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Lord D. Thynne,
Marquess of Salisbury
He sealed that letter as well, then tucked it into a breast pocket. He would not have it delivered until after he had heard back from the Darnell family.
He made a brief visit to see how the restoration and airing out of the townhouse went, then another to his London business manager and accountant to ensure that his business interests were faring well.
There was a letter awaiting him when he returned. He took it to his rooms and broke the seal.
To the Marquess of Salisbury,
I give greetings. You will forgive me, I hope, that I do not extend much by way of courtesies beyond my greetings and a wish for your continued health.
Your apology is accepted, though I will tell you in seriousness that you would have had a far different reply had not my daughter spoken to me last night and informed me that she had dismissed your proposal for her own reasons. She is satisfied, and in no worse position socially or in terms of her health or good spirits, and so I shall let the matter rest there.
You have been absent from London for some time, and I do understand that soldiers live a much different life, and that your upbringing may not have prepared you for the politics and policies of London high society. For that reason, I shall extend no challenge nor censure for the discourteous behavior of last evening.
Be warned, however, that should such rudeness be repeated, I shall take it as insult rather than ignorance, and there will be a reckoning.
Respectfully,
Baron Darnell
The letter was curt, and in other circumstances would have been more than a little insulting. But the censure was deserved, and he was less insulted by the man’s words, than he was relieved that there would be no repercussions on that front. He would doubtless meet a cool welcome from Baron Darnell when they encountered each other in social events, but it was a small price to pay.
He folded the letter and put it away, then went to send his letter to the Stantons.
He hoped for a prompt response, but by the time evening fell, there had been no reply.
Neither was there a reply the following day, or the day following that. He was nearly ready to present himself at their door, invitation or no, when Jackson’s butler informed him of a visitor waiting in the front parlor for him. Curious, he dismissed the man and made his way to the room in question.
Inside the front parlor, he found a young man, far too young to be the Earl. Bright, remarkably familiar blue eyes met his, and the young man gave a crisp bow. “The Marquess of Salisbury, I presume.”
“I am indeed. And you are?”
“Andrew Stanton, my lord, Heir Crawford if you want to be formal about it, though I shan’t insist on it.” The young man straightened and flashed him a quick, boyish grin. “Officially, I’ve come with a message for you from my lord father.” The smile widened. “And unofficially, I’ve brought you another missive as well.” He produced two letters with a flourish.
Daniel took them both, gesturing the young man to a seat as he broke open the seal on the first.
The letter was from Henrietta, telling him of her conversation with her parents and her current circumstances. She also included a slightly distraught paragraph regarding the dismissal of two servants, John and Sarah Thistle, and the reasons for their dismissal—namely, that they had been complicit in her visits to his estate.
He made note of that and resolved to see if there was something he might do for the couple. Improper their actions might have been, but he was in debt to them for facilitating his relationship to Henrietta.
The other letter was a terse missive from the Earl of Crawford, inviting him to mid-morning tea the following day, to discuss ‘matters of mutual interest’.
He lifted his gaze to the Heir Crawford, who was sipping the tea that a servant had brought in, all unnoticed. “Do I need to send a written reply?”
“Not at all. I’m to take your reply, verbal or written as you like, and deliver it to father.”
He considered that statement. “It is not usual for a member of the peerage to be delivering letters and messages.”
“That it isn’t. But it’s meant to be a bit of a punishment to me, I think. I’ve known what Henrietta was about for some days, and I never did tell father or mother that she was sneaking out to visit an unmarried gentleman instead of going to the shops or walking about town.” The young man smiled cheerfully. “Not that I mind. I did rather want to meet you.”
“Indeed. And your opinion?” He recalled that Henrietta had mentioned her brother knowing of her activities, but he had not had a chance to act on the knowledge.
“Haven’t the faintest, as of yet. I hardly know you, except by way of Henrietta’s descriptions, and they’re a bit colored by her feelings.” Andrew Stanton watched him with a casual expression, but there was something watchful in his posture that told Daniel this was no foppish, callow youth.
“Then perhaps you might join me for some idle amusement this afternoon, that we may know each other better? You may take the report back to your father with my reply.”
