Page 6 of Snapdragons
“If the eldest Mr. Greenberry had given any indication that his grandson had the least objection,” Liam said, “thenIwould have had hesitation myself.”
Where, then, was the grandson?
“ThemiddleMr. Greenberry didn’t seem to truly believe his son was simply late.”
Liam’s brow creased in that way it always did when pondering something he found overwhelming. “Suppose the absent Mr. Greenberry doesn’t return?”
Penelope wasn’t nearly as ready to admit defeat as Liam seemed to be. “We’ve only been here for an hour. I don’t know that I’m ready to bring in mourners to weep and wail for my dashed hopes.”
He chuckled a little, and she breathed more easily. Laughter had always helped her face life’s difficulties.
“Have you set your heart so much on this gentleman you have never met?” His lips pulled downward, drawing his eyes in the same direction. “I suppose... I could try”—he drew the word out long, emphasizing it in an inarguably doubtful way—“to find someone else.”
Someone else she had never met. She would, of course, far prefer to marry someone who actually liked her, who cared about her. In her most imaginative moments, she had even let herself dream of marrying someone she loved who loved her as well. But that was not her lot in life. She had to hold out for those important aspects of a match that she could reasonably fight for. “How probable is it that this hypothetical ‘someone else’ would agree to our terms regarding Fairfield?”
Liam rubbed at his temple. “It is unusual enough for a lady to inherit an estate. Our great-uncle created a very odd situation leaving it to you.”
An odd situation, yes, but he’d also given Penelope greater hope for her future than most ladies had. That hope had ebbed, though, when she’d realized that a lady’s property, by default, became her husband’s upon marriage unless the marriage agreement specified otherwise.
“If the Mr. Greenberry we are waiting for doesn’t return or does only to refuse the match”—heavens, she hoped neither scenario played out—“we could find someone else.”
Liam looked miserable and exhausted. “I know I just said I could try. But I already have, Penelope. I tried with everyone I could think of in Dublin. I tried with any number of English families I had any kind of connection to from my days at Shrewsbury and the one Season I spent in London.” He stood and crossed to the windows, tension rippling off him. “I’ve been trying for years. But you have no dowry, and Fairfield, whichunder normal circumstanceswouldbe a dowry, is not to serve in that capacity. Our family hasn’t any enviable connections or lofty standing.” He looked back at her, misery in his expression. “I have been attempting for years to secure a match on the terms you wish for. Years, Penelope.”
It was decidedly discouraging, but she didn’t mean to entirely abandon this possibility too quickly. “Mr. Greenberry will return soon enough.”
“What if he doesn’t?” Liam pressed.
Penelope took a slow breath to steady herself. “Then, I’ll be in a spot of difficulty, won’t I?”
“Youwill be in a spot of difficulty?” Liam shook his head. “I’ll be the laughingstock of Dublin.”
“And I will be the jilted old maid.”
“Neither of us will emerge from this fiasco unscathed.” His posture slumped. “Is Fairfield worth all this?” Liam clearly had his doubts.
“Yes.” Even if Fairfield were the only consideration, seeing this match through would be worth the current discomfort and uncertainty. But it wasn’t the exclusive reason she needed the wedding to move forward as planned and without delay.
She’d begun making arrangements for living at Fairfield and for making it the profitable horse-breeding endeavor she knew it could be. But most merchants and virtually all banks and creditors were hesitant to work with an unmarried lady. She had a chance to purchase a stallion at a price she knew she’d not ever see again. The animal had good bloodlines and a regal bearing. It, along with the stallion and two brood mares that were already hers, would allow her to begin immediately building her lifelong dreams at Fairfield.
But the loan she needed was contingent on her being married. The stallion wouldn’t be available forever. And after her repeated insistence that she was soon to be married, should shethen fail to marry, the bank might never trust her again. That would undermine her for years.
“There must be someone else who would allow me to keep Fairfield.”
“Niles Greenberry is not merely yourfirstoption. He is yourlast.”
?
“I assure you, Miss Seymour, Niles was raised to be more mannerly than the current situation would indicate.” The eldest Mrs. Greenberry—thequeen, as Penelope thought of her in order to keep them all sorted out in her mind—sat with palpable dignity as supper was served with still no hint of the missing gentleman. “I am certain he will return horrified at having not been here and deeply apologetic for the inconvenience he has caused.” There was a hint of “he had better” underlying her declaration.
The lady’s son and daughter-in-law did not appear as convinced as she was. The nervousness and uncertainty that had been in their expressions earlier remained. If anything, it had increased.
Thekingof the family was proving the most unbothered by the situation. Penelope didn’t for a moment believe he was truly indifferent. He, after all, had invested months of correspondence in bringing this match about. What appeared to be a lack of concern was actually confidence, which helped keep Penelope from fully panicking.
An awkward silence settled over the table, broken only by the clink of crystal and the ping of silverware against china. It seemed even the footmen were holding their breath.
Penelope wasn’tfullypanicking, but she waspartlypanicking.
She pushed around the pease porridge and ham on her plate, doing her best to appear to be eating, but in truth, she had noappetite. She didn’t consider herself a pessimistic person, but she couldn’t entirely convince herself that Mr. Niles Greenberry was soon to return, and every dream she had depended on his return. Every last one.
