There was a long pause between them, then Charles sighed.
“My dear girl, I don’t mean to make you upset. But think over what I’ve said. I should like you to set your mind towards marriage. We will be joining the Season, and that’s that, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll look around for something more tangible than your work.”
“Yes, Papa,” Eleanor said weakly. There didn’t seem much else to say.
Chapter Three
Three Days Later
Henry fidgeted in his uncomfortable best suit. He was already missing the relaxed fashions of the French countryside, along with his cool suits and loosened cravats. This was London, socomfortandfreedomwere not two words a gentlemen expected to encounter often.
The carriage was taking him deep into the city, to a particular warehouse attached to an office building. A leather folder, tied with a strip of narrow black ribbon, contained all the details Henry needed to know about Fairfax Porcelain Manufacturing, as well as the man who owned it. Charles Fairfax was a good businessman, that was generally agreed upon, although he had no sons, only two daughters. The business had been a good one for decades, but lately it had begun to struggle, according to Henry’s research.
What they needed was a man with money, one with ideas as to how to expand and renew their business.
Henry had one of those two things.
He was sure William would lend him the money, if need be. He hadsomemoney from the estate, and surely, he would marry soon enough. William knew his duty, as he liked to remind them all frequently.
The idea of marriage, as always, made Henry shift uncomfortably. He still hadn’t decided which was worse; joining the Season and marrying a woman who cared nothing for travel and had no original ideas beyond what she read in the gossip columns, or letting the year go by and resigning himself to a life of poverty and sponging off his brothers and sister.
I wish William and Alexander would marry first. Then there might be a sister-in-law or family friend for me to meet. Wouldn’t that be easier? A match built on friendship? Love is nonsense, after all. Nice to read about in novels, but it doesn’texist.
The carriage slowed in a particularly busy part of London, in front of a tall, thin office building. Polite Society generally avoidedthe more industrial area of London, on account of it beingvulgarandunbecomingto have an interest in trade or business. As a second son, Henry’s interest in entrepreneurship was mostly ignored, since he was not going to be aduke, after all. Second sons were allowed a great deal of freedom.
Generally speaking, of course.
Smoothing a hand over his cream-and-gold waistcoat and wondering why he cared so much about his appearance today, Henry stepped out of the carriage. The door to the offices was already open, and a thin, gray-haired man that he recognized as Charles Fairfax stood at the door, smiling nervously.
“Lord Henry!” Mr. Fairfax said, voice wobbling.
“I apologise for my lateness, sir,” Henry said, striding up the stairs and stepping past Mr. Fairfax into the high-ceilinged foyer inside. “There was a snarl of horses and carts on our road, and we were obliged to wait for it to clear.”
“No apology necessary, not at all!” Mr. Fairfax made an awkward bow which immediately made Henry feel uncomfortable. “A duke arrives when he means to, I’m sure!”
“I’m not a duke,” Henry said shortly. “LordHenry is an honorary title. My brother is the Duke of Dunleigh. I hope that is clear, Mr. Fairfax. If it is not, we can end our business here. I am no duke. Do you understand? Is this clear?”
“It is abundantly clear, Lord Henry,” came an unfamiliar feminine voice from behind Henry, making him jump.
He turned around, trying not to glare.
A young woman in her early twenties stood behind him, lips pressed together. She was remarkably pretty, with smooth auburn hair twisted back in a simple knot at the base of her neck, tendrils escaping around her face. She had large green eyes – real green, not hazel or blue-green – and a pale oval face. She wore a simple dress, nothing that Katherine would ever stoop to wear. She had a sheaf of papers tucked under her arm and was currently glaring balefully up at Henry.
He felt color rise to his cheeks.
“I didn’t mean…” he began but was interrupted.
“You meant that my father might not have done his research,” she said shortly. “That he did not understand who youwere and might in fact be hoping to leverage the influence of the Duke of Dunleigh, who is not, of course, you.”
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“I can see that I’ve given offence,” Henry said at last. “I will confess, I initially thought… but please, I must beg for your forgiveness. I hate to be late, and my delay made me skittish. That’s no excuse, of course.”
“No apology necessary, my lord!” Mr. Fairfax said hastily, shooting a quick and warning glance at his daughter. “This is Miss Eleanor Fairfax, my… my daughter. I suppose that much is evident. My dear, there is no need for you to join us.”
The tension in the atmosphere intensified.
“It’s no trouble, Papa,” Miss Fairfax said smoothly. “See, I’ve prepared all the information Lord Henry will want to see. The accounts, our own future plans, and so on. A few sketches for new designs, that sort of thing.”
