He had made the arrangements with her brother. As soon as Pilsbury had things drawn up and Byron had looked over the details, he would inform Jacinda of their upcoming nuptials. He was more than willing to allow her to enjoy the rest of the Season before they wed, but he had decided to rein her in a bit by letting her know of the betrothal once all parties had signed.

Once the Season ended, he would insist upon their marriage taking place immediately. Instead of waiting for the three weeks for the banns to be read in Bridgehampton, at the church their families both attended, he thought it might be wiser to purchase a special license after the ink had dried on the marriage contracts. That way, no waiting period would be necessary. He hoped she would be increasing by year’s end and give birth to their first child by this time next year.

The worst part of the past fortnight had been whenever he spied Lady Mirella at an event. As promised, he had avoided her as much as possible, going nowhere near her when gentlemen were signing her programme. She continued to be quite popular with the eligible bachelors of the ton , and Byron couldn’t help but watch her as she danced with them.

They had spoken twice when their paths crossed, once at the musicale and a second time in the foyer of the theatre. She had been with her brother and sister-in-law and an earl who Byron had attended university with. They had not been friends and only recognized one another in passing. He wished he knew more about the earl and whether he was suitable or not for Lady Mirella. It only showed how foolish he was, thinking he might hold sway over her if he discovered something about the man and tried to get her to stop seeing him.

For the hundredth time, Byron told himself that Lady Mirella Strong was not his concern. After this Season, he need never see her again. He would allow Jacinda to come to town for each new Season, but he and their children would be perfectly happy remaining at Bridgefield. When those children grew older, perhaps he would take them for a month or two up to the Lake District. Grasmere was always lovely in the summer, and Aunt Flora and Uncle Hugh would be delighted to host them.

Especially if his marchioness remained in town.

Keller finished tying Byron’s cravat and then helped him slip into his coat.

“Thank you,” he said dismissively, and the valet was smart enough to leave the room quickly, having become attuned to his employer’s mercurial moods.

Since he still had half an hour before they were scheduled to leave for this afternoon’s garden party, he decided to go to his study. On his way to it, he came across Paulson.

“My lord, you just received a package from Mr. Pilsbury. I placed it on the desk in your study.”

“Finally,” he said, thanking the butler and heading to see if it might be the documents he had anticipated.

Closing the door, he found the package, wrapped in brown paper and secured with twine. He cut through the twine and unwrapped it, finding a letter atop a sheaf of papers.

Lord Bridgefield –

Enclosed you will find a set of the marriage contracts between you and Miss Jacinda Bowles. Lord Hampton’s solicitor returned from York yesterday, and we have agreed to everything in principle within these documents.

As requested, I am sending you these settlements since you wished to read through them before Lord Hampton received his own copy. Please feel free to make any notes you choose to on what I have sent. My clerk will prepare fresh copies for both you and Lord Hampton to sign.

If you have any questions or further need of me, please let me know.

Your humble servant,

P. Pilsbury

Byron set aside Pilsbury’s note and began reading. Everything was very straightforward. Hampton would provide Jacinda’s dowry. In return, Byron would provide dowries for any female issue from the marriage. A monthly amount of pin money had been established, as well as provisions for his marchioness if he passed before she did. That included her taking up residence in the dower house upon her widowhood. He had not suggested that his own mother do the same although he had learned that had been in the agreements signed when his parents wed. Byron felt Bridgefield was large enough and saw no need for Mama to leave the main house. She might choose to do so on her own, though, when Jacinda became his wife.

He saw nothing to change in the documents and withdrew fresh paper to dash off a quick note to Pilsbury, instructing him to move forward in the process. The sooner he and Hampton had signed the marriage settlements, the better. He would request that Hampton and his solicitor meet them in Pilsbury’s office the day after tomorrow to complete the process and sign the settlements.

A knock sounded on his door, and Paulson appeared. “Your carriage is waiting, Lord Bridgewater, as are your mother and the Bentons.”

While he would prefer writing the note and sending it on to Pilsbury, his mother was a stickler when it came to being on time to events. He supposed he could write the solicitor once they returned from the garden party and have it delivered first thing tomorrow morning.

“Very well,” he said, rising from behind his desk and heading to the foyer.

“There you are, Bridgewater,” Mama said. “What kept you?”

