Page 25 of The Marquess's Final Fling
“She would not refuse you.”
“So I hoped.” Theo glanced toward the windows, the snow falling fast in large lacy flakes. “I had the governess pack Violet and Suzanna’s belongings and I sent all three to Annabelle’s for Christmas.”
“And now?” Harlow asked with a tone of resignation. “What are you about?”
“I have renewed my acquaintance with Lady Goddard. I’ve conversed, dined and laughed with her. She has endured many of the same challenges I have. She had to marry one she was told to wed. He was kind, though she did not love him. I have not asked about her next two husbands, though I sense those matches were practical. Not passionate.”
Harlow inhaled. “You had good wives.”
“I did. I will say nothing against their good names. If I married each for less than love, I would not admit it to other than you and Penn. Nor would I sully my children’s births with any word less than praise for their mothers. But now, I am in a different position than ever I was before. I am a widower, twice over, with an understanding of women and marriage and death. I will be thirty-two on my next birthday and with two daughters to raise, I will not continue to do it with only a governess to teach them the joys of life.”
Harlow opened his mouth to praise him for this.
But Theo put up a hand. “Let me finish, please. I love Lady Goddard. She is now again a widow. For the third time. As I am now a widower for the second time. I vow I will not miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make her my wife. Mine. As I wished so long ago. She has little money. Whatever she has, she can keep. I have no need of more. She has a title, but I care not for her status. I can raise her from a baronet’s wife to my marchioness. She is thirty-one and I want her in my homes, in my arms and in my bed.”
His father looked worn, defeated. “Does she agree?”
“I’ve not yet asked her. But I will. And I hope she graces me with her consent.”
“Why would she not, Theo?” His father sounded sorrowful. “If she loves you as you do her, then she’ll agree.”
A dark despair engulfed Theo. “Oh, Father, you know why she may refuse me.”
Harlow caught his breath. “Because of my objection?”
“Never.” Theo doubted that. “Not after all she and I have suffered living apart.”
“What then? Would she refuse you because she has little as a dowry?”
Theo laughed, a bitter note. “Nor would it be her insignificance, as you called it years ago, as a viscount’s youngest daughter. Now she is steps lower.”
Harlow fumbled to reach the nearest chair.
“Now she’ll refuse me because she believes that she is barren.”
His father grimaced.
“My darling Penn has been so well trained by society that because she has never been with child from three husbands, she thinks she brings me nothing worth having.”
Theo stilled, swallowing his own sorrows, then he pulled himself up to higher stature. “I must…Iwillconvince her otherwise. I do not ask for your consent. Frankly, I care not if you never give it. I will not be bought or bribed or shamed or ridiculed. Nor will I reconsider. If after I am gone, my lands and yours and all our titles go to my cousin or his son, so be it. Our duchy will not be the first to fall to a cadet branch. My concern, instead, is with here and now. With the happiness and well-being of my tenants, with the two children I do have and with my own happiness. Today, Father, is a precious commodity. I will waste no more of them wanting what others have told me I should not want or may not have. I can and will live as I wish. With a woman I love. May God grant that she’ll take me. Even after all these years.”
Harlow stood up.
“Excuse me, Father. I must leave you and find Penn. I will propose marriage. I would not have her spend another hour without my declaration.”
* * *
He took the stairs two at a time. Strode down the hall, a man possessed.
Her door stood open and her lady’s maid tidied this and that in the sitting room. “My lord,” she said and curtsied. “What may I do for you?”
“Where is your mistress?”
“She’s left, sir.”
His heart stopped. “Where? Where did she go?”
“Home, sir. Or I think so. She did not tell me precisely where, sir.”
