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Chapter Thirteen
Wexford Manor stood proudly in the middle of a lush green lawn, a true example of Elizabethan style. Michael had visited Wexford Manor once or twice as a boy with his father to call upon the previous owner. The manor had sat empty for many years before Mr. Weller purchased it, though one could not tell upon approaching it.
“To think my sweet Johanna might be the mistress of such a grand house,” Lydia whispered, watching intently out the carriage window.
After her outburst, Michael could not fathom how to respond to Lydia. He started to speak several times, but each time he immediately bit off his words, realizing they were inappropriate. As the quiet grew in the carriage, he thought he had lost his opportunity to smooth her feelings and draw her back into his embrace. Instead, he took the approach to merely take her hand in his, chastely. She let him, wrapping her dainty fingers around the palm of his hand. By the time they arrived at Wexford, she had leaned back against him. He could feel her fury waning but dared not press her again.
“Have you met Mr. Weller before?” Lydia asked him, breaking the tension between them with a change of subjects.
“Only in passing by the Assembly last week,” he said. In truth, he hardly remembered what the man looked like. “But I told him that I would call upon him as a neighbor.”
“I do wish I knew whether Johanna had given her answer.”
“Then we shall ask today. I do not think it’ll be untoward to discuss the matter unless she has outright rejected him.”
Lydia laughed. “I cannot imagine that she would, given the way she looked at him. The only reason I could guess is if my uncle thought it was not an appropriate match.”
The carriage stopped at the front steps and the butler conducted them into the parlor. Taking a seat on the same couch, they did not wait long before Mr. Weller joined them.
“Your Grace, so kind of you to call upon me. My lady, a pleasure to see you again,” he said, bowing to them.
Michael took a seat again and the rest of them followed suit. Mr. Weller looked as though he could hardly sit still, sitting on the edge of the seat of the sofa, yet he could not keep a smile from his face. Lydia took a liking to him immediately for the charming happiness that he exuded.
“How are you settling into Wexford, Mr. Weller?” Michael asked. “I apologize for not calling upon you sooner, but it seems just as soon as you took the manor, you were already in London for the Season.”
“The manor is delightful,” he grinned. “But of course, you are right. Having found a suitable home, I endeavored to find a suitable wife this summer. I was quite pleased to make the acquaintance of Lady Johanna. In fact, I’ve only just returned to gather a few documents before returning back to London.”
“Has my sister accepted your proposal then?” Lydia asked, leaping at the chance to hear the news. “I apologize, I’ve been away for a few days and have not heard the news personally.”
“Oh! Yes, indeed,” Mr. Weller replied radiantly. “Yes, she accepted and has made me very happy. She is most assuredly the sweetest young lady I have ever met.”
“And an excellent judge of character,” she added. “She has always had the ability to see straight into people’s hearts. For you to have earned her affection, I am already endeared to you.”
“I must congratulate you on your engagement, as well,” Mr. Weller added. “I never got to properly wish you well. Have you set a date for the ceremony?”
“We are looking after the end of the Season,” Michael answered easily. He did not feel too out of line to lie to perpetuate their charade. After all, if they were to marry, they would be looking for an end of the Season marriage. “However, I could not part from her for too long and therefore she is visiting Marigold.”
“Do you have a date in mind for your ceremony?” Lydia asked, turning the topic back on to Mr. Weller.
He did not mind, beaming in his joy. “I asked my lady what she preferred. We’ll have the banns read here, so it’ll be just another three weeks, just at the end of the Season.”
“You two must be looking forward to it so eagerly,” she said, smiling.
Michael, on the other hand, could not fathom the joy that he saw on Mr. Weller’s face, who had not stopped grinning since they had entered the room. The fact that he was eager to marry in just a few short weeks also boggled his mind. Despite how much he had enjoyed Lydia’s company, the thought of being engaged to her terrified him, even if it was a lie.
“Where do you plan to honeymoon?” Michael asked, trying to subdue his own feelings towards matrimony and maintain pleasant conversation.
“I had thought we would go up to the North of England,” he responded. “My family has a retreat up there. I thought that we would have the rest of our lives to live here in Wexford, it might be a great opportunity for Johanna to see more of the country.”
“That sounds perfect for her,” Lydia agreed. “She has always enjoyed the quieter settings.”
“She is such a timid creature, isn’t she?” Mr. Weller noted. He leaned forward. “Tell me, what draws her out? What could I do to make sure she’s quite comfortable?”
“You have already found favor with her,” she assured him. “Which tells me that you’ve been gentle in your approach with her. Just keep that up. She will thrive as she learns to trust you, just do not press her too quickly or adamantly. Despite her timidness, she will dig in her heels if she feels threatened.”
He pondered a moment. “Yes, thank you. I will keep your advice in mind, definitely.”
Growing uncomfortable with the conversation, Michael broke in, asking, “Mr. Weller, what condition did you find Wexford when you took it on? Was it quite neglected?”
