Page 49 of Lady for a Season
He nodded. “But I will have you with me and that will make it bearable. As usual. You make all these absurdities bearable. Now, may I offer you my arm as we make our way outside?”
She took his arm, her other arm holding up vast swathes of the blue fabric. The warmth of Edward’s smile and his arm made her feel confident.You make all these absurdities bearable, he had said, but it was as though it were he making this strange life seem possible for her, rather than her looking after him. She could rely on his care of her to get through this, their first real social outing.
The stables housed two carriages and eight horses: a large town carriage drawn by four horses, and an open-toppedphaeton drawn by two, as well as Merlin and Lacey for riding. The reunion with Merlin and Lacey was warm, and once in the saddle they found their way to Hyde Park and the wide, sandy bridleway of Rotten Row, where there were already numerous riders, carriages and pedestrians making their way up and down, all of them elegantly dressed to see and be seen. It was soon clear that Edward and Maggie excited interest, for they were at once both so well dressed as to be important and yet their faces were unknown, so that they were the recipients of polite yet puzzled nods as they rode by. But by the time they had made their way to the end and back, theton, well briefed on all their members old and new, had put two and two together and accurately identified them, with Maggie catching the odd murmur of “Buckingham,” as men nodded to Edward.
“I have made a list of the most suitable debutantes this season,” the Duchess announced that evening after dinner. “Edward, you will pay particular attention to these names and seek them out at gatherings, so that you can ascertain which ones seem to you the most suitable as a potential bride.”
Edward picked up a book and appeared to immerse himself in it.
Unperturbed, the Duchess produced a sheet of paper and proceeded to read from it. “Miss Elizabeth Belmont, daughter of Viscount and Countess Godwin. A mouse of a girl, but that could work in our favour. Her family would fall over themselves for a duke.”
“Why is her surname different from that of her parents?” asked Maggie, confused.
The Duchess sighed. “Because Belmont is their surname, Godwin is the title. Just as Edward is not referred to as Atherton.” She returned to her list. “There is an heiress, Lady Honora Fortescue. Only child of the Marquis and Marchionessof Halesworth. Suffolk. She inherits everything but the title. They say she is bold; I am not sure she will do. Although, if she ends up having to run the estate by herself, it might be necessary to have a firm hand…” She made a face, but then put a small mark next to Lady Honora Fortescue’s name. Miss Belmont’s name received a different mark.
“Lady Anna Huntington…”
Maggie watched Edward’s face as the various names and titles passed, how his hands gripped the book. No pages were turned as the Duchess enumerated the possible brides.
“Viscount and Viscountess Lilley and their daughter Miss Lilley.”
“But their surnames…” began Maggie, quickly subsiding at the look on the Duchess’ face.
“Barely been seen in town since she was presented three years ago and still unmarried, her family are always saying she’s only shy, but I’m not risking her being sickly or mad, she’s altogether kept too much away to be certain. And she’s often at the seaside in Margate, more than anyone ought to be unless they have need of the sea air for some reason.” Her name was crossed off the list in one certain stroke of the quill.
“Lady Celia Follett.” She shrugged. “Not really on the market. She has been promised since she was a baby to the Earl of Comerford. She’s being presented at court this year, she will have one social season and then marry him as planned, so she’s irrelevant. She also has a deformity of the hand, which is most unfortunate. Besides, I met her three years ago and she was pert, had a great deal too much to say for herself. Asked far too many questions.” Again, the crossing-out.
Maggie wondered whether Lady Celia and the Earl were happy with an arranged marriage, but she doubted whether anyone would have bothered asking them. Edward would suffer the same fate: a woman being chosen, not for her good heart orpleasant character, not for any thought of love or at the very least companionship or friendship, but only because she would not ask too many questions, would be sufficiently overawed by the prospect of marrying a duke to go along with the plan, knowing nothing about her future.
“You will excuse me.” Edward stood up, made a perfunctory bow to his mother and left the room.
“I think I should…” said Maggie, glad of the excuse to stop listening to the list. She hurried after Edward and caught up with him on the stairs.
“A list!” He leant against a wall. “A list, as though they were brood mares at an auction, so that I might better choose from amongst them. Nothing about whether we might suit one another, about what they are like, unless my mother considers it worth noting that they are “too pert” … it is worse than I expected.”
Maggie nodded, not knowing what to say, for she agreed with him.
He sighed. “It seems the whole world is mad, and yet I am the one called a lunatic.”
Maggie shook her head. “You are not a lunatic,” she said. “It is a strange world, and it demands strange things of you, things it perhaps ought not to…”
He took her hand in his. “I wish the world saw things as you do, Maggie,” he said. He squeezed her hand. “At least I have you by my side to remind me I am not as mad as they say I am.” He released her hand and resumed climbing the stairs. “I will try not to wake you tonight.”
“You always say that as though I resent it,” she reminded him. “I do not mind. I am glad to comfort you when the bad dreams come.”
They had come to the doors leading to their rooms.
“Goodnight, Maggie.”
“Goodnight, Edward.”
Maggie sat on the edge of her bed, hands absentmindedly undoing her hair, dropping hairpins here and there. The Duchess’ list had unsettled her more than she cared to admit to Edward. It was so coldly done, without emotion, only a hard assessment of each girl and her family. Were the mamas of thetoncurrently making their own lists? Edward would feature on them, of course, a young handsome duke, rich and actively seeking a wife. What would they say about him in the privacy of their homes? What cutting remarks might they be making even now, assessing his wealth and power, knowing nothing about the Edward she had grown to care for, a man uncertain of himself but with a kind heart and a warm laugh when they were alone, with the bluest eyes and hair that caught the sunlight when he rode out… None of this would count for anything, to the mamas. Would he be judged only on the diamonds their daughters might wear, the grand homes, carriages and servants they would have at their disposal, the sums they would be free to spend at the modiste of their choice. Was that all Edward was to them? He was worth so much more. How might she help him find someone who would see him for himself? Who would love him as he deserved to be loved.
By the end of September, the Duchess deemed them ready for their full debut into society.
“Lady Godwin’s dinner and Lady Halesworth’s ball will be enough of a start to the season,” she decreed. “It will give people a chance to see us and to know that Edward is serious about finding a wife this season. After that, there will be no difficulties in finding enough people who are interested in him, and a quick engagement and marriage will be our intent. Preferably by the end of this season. June is always a good time of year for weddings, before thetonreturn to their homes for the summer.”
The night before Lady Godwin’s dinner Maggie awoke to Edward’s shouts and hurried to him.
