Page 36 of The Viscount's Pearl
“I have received some news from Lady Lilley,” said Lord Barrington after dinner, when they were enjoying port together. He pulled from his waistcoat pocket a folded piece of paper, on which was written, in a lady’s hand, a lengthy message. “I thought, since we both have a connection to the person in question, that you might wish to hear it.”
“Indeed, Sir?”
“It seems Frances is to be married.”
Laurence’s stomach lurched in a quick dip downwards, almost giddy, but it quickly turned to a leaden weight. There was no reason for this, of course. Miss Lilley was only an acquaintance, perhaps slightly more than that only by virtue of her connection to his uncle, and therefore they had spent more time together than might have been usual with other young ladies of his social circle, but there was no reason why he should…
He swallowed, realising that his uncle was watching him,waiting for an answer. “In-indeed? My felicitations, Sir, I know you are very fond of her, you must be delighted on her behalf. To – to whom is she engaged?”
Lord Barrington gave a half smile and referred to the letter before him. “A Lord Hosmer, apparently.”
Laurence tried to bring to mind a Lord Hosmer from amongst the members of theton, but the only person he could think of was… “The Lord Hosmer of whom I am aware is a marquis,” he managed at last. “But he is – or was – at least sixty years of age, which is, not meaning to offend you, Sir, far too old for Miss Lilley. Is it his son?”
Lord Barrington’s mouth twitched again. “No, no, it is the gentleman to whom you refer who is to marry her. Lord Hosmer has no heirs, I understand.”
Laurence leapt to his feet, unable to keep still. He felt a need to walk about the room, or perhaps strike something or someone, though he was unsure what or whom, only that his hands had become fists and that his jaw was clenched hard. “She cannot possibly marry someone so old. You must forbid it, Sir!”
“I cannot do any such thing,” replied his uncle. “Lord Hosmer has made her an offer, which it appears she has accepted, Lord and Lady Lilley are delighted.”
“But it is – absurd – unacceptable – unthinkable that a young lady should marry a man in his dotage and be happy!”
“Perhaps she has decided that an older gentleman would suit her best after all. It appears Lord Hosmer is keen to have a young bride, as he has no heirs. She can look forward to the comfort of children and will be a companion to him in his later years, once there are no more… expectations of her.”
The idea of Lord Hosmer, whom Laurence had once met at a ball, who had abominable breath, gnarled hands and a stooped back, having… expectations of Miss Lilley, as his uncle had so delicately put it, was more than he could bear, the very ideawas disgusting. Laurence turned first one way and then another, pacing about the room. “You surely cannot think she would be happy Sir, that the marriage would be in any way suitable. It is a monstrous suggestion.”
Lord Barrington leant back in his chair, his eyes following Laurence as he paced the dining room. “Your consternation in this regard leads me to ask whether you yourself had any intentions of marriage towards Frances.”
Laurence stopped, stunned. “No, Sir.”
“None at all?”
“She does not wish to be married, Sir, you know this yourself, it has been the subject of discussion between us more than once.”
“I did not ask about her intentions, but about yours. Is there a part of you that had considered her as a possible bride?”
“No,” said Laurence promptly. “She is… not…” He fumbled for the words he needed, but none of them were readily at hand. “She does not wish to marry, and for myself I would require a wife who is well versed in all social niceties, which Miss Lilley, begging your pardon, Sir, is not.”
Lord Barrington nodded. “Quite so. But then it should not really concern you whom she marries.”
Laurence swallowed. His uncle was right, of course. Every year, all kinds of unsuitable matches were made across theton, and though some had raised eyebrows in the past, he had not felt this rush of emotions in regard to any of them. He had not known outrage, or anger, or despair or… orjealousy. And that was what this feeling was, it was jealousy. He did not want Frances married off to Lord Hosmer because he wanted her for himself. Odd, blunt, stubborn Frances. He wanted her. He stood silent for a few moments, then sank back down into his chair, legs weak at the realisation. Lord Barrington watched him closely, then poured him a glass of port, which Laurence downed in one gulp.
“Have you had a change of heart, dear boy?”
“I – I think so, Sir, I… had not realised it before but… yes.”
Lord Barrington leant back in his chair, a warm smile on his face. “Well done. I am proud of you. An excellent choice.”
“But…”
“But?”
“Isit an excellent choice? She is… very odd, Uncle. Would it be wrong of me to marry a woman who may not be able to fulfil her duties as Viscountess Barrington?”
“In what way might she not be able to fulfil her duties?”
“She will need to be a hostess, she will need to attend social occasions…”
“And do you doubt her ability to do so?”
