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“I hope you do not have any plans for this evening,” she said. “My friends, the Earl and Countess of Kinswood, and their daughter, Lady Viola, are joining us for dinner.”
Andrew held his breath to refrain from sighing heavily. He knew his mother loved social events, especially those that took place during the London Season. And he did not, in fact, have any plans.
He had made a point of avoiding speaking with anyone who might lead to him having to make plans. Still, he hated it when his mother sprang such things upon him at short notice, probably to make it impossible for him to refuse to attend.
He managed to force a smile and raise his eyebrows casually to feign interest.
“This dinner wouldn’t happen to be an attempt to play matchmaker between Lady Viola and me, would it?” he asked as lightheartedly as he could.
His mother was unamused. She frowned and shook her head.
“What a ridiculous idea, Andrew,” she said. “At any rate, holding such a dinner cannot be anything but beneficial to us. I do not need to remind you that the family’s bloodline rests solely on your shoulders.”
At this, Andrew laughed sincerely, if a bit dryly. He noted she didn’t directly answer his question. There was little chance she would tell him if matchmaking was her intention, even though they both knew well that it almost certainly was. He looked at his mother and shook his head in bemusement.
“And I do not need to remind you that I am not your only son,” he said. “Thus, it doesnotrest solely on my shoulders to continue our family line.”
The dowager baroness sighed with obvious exasperation.
“You cannot rely on Jacob,” she said. “He still has many years to go before he can even consider settling down.”
Andrew murmured noncommittally, though he did not see his mother’s point. Jacob was away touring Italy, and, though he was a few years younger than Andrew, it would be quite some time before he would return home and prepare to seek a wife. Indeed, he might very well have already met a young lady before leaving England and plan to marry her when he returned.
“I think you have too little faith in Jacob,” he said. “He is a very capable and level-headed man. Surely, more so than me.”
The baroness frowned again and shook her head, rising to her feet.
“It is not he who bears the title of baron,” she said. “Nor is it his birthright. Truly, you are just as stubborn as your father was.”
Andrew tried not to shudder at the thought of being anything like his father. The late baron’s poor example as a husband and father was the very reason why Andrew did not wish to marry and produce heirs.
It was a conversation he’d had many times with Lady Elsbrook, and one she always seemed eager to forget the minute it had concluded. He was just about to open the discussion once more when the dowager baroness suddenly thrust a sheet of paper at him.
“At least consider the marriage mart,” she said, her tone simultaneously sharp and resigned.
As soon as Andrew took the paper from her, his mother turned on her heel and left the room. Andrew couldn’t help smiling in bemusement. He didn’t enjoy upsetting his mother. Even though she was very prim and proper, he loved her. But she was so strict about adhering to the traditions of thetonthat she often worked herself up into a frenzy at the idea of doing anything differently.
But when he looked down at the paper, his smile melted. It was a list of names, and Andrew quickly realized they belonged solely to women. More accurately, they were the names of young, unmarried women of theton! He read it again to be sure his eyes weren’t still asleep. But there they were on the paper, and he shook his head and sighed in exasperation.
She is nothing if not tenacious,he thought bitterly as he tucked the paper haphazardly into his coat pocket. Then, eager to avoid his mother for the rest of the day, he locked himself in his study. There was plenty of work to do, but he had no interest in any of it. He sat facing the wall behind his desk, sipping brandy, and thinking of his childhood.
He had, as a young man, fancied the idea of marrying a good woman and having a family with her. But as the years had passed, and he had seen the example his father set for his son in his roles as man, husband, and father, he wanted less and less to do with the notion.
He had been taught to prepare for the eventuality of having his own family, principally, of course, to produce an heir. But now he was faced with the reality of being forced to take on the shackles of marriage, he loathed the idea. Why couldn’t he simply hand over the mantle to Jacob if he wished? He had half hoped his brother would marry first, so he could hand over the family title and fortune to Jacob with reasonable hope that his mother wouldn’t object. Now, he would never get that chance.
At some point, he must have fallen asleep. The next thing he knew, the clock on the mantel chimed three in the afternoon, startling him awake.
He rubbed his eyes, noticing with relief that he hadn’t spilled any of the brandy still in the glass he had apparently fallen asleep holding. He finished it quickly and put away the glass, then rose from the desk. It was time to begin getting ready for his mother’s dinner party. With a groan, he left his study and trudged his way up to his bedchambers.
“Your bath is almost ready, sir,” Wallace, his valet , told him as Andrew entered his rooms a few moments later.
“Thank you, Wallace,” Andrew sighed, pulling off his cravat irritably and throwing it over the back of a chair. The coat joined it seconds later. He kicked off his shoes. More cans of hot water were brought up by footmen from below, and soon Andrew was wallowing in the tub, wishing he could stay there for the evening. He leaned back and allowed Wallace to shave him before getting out and drying off.
While Wallace moved calmly to and fro about his business, Andrew sat down on the bed and said, “I suppose I’d better make the best of this brief respite. It’ll be the only peace I’ll probably get for the rest of the evening.”
“Well, sir, I’m sorry to hear you say that. Perhaps it would lighten your spirits to hear that cook has prepared an excellent joint of beef for tonight, with plenty of horseradish sauce? I know that’s your favorite.”
“Hmmm,” Andrew murmured, getting up again so that Wallace could help him into a clean shirt. He rubbed his chin and cracked a half smile. “That certainly is good news, and I heartily thank you for it, Wallace. Unfortunately, I shall be forced to share it with the guests, whose company will doubtless kill my appetite anyway. And, of course, Lady Elwood has ensured a young, unmarried lady is among them.”
