“You will not, and trust me on this, if I find out you’ve moved into the manor, the consequences will be severe. Do I make myself clear?”
“You can’t—”
George threw his napkin down and stood. “Good day, Mother. I wish you a pleasant journey,” he said, exiting the dining room.
He strode down the hall to his study, seething. He’d nearly lost his temper with his mother but had somehow held it in check. Grace had a way of irritating him, but now he’d finally have some peace and quiet. As soon as his mother departed for the country, he’d start making arrangements to have the marchioness’s suite remodeled. He wanted everything to be perfect for Lydia.
He poured himself a brandy and took a big gulp. A knock on the door interrupted him.
“Come.”
The door opened, and Peters announced, “Mr. Sterling to see you, my lord.”
“Thank you, Peters. Please have the curricle brought around.”
Peters nodded and left the room.
“Lord Hutchinson, a pleasure to see you again,” Mr. Sterling said, walking into his study. “I wish you happy, my lord.”
“Thank you. Shall we depart?”
Mr. Sterling followed George out to the foyer, where Peters handed George his hat and cane and opened the front door.
They climbed into the curricle, and a groom hopped on the back. George flicked the reins to get the horses walking. It didn’t take long to reach the Weston townhouse, and the groom jumped down to take care of the horses.
Prescott opened the door as they walked up the stairs. “Lord Hutchinson, you are expected. Please follow me,” the butler said, escorting them into Thomas’s study.
“Mr. Weston, it’s a pleasure to see you today. I’ve brought my solicitor, Mr. Sterling, to draft the marriage settlements,” George said.
Thomas nodded. “Good day, Lord Hutchinson, Mr. Sterling. This is my solicitor, Mr. Dempsey. Shall we get started?”
George and Mr. Sterling took the chairs in front of Thomas’s desk, and they hammered out the details of the marriage contract. He hoped Mr. Weston would not renege on the full amount of Lydia’s dowry. He desperately needed those funds to put the estate back in the black. He also wanted to make sure Lydia would be well taken care of if something untoward should happen to him. He also gifted her one of the smaller properties that was not entailed as her own personal property. That way, she’d always have a place to call her own.
When the discussions were concluded, both solicitors left to draw up the contracts for signatures. “Mr. Sterling, my driver will take you back to your office,” George told his solicitor.
“Are you sure, my lord?”
“Yes. I’ll walk home. I always enjoy a good brisk walk.”
“The contracts will be ready to sign tomorrow. What time would you like me to come by?” George asked Mr. Weston.
“After luncheon will suit. I expect you to take good care of my daughter, Hutchinson,” Weston said.
“Mr. Weston, you need have no fear on that account. I love Lydia with all my heart and will make sure she has a happy and fulfilling life.”
“Good. Now I must be going. I have other appointments today.”
George stood. “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He left the Weston townhouse and started the trek back home, hoping his mother would be gone by the time he arrived because he didn’t want to endure any more of her biting words or rude behavior.
Unfortunately, the Hutchinson carriage was still in front of the house when he arrived. He walked up the stairs, and Peters opened the door. “Lady Hutchinson wishes a word with you, my lord. She’s waiting in the parlor.”
George nodded and walked into the parlor. His mother had changed into a traveling dress, and she looked quite worn out. The black circles under her eyes were more pronounced, and the lines around her eyes and mouth had deepened. “Mother, is there something you need?”
“Hutchinson, there’s no need for you to be so dramatic in sending me away. I wish to be able to visit my friends, and this is cruel and unbecoming of you.”
“May I remind you that you have not seen any of your friends in months? I doubt that is the issue. Besides, the cruelty is yours, Mother, in your speech and behavior toward me, as well as your bias against Miss Weston. It will not be tolerated. I’ve had enough. Now, I wish you a safe journey. Goodbye, Mother.” As he strode from the room, he could hear her sharp intake of breath behind him. Evidently, she’d thought she could convince him to let her stay in London. How badly mistaken she was. Life would be much more pleasant without his mother’s biting tongue haranguing him every day.
