Gerard smiled. “I am sure that you will have the opportunity to try to bring us together before the Season ends.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” the Dowager asked, her eyes twinkling. “I am certain that her family will have no objections to such a match, the Duke of Grant inclusive.”
The Earl of Ridlington grinned. “I shall like to see what grand scheme you have set to play on this matter.”
The Dowager sighed. “All I want is for you to be happy, Gerard.”
“I know. But I am happy already, Grandmother. I am perfectly content the way I am right now.”
“Did you think about them tonight?” the Dowager asked.
Gerard wore a pensive look. “Only a little.”
“Has it gotten better?”
Gerard sighed. Trust his grandmother to pick up on the slightest change in moods.
“I am fine, Grandmother. You need not worry about me all the time,” he replied and looked away. His relationship with his parents before they both passed was strained.
It hurt that they sent him away to live with his grandmother as a boy because he was so sickly while they tried to breed another heir who would become Earl of Ridlington. They hadn’t expected him to survive, and his mother had died before she could provide his father with the heir he needed. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, however. And when his mother died of a complication, his father followed a few years after, dying of a broken heart.Neither of them cared about the son they left behind.
In many ways, Gerard blamed himself for the death of his parents. If he had been stronger, they would not have felt the intense pressure to keep the bloodline running.
“It is not your fault, Gerard,” his grandmother said, noting his thoughts. But no matter how many times she tried to convince him, it never did sink in.
“I know that, Grandmother. I know it, I just don’t believe it,” he said.
Turning his face to watch the passing buildings as the coach rambled along, Gerard wondered what Ellen Bamber’s story was. The whole of London knew about the late Duke of Grant and his reputation for being as rakish as they came. It wasn’t unusual for a man of his standing to have a paramour or two, but the late Duke had flaunted his mistresses unashamedly. The story had caused quite a stir, and thetonhalf expected that the Dowager would leave the Duke. But the gossips claimed Selina Bamber had an even icier heart than the Duke’s.
It came as no surprise then that Ellen had grown the way she did, burdened into submission. Still, she clearly had an iron will that intrigued him.
Perhaps I may venture to set my cap at—No, it would not do any good to forgo his vow. He would not put another lady through what his mother suffered. Ellen deserved more than that.
“Someday you will. Someday you will find someone worth fighting your resolve for, and you will ask for her hand in marriage, give me the heirs I so desperately seek, and live happily ever after.”
Gerard grinned slowly. “You don’t mean to tell me that you believe in love now, Grandmother.”
“Oh, dear child! I do. Always have, always will.”
“I see, then, that we have found something we don’t agree on,” Gerard mused.
* * *
It was as though Lancelot, Gerard’s valet, knew what his master needed that morning. When the Earl of Ridlington arrived at the stables, he found to his delight, that his favorite horse had already been groomed and saddled for a ride.
They had arrived at the Ridlington Manor which lay just outside London in the wee hours, and he had gone straight to his chamber to rest ahead for the morrow’s activities. When he woke up, his bath was prepared, and breakfast already lay on the table. He made a mental note to thank the valet later.
Gerard walked up to the stable boy who was now holding the reins.
“G’murnug, Mi Lord.”
“Good morning, Henry. It is an excellent morning, is it not?”
“It sure is, Mi Lord,” Henry replied.
“Have a good morning, Henry, I am off to the village.”
“You take care, Mi Lord.”
