Page 4 of The Marquess's Imperfect Brid
Gareth was confused, but he simply nodded, giving his brother a puzzled smile.
“Of course, little brother,” he said. “If it pleases you, we may attend to that matter at this moment.”
Thomas nodded, looking almost relieved as he led Gareth through the painting laden halls of the pale blue and green carpeted townhouse. The men were silent as they headed for the terrace doors, and Gareth tried studying his brother’s face. Thomas always wore a carefree expression, and right then was no exception. But as their eyes met when Thomas opened the door that led into the gardens, his eyes were serious and urgent. Gareth swallowed at the uncharacteristic change in his younger brother. What could possibly make the lighthearted Thomas Darnall so solemn?
Once they were far enough away from the townhouse, Thomas stopped Gareth. They stood just outside the expansive gardens, with Thomas glancing up cautiously at the yellow-draped windows of the townhouse.
“I understand that it is not my place to tell you this,” he said, keeping his voice low despite the solitude of their position outside. “However, I feel I would be doing my beloved brother a disservice if I did not warn you.”
Gareth sighed, nodding.
“What is Mother’s plan?” he asked with a wry smile. “Has she crafted a dance card for me for these balls and dinner parties and filled it without my knowledge?”
Thomas smirked, but his eyes held no amusement.
“I fear it is worse than that, Brother,” he said. “She and Father plan to make a match between Lady Cecilia and you. That is why she and her parents were here waiting with us when you arrived. It has apparently been all but decided. They were simply waiting for you to return so that they could finalize the details. I suppose they could not make such an arrangement official without your signature.”
Gareth heaved another sigh. The thought of marrying a woman like Lady Cecilia made his stomach twist. She was too shallow, too conceited and too empty-headed for him to tolerate for more than a couple of minutes. He had known that his father was eager for him to begin fulfilling the duties that would be his once he was duke. But to sacrifice his ability to find a wife he truly loved, who could serve as an elegant and compassionate duchess at his side and share the duties of the dukedom with grace and poise, was something which he did not think he could bear.
“Wonderful,” he said bitterly.
***
“My darling daughters,” Frederick said, smiling warmly at Anne and Grace as they took their seats at the dinner table. “You look positively ravishing, as always.”
The marchioness nodded in agreement, beaming at her daughters as they settled in.
“And what am I, dear Mother?” their older brother, Neil, asked from the doorway, giving their parents a grandly exaggerated pouting expression.
The women giggled as Neil made a small show of being wounded. As he approached their mother to kiss her cheek, she laughed, shaking her head and giving him a gentle push toward his seat.
“Do not be silly, darling,” she said. “You look absolutely beautiful, as well.”
Grace and Anne burst into laughter at their mother’s jest. Grace had always adored the closeness and humor within her family. And Neil was pleased to maintain the jest. He gave a deep curtsey, pinching the hem of his long brown dinner jacket and batting his eyelashes like a proper lady.
“That is more like it,” he said as he took his seat.
Grace could barely contain her laughter as she put her napkin in her lap. Her brother’s antics had been one bright light in the darkness that was the months following her accident. Besides the protective attitude he had taken with her out in public, the laughter he gave to her during that time had brightened even her darkest moods.
For Grace, that night, the jovial mood was not to last. Everyone settled their laughter as the first course of the meal, fish soup, was served. But before they began to eat, Louisa Farraway tapped her wine glass, smiling brightly at her children.
“I am very excited to announce that we will not be spending our summer in Bath this year,” she said. “Your father and I have been talking at length about it, and we have decided that it is time that we begin hosting our annual house party at Farenley Manor once again.”
Grace’s heart fell into her stomach, suffocating her appetite. Her parents had not hosted their yearly house party since before her accident. She had attended only a few parties hosted by her mother, and fewer still of those that took place at the homes of other noble men and women. The physician had suggested that her parents grant her as much time in Bath as possible, as the healing waters of the lovely place would be of great benefit to her healing journey after the accident. But now, her parents would be inviting the entire ton inside the walls of their home for them to judge and whisper about Grace.
Not wishing to make a fuss, especially after seeing how her brother’s and sister’s faces lit up at the mention of the party, Grace picked up her spoon and dipped it into her soup. Her stomach churned, but she would do her best to keep her family from seeing her anxiety and displeasure at something which clearly made them so happy.
“Grace, darling,” the marquess said with a soft, gentle voice. “I knew you might be worried about such a big event. Three years to us must feel like mere months to you, and we have not forgotten that. However, I want you to know that your mother and I will be there through the entire process to support and protect you.”
Grace looked up into her father’s compassionate eyes. She gave him a smile, feeling only marginally reassured.
“Thank you, Papa,” she said, forcing herself to sound more relieved than she truly felt. “I am certain that it will be a lovely affair.”
But as her family continued gushing about the party, Grace could not stop thinking about the stares and whispers she experienced when she did attend social events. It seemed that half the ton pitied her, but not enough to offer her friendship or kind words. And the other half hated her, just enough to make her feel uncomfortable and unwelcome when she found herself in their company. Even women whom she had known since she was a child treated her like a beast with a contagious plague after her accident. How could she ever face those same people with her head held high?
She quietly excused herself, doing her best to keep on her brave face. But once she and Lady Whiskers were safely behind the door to her bedchambers, she chewed her bottom lip fiercely, allowing herself to shudder with the horrific images of the judgmental eyes and sharp tongues that awaited her at the house party. She curled up on her bed, snuggling up to Lady Whiskers,who laid facing her and began kneading her stomach gently in an effort to comfort her.
She could never do anything to jeopardize her family’s happiness or to take away something that once meant the world to all of them. But how could she cope with their home constantly filled with people who would do nothing but make her more afraid and insecure than she already was?
