Page 9 of Finding Hope
“Precisely,” Max agreed.
“Well, I will not meddle,” he said softly as he drifted back to sleep.
“You never have,” Max muttered as he stood and left the room quietly, wondering if things would not have been better if he had meddled.
Max went downstairs to find Abernathy to see what the state of his inheritance was. The last thing he had expected to find when he returned was that he would be taking over for his father much, much sooner than he expected. His father had always seemed almost immortal, and Max had not expected to accede to the title for many a long year yet.
He stopped and frowned at the door to the steward’s office. Should he marry now? Once he became Duke, it would be much more difficult. Would it be too much for one such as Hope, who had not been bred to such a status? Max hated being rushed or constrained into anything.
Somehow he wanted to do this to please his father, but he knew he could not leave before the Duke’s death. He shook his head and rapped once on the door before entering.
“My lord,” Abernathy said, as he rose from his chair. “I am glad you came. Your father has not been himself for some time.”
“Yes, I have just come from seeing him.”
“I urged him to tell you sooner,” he said apologetically.
“I do not blame you. He is stubborn. I must confess, however, I did not read the letter. Her Grace presented it to me as an ultimatum, and I did not even open it.”
“Yes, I overheard her trying to convince him of the necessity, but whilst your father may have given the appearance of acceding to her wishes, he rarely has.”
“Indeed?” Max had always assumed his mother was the backbone behind the dukedom. It was a relief to hear otherwise.
“Here are the papers giving you full control. Once his Grace passes away, things will be made official in Parliament, of course.”
Max absently took the papers, which meant very little, as none of it seemed real to him.
“Things are in good order, but there are some urgent matters in need of your attention,” the steward said. “Will you be needing to hurry back to London?” he asked.
Max shook his head. “No, Abernathy. I am here for the duration.”
CHAPTER 3
It had been a fortnight since Hope had last seen or heard from Lord Rotham. Not that she was counting, but after having seen him every day for months, it was as though he had simply disappeared. The Duchess was still at many of the same entertainments, unfortunately, but not her son.
The Season no longer held the allure it had, and she hated that her enjoyment of the activities seemed to pivot on Rotham’s presence.
Why could she not forget about him? She had several perfectly nice, eligible suitors to choose from, and she could not contemplate any of them. Perhaps once Rotham was wed, then she would be able to relinquish hope. But things felt dismal, and if he was never going to be in Society, then she would have no chance of changing his mind.
Most of the matches that had been made that Season were coming to fruition with weddings at Saint George’s, Hanover Square, and the rest of thetonwas making plans to go to the country for various house parties.
“Why the long face?”
Hope turned at Patience’s voice. They were all in the upstairs sitting room set aside for their use.
She gave a careless shrug of one shoulder. “I do not know. Perhaps I am weary of the Season.”
“When you were the one who was desperate for it?” she argued.
“I would not mind going to a house party or somewhere in the country for the summer,” Grace said. “It does not sound like most people remain in Town anyway.”
“Has the Dowager mentioned her plans? Or does she mean to spend the summer at Taywards?”
“I have not heard,” Grace answered, then they looked at Joy, who always seemed to know everything that was going on from overhearing the servants talk. She did not seem to realize they were all looking at her expectantly.
“Joy?” Grace prompted.
She turned to them. “Oh. I have not heard, either. I miss Faith. When are they expected to return?”
