He held her close in return. “I promise, Mary…I promise I will do all in my power to make you a very happy lady.” He then leaned back just enough so that he could see her face. “However, you must resign yourself to being courted and spoiled rotten between now and the day we marry. Even beyond that point if you will let me.”
Chapter 13
Gregory proceeded to set the curricle in motion once again. Mary was content to remain in silence, simply feeling her betrothed’s presence beside her. It was hard to believe that she was once again engaged to be married. Yet, at the same time, it was the most natural thing in the world. She belonged next to Gregory Worsley.
As soon as that thought passed through her mind, she remembered that Gregory Worsley had another name. He was also Earl of Pendleton, heir to the Marquess of Glyndebourne.
“Gregory,” she said hesitatingly, “Is there something else you need to tell me? Perhaps something I might need to know as your future wife.”
His expression became a bit sheepish. “I am afraid the conversation got away from me,” he said. “I was simply so happy to have you in my arms at last. You are right. There is something important I need to tell you. It may even change your mind about marrying me, though you seem to already know about it.” He glanced at her questioningly.
“What I know or do not know is of no matter,” said Mary sternly. “We both know that I should hear it from your own lips.”
Gregory sighed. “I am the oldest son of the Marquess of Glyndebourne. My courtesy title is Earl of Pendleton,” he said. “Though I am the owner of most of the land around Eastbourne,my family’s land, the land attached to the title of Marquess, is in West Sussex.”
“Thank you for telling me,” said Mary.
“You do not seem surprised,” he said. “I suppose you must have heard it in London. It isn’t exactly a secret, but neither my father nor I spend much time in London, so we aren’t as well-known as some others. I have gone by Worsley my whole life. Though most of the ladies of London know who I am, simply going by Mister instead of Earl tends to make people treat me differently than they would if I insisted on using my title.”
A few moments of silence passed. “Do you still wish to marry me?” Gregory asked hesitatingly. “I know you have no desire for or pretension to a title. Social power means little to you.”
“I did hear of your title in London,” said Mary. “Lady Matlock informed me of it. I have had five months to get used to the idea, so of course I do not wish to change my mind. I only wonder that you would want someone like me as your wife. I am hardly elegant, not particularly sociable, and not even particularly pretty. Not exactly what one imagines as a countess or marchioness.”
Again, Gregory stopped the curricle and faced her. “You may not fit society’s image of a noble Lady,” he said, and Mary felt a pang, but he continued quickly. “I do not see that as a bad thing, however. I have always wanted a wife who would help me take care of the people in my domain, not someone who would simply laud their own superiority.
“Eastbourne, in particular, is quite difficult to manage, because the tenants change from year to year and even season to season. I will need your help, your pragmatic approach to charity, even your knowledge of business. You are perfectlysuited to be my wife in personality and manner. As far as looks go, I have always loved to look at you. Your brown eyes, usually so calm and thoughtful, are a delight to behold when you are learning something new or discussing a topic of particular interest.”
He placed a hand on her cheek, and for a moment Mary thought he would kiss her again. Instead, he said, “I hardly need to remind you how attractive I find you.” His voice was deeper, and his eyes held the fire of passion that they had held after their kiss.
Mary surprised herself by saying, “Remind me anyway.”
Immediately, his lips were on hers. It took mere moments for him to deepen his kiss, and Mary was once again lost in the feeling of him. There was no doubt in her mind that Gregory desired her very much.
When he pulled away, he said nothing. He merely turned back to the reins and set the curricle in motion.
Once Mary could tell that their breathing was back to normal, Gregory said, “I think we may need a chaperone from now on. It is not usually considered necessary for a widow, but…” He trailed off, and Mary knew what he couldn’t bring himself to say.
“I agree,” she said.
“Is there any way I could convince you to just elope with me? It wouldn’t take long to get a license, you know.”
“It sounds so easy and wonderful and romantic,” said Mary, “but we would regret it in time. If we are to truly become one, if you truly wish me to be a partner instead of a possession, we need to take the time to arrange our financial and legal affairs. We need to involve our families. Additionally, I needtime to make arrangements for the care of my tenants here.” She gestured around her at the fields they passed.
Gregory scowled petulantly, and Mary couldn’t blame him. She felt the same way, but she knew she was right. “You are right,” he said. “I don’t like it, but you are right.”
“I don’t like it either,” said Mary quietly. She wanted to feel his kiss again, wanted to be married to him immediately. Instead, she scooted as far away from him as she could on the little bench seat of the curricle.
He chuckled at her, knowing that she was doing what was necessary for both of them.
It didn’t take much longer for them to come back to Braydon Hall. Mary led him inside, so she could share her news with Elizabeth.
The following week was full of visits with family and friends, introducing Gregory as Mary’s betrothed. It was a time that was both delightful and stressful. There were moments of wonder as Mary and Gregory discussed their future together. There were moments of intense embarrassment, such as when Mrs. Bennet crowed loudly at having a future marquess in the family.
They settled on a wedding date of December first, which was the first Sunday of that month. There was much to be done in the interim. Though Mary didn’t need to buy a great deal of wedding clothes, since she was a widow, she did need some. Some of her evening gowns were not quite suitable for the wife of an earl.
Fortunately, Mary did not need to make a special trip to London for her new clothes. Much of what she needed could be purchased in Meryton, and for the rest, she sent a letter to her Aunt Gardiner asking her to acquire what was needed.
On October tenth, Mary left her home to visit Eastbourne for a week. She was fortunate enough to have obtained permission for Kitty to join her on her excursion. The journey would take one and a half days each way, with a week-long stay in between so that Mary could tour her future home and make any changes she desired. She also planned to get to know the village better.
