“Oh! So, it is because she flouted your decisions. Not, I presume, because giving charity to destitute children is a crime now?” He made a wry face.
“She handed out our oranges to a flock of grubby ruffians,” his mother said tightly. “That is not how a guest should act.”
“She is not a guest,” Callum hissed. “She is the future lady of the manor. I think we can allow that she has more right here than a mere acquaintance.” He winced as he glanced sideways at Harriet, hearing the venom in his own voice and knowing it would distress her.
Harriet was standing with her back against the wall of the conservatory, watching them with round, scared eyes. Her hands hung at her sides, her posture tense.
“That is what I am talking about!” his mother shouted.
“Please, Mother. At least we should have the decency to shut the door,” Callum interrupted, striding toward it.
“Do not change the subject. I shall not stand for this. You must reconsider. You are a fool if you do this to the manor. You will be bankrupt before long. No one shall want investments from a man who has the dull-wittedness to choose someone with no sense of social standing or proper etiquette.”
Callum looked at his mother in disbelief. His throat tightened and he fought the urge to shout at her. After a moment, he managed to speak. “What, exactly, are you requiring me to do?”
“I am requiring you to become betrothed to someone else instead.”
Callum gaped at her, unable to comprehend her words. She could not be serious.
He repeated the words slowly.
“Become betrothed to someone else?”
He could not find words to explain to her how he felt. After a long, long pause of staring at each other, he cleared his throat.
“Are you out of your wits?” he demanded softly. “Do you truly believe I could turn my back on that woman, and walk towards a socialite who, although undeniably pretty, has the shallowest of characters and no apparent values?”
“Lady Millicent is the sort of stuff that duchesses are made of!” his mother said angrily.
“I do not want a duchess like her,” Callum said roughly, and as he spoke, he found words coming to his mind that he knew were absolutely true. “I want a duchess who is compassionate, caring, one who understands my vision for the manor and has aspirations of her own. A woman who is gentle, loving, and who loves me in return, as I love her. I know who I want. I have chosen her already. I love her with all my heart. And I will not change my mind, no matter what threats you concoct. I love her.”
His mother looked at him. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped and for a long moment, she said nothing. Then she shrugged.
“Well, what can I do?” she asked, and her voice was tight and small, a mix of hurt and disbelief in her words. “If you have made your decision, then you have made it. But do not expect me to celebrate with you.” She turned around and went out through the door.
Callum leaned back and shut his eyes. He felt impossibly weary, drained of all his strength. He heard someone drop something onto the table and he opened his eyes again.
“Harriet?” he asked with concern. “Are you quite well?”
“Brother,” Harriet said quietly. She was crying, tears running down her cheeks. He went to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight. She sobbed silently, then leaned back and looked up at him.
“Shh,” Callum said gently, as he had when she was a little child, and she was crying in distress. He stroked her hair back from her brow. “It is all well. It will be well.”
“You won’t let Mama chase the Rothwell family away?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Callum shook his head. “No, my dear. I will not. Your heart, and mine, matter. She will come round to the idea.”
“She will?” Harriet sounded unsure as she gazed up at him.
“Mm.” Callum nodded. “You know her. She may not like it now, but she shall come around. Remember how she was when I bought the barouche?” he teased.
“She was silent for a whole day,” Harriet remembered.
“She was. But eventually, she looked at it and said that if I wanted that lump of metal and wood, I was welcome to it.” He chuckled at the recollection.
“You are right,” she said softly. “Mayhap she will come to accept our choices soon.”
“She will,” Callum assured her softly. “It will all be well, Harriet.”
