Chapter 14

Fourteen

W hat is the invitation for?" asked Alex from where she sat propped up on the settee in the corner of the sitting room.

"A soiree Wednesday night. Do you think you can come?" Phil handed the cream paper to her sister.

"Is our aunt familiar with the house?"

"I didn't ask."

"If there are not too many stairs. I can manage with my cane and a firm arm to hold."

Phil found their aunt in her private parlor, writing at her desk.

"Are you familiar with Lady Milburn's house?"

Lady Healand tapped her jaw. "I haven't been there for two or three years. Other than a vibrant red walled room, I don't remember much. Why?"

"Alex thought she could attend a soiree, if there were not too many stairs."

Her aunt held out her hand for the card. "Ah, she resides in Grosvenor Square. So no more than a few stairs into the house."

Grosvenor Square? Lord Endelton lived there. Phil wondered if he might be behind the invitation. "I'll let Alex know. I think we can safely accept."

"I'll write to her now. There is also a ball on Saturday. I know Alex cannot attend, but you should go. And the Godderidges have invited us to another card evening. Will the stairs be an issue there?"

Although the card room was on an upper floor, the stairs were wide and there should be someone to help Alex. "I believe we can attend."

"There are two more letters for you. They were included inside of mine." Aunt Healand handed Phil the still-sealed missives. The one from grandfather was addressed to Alexandra, while the one from father was for her.

Phil considered tossing father's in the fire unopened. It could not contain any encouraging news. "Thank you. Is there anything else?"

"Yes, we will make calls today. I cannot have you hiding away simply because your sister is unable to accompany us as yet. Wear your green dress, please."

"Yes, Aunt." Phil tried to hide her reactions. Making calls was akin to being on the baker's shelf for everyone to scrutinize. Were you too thin or too brown? And the green dress scratched at the back of her neck every time she moved. Which was probably why Aunt chose it. Phil's posture in the dress was necessarily impeccable. It was the only way to avoid the scratchy spot.

Phil returned to the parlor where she'd left Alex. "We have letters. Should we read them or guess what is in them?"

Alex took the letters and tapped one against her head. "And the great Alexandra will now divine the contents of the letters. Father's requires no imagination at all. He wants to know if you have secured a titled gentleman of no less than ten thousand a year. He will berate me for stalling your progress, likely hinting at calling me home, as Rose is giving Jane fits in the classroom and George is squandering the household budget because they had both chicken and beef last week."

Phil took the letter back and broke the seal. "Not bad. Only father is hoping for at least twelve a year. He wonders why I didn't secure Lord Endelton while we were at his residence. And they had fish three times last week, hence, George is still in trouble." Phil paused. "And worse, Father's friend is seeking a wife. He has offered to Father for me. As he needs someone quote, ‘who can keep up with his five motherless children and continue to provide for the expansion of the future of the family,' unquote."

"I can't imagine any friend of Father's being a good husband." Alex was right. Father's friends likely gambled in excess, and an instant family of five children made Phil shudder.

Phil read the rest of the letter. "The friend only has five thousand a year. As such, Father has not yet given him an answer."

"Does Father name his friend?"

"No, but it shouldn't be hard to discover who he might be. There cannot be many widowers with five thousand a year and five children."

"How old are the children?" asked Alex.

"Another detail Father didn't see fit to share." The oldest could easily be ten or older, more than half Phil's age.

"Do you think it is an actual threat? Father could try to scare you into making a hasty match."

"I have had no opportunity to make a match, although our aunt is determined to correct that. I am going to go calling with her this afternoon. She has accepted an invitation to a ball and another evening at Lord and Lady Godderidge's, which, of course, includes you."

"And the soiree?"

"It is at Grosvenor Square, so, only a few steps into the house."

"Have you heard from Moriah about the date for our theater outing?"

In the ten days since quitting the Endelton's home, she had no word from any of the family other than Deborah who had visited with Lady Godderidge. Obviously, she would have to find her own prospects. As for her side of the bargain, she had yet to meet most of the women on his suitable list. "No. My hope that the duke refused the use of his box may have come to fruition. He must have succeeded in warning Lord Endelton off since neither of us are a suitable match in the Duke's estimation. Although I do pity poor Moriah."

