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“I do remember this,” said Edward. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but it is not exactly an unpopular sentiment. My own father used to grumble much the same thing.”
A twinkle came to Christopher’s eye. “Perhaps you were so busy remembering that you never bothered to listen to my father, then. That wasn’t the end of it. ‘No amount of money can buy good breeding,’ he would say, then add, ‘…but men’s forgetfulness can be purchased at a bargain!’”
Christopher lost himself in laughter for a moment. “Mother did so hate it when Father said that, but he would always have a jolly good laugh at it. I never knew quite what he meant until today.”
Seeing the confusion on his guardian’s face, Christopher clapped his hands together with great enthusiasm. “Clara may be an illegitimate daughter, Edward, but she is a wealthy one! I confess I do not understand these matters as well as you think I should, but even to me she is obviously wealthy enough to overcome any real talk of social standing.”
Edward cocked his head. “How do you…?”
“I spoke with Mr Finch when all this first happened,” said Christopher. “He explained to me just what Clara’s inheritance amounted to. He also told me that any man from any class in society, right up to a Duke, would be only too pleased to marry her. Surely you do not consider yourself to be too good for a wife who would please a Duke?”
The ticking of the grandfather clock counted away the seconds in which Edward was unable to summon an answer to this query. Have I been so absorbed in my own self-importance, he thought with a start, that I have merely imagined my romantic exploits would be so very taboo? For God’s sake, the king’s own sister usurped the throne of Denmark not so long ago! Perhaps social status is not the obstacle I thought it might be…?
Then he remembered the major barrier to pursuing Clara that had drifted from his mind.
“What of my parents, though?” Edward asked with a sour expression. “I am sure they would not approve of my marrying a maid, either.”
“Putting aside the point of money—which I really do not think should be done, Edward, as my father was a very wise man,” said Christopher with a jocular bob of his head, “have you actually spoken to your parents about this matter? Or have you rejected yourself out of hand without even asking?”
Again Edward felt the ground shake beneath him. He vaguely recalled similar charges being levelled against him by his friend Jonathan at one point, though he had hardly been receptive to the criticism at the time.
“I…well…”
“Mr Morton, surely you cannot have been such a self-defeating fool as to not have even written your parents to ask their opinion on the matter?” Christopher asked in disbelief.
“But…” Edward tried again, desperately, “this concerns more than just two people. What of the social scandal? Surely that will reflect poorly on you, Your Grace?”
Christopher scoffed. “I cannot see why I would mind. An illegitimate sister may have brought momentary scorn on the house, and I imagine a surreptitious affair with the family guardian might provoke a few whispers. But it also establishes a pattern, one that shall make the ton look on me much more kindly no matter how I live my life. Unless I do something profoundly outrageous like becoming a Catholic, I have the opportunity to be the Duke who restores honour to my house without much effort at all on my part.”
With his eyes protruding from his head in amazement, Edward muttered, “That is…a surprisingly insightful perspective, Your Grace. Very insightful, I mean.”
“I know you do not allow me to go to many of the balls or other social affairs, Edward, but even I understand this basic rule of social dynamics. You and Clara shall survive the rumours, and the St. George house will be all the stronger after you are married.”
“But your sisters—”
“If you do not make a secret of your affair, they will not have any power over you,” said Christopher with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Announce your engagement and they will have no cards left to play. Helena and Judith will always find something terrible to say or do, regardless of how you live your life, Edward. I have resolved not to let their bitterness ruin my future, and I suggest you do the same.”
Clearly he has been schooled in these matters far better than I had realized, thought Edward. Then his breath caught in his throat; he was afraid to believe the young man’s words, the prospect of what he was suggesting seeming almost too wonderful to dare consider.
Could he be right? Is there really a simple solution to this problem? One that could mean happiness for both Clara and me without upsetting Christopher’s life in any meaningful way?
Even to one as stubborn and joyless as Edward, the answer was obvious.
Edward breathed out an exasperated sigh. “Christopher, forgive me, but it has been some years since my studies, and I could use a bit of a reminder. Is it always this tiresome to be lectured to?”
Christopher nodded and broke into a boyish grin. “Absolutely.”
“Even when your teacher so obviously has the right of it?”
“Especially then.”
The guardian rested an avuncular hand on the Duke’s shoulder. “Your Grace, I hope you know that you have taught me as much as I’ve ever taught you. Your father would be exceedingly proud of you, and every day I grow more convinced you will grow to be twice the Duke he was.”
Christopher rested his hand atop Edward’s. “Thank you, Edward. Now…does this mean we can get back to mathematics at last?”
The two broke into a warm bout of laughter that rang from the walls of the study. The room had not seen jollity like that in many months, and it seemed to breathe life into the St. George estate bricks as much as it did the souls within.
