Page 5 of Snapdragons
He needed more time.
Chapter Two
Cornwall, one month later
“What do you mean he’snot here?”
Penelope Seymour didn’t need to ask the question out loud because her brother, Liam, did so first. They’d made the journey from Ireland to Cornwall so she could meet her betrothed and so he and Liam could sign the marriage agreement.
She had anticipated awkwardness between her and Mr. Niles Greenberry, hadplannedon it. She had bolstered herself to endure discomfort and hesitation. She had spent some time rehearsing in front of her obliging mirror a few responses to questions she thought her soon-to-be husband might ask, including why it was that her mother hadn’t bothered to make the journey. She’d even practiced keeping her expression neutral so she’d keep hidden all indications of pain and rejection.
She’d not made plans for the possibility that her betrothed would be absent entirely.
Mr. Greenberry’s father, who had been introduced to her as Mr. David Greenberry, not to be confused with the multiple other Messrs. Greenberry in the area, offered a quick explanation. “Niles made an unexpected journey to the home of a friend almost a month ago with every intention of returning before your arrival. We expected him back days ago.”
“Inclement weather, perhaps?” Liam asked.
Mrs. Greenberry offered a small shrug. “That is a possibility.”
But, Penelope would wager, based on the hesitancy she saw, the lady didn’t actually thinkweatherhad delayed her son’s return.
“He will, no doubt, rush into the house while we are all at supper, embarrassed at his tardiness and explaining the... carriage difficulties he had or something of that nature.”The missing groom’s father didn’t seem to fully believe the explanation he was suggesting either.
Penelope was admittedly nervous about marrying a stranger, but she’d not ever considered the possibility of running away. Had Mr. Niles Greenberry done precisely that? Surely not.
“Is the Royal Mail so dawdly here that a letter of explanation couldn’t have reached you since the time he was meant to have left his friend’s home?” Penelope asked, searching about for some kind of clarity.
Her future in-laws exchanged uncomfortable glances. ’Twas answer enough, really. The missing Mr. Greenberry would have sent a letter, either from the home of his friend or from a roadside inn, if his travels had gone awry, and that letter would have arrived by now.
He’d piked off.
This was not going at all the way Penelope had anticipated. She had a groom who was nowhere to be found. Now what was she to do?
“We are to dine tonight at Ipsworth with my parents,” Mr. Greenberry said. “Please rest from your travels until then.”
There was a hint of desperation in the invitation and a look of worry lurking in the gentleman’s eyes. Did he think Penelope meant to run off as well? She was made of sterner stuff than that.
They were shown to the adjacent guest chambers, where they were to spend their time in Cornwall before the wedding.
Mere moments after being left there by the housekeeper, Liam joined Penelope.
He eyed her with palpable misgiving. “Now what do we do?”
“Dress for supper, I suppose.”
“Do be serious, Penelope.” He dropped into a chair near the fireplace. The poor man looked defeated already. “We’ve come all this way after so many months of correspondence, and Mr. Niles Greenberry couldn’t even be bothered to be here.”
“I’d not assume his absence is a matter of indifference.”
Liam shrugged and nodded in unison. “A gentleman will most certainly have an opinion on the matter of his impending marriage.”
What, then, was her betrothed’s opinion?
“Mr.RobertGreenberry didn’t give you any indication that his grandson was opposed to the match?” she asked, referring to the family patriarch, whose house they were eating at that evening.
The grandfather of her intended had undertaken all the discussions and negotiations. That had seemed odd at first. She’d worried that Mr. Niles Greenberry was weak or simple or lazy or... A great many concerning possibilities had occurred to her. But after a few letters, the inner workings of the Greenberry family had grown clearer.
Each generation appeared to defer to the one before. It almost felt like a little kingdom nestled away in Cornwall. The eldest Mr. Greenberry was the king. Even a monarch’s own grandchildren deferred to him without that being an inarguable indication of moral or intellectual weakness. Of course, it could be both. A prince could be deferentialandfeeble, obedientandspoiled.