Alex cocked her head. "You know, whenever you mention Lord Endelton's name, your voice changes? Are you sure you are unaffected by him?"

"I don't see how it signifies. Lord Endelton was kind to you, and I will always think of him fondly. But I will not pursue him to please Father, especially when the viscount has expressed I would be an unsuitable match for him."

Alex frowned and tapped their grandfather's missive against her head. "The great Alexandra is having difficulty with this one. It contains a bank note or a mention of funds given to our aunt."

"That is not mystical. Grandfather always sends you some little thing."

Alex opened the letter and pulled out a banknote. "See, I was correct." Phil laughed.

"Hush or I shan't tell you a word." Alex read silently. "I would have never guessed this—Grandfather is interested in hiring Lord Endelton's valet. And he is insisting his gardener name a rose Hannah for mother."

"I doubt Lord Endelton will want to give up his valet. Does he mention the color of the rose?"

"No."

"I hope it is yellow. What of the rest?"

Alex read silently for a moment, then gasped. "Grandfather has finally received a letter back from his cousin in America. The cousin is the one who relinquished the title, and he recently celebrated his ninety-fourth birthday. However, it is unlikely the cousin will return to England, the rigors of the journey being too great." Alex set the letter in her lap. "I wish I could see the original letter from my cousin. I believe there would be much more to the story. Can you imagine a country where one's ancestry doesn't determine one's future?"

"It wouldn't change much for us. We'd still be dependent on our husbands for our livelihood."

"But wouldn't we have more choices?"

"I doubt a wealthy merchant wants his daughter running off with the baker's son any more than Father would want us marrying the farmer's son."

Alex pursed her lips. "In my case, it wouldn't make a difference at all. Regardless of class, I am not marriageable. I am completely unsuited to any type of work other than perhaps being a seamstress. I have only the slightest chance among the wealthy and who among the lower classes would think a one-legged wife would be of any use."

"Don't talk like that. Someone could very well fall in love with you."

"Phil, love has very little to do with it. A man marries because he believes his wife can produce an heir and help improve his station. Not one where father can damage his reputation. Although Father wants a titled son-in-law, you'd be far better off with a merchant or landowner with no title. Even if they had political aspirations, Father's reputation would have little effect on them."

"You have been putting more thought into this, I see."

"At the Duke of Aylton's ball, before my mishap, I was counting the people in the room. Even excluding the women who looked to be over twenty-five, women far outnumbered the men. Among the debutantes, there were few who were not in one way or another considered pretty. And the ones that were not, wore the finest silks and the most expensive jewelry. Some of the men seemed to be less careful in their appearance, which as the minority, they can be. It is much like when we go to market, and everyone has an abundance of carrots and is trying to convince everyone their carrots are the best."

"So now we are no more than carrots?"

"Sadly, yes." Alex set the letter in her lap. "And there are far too many of them for sale."

"That must be the least romantic marriage analogy ever made."

"Probably. However, it proves my point. You can do very little to choose your husband, but anything will be better than whom Father chooses."

Weariness consumed Phil. She was tired of every conversation coming back to marriage. "Did Grandfather say anything else?"

"He is coming to town. Apparently, there is some issue before the House of Lords he wants to weigh in on. He has instructed Aunt he wants her to hold a dinner with an evening of music in three weeks. He wants us to play."

Phil buried her head in her hands. "Doesn't he know I've hardly practiced in months? At least you'll be shown off to an advantage."

The rooms at White's were unusually full. Michael inquired if his cousin might be found and was directed to a small sitting area far from the windows.

"This is where you've taken to hiding out?"

Richard grunted.

Michael didn't wait for an invitation before sitting. His move elicited another grunt from his cousin. "Tell me, what has you in such a good mood on this rainy day?"

"Against my wishes, the duchess is planning a house party, immediately after the Season is over at Redbridge House." The name belied the size of the duke's country estate.

"And can you not prevent it?"

"It is not easy. She knows the only thing I require of her is to produce an heir. After the house party is over, she claims she will stay in the same house with me for six months."

Michael wasn't sure what to say. His cousin had slipped into delicate matters, which he had no experience with. "Will a house party be terrible?"

