Page 8 of The Earl's Demure Spinster
CHAPTER 4
“Yes, I think the dinner was wonderful last night,” Victoria exclaimed over the breakfast table. “Lady Arabella had a lovely time and I think she made a great impression.”
Wesley somehow resisted the urge to contort his face in utter horror. Did everyone else not see what she did last night? Were the rest of his family blind to how Lady Arabella had behaved? He’d had an awful tine with her, and truly did not wish to see her again.
He tried to catch Harriet’s eyes, but she seemed to be pointedly avoiding his gaze. It seemed that she saw how little fun Wesley had had over the dinner table, even if his mother did not see it. That was something at least.
“Her parents were very interested in you as well, Wesley, which I am sure is good to hear,” Victoria continued as if she did not sense the sizzling tension in the room at all. “I am confident that we shall soon be able to commence our endeavours forthwith. I am excited to see what the future holds for the two of you.”
Wesley forced a polite smile, his mind racing to find a way to articulate his discontent without causing a scene. “Yes, Mother, it was certainly an... eventful evening,” he replied carefully, hoping to convey his displeasure without outright saying it. “A lot happened, I would say.”
Victoria, however, seemed oblivious to his hesitation. “Eventful indeed! Lady Arabella has such charm and poise. She will make a splendid match for you, and the way that she looks at you, Wesley, I can see that she likes you too!”
Wesley’s stomach churned at the thought. He had found Lady Arabella to be pretentious and insufferable, her laughtergrating and her conversation hollow. The idea of spending any more time with her, let alone considering her as a future partner, was unbearable.
He glanced again at Harriet, who was now stirring her tea with unusual vigor. Their eyes finally met, and he saw a flicker of understanding and sympathy. Harriet could no longer ignore what Welsey was going through. She clucked her tongue and finally spoke up for him.
“Mother,” Harriet interjected gently, setting her tea cup down. “Perhaps Wesley should have a say in this matter. It is important that he feels comfortable with whoever he spends his time with. They have not had enough time to get to know one another yet.”
Victoria looked mildly surprised at Harriet’s suggestion but quickly brushed it off. “Nonsense, Harriet. Wesley is perfectly capable of making his own decisions, and I am sure he understands the importance of this alliance.”
He gritted his teeth together angrily. “Yes, alliance… I understand that.”
For his social and business interests, this was probably the best thing that he could do… but that did not stop his heart from remaining discouraged and disengaged. There was never going to be a way that he could find it in his heart to want to marry someone just because it was the right thing to do.
Victoria was not going to let it go easily though. She was certainly stuck on the idea that Lady Arabella was the woman for him. It was endlessly frustrating, but he simply did not know what he could do to make her understand his point of view. She was even more thrilled that a ball in the evening would give them more time together…
It was actually a relief when breakfast came to an end, and Wesley could leave the pressure behind for a little while. He already had plans to go fencing with Edward, which wouldhopefully get his mind off the idea of an unpleasant marriage anchored solely in societal benefits, which left him feeling confined. He wanted more for his life, he wanted to stretch away from these inherited obligations.
As Wesley strode towards the stables, the crisp morning air filled his lungs, bringing a sense of temporary freedom. The thought of fencing with Edward was the only bright spot in his day. Edward had been his best friend since childhood, a steady confidant who never judged but always listened and that was exactly what he needed right now.
Wesley found Edward already waiting, his fencing gear meticulously arranged on a wooden bench. The sight of his friend’s familiar, easy smile brought Wesley some comfort. “Morning, Wesley,” Edward greeted, clapping him on the back. “You look like you’ve had a run in with a particularly unpleasant ghost.”
Wesley chuckled, though it was devoid of humor. “You might say that. Lady Arabella is not quite the spirit I want haunting my future.”
Edward raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? I see. The dinner did not go well then, I take it? What was it about her?”
Wesley sighed, beginning to suit up. “It is not just her. It’s the whole charade. My mother is convinced she is the perfect match, but I can not stand the thought of spending another evening with her, let alone a lifetime.”
“So, you are still thinking about looking for love then?” Edward asked. “And you have not yet tried to tell your mother that?”
“Oh, I have tried, but she will not listen.” He rolled his eyes. “She does not want to hear anything that I have to say.”
The two men took their positions, the clash of their swords ringing out in the still morning air. With each strike and parry, Wesley felt his tension slowly dissipate, his thoughts becomingclearer. He knew Edward was right. He would have to confront his mother eventually, but for now, the rhythmic dance of fencing was a welcome distraction. He could not let his mother get too far with her plans, or he would never be able to escape the life that lay before him, the one with Lady Arabella.
If only he could meet someone who immediately captured his heart. Someone who his mother might find just as suitable. Then all of his problems would be solved.
***
Wesley stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his cravat for what felt like the hundredth time. His hands were unsteady, betraying the nerves that had been building up inside him all day, ever since he had finished fencing with Edward. Tonight’s ball was no ordinary social event; it was another opportunity for his mother to parade Lady Arabella in front of him, hoping to solidify what she perceived as a perfect match.
The candle light flickered, casting shadows on the polished surface of the mahogany dresser. Wesley straightened his jacket, the deep navy blue fabric feeling constricting and heavy. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm the anxiety gnawing at him. This evening would be a test of his resolve.
A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. “Wesley, are you ready?” It was Harriet, her voice gentle yet insistent.
“Yes, I am coming,” he replied, giving his reflection one last scrutinizing glance. He opened the door to find Harriet looking elegant in her evening gown, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and encouragement.
“You look dashing, brother,” she said with a small smile. “You shall be the envy of many tonight.”