He did not want to suffer in disapproving silence in the carriage on the way to the garden party by mentioning the marriage contracts, so he merely said, “Just a bit of business, Mama. Are we ready to go?”

They went the few blocks to where the event was being held. Byron thought it ridiculous to have the carriage readied when they traveled such a short distance, but he dare not approach Mama and tell her that they should walk to an event.

The coachman dropped them off, promising to return in two hours’ time. As they moved along the pavement, they caught up with Lord Hampton and Jacinda.

“Miss Bowles,” he said. “I am delighted to see you. Don’t you look lovely this afternoon?”

“I always look lovely, my lord,” she said pertly.

“She should. I paid enough for her wardrobe for the Season,” Hampton grumbled, falling into step beside Byron as Jacinda hurried her pace and moved away from them. “She’ll be all yours soon, including the cost of her wardrobe.”

“You will find a bride of your own and still be paying those costs in the future,” he reminded the viscount. “As for my betrothal to your sister, I just received a copy of the marriage settlements before we left the house. I read through them and found no fault. They are practically identical to the previous ones written up, simply substituting my name for Lord Linden’s, my brother’s title at the time of their creation.”

“Then I have no need to read them myself,” Hampton said, causing Byron to stifle a laugh since he never believed the viscount would have done so in the first place.

“I will send them back to Mr. Pilsbury then, telling him to have copies drawn up for the both of us and Miss Bowles, as well. Hopefully, that might be accomplished tomorrow. We can then meet the following day and place our signatures on them.”

“Just let me know,” Hampton said, appearing bored by their conversation.

They were admitted into the house and led by a footman to the gardens. Byron caught sight of Jacinda passing through the French doors onto the terrace. By the time he reached them, however, she was nowhere in sight. The terrace was crowded, as was the area on the other side of it. The gardens lay beyond that.

Since he had lost his chance to speak with his intended for now, Byron asked his mother and aunt if they would like some punch. Both wished for some, so he and Uncle Hugh located the punch bowl and requested two cups be poured. As they turned, he spied a man he did not know but had instantly loathed when he learned his identity, that of Verity’s father.

Lord Hall.

The only bright light in Byron’s life in recent weeks had been his visits to Verity and Amity. The little girl was bright and personable and had quite stolen his heart. Verity was quiet and unassuming, and they had grown closer during his visits. He found her to be a decent person and a good mother. It was a shame her father had disowned her over a tragic error in judgment. Even at that, Byron could not view Amity as a mistake.

He did not know when or how—but he planned to confront Lord Hall before Season’s end.

“Something wrong, Bridgewater?” Uncle Hugh asked.

“No. I just saw someone I do not like in the least. It is nothing, Uncle.”

They returned to his mother and aunt. By now, Lady Mathilda had joined the pair.

“Good afternoon, my lady,” he said, not wishing to address her familiarly as Aunt Matty, something he easily could have done so had he married her niece.

Passing the cup of punch to Mama, he said, “I am off to make the rounds.”

“Bridgewater has no love of small talk,” Byron heard Mama say as he left them.

Moving through the large group, he decided to go through the gardens so he wouldn’t have to make that small talk his mother had mentioned.

Unfortunately, the gardens were populated with strolling couples, arm-in-arm. He recalled his own walk that day through the Benbrook gardens with Lady Mirella.

Would everything he saw and did for the rest of his life remind him of her?

Byron truly wanted the best for her. How could he not, when he still loved her? He only hoped that she would find a man worthy of her, one who would love and cherish her all his days. He had seen her dancing with everyone from the shyest of men to known rogues—and everyone in-between. At least she was giving a good number of bachelors a chance of capturing her heart.

He began moving briskly through the gardens, past couples sitting on benches and those stopping to look at certain blooms. When he reached the end of the path and saw a large gazebo there, he started to return the way he came—because he saw a couple kissing and wished to give them some privacy.

But he hesitated a moment, studying the pair. The gentlemen had his back to Byron and was tall and broad enough that he blocked most of the women he kissed so enthusiastically. Only her gloved hands were visible, wrapped around his neck, along with a bit of the hem of her gown showing, a pale yellow in color.

The same shade Jacinda was wearing.

Byron strode toward the pair, yanking them apart. He recognized Viscount Percival, whom he had seen dancing with Jacinda and Mirella both.

