It was the most difficult thing she’d ever tried to do. She couldn’t stop thinking about him and hoping that a way around their current situation could be found, but Society at large would never accept her as the Marchioness of Hutchinson. She was a merchant’s daughter, albeit one with a very large dowry. She felt certain George had loved her for more than her money, but she’d be hard-pressed not to be suspicious of any other gentleman who showed an interest in her. However, it was the way things were and there was nothing for it. She’d concentrate on finding a gentleman she could at least respect, even if he was only marrying her for her dowry.
“Are you well, Miss Weston?” Ellie asked.
Lydia opened her eyes and nodded. “Yes, I’m quite well.”
“You look so sad.”
“Not at all.”
Lydia closed her eyes again. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about her crushed and devastated heart. She would put on a brave face and work on securing another match.
By the time Owen stopped in front of Weston House, she wanted nothing more than to run to the sanctuary of her bedchamber. He jumped down and handed her down.
Wright opened the front door. “Welcome back, Miss Weston,” the butler said. “There are a number of letters for you in the post today.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wright. I’ll take them upstairs with me.”
“Very good.”
As Lydia walked into the foyer and grabbed the letters off the table, she heard loud voices coming from down the hall. “Ellie, I’ll be right up,” she said, handing her bonnet and gloves to her maid.
Ellie nodded and headed up the stairs.
Lydia walked down the hall toward her father’s study and heard her aunt say, “You must tell Lydia. Can’t you see how circumstances have changed?”
“No!” her father shouted. “I forbid it.”
“Thomas, be reasonable.”
“Agnes, you forget yourself. Do not mention this again or you’ll not like the consequences. The subject is closed.”
What was this argument about? What didn’t she know, and what consequences was her father talking about? She adored her aunt and never wanted anything bad to happen to her. Before she could be caught eavesdropping, she turned around and headed up to her bedchamber. Perhaps her aunt would enlighten her about this latest argument with her father. As she walked up the stairs, she couldn’t help but wonder what it was her aunt thought she should know.
Richard andGeorge exitedthe carriage and headed inside the boxing club. Both men had been sparring at Gentleman Jack’s since they’d come back from the war. It was a great way to stay fit and relieve stress and frustration—both of which George had in abundance today.
They stripped off their jackets, waistcoats, cravats, and shirts before wrapping their hands in white linen.
“Not the face,” Richard said, climbing into the ring. “My lovely wife won’t be happy if I come home with a shiner.”
George chuckled and followed his friend into the ring. “Can’t have the lovely lady upset with you, now can we?”
The two men danced around each other before George got in a shot to his friend’s ribs. “Has married life made you slow?” he taunted.
Richard merely smiled and launched a series of blows at George before dancing out of the way of his fists.
After another twenty minutes of vigorous mutual pounding, Richard held up his hands in mock surrender. “Enough! You’ve made your point. You’re still the better boxer.”
It was the first time George had smiled all day. The men climbed out of the ring, washed, and dressed. “Thanks for indulging me today. I needed that,” he said.
“I can imagine. It mustn’t be easy seeing Miss Weston again, especially since it was such an unexpected meeting.”
George shook his head. “No, it wasn’t easy at all.”
“So, have you decided whether to attend a few events?”
“I’m still thinking about it,” George said.
“You should. It does no good to sit and brood about things you have no control over.”
