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“Never.”
“Then we will not seek his consent. There are places where we can be married without the permission of your family. Hundreds do it every year.”
“Elope?” Rebecca said in a whisper.
She sounded shocked.
“If it is the only way for us to be together. I would rather have your hand openly and be celebrated for our love by our families. But if that is not possible, then I will have you any way I can,” Lucius said firmly.
“Edward would kill you,” Rebecca said. “I will not put you at risk like that.”
Lucius gritted his teeth. Once again, Edward Bolton stood between them. Unwilling to give consent and zealously guarding his sister. So that he might marry her off to some crony who attended the same club. A marriage that would serve Edward and the husband but would break Rebecca’s heart. He would not allow it to happen. Could not allow it. No matter what, he and Rebecca would be married. And if that meant confronting the Duke of Wrexham head-on, then so be it.
CHAPTER 7
Wrexham Manor Invitational Ball
March 1814
Harriet had to admit, the ball was dream-like and spectacular. Wrexham Manor had been lit from the outside by torches within iron braziers shaped like candles. Inside, the entrance hall glittered beneath the star-like light of the chandeliers. Mirrors had been hung along the walls which reflected the light and magnified it. Immaculately clad servants moved among the guests, bearing silver trays of food and drink.
The guests themselves were further bright jewels among the finery. Harriet wore a gown of pale blue and yellow, her favorite colors. She wore her hair up, alongside a pearl necklace with matching earrings, a gift from her mother on her debut. They were the only jewelry she owned but they had always been all that she wanted. Seeing the festooned ladies around her now, she found herself wishing that she had more.
The Dowager Countess Lauren Worthingham, Harriet’s mother, presided over a court of her own in one part of the room. She acknowledged Harriet with a gracious wave. Harriet’s looks came from her mother’s side of the family, the same side that Simon and Eleanor came from. She had hair that still retained its golden hue, like they did. At some point in the evening, Harriet would have to pay homage to her mother’s court. It would make her feel under-dressed, almost scruffy by comparison.
The Dowager Countess did not live at Erdington Manor, claiming in rather dramatic style that it would kill her to see her house occupied by another. All of Simon’s protestations, that she and Harriet could consider the house their own for as long as they wished, fell on deaf ears. So, Lauren had taken up residence in the old gatekeeper's lodge on the edge of park. The lodge had been sold off as one of Simon’s first economies upon his inheritance.
The Dowager Countess had then rented it from the near owner on the understanding that a share of the rent go to the new Earl of Erdington. That had been Harriet’s suggestion. Her mother was blithely unaware of the financial struggles that her family was enduring. As, it seemed, was Eleanor. At least it seemed that way based on the expenses she seemed to have taken up. She wore a glittering array of jewels and had a new dress of white and gold. She looked regal and, Harriet noticed, drew the eyes of several men.
“Why do you give in to her so?” she whispered to Simon. “Surely we cannot afford those jewels, let alone the dress?”
Simon smiled, looking around the room, then bent his head to Harriet.
“The jewels are rented, as is the dress. She knows neither. I know I don’t have to tell you that you must not say anything to her, cousin.”
“Of course not.”
Rose would have saved that fact for an angry exchange later, a dagger that could be thrust into an argument at just the right moment. Harriet, however, had no desire to hurt anyone, even someone as disagreeable as her young cousin.
“I will catch hell when she eventually finds out but I am considering it an investment. If Eleanor can find a husband here, then she will be well placed to be of help to her family. Even the promise of marriage into a wealthy family may be enough to keep the bankers off my back.”
“I certainly do not envy you,” Harriet said sympathetically.
“I’m only sorry my funds could not extend to the same for you. I would if I could.”
Harriet looked at him. He looked and sounded earnest, face sorrowful that he had not been able to acquire jewels and clothes for Harriet. She put a hand to his arm and smiled reassuringly.
“I do not need it,” she said.
There was a moment as they looked at each other and Harriet’s words landed in both their ears. Then, as one, they both burst into laughter.
“Oh, good Lord. I did not mean it that way at all,” Harriet said, blushing.
“That is the kind of sentiment I would expect from Eleanor. But I must not be uncharitable. She is my sister after all. However, I think your thought was entirely correct. You do not need any of it to be beautiful.”
Harriet giggled, still thinking humorously. Then she realized that Simon was not laughing. She glanced at him and saw a curiously intent expression on his face. His words had been said in all seriousness. Harriet felt suddenly uncomfortable. Simon was a good friend and a good man. While he was her cousin, the relationship was distant. But, she did not consider him a man that she could marry. He was like a brother to her and had thought that he felt the same. It seemed that might not have been the case.
Nonsense. He cannot see me as anything other than a cousin and a friend. Anything else would be absurd.