“What are you doing, Bridgewater?” demanded Jacinda.

Lord Percival merely flushed a bright red and said, “We have been caught, Miss Bowles. I will not see you ruined. I will wed you at once.”

“You will not,” Byron spat out. “Miss Bowles is my intended.”

“What?” the couple both cried in unison.

“Leave. Now,” he commanded, scowling at the viscount.

Much to his surprise, Jacinda went and slipped her arm through Percival’s arm. “You cannot tell me what to do, my lord. And you are certainly not my betrothed.”

“Not yet,” he told her. “But your brother has already agreed to the match. In fact, I received the marriage contracts today from my solicitor. Copies will be made tomorrow, and then Lord Hampton and I will sign them the following day.”

Her jaw fell open.

“Did you know about this?” Lord Percival demanded.

“No! Not a thing, my lord. This is the first I am learning of it.”

“Miss Bowles was betrothed before,” Byron said. “To my brother.”

“What?” Jacinda exclaimed, stepping away from the viscount. “I have no idea what you are babbling about, Lord Bridgewater. Perhaps the sun is too hot today, and it has affected your speech.”

“You know our fathers were the closest of friends,” he began, and she nodded.

“What of it?”

“Their dream was to see our two families united through marriage,” he explained. “When you were only ten years of age, your father and mine had marriage settlements drawn up. My brother was to wed you when you came of age at the end of this Season.”

Fury filled her eyes. “I was never told such a thing!” she said, her face turning bright red. “You are lying. Father would have told me of such a plan.”

“You were ten, Miss Bowles,” Byron said flatly. “A mere child. I was with my brother when our father told him the news. Linden was given no choice in the matter. He grudgingly agreed to the marriage simply because the marriage contracts had already been written and signed by the two men. A betrothal contract is almost as good as actually being wed is what I understand.”

Jacinda frowned, shaking her head. “But your brother is dead. Surely, that means the contract means nothing now, wouldn’t it?” she asked Lord Percival.

“I would think so, my lady.”

“Yes, they did become null and void—until I offered for you in my brother’s place.”

He watched them both wince.

And realized they were in love.

His thoughts swirled madly, and he took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself and focus.

“Of course, even though Hampton and I agreed to them, they have yet to be signed,” he stated, wanting to gauge their reaction. “So, no betrothal exists at this point. Nothing is official until your brother and I sign the documents.”

Lord Percival pleaded with him. “Do not do so, Bridgewater. I beg you. I wish to wed Miss Bowles.” He glanced at Jacinda. “And she wishes to be my viscountess.”

Byron had two choices.

He could demand that she honor the agreement he and Lord Hampton had previously come to.

Or he could gift her with her freedom—and receive his own in return.

In the end, he decided there was no choice at all.

“I will destroy the contracts,” he said quietly. “But you will have to be the one to speak to your brother, Miss Bowles.”

The viscount spoke up. “She will not have to do so alone, Bridgewater. I will be with her. I will offer for her.”

“I am certain Hampton will agree to put aside your previous agreement, my lord, if you ask him to do so,” Jacinda said, her voice shaking.

“Very well,” Byron agreed. “When shall the three of us speak with him? I believe we should all be present.”

The couple glanced at one another, and Jacinda said, “Tomorrow at noon. I will skip tonight’s ball. Tell Hampton that I have a headache. It will give me time to prepare what to say to him.”

“Very well. I will arrive at noon tomorrow, along with Lord Percival. We will sit and have a civil discussion.” He paused, smiling at her, relief filling him. “Your brother wants what is best for you. If you have found happiness with Lord Percival, I cannot see how he would object to it.”

“You do not mind?” she asked worriedly.

“I was merely trying to do what my father—and yours—had wanted done, my lady. I believed my duty was to my family, but I will not stand in your way to finding happiness.”

Not when it meant that he had a chance to be with Mirella.

“I will leave you so that have some privacy. However, I suggest you forgo any more kissing for the moment. It would not be wise to be caught doing so by someone else.”

“Thank you, my lord,” the viscount said fervently. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

“And mine,” Jacinda echoed.

Byron returned to the garden party, his heart light. He was now free to pursue the woman he loved.

He only hoped that she was willing to give him another chance.