Mary should not have been surprised. Her mother had long had a core of disapproval for almost everything in her life, including her children, the result of an arranged marriage with a man who lived far from her home and family in Wales. But Mary had been relying heavily on the guidance of her mother as she prepared for her debut, and the return of the dowager duchess to the north had pulled up one of Mary’s anchors, leaving her a bit adrift and more than a little angry.
Then her second anchor began to shift in the sand. Beth, who had been completely engaged in helping Mary prepare for her launch into Society, had suddenly faced not only the prospective move to India, but also the discovery that she was with child.
Then the rumors about Mary and Mina began to fly amongst theton, before the first invitations of the season could be sent. Beth’s friends, who had welcomed them all back to London with open arms, shuttered their doors. Beth, now stressed beyond reason, had no energy for the battle, and Kit remained—to put it politely—clueless about the ways of theton.
Mary’s safe and secure world shattered into flinders as she faced the prospect of either sacrificing her season—and possibly her reputation—to return north and to her scowling mother, or remaining in London alone at the gracious mercy of Beth’s parents and the disdain of the Beau Monde. And while the Duke and Duchess of Kennet seemed to be nice people, from what Mary knew of them, depending on strangers felt intimidating at best, terrifying at worst.
Then, less than a week ago, when Kit had bemoaned leaving his sister alone, with his departure to his new appointment in India encroaching, one of his new London friends had suggestedthe Lyon’s Den. At the time, helping alleviate some of Kit’s responsibilities had seemed the right thing to do. Now it felt as if Mary were leaping out of the frying pan and into the fire.
The clock finished its chiming, and Mrs. Dove-Lyon slid a cup and saucer toward her. “It will brighten your spirits.”
Mary sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Perhaps he will not come.”
Kit paused in his pacing snarled. “He had better.”
“He will. Lord Thaddeus is not always punctual, but he is never negligent.”
As if he had heard the words, Lord Thaddeus entered, breathless and flush-faced, followed by a frustrated-looking member of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s staff.
“My apologies.” He nodded to each of them. “Your Grace. Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Lady Mary.” He carried a rolled sheath of papers and gestured with them toward the door, gasping for air. “I have come from my solic—”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon pointed at the chair. “For pity’s sake, man. Sit and calm yourself.” She waved the staff member out and motioned for him to close the door.
Lord Thaddeus hesitated, then sat, and Mary straightened, amusement lifting a touch of her burden. Again, he had no hat. “Did you run all the way from your solicitor’s? Or have you been thrown by an over-whipped horse?” She glanced at the top of his head. “Perhaps that is what happened to today’s hat.”
Lord Thaddeus stared at her, taking in several long deep breaths. “I would never—” Gasp. “Never whip a horse. Magnificent creatures that should be—” Gasp. “Encouraged and prodded.” He let out a slow exhale. “Not whipped.”
“Then I should introduce you to our Highland Ponies. They are sure-footed and placid but with a singular lack of urgency, even on a hunt.”
He fell silent, those blue-gray eyes studying her. “You have Highland Ponies?”
“An entire herd.”
“Do you whip them?”
Her eyebrows arched. “No. They have taught me patience, if nothing else. My father adored them.”
“Do you?”
“Enduringly.”
He swallowed, then ran a hand through the dark strands of his hair, all of which had gone wildly astray during his dash to the Lyon’s Den. Perhaps his top hat had landed in a gutter along the way. Taking a deep breath, he nodded then turned to Mrs. Dove-Lyon. “I would like to sign the agreement but with an amendment.”
He unrolled the sheath of papers still clutched in his fist and handed a single page to each of them... including Mary.
She blinked at it. She had not been given the contract to review until she and Kit had returned home. But this man had brought her a copy of whatever he wished to add, a gesture that she found oddly endearing. She forced herself to look down at the page.
Pursuant to the terms of the above agreement, all parties consent to two additional items:
1)the terms of the agreement will be kept silent for a period of two weeks, with no details shared beyond the parties herein;
2)a courtship period of two weeks, to take place prior to the reading of the banns, during which the above proposed bride and groom be allowed to visit or correspond with each other daily.
At the end of that time period, these same parties will mutually agree to either the completion of the above terms or that the agreement is hereby null and void.
An indication for the signatures of Lord Thaddeus and Kit lay below that last line.
Mary chewed her lower lip.
