“Then my work here is done,” Caleb said as he performed an exaggerated bow.
After he exited the dining room, he walked towards the study that was in the rear of the townhouse. He stepped into the room and saw his father and Lord Hungerton already had a glass of port in their hands.
“It is about time you showed up,” his father teased as he went to sit on the settee that faced the hearth.
Lord Hungerton looked at Caleb with a solemn expression. “What exactly are your intentions towards my daughter, Mr. Bolingbroke?”
Caleb knew this question was coming, but he was no more prepared for it. He needed to proceed cautiously or else he would risk stoking the baron’s anger.
“I have immense respect for your daughter, but I am not interested in getting married at this time,” he replied.
Displeasure marred Lord Hungerton’s expression as his brow furrowed. “Is my daughter not good enough for you?”
With a shake of his head, Caleb replied, “That is not what I meant.”
“But that is what you said.”
“No, I merely said I was not ready to marry,” Caleb argued.
Lord Hungerton tossed back his glass of port before hegrumbled, “Her dowry is fifteen thousand pounds and I still can’t marry her off.”
His father held up his drink. “She is only in her third Season. Give her time, and she might surprise you.”
Lord Hungerton huffed. “I doubt it. She is rather dull.”
Caleb looked at him in disbelief. “You believe your daughter to be dull?” he asked.
“Is that why you aren’t interested in her?” Lord Hungerton asked. “All she does is sit around our townhouse and practice her needlework with her companion. I try to encourage her to go call upon people and I am met with resistance.”
Lord Hungerton dropped down on the settee and continued. “I blame her mother,” he said. “Rebecca filled her head with nonsensical nonsense when Simone was younger and now she isn’t here to guide her.”
“It is hardly Lady Hungerton’s fault that she died,” his father remarked.
“I should have taken more interest in Simone’s upbringing,” Lord Hungerton said. “Perhaps if I had, she would already have taken a suitor.”
Caleb worked hard to keep the annoyance off his features. It did not sit well with him that Lord Hungerton was criticizing his daughter, especially since he was wrong to do so. Simone was nothing like how he described.
“I might just have to pay someone to take her off my hands,” Lord Hungerton declared.
Caleb walked over to the drink cart and picked up the decanter. As he poured himself a drink, he asked, “Do you truly think Miss Delacourt would go along with an arranged marriage?”
“Not at first, but she will do as I tell her,” Lord Hungerton replied. “Although, she has this absurd notion that she can live on her own.”
“Why is it madness?” Caleb asked.
Lord Hungerton looked at him as if he were a simpleton. “Simone hardly leaves the townhouse. How could she possibly care for herself? She is just a weak, defenseless woman and someone would take advantage of that.”
Caleb gripped the glass tightly in his hand. He wanted to correct Lord Hungerton’s perception of Simone, but he knew it was not his place to do so. He just did not like the way the baron was disrespecting his daughter.
His father leaned forward and placed his glass onto the table. “I used to worry about Anette, but she found a fine match in Roswell. Sometimes we must give our children the space they need to find themselves.”
“Your daughter does have some unique views,” Lord Hungerton commented.
His father’s voice filled with pride as he stated, “I raised her to have a voice, and I am pleased that Roswell is encouraging her to use it.”
“My wife was similar, and I do miss having riveting conversations with her,” Lord Hungerton shared. “Heaven knows I can’t have those same conversations with Simone.”
Caleb went to sit down on an upholstered armchair. “I do think Miss Delacourt would surprise you, given the chance.”
