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“I’ll take the invitation happily enough.”
In Andrew Stanton, he had found a laid-back and amiable young man who shared his sister’s dark hair and blue eyes, paired with a quiet demeanor and a gaze that was wiser than he had expected. He was confident and well-bred, with soft hands that spoke of a life of luxury, and a strong grip that spoke of a man who knew his own worth, and he possessed rare common sense for his age and station. The time they spent speaking over tea and sandwiches was comfortable, and by the time he saw Andrew back to the Crawford home with his acceptance of the Earl’s invitation, he rather thought the young man would become a good friend in time.
* * *
Henrietta woke with a start and lay in bed a moment, gathering her composure.
Daniel would be coming today. Her father had informed her that he had sent an invitation for morning tea to the Marquess, and Andrew had told her that Daniel had accepted.
She saw to her toilette with the temporary lady’s maid who had replaced Sarah, fighting to keep her hands from shaking. Today would either mark the beginning of their courtship, or her father’s refusal to permit it.
She had only managed a bite or two of breakfast before adjoining to the front parlor to wait for Daniel’s arrival. Andrew was not there, but she knew he would likely turn up once Daniel arrived.
At precisely half-past ten, there was a knock on the door, and shortly thereafter, Daniel was ushered into the room. Her heart skipped a beat.
His crisp morning suit accented his figure well and suited his lean face and dark hair perfectly. His eyes flickered to her as he entered, and it was all she could do not to leap up and throw herself into his arms.
He greeted her father with a bow, her mother with a bow and a polite press if his lips to the back of her hand, and then came to stand before her. “Lady Henrietta.”
“Lord Salisbury.” She swept a curtsy, and he responded with a bow over her hand, and a lingering kiss to the back before moving back and taking the chair he was offered.
Daniel met both of her parents stare with his head up. “Lord and Lady Crawford...I presume you have questions.”
“I do indeed.” Her father clenched his hands on the arms of his chair. “You propose to one girl in a very public venue, and not a day later I receive notice that you wish to declare your intentions in regard to my daughter. Perhaps you understand why I doubt your sincerity, even if your first suit was indeed rejected by Baron Darnell’s daughter.”
“I do understand your reservations and your doubts. Nonetheless, I have the greatest affection for your daughter, and I would like to do honorably by her.”
“Then why propose to the Darnell girl?”
“I was...mistaken.” Daniel paused, as if considering his words. “Perhaps your daughter has informed you of how we came to develop feelings for each other?”
“She said she served as your model.”
Daniel nodded. “She did so. She did not give me her name, but rather another. In fairness, I might not have accepted her, had I known her identity. In any case, two days before the ball at Almack’s, I was informed of her real name, and I was also given to understand that her association with me was a matter of a wager in regard to whether or not she could see me married to a member of the ton. Specifically, Miss Darnell.”
Henrietta winced where she sat. The more she heard the words from others, the less and less she liked it. Heard from other viewpoints, it made her seem shallow and manipulative. No wonder Daniel had been so angry with her.
She listened as he continued. “That night at Almack’s, I was angry with what I perceived to be a betrayal, and I desired to make my position clear. Hence my actions in proposing to Miss Darnell. I wished to make it the most hollow victory possible, either by matching with her original intentions despite our connection and cutting ties, or by making it clear that her machinations had caused only unhappiness and causing her to lose her position as a matchmaker in vengeance.”
“And now?”
“The misunderstandings have been resolved between us, including those between myself and Miss Darnell.”
“And you are still angry?”
“I am not.” He shook his head. “Perhaps I am not the most observant of men. And perhaps I am more ignorant of society than is wise. But I am not a poor judge of character, nor of sincerity, I do not think. And I believe your daughter when she says she loves me.”
“Do you?”
“Of course. How could I doubt her, when she was willing to speak the words in the middle of such a prestigious event and give no thought to the cost?”
There was tenderness and warmth in his voice, and she longed to embrace him.
Her parents exchanged glances, and she thought that perhaps they might be softening the slightest bit.
“You speak of my daughter’s regard for you. But what of your regard for her?” Her mother’s eyes were grave.
“I would give all I have if I could have her hand in trade. She is peace, she is all-soothing. She is the inspiration that brings my art to its highest form. She is the happiness that will see me through learning the politics of society and the darkness of the nights. She is the laughter that chases the shadows away, everything I would wish for in a partner, and better by far than I ever dared to dream before she came into my life.”
