CHAPTER TWO
September 1817, Palace of Westminster, London
“Rupert.”
Rupert, Earl of Stanstead, turned as his cousin Robert, Viscount Beaumont, caught up with him. “I thought you were coming home with me. Elizabeth has been asking for you.”
“Elizabeth is only six months old,” Rupert pointed out. “She is much too young to ask for anyone.”
“Nonsense, she’s extremely advanced for her age.” Robert’s whole demeanor changed when he talked about his family. It was as if he had entered a land where nothing could make him sad or angry.
“Sorry. I was waylaid by Lord Banks.” Rupert ran his palm down his face. “I’ll go with you now.” Before Robert had met his wife, Serena, he’d been the worst rake in England. Now his world revolved around his wife and baby daughter. Rupert had never before seen such a sudden and permanent transformation.
His cousin’s gaze sharpened. “What did Banks say to you to put you in such a foul mood?”
“He warned me away from his daughter.” Not that Rupert had any clear idea who the girl was, but apparently she’d been part of a bevy of young ladies walking in the Park yesterday. “I am too young to have serious intentions, and he’d thank me not to raise her hopes. He has five other daughters and needs to marry this one off as soon as may be.” Robert’s lips tightened, and Rupert went on. “He did say that the girl he has coming out in about six years might do. By then, I’d be of sufficient age and maturity.”
“Damn,” Robert swore softly.
“My thoughts precisely, even if I can’t remember her. I expect to hear similar warnings from other fathers. He suggested I find a mistress.”
“You have one already.” Robert linked his arm with Rupert’s as they strolled down the street toward St. James’s Park.
“Ihadone.” Rupert paused, selecting his words. “It is not what I want. After seeing the arrangements my mother and father and you and Serena have, as well as our other friends, I desire nothing more than a wife.”
His cousin was quiet for a few moments as they strode through Green Park. “I don’t wish to dissuade you. Quite frankly, I don’t think I could. You suffer what I now call ‘the Beaumont syndrome.’ ”
“I beg your pardon?” Rupert wasn’t sure if it was an insult or not. “What do you mean by that?”
“Don’t get on your high horse. It means when we want something we go after it and damn all else to hell. I did it with Serena. Even your mother did it with your father when she was young.”
Robert had compromised Serena. If it had not been for their grandmother and Serena’s family whisking her off to France, he might never have admitted he loved her. Rupert could hardly blame only his mother for engaging in relations with his father when they were young. There had been no way for them to know the part her father would play.
“You found partners.” Rupert shrugged, not understanding what his cousin was saying. “Someone with whom you could have anaffaire de cœur. Which is what I desire above all else.”
“You must look at how we went about pursuing our loves.” Robert’s brows drew together. “I almost lost Serena, and your mother did lose Edward for years.” He paused again. “Ever since my wedding, you’ve been intent on marriage. What I think you should consider is whether or not you are giving yourself the time to find the right lady. For the better part of a year you pursued Miss Manning, even after she’d made it clear that she wanted a different sort of life from what you offered. One cannot have a successful marriage when one’s goals are not the same.”
“I hadn’t thought of it in quite that way.” Rupert had to give the devil his due. Hehadbeen so focused on gaining Miss Manning’s hand in marriage, he’d failed to even notice her interest in Lord Peter and that gentleman’s interest in her. They both wanted nothing more than the life of a diplomat. She would have been miserable living in England all the time.
As for being too young, Rupert felt much older than his years. He had come into his title at an early age, and even when he’d been on his Grand Tour he had missed his estate and his seat in the Lords. Now that he had returned, and despite his age, he was becoming influential in political circles. “What do you suggest?”
“Stand back a bit.” They had been strolling in the general direction of Berkeley Square when Robert stopped walking and faced Rupert. “At some point, there will be a lady whom you cannot ignore. She will dominate every waking thought and haunt your dreams. You’ll want to fight every man who asks her to dance or accompanies her during the Grand Strut.”
“You make it sound like an obsession.” Rupert had used a light tone, trying to lessen his cousin’s seriousness.
“In a way, it is.” Robert nodded slowly, and glanced away. “Yet it’s vastly more confounding. When you meet the lady you truly love, you would gladly lay down your life for her.”
“Is that what you felt for Serena?”
His cousin gave a harsh laugh. “All that and more. Nothing could compare. Later, after I’d almost lost her, I realized that what I’d thought was love, before her, was a weak imitation.” He glanced over at Rupert. “Did you feel that way about Miss Manning?”
He shook his head. “No.” After what his cousin had just said, it was clear he had never experienced that type of strong emotion. “She was beautiful, and I thought I was in love, but when she told me she had formed an attachment to Lord Peter, I felt nothing but sadness that it hadn’t worked out.”
They turned off Piccadilly onto Berkeley Street, which would lead them to Robert’s residence in Berkeley Square.
“Then I’d say you have not yet met the woman you were meant to be with.”
“How did you know Serena was the right one?”
