As they walked through the garden, Louisa stared stubbornly ahead of her, the usual frozen smile on her face. First, she’d had to nod her way through the ludicrous tale that Thomas had spun about illegitimate identical cousins. And now she was being forced to listen to her grandfather misidentifying flowers and shrubs and bragging to the countess that the space had been designed by John Nash, giving her no credit at all for a decade’s work.
If this day was a somehow part of the plan Thomas had claimed to have yesterday, she was going to tell him the moment they were alone that he must stop helping her, immediately. If he continued as he was going, the next time they were both in London he would be paying a penny to visit her in Bedlam.
The tour ended with tea in the drawing room, just as Grandfather had promised. No mention was made of the fact that she had arranged it the moment she’d realised they were having a guest. The teacakes were still warm from the oven as they sat down to eat them.
To an observer unfamiliar with the whole of the current situation, the conversation as they ate probably seemed normal.
The countess did not seem to find anything strange, nor did she notice that she and the duke were doing most of the talking. Louisa kept to monosyllables, unable to trust herself with more. Percy ended each comment he made with a nervous laugh.
And, as usual, Grandfather was worst of all. He was dressed all in black and the way he perched on the edge of his chair and picked at a biscuit had her imagining a raven who was waiting for the right moment to peck someone it didn’t like.
Since he didn’t like anyone, they were all at risk.
After nearly an hour of one-sided chatter, the countess set her cup aside. ‘It has been most kind of you to entertain me, but I must be going, now.’ She reached out and touched Thomas’s hand. ‘So nice to have met you, Sir. It is good to know that our dear Louisa has been so well matched.’
Louisa bit her lip to keep from announcing that, since the countess had not bothered to speak to her in the three years since their initial introduction, the endearment was unwelcome and unnecessary. When she was sure she was properly in control, she rose, smiled and said, ‘Thank you for your well wishes. Let me see you to the door.’
She went outside to make sure that the countess got safely into her carriage and waved after it as it pulled down the drive and out of sight. Then, she returned to the dangerously silent sitting room to rejoin the gentlemen.
‘Sit. Down.’ It was not a sentence. Just two words her grandfather bit off and spat out in her direction, accompanied by a black look and a sneer.
She did as he demanded, sinking back into the bergère she’d occupied while the countess had been there, wishing she could disappear beneath the cushions.
‘So.’ Her grandfather’s head snapped around, pinning Percy in place with a death stare. ‘You have brought someone’s natural child into my house.’ He shuddered with revulsion.
‘Well.’ Percy laughed again, but it was a pathetically small sound in the stillness of the room. ‘A by-blow of a duke’s brother is hardly unwelcome in Society. One might say he has more status than we do.’
‘I do not say that!’
Louisa could not help jumping in her chair. Her nerves were already wound tight as wire. She hated it when her grandfather shouted and it sounded like his tirade was just beginning. She glanced at Thomas, hoping to draw some strength from him.
He had more than enough to share. Other than a steely glint in his eye, he was as calm and competent as ever. ‘I am sure Percy meant no disrespect to either of our families. Perhaps I do not bear the Carew name, but there is no shame in associating with me.’
Her grandfather raised an eyebrow. ‘And yet, you say you are all but banned from London. If you are never in the same place as your cousin, should Louisa be so foolish as to marry you, she might never go to Town again.’
‘I do not like London, Grandfather,’ she said, smiling as if she had not noticed he was in a temper. ‘It does not matter to me if I live in the country.’
‘This does not concern you,’ her grandfather said. He gave her a look that told her if she was not already sorry she’d interrupted, she soon would be.
‘On the contrary, it very much concerns her,’ Thomas said. ‘It is her future we are speaking of. She is of age and has the final word in who she marries and where she lives.’
‘She can marry whoever she likes,’ her grandfather replied with a derisive snort to show what he thought of her judgement so far. ‘But I have the final say in what happens to her money. I have no intention of releasing it, only to see it wasted by a foolish girl.’
‘If it belongs to her,’ Thomas said in the same silky smooth, reasonable voice, ‘she has every right to it. And Louisa is not the least bit foolish. Her level head is one of her most admirable qualities.’
‘All you admire is her fortune, Mr Smith. When you heard there was money coming to her should you marry her, she likely became the most attractive woman in the world.’
Thomas was angry, now. The change was so subtle as to be nearly invisible, but she had been watching him for years and could read his face like a primer. ‘Since I am not blind, as you seem to be, I was aware of her beauty the first time I met her. It is not the money that made me offer for her, Lord Skeffington. I did it because I love her.’
Louisa gripped the arms of the chair, sinking her fingers into the cushions on the arms, afraid that she was going to slide out of it and onto the floor, and melt into a puddle of happiness on the rug. She had been imagining those words being spoken for over a decade. But even in her wildest fantasies, they had not sounded as heartfelt and earnest as they did today.
Then she remembered Tom Smith was not much different from the hero of her dreams. The duke was not speaking for himself. This was just another chapter of the story he’d made up to get her inheritance for her. It was her job to play along with him.
Her head cleared, the spinning room stilled and she smiled as she had never smiled before. She exuded the sublime happiness of a woman who knew she was loved and returned that love with the whole of her heart.
Her grandfather looked at her, disgusted. ‘I don’t care what this idiot says, girl. You are just as I’ve always thought, too simple to be allowed out on your own. Wipe that grin from your silly face and go to your room before I summon a keeper to haul you to the madhouse.’
For a moment, she felt her knees tightening, as her body prepared to rise and do as it had been instructed. Then, she remembered that Thomas was right. She was not a child to be sent to her room so the adults could talk. She had the largest share in this conversation. She would not be bullied out of it.
