In the end, they spent several hours in conversation at the table, deciding how they would proceed. Mrs. Sullivan came to take the boy back to his quarters.
Miss Whitchurch told the lady, “His lordship and I have decided the child’s name will be Ethan David Whitchurch. We will have him christened as soon as it might be arranged with the local parish.”
“A very fine name,” Mrs. Sullivan declared. “We shall begin to use it when speaking to the child, for it is important for the boy to learn his place in your lives. For what my opinion is worth, I approve.”
Benjamin assured her, “Your opinions are welcomed in this household, ma’am.”
With the woman’s exit, they continued to plan for a life together. Though Benjamin would have preferred an earlier date, as Graham predicted, Victoria insisted they would be seen as grieving properly for Ethan’s mother. “I should purchase material for a few mourning clothes, but I do not know where to begin. I suppose there are fabric houses…”
“Do not worry over it. I will ask Lady Orson to assist you,” he said. “You will also require other clothes for your time after your mourning period, and we should have you set up with your own accounts. Her ladyship has been quite helpful to Lord Marksman’s sister, Lady Annalise Dutton, who, like you, has taken on a new role in the Duncan family. Lady Orson also assisted Theodora. She is quite perfect for the task—the perfect hostess. Her father is an ambassador, and so she is accustomed to entertaining and the like. She is also perfect for my brother Richard, who holds aspirations in serving the government.”
“She is a countess!” Victoria exclaimed. “A countess will assist with my wardrobe?”
He reminded her with a grin, “As you will also be once we are married.”
“A countess!” She appeared stunned. “Me?”
“Lady Thompson.” His smile widened. “At least, I can be confident you did not choose me for my title.”
Later still, once they retired to the sitting room and tea, they continued their planning. Between them, they decided that she would continue to work for Sustar, at least for the immediate future, but she suggested that, in the meantime, they could explore the idea of establishing such workplaces as the one inside his house to be owned by him and scattered across Cheapside, each encouraging a variety of skills—sewing and embroidery, dress shops, metalwork, repairs for musical instruments, and a whole list of other possibilities.
“Could we travel to Kent for Cassandra’s burial?” she asked softly as their evening together was coming to an end. She had yawned several times.
“Assuredly. When all is set in Kent, I will arrange it.”
“And what of my parents?” she inquired while leaning forward, presenting him her whole attention.
“Would they wish to travel to Kent?” Benjamin asked with a lift ofhis brows in doubt.
“Not for Cassandra’s interment,” she corrected. “Those in the village would criticize them for condoning Cassandra’s choices.”
“They were also Mr. Betts’s choices,” he argued.
“The village depends on Lord Betts’s goodwill.” She spoke the obvious. “Instead, I assumed you might wish to speak to my father about my agreeing to marry you.”
“Ask his permission? I thought you were of age,” Benjamin responded.
“I am one and twenty, but I would still wish my father’s blessing,” she told him.
“If such is your wish, I will see to it, but it must be after your sister is laid to rest. You realize I will be away for multiple days if I must travel to Hampshire and back,” he warned. “Will you be well?”
“I have no obligations beyond Mr. Sustar’s work, the child, and whatever you deem necessary in becoming a part of your life,” she said.
“Should I make arrangements for different living quarters for you? Your reputation may suffer if you remain in your part of Macalhey House,” he warned.
“Shall the rumors have you changing your mind, my lord?” she challenged him.
“I never paid much attention to such criticisms,” he told her. “I am my own man.”
“Then we will remain close. I am not of the persuasion to be far from you ever again.”
Before Benjamin could take her in his arms once more, the bell rang. He frowned, “Who could that be?” He rose when he heard Patterson saying, “Welcome, my lord,” and Duncan’s response of, “I hope my son is still awake. I apologize for the lateness of the hour.”
Benjamin stepped into the hallway. “Has something ill happened to Marksman?”
“Nothing so ominous,” Duncan assured. “Yet, I have been considering what you shared today regarding my being shot and all the other coincidences you have noticed, but the rest of us have not, and I thought I was lacking in my gratitude for all you did for me during those critical hours following what occurred outside the Lyon’s Den.”
“There is no need…” Benjamin began, but Duncan overrode him. “Let us speak inside.”
