Page 60 of The Duke's Carriage Window
“I see.” George leaned back in his chair. “And have you received Miss Montague’s acceptance? We both agree that her feelings on the matter must be acknowledged and respected.”
“She will agree.”
“You mean you haven’t asked her?” the prince snorted. “A lady must be asked, Tiverton.”
“I…er…informed her that we were to be wed… this morning.”
At Darius’s reluctant admission, the prince rolled his eyes, and Warren shook his head in disappointment.
“Informed? My dear Tiverton, what on earth is to be done with you? Someone cannot be commanded into marriage, even if they are compromised. Will she be ruined? Yes, most certainly, but a man cannot force a woman into marriage. A woman must be wooed into it.”
“Sir, if I may interject,” said Warren. “Tiverton has never had the necessity to woo a young lady. They tend to fall into his arms at the slightest provocation. Perhaps you could offer him a few suggestions as to how he should go about wooing?”
Darius shot his friend a quelling look.
The prince puffed up with pride at being asked for such advice. “Isn’t it obvious? Flowers, sweets, hand-holding, walks in the garden. Recite some poetry, for God’s sake, Tiverton. Woo her, and when she has informed me herself that she has accepted you, I shall tell the Archbishop you have my permission to receive a marriage license.”
“But Sir?—”
“Do not argue with me,” he said flatly, his tone clearly ending the argument. “Now sit down, have a cup of tea and collect your wits, Tiverton. You will need them, it would seem.”
Darius slumped into a chair and woodenly accepted a cup from the footman. Warren began an animated discussion with the prince on the latest fashions from the continent, and the prince was more than happy to provide his opinion on the newest ways to tie cravat, as well as patterns and cuts for trousers.
Darius listened to none of this. His frown deepened on his face as he tried to figure out how he was going to marry Meredith without going against the Crown.
He took another sip of tea, not tasting it at all, and continued to worry over his situation. Meredith would have to be tricked or cajoled into accepting his proposal, that was the simplest solution.
Woo her? Flowers? Sweets? Poetry? The very idea was ridiculous to him. It was performative art, and to him that felt akin to falsehood. The truth was that marriage was the logical thing to do, and one did not approach a truth with lies. Even if he did give into his more romantic tendencies and try to woo her, would she even believe he truly wanted her and cared about her, especially after he had commanded her earlier?
When their audience with the prince concluded, they left Carlton House and returned to their coach, pressing past the gathered onlookers once more.
Darius glared at his friend as he opened the coach door. “Do not say a word.”
Warren grinned like a jackal as he settled into the seat opposite Darius. “Wasn’t going to, old boy.”
Warren was right. He didn’t know how to woo. But he did know how to seduce and perhaps that was a place to start. Seduction, at least, was honest about its intentions.
With a renewed sense of determination, Darius stared out the coach window, planning how best to seduce his ward. Because he was going to marry her, even if he had to defy the monarchy to do it.
14
Meredith stepped out of the coach, carefully lifting her skirts and accepting the footman’s offered hand. She had changed into a promenade dress of blush pink with long tailored sleeves. Silver embroidered plumes decorated the hem of the gown and the bodice.
It was a more sedate gown. Meredith had chosen it out of a desire to blend in, rather than stand out. Most of the dresses Darius had bought were stunningly beautiful works of art that would catch the attention of any man and the envy of any woman. But today, that was exactly what she wished to avoid.
Mrs. Petersham shared a glance with Meredith as they noticed with regret how crowded Berkeley Square was at this time of day. She’d wanted to get out and distract herself from the thought of Darius acquiring a special marriage license, but she hadn’t given thought to being around other people. After Lady Mary Raikes’ stinging words, she felt strangely exposed whenever strangers looked at her.
“It’s just ice cream. I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Mrs. Petersham said.
They headed toward Gunter’s, the famed confectionery shop at number seven in Berkeley Square. The shop had been founded by an Italian pastry cook, Domenico Negri, who specialized in a wide range of sweet and savory foods. Darius had once said that Negri was one of the first confectioneries in England to establish ice cream and water ices as a delicacy. When James Gunter had taken over the business, he renamed the shop and soon all of London’s ladies were eager to have Gunter’s cater their large dinner parties with fine pastries, sweets and ice creams.
As they entered the shop, Meredith felt dozens of eyes on her. All of the ladies and gentlemen in the shop were watching her. Unfortunately, Meredith recognized one of the women as one of those who had kept company with Lady Mary last evening at the ball. Had Lady Mary’s cruel words last night traveled so quickly?
“Chin up, dear.” Mrs. Petersham took Meredith’s arm in hers and they approached the countertop to examine the confections and pastries on display. A waiter stood ready to take their order. Meredith stared at the collection of pewter molds and whimsical shapes that hung on the back wall.
“We freeze them in flavored ices,” the waiter explained to Meredith when he caught her examining the various molds that were in the shapes of animals or fruits.
“How delightful!” said Meredith.