"It was at a house party where I was ensnared into marriage. I fear other men may meet the same fate. The duchess' younger sister is not experiencing a successful Season. It is her third." Richard drank a sip of the amber liquid from the glass he held. If Michael was to guess, his cousin's drink contained more water than alcohol. Richard never drank above a few sips a day and often held the same glass for an entire evening without drinking at all. "I have, however, had you stricken from the guest list. If she invites you, refuse any way you can."

"Easy enough. I have promised Mother and Moriah I would take them to Terrace Hall as soon as the session ends. It seems none of us prefer city life."

"I thought Moriah was rather anxious to at least see some of the sites. Or is that not why you asked if you could use my box?"

"My purpose in seeking you out is the loan of the box. You have yet to answer, if I may."

"Will a week from tomorrow suit?"

"I believe so. Moriah has invited the Lightwood sisters, and I will also need to check with their schedules."

"I thought you had finished with Sir Lightwood's daughters."

"I cannot entirely avoid the connection. Edward Godderidge's mother is quite fond of the girls. There are events Deborah simply insists I attend when they're in attendance."

Richard called over a staff member and exchanged his glass for a cup of tea. "There are some days it is more difficult to keep my vow to never drink in excess again."

Michael also ordered a cup of tea to support his cousin. "Is there no way out of the theater invitation to the Lightwoods?"

"Moriah has her heart set on it." And Michael was rather eager to speak with Miss Philippa again. She was the most diverting woman he'd ever met. He hadn't had a chance to converse with her since they left his home last week. Only intelligence came through Deborah, who'd called upon Lady Healand the day before last and found the sisters both quite delighted in receiving callers.

"And who else have you invited?"

"Deborah and Edward, of course. Oh, and Mother."

"Then there is still room in the box. Perhaps I shall bring my mother and the duchess along."

"Will your wife come with you?" As soon as he said the words, he knew he had misspoken.

"Perhaps not. But I should endeavor to make a gesture all the same. She frequents the box often enough on her own."

Moriah had pointed out more than once the duke's box was the place to be seen at the theater, although Richard rarely attended. Having the Lightwood sisters welcome in the duke's box might help them overcome any stigma from their father's name. It would do well in keeping his deal with Miss Philippa to have her there. He wondered if she had yet found any information about who would make him a suitable wife. "Do you know what is playing?"

"I have no idea. But does it matter? Most do not go to the theater for the production." Richard finished his tea. "I need to speak to a few men about my stand on the upcoming vote. Would you like to come along?"

"In one minute. I need to make a note to tell Moriah the date of our adventure to the theater and to make sure an invitation is sent to the Misses Lightwood." Michael scribbled on his ever-present paper. Some people remembered their obligations. Michael found it better to write them down, so they didn't wake him in the middle of the night with a persistent nagging.

Before he could leave, Mr. Newcomb entered the room and took Richard's vacated seat. "Endelton, good to see you. I see you are out of mourning. Hunting for a wife, too?"

Something about Newcomb's voice caused Michael to want to move away. It had always been thus. When did Newcomb become a member? Apparently, the money his father made opened doors in every quarter. "I am hoping to find one."

"Endelton, you are too droll. Of course it is a competition. Despite the number of potential mates this Season, there are so few women who possess the proper qualities for a wife. Too many have gotten it into their heads they can lead their husband around like a prize bull, bending them to their will."

At Terrace Hall, there was a fair amount of cattle. It was no easy job leading around a bull. Not wanting to prolong the conversation, Michael didn't comment.

"Some don't act like they have husbands at all. I just saw the Duke of Aylton pass by. Now take his wife. If she was mine, I'd lock her up and never let her leave the house, at least not until she produced the heir and the spare. But then men like him get the wives they deserve."

Michael wasn't prone to fighting, but he wanted to defend Richard. "What do you mean?"

"Everyone knows he tried to bed her before he wed her. Who knows how many others he ruined for their husbands?"

Leaping to his feet with hands fisted, Michael tried to form the words to tell the man his information was wrong. Deep down, he knew Richard wouldn't want anything said. He forced his hands to relax and left without saying a word.

Behind him, he thought he heard Newcomb call him a derogatory name. Michael took a deep breath and walked on.