Henry’s eyes snapped up, his temper flaring. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said, his voice flat. “You cannot force me to marry.”
She lifted her chin. “Do not underestimate my resolve. If I must invite suitable candidates to tea, parade them before you, and approach their fathers to strike a bargain myself. The Arundel name will not die because my son refuses to fulfill his role.”
He exhaled, hands clenching under the desk. Arguing further would only deepen her determination. He knew his mother well: Once she decided on a course of action, it was nearly impossible to dissuade her. Even though she couldn’t technically force him to wed, she could certainly put him into a very difficult situation.
He closed his eyes for a moment, picturing the life he wanted—freedom, security, and no risk of his secrets emerging. But that last part was impossible with marriage. A wife would be close, a partner, someone who might discover things best left buried.
Yet standing firm against his mother’s demands would bring its own calamities. If she began openly meddling, who knew what messes might result? Gossip, scandal… and if the truth surfaced, it would not just ruin him, it would ruin anyone tied to him, including any unfortunate bride she foisted upon him.
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, and his mother watched him like a hawk. “I am not unreasonable,” she said eventually, softening her tone as if to offer a small mercy. “I will give you some time to make your choice. But I mean what I say. If you cannot or will not select a suitable bride, I will do so for you. You owe that much to this family. And there are ways of changing your mind.”
She wasthreateninghim?
Henry nodded stiffly, knowing he had no choice but to acquiesce for now. The tension in his shoulders was almostpainful. “I understand,” he said coldly. “Thank you for affording me that time.”
Ignoring his sarcasm, a small, satisfied smile touched her lips. “See that you use it wisely,” she said, and turned to leave, her skirts whispering over the polished floor. At the door, she paused. “I do hope you’ll remember your obligations when next you attend a ball or soiree. There are many eligible ladies who would make fine duchesses.” Then she left, the door clicking shut with a soft finality.
Alone once more, Henry released a long, shuddering breath. The clock on the mantel ticked softly. Henry sighed and turned his attention back to the estate’s affairs. He might not have a clear path forward on the matter of a wife, but at least he could control something. The earth would give its harvest, the tenants would get their fair share, and life would continue for now… but he couldn’t continue to keep this storm at bay forever.
The words on the letter swam in front of his eyes, suddenly refusing to make any sense. His head was pounding, and he could no longer concentrate on considerations of corn harvests. He put the letter into the drawer and stood up. He was due to meet William at White’s gentleman’s club shortly and so decided to take a stroll there rather than using the carriage. Perhaps that would clear his head.
He walked down Pall Mall and soon wished he had taken the carriage after all. Couples strolled past arm in arm, young ladies with their chaperones—who were only too delighted to greet the Duke of Arundel—and a few of his peers who inevitably stopped him to inquire about his day.
Henry couldn’t walk more than a few yards without stopping to make polite and boring conversation with some other member of London’s fashionable set. By the time he reached White’s, he was positively drained.
The club was highly exclusive. Only men of around Henry’s rank or higher were admitted. It was a very different place to the club he’d boxed at just a few days before. As he entered and gave his coat to the footman, the smell of tobacco and expensive leather wafted over to him.
He walked past an imposing bust of the late King George II and made his way to his usual—and coveted—seat by the huge fireplace. William was already there, sitting at their usual table with a cigar in hand and the news sheets open in front of him.
“Reading the gossip sheets again?” Henry smiled, leaning over his friend’s shoulder.
William started guiltily and quickly turned the page. “Not at all,” he blustered. “That’s for the women. You’re early.”
William waved to the waiter as Henry took his seat opposite.
“I had to get away from Mother.” He groaned, rubbing his temples. The stuffy air did little to help his headache. “She’s insisting I marry. Soon.”
“And she’s taking no notice of your protestations that you would rather remain a bachelor for the time being,” William said glumly.
A statement rather than a question. Henry was well aware that his friend was in the same boat. At least, on the face of it, they were. It was Henry who held all the dark secrets.
“Lady Fitzgerald is of much the same mind, then?”
William rolled his eyes. “Absolutelyobsessedwith my duty to continue the Fitzgerald line.”
“I’m well acquainted with that one.” Henry stared into the glass of brandy being set down before him. Its amber-colored liquid looked all too tempting.
William handed him a cigar. “So, how did you leave things? Does she have anyone in particular she wants you to court?”
“Oh, there were a few suggestions.” Henry thought it wise not to mention that Charlotte’s name had come up in theconversation. He wasn’t sure what his friend would make of it, and neither did he want to examine his own feelings of fondness that had arisen for his best friend’s younger sister.
Or the memory of how charming she had looked in that dress at last week’s ball.
“I suppose you told her that you had no intention of marrying?” William ran his fingers around the rim of his glass thoughtfully.
“Well, what else should I say?”
“Look,” William leaned in toward him, his voice dropping to a low and confidential tone. “If there’s one thing I have learned recently from dealing with my own darling mother, it’s that pressing your case just doesn’t work. Mothers don’t listen.”
