Page 6 of A Scandalous Love for the Enticing Duke
“In that case, I suppose we should be on our way. I wouldn’t want to keep Father waiting.”
Agnes stood still, head high, shoulders squared and spine straight as her mother’s eyes fluttered over her, making assessment of her appearance. She must have decided that what she wore was acceptable, for she simply said, “Indeed, let’s,” and proceeded out of the chamber. Agnes followed suit, closing the doors behind her as she too stepped out.
By the time they got to her father’s study, her palms were damp with sweat, and she was releasing breaths in steady streams, all in a bid to keep her calm. As they entered, she saw her father by his desk, immersed in a piece of document he was reading.
He put away the document and took off his glasses before turning to look at them. He gave them both small smiles and then rose to march to the sofa where he stood by, waiting for them, ever the gentleman.
Agnes returned his smile as she reached the leather button sofa and took her seat. Her mother did the same, crossing her legs at her ankles.
“Williams, if you would hand over the letter to her, please?”
She looked from her mother to her father, confused. What letter did they refer to, and what had she to do with this letter? Her questions were answered when her Father handed over an envelope to her.
The seal was broken, so she knew for certain whatever was in this envelope had been read. However, it was addressed to the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, thus by every indication, they were in the right to have read the letter. Her chest suddenly felt too heavy as her heart began to gallop against her ribs. She willed her hands not to shake as she drew out the folded letter and placed the envelope aside, so that she could unfold the piece of paper.
She did so and began to read.
“Dear Williams and Victoria,
Good tidings. We hope this meets you in good health and peace. First of all, we shall apologise for not doing this in persons. However, you must understand that this is a matter of the utmost importance, and we could not wait one more day. Putting our request in writing was the next best thing we could think of.
Friends, as you know, we have a son, Nicholas, who is twenty and eight summers this year. An agreeable age for any young man to settle down and manage his own home, would you not agree? Sadly, as it is, Nicholas has his nose buried deep in his books – scholar that he is – and while we are proud of that, we fear this has gone on for too long. He has declared no public interest in any young maiden, to our knowledge, and we worry that if we force his hand to do the needful, he shall make the wrong choice. As we pondered on how to go about making the right choice for our son, the future Duke of Yorkshire, you and your lovely family came to mind.
It is to our best knowledge that you have three beautiful daughters, all of whom are unmarried and unpromised. We are aware of the respectable household you uphold, and we declare, Nicholas could not get a better choice for a wife.
You must have realised by now, what it is in fact, that we speak of. Yes. This is a proposal for your first daughter, the fair lady, Agnes Birmingham. We wish to ask for her hands in marriage for our dear son, Nicholas as we are convinced that they would make a perfect match.
It would gladden us so if both you and the maiden accept this proposal. We shall await your response with eagerness and hope for favourable news.
Yours,
Henry and Elizabeth
Duke and Duchess of Yorkshire”
Agnes swallowed the lump that had settled in her throat as she finished reading. She was in awe of how she had managed to read to the end of the letter without dropping it. She had realised what it was she was reading as soon as mention of Nicholas was made. It was quite easy to put things together to make a clearer picture when one was as smart as she was.
“So?” Her mother asked, leaning towards her. She was speechless, had no idea what to say, only that huge fists wrapped around her lungs and heart, cutting off her air and blood supply. She wondered which hurt more, her loss of air, or the ache in her chest. Oh no. This was bad. This was really bad. She had known this day would come, despite her foolish childish dreams, and hoped that it wouldn’t. Only she had thought she would have more time, that they would have more time.
“Agnes?” Her father’s concerned voice speared through her thoughts, and as she looked at him, the fists loosened so she could finally breathe.
Her gasp came out forcefully as she dragged in a lungful of fresh air. Great! Now she was hyperventilating. She ignored her parents’ alarmed looks and remained as quiet as possible as she took in more gulps of air. She was grateful she had no corset on, those darned contraptions would have made it harder. Her intuition had been right, once more. This was heavy.
“Are you alright, dear?”
Before she could reply, her mother did, regal smile on her face.
“But of course, Williams! Why wouldn’t she be? She is simply overexcited by the news. She can’t quite believe her fortune; isn’t that right, dear?”
She turned to look at her mother, stupefied. One would assume that they had seen every shade of Victoria Birmingham, then she awed with another spectacular hue. She shook her head but was glad she was finally regaining her composure.
“I am alright, Father. Just shocked, is all. So, this Duke and Duchess, they are your acquaintances?”
“Business partners,” her mother cut in.
“Friends too. Henry and I went to Eton together. You have met them a few times,’ her father replied, cutting her mother off. She smiled at this, especially when her mother relaxed back into her seat.
“And you have met this Nicholas?”
