Page 3 of Snapdragons
“Don’t tell me Harrow had people like Baker,” Lord Jonquil said.
“Everywherehas people like Baker.”
Stanley snatched up his abandoned book. “I’ve learned a lot about you in the past months, but I didn’t realize you play cricket.” He motioned with his head for Niles to walk alongside them. “I don’t think anyone knew until today that you brawl like a bruiser. But it doesn’t surprise me that you jump to the defense of people’s sisters. That is precisely the sort of person I was sure you were.”
“You’ve taken that much notice of me?” No one ever did.
“I have.Wehave. The Gents have wondered if you’d eventually consider joining us.”
Niles nodded, unable to find the words he’d formulated in his mind when he’d imagined making a petition for membership.
“I was certain you would when you were ready,” Stanley said. “But I meant what I said: no underlings, no subordinates. When you join this group, you become one of us, wholly andcompletely and on equal footing.”
Niles swallowed. “I’d like that.”
“Which leaves only one question,” Stanley said.
“What question?” Niles asked.
In unison, Stanley and Lord Jonquil asked, “Do you speak French?”
“Oui, je parle français.”
They exchanged smiles of acknowledgment.
“Well then, Niles Greenberry”—Stanley shook his hand—“welcome to the Gents.”
Lord Jonquil shook his other hand. “I hope you’re ready for an adventure.”
Niles grinned at them both. “Always.”
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Cornwall, Autumn 1787 (thirteen years later)
Niles had known since he was a child that a marriage would eventually be arranged for him. The Greenberrys believed in curated courtships the way other families embraced religion or politics. It was woven into the fabric of who they were. But Niles wanted nothing to do with any of it.
Grandfather had already made matches for Niles’s older brother, two younger sisters, and every cousin of marriageable age. He had avoided this reckoning for as long as he had, thanks to the tireless efforts and persuasive abilities of the best friend he’d ever known. It was more than just a shame that they’d lost Stanley so young; it was an unmitigated tragedy.
“Mrs. Seymour is known to be quite the most fashionable lady in Dublin society.” Mother stood beside the tailor, whose shop they were at in Plymouth Dock. Niles was to have a new wardrobe, as Grandfather didn’t wish the Seymours to have a poor first impression of the Greenberrys.
“DoesMissSeymour have an opinion on such things?” Nilesasked, looking over the lengths of silk and satin the tailor was considering. Putting a fashionable foot forward wasn’t a terrible thing now and then, but Niles generally preferred being comfortable to being modish.
“I am not at all acquainted with her feelings on the matter.”
He had received some variation of that answer whenever he’d inquired about the lady who had been chosen to be his wife. Her family was important and influential and in favor of the match, and that was all Niles seemed destined to know about Miss Penelope Seymour.
Mother added two waistcoats to the order, and the tailor scratched her instructions into a small book before rushing into a back room to fetch buttons for Mother to peruse.
“If we undertook this during the next Season in London, Digby would be more than happy to assist,” Niles said. “I’d be so fashionable, it would be painful.”
His mother smiled a little sadly and a lot consolingly. “Your grandparents would never hear of the delay. You’ve already been granted more time than your siblings or cousins. And we’ve managed to delay things for three months now.” She set her hand on his arm, giving it a light squeeze. “You cannot possibly avoid this forever.”
“But I don’t wish to be married. And the only circumstances under which I could imagine that changing are those in which the person I am marrying very much wishes to be marriedto meand I to her. Specifically. Because wechoseeach other.”
“That simply doesn’t happen, dear.” She watched him with a little too much pity, something he’d cringed at again and again the past months. Mother was a wonderful woman and the best mother he could imagine, but she did sometimes treat him a little too much like a child despite his being thirty years old. “Marriages aren’t a matter of romantic connections in our family, or on our rung of Society.”
“Two of the Gents married by choice rather than by arrangement,” Niles said.
