Page 6 of Unending Joy
His father cleared his throat. “The race you participated in near Epsom was not well-received in certain circles,” he stated. “We gather from this article—” He tapped one of the clippings, “—that you were cutting a swath through Melton as though you fancied yourself some Corinthian daredevil. Now, while I have no objection to sport, you must understand that Society is less tolerant of certain extremes.”
Freddy knew precisely which incident they referred to. He had, along with a few jovial acquaintances, decided to see whose mount could clear the greatest obstacles in a single gallop—fences, hedges, and even the occasional low stone wall. It had been exhilarating at the time.
He attempted a light quip. “But, Father, you have always said that a Cunningham should know how to handle a horse under any circumstance.”
Unfortunately, his humour fell flat. His father frowned, and his mother pressed a hand to her bosom as though she had taken offence. His father continued, voice grim: “The matter would not be so pressing if it were your only caper, but it seems we have a regular pattern here. Another article mentions an opera dancer—some woman known for her flamboyant costumes. Care to explain?”
Freddy blushed, hardly wishing to expound on such a matter in front of his mother. “She is a friend of a friend,” he prevaricated. “I did attend the performance, but I fail to see how that alone constitutes?—”
His mother cut him off, waving a hand in mild exasperation. “We have been more than patient, allowing you to sow your oats, as it were. But, Freddy, when does it end? We understand you must feel adrift since all of your closest friends have recently married.”
Freddy opened his mouth, then closed it, deciding it was best to remain silent. His father took a step closer, folding his arms over his broad chest. “It is time to settle yourself, Freddy. We have indulged you, hoping you would take a sensible step on your own, but it has become clear that you need a firmer hand.”
A hush fell over the drawing room, broken only by the sounds from the street outside. Freddy swallowed hard. This was the confrontation he had scarcely imagined would come. Yes, he was nearing his thirtieth year, but he had never thought his father would issue such an ultimatum, not when the elder Cunningham had always seemed content with Freddy’s easy-going ways.
His father’s brow furrowed. “Have you nothing to say for yourself? Do you not question why we must take these measures?”
Freddy mustered what dignity he could. “What, precisely, do you wish for me to do?” he asked.
At that, his mother threw up her hands as if in a silent appeal to Heaven. She rose from her seat and paced a small circle before turning back to him. “Settling yourself, Frederick,” she declared, “means behaving like an adult, choosing a wife, establishing a household, and attending to your lands and tenants.”
The last phrase caught Freddy off guard. “My lands and tenants?” he repeated carefully. He glanced at his father, whose eyes gleamed with some unspoken plan. “Are you suggesting something is amiss at Gresham Park? Are you ailing, Father? Do you need for me to come home and take the reins?”
To Freddy’s surprise, his father let out a hearty laugh that shook his shoulders. “Nothing is wrong, son, not a whit. As far as I know, I remain in excellent health, but that does not change the reality that I cannot manage everything forever. And, more importantly, you must think of your future. Our line extends beyond me. You are the next head of the family, and it is time you acted in such a manner.”
His mother added in a softer tone, “We are concerned for your happiness, Freddy. We want to see you established, with a good woman at your side. A man of your station cannot drift aimlessly, nor can he remain a bachelor forever.”
Freddy felt his jaw tighten.Drifting aimlessly. That was how they perceived him, then. Perhaps there was truth in it, for his days had passed pleasantly enough in a whirl of sporting events, dinners, and mild flirtations. He had never considered himself irresponsible or reckless, though he now realized that from his parents’ perspective, his escapades might appear exactly so.
“I see.” He swallowed, aware of a dryness in his throat. “And how do you propose we rectify this perceived aimlessness?”
His father’s gaze sharpened. “I shall settle your grandmother’s Kent estate upon you when you marry. Then you shall take charge of that estate and learn to live off its revenues. As from six months hence, I will no longer support you in the manner to which you have grown accustomed. That is a fair amount of time, I believe, for you to choose a wife as the Season is in full swing.”
Freddy’s stomach dropped. He managed to keep his voice steady, though inside he was reeling. “Six months?”
His mother nodded. “That should bring us just beyond the end of the Season. I shall remain in Town to oversee the details of your engagement, once you declare yourself. You may rely on my assistance in selecting an appropriate match.
Lord Gresham set his hand on the table, palm flat. “By the close of the Season, I shall be looking to return to London for your engagement ball. Am I understood, son?”
Freddy attempted to speak, but the words lodged in his throat. It would not do to argue that he knew many others who behaved with far less circumspection. With some effort, he managed to choke out, “Yes, sir.”
An uncomfortable hush followed. He could tell from his mother’s pinched expression that the matter weighed upon her heart. His father, though gruff, had not made the decision lightly. They genuinely believed this step necessary.
Freddy, on the other hand, felt as though the floor had shifted beneath him. He had never intentionally avoided matrimony—he merely enjoyed the freedom of his bachelor state, and none of the ladies he had encountered had inspired him to relinquish it. Indeed, many of his friends had already succumbed to wedded life. Lord Montford, his own brother-in-law, seemed blissfully content with Vivienne. Another great friend, Lord Westwood, hailed the transition as the best decision of his life. Freddy did not begrudge them their happiness. He simply had never found the impetus to follow suit.
Now, he was being pushed into that very step.Six months, he thought again, the words echoing in his mind. In half a year, he would either be affianced or cut off from the paternal purse. No more comfortable allowances to spend on horses, travel, or the occasional flirtation of any sort.
His father dismissed him with a grave nod. “Off with you, then,” he said, though not unkindly. “Use your time wisely,Freddy. Prove to us that you are capable of managing your life, and I shall happily establish you as master of your own estate.”
Freddy inclined his head in a semblance of deference, murmured farewells to his mother, and exited the drawing room. In a daze, he crossed the threshold into the bright midday sunlight, blinking as though he had woken from a dream.
CHAPTER 3
Of course, Joy would be forced to suffer tea at Lady Abernathy’s house the day after her humiliation with Lord Abernathy. She closed her eyes and drew in a long, steadying breath. Of all the trials London could inflict upon a reluctant débutante, being obliged to go there might well rank among the most dreaded. That woman had the memory of an elephant and the social tact of a goose. The very thought of stepping over Lady Abernathy’s threshold caused Joy’s stomach to twist in anxious protest.
Alas, there was no escape. Lady Maeve had seized upon the invitation and insisted that Joy accompany her and would brook no excuses to cry off. The Dowager—whom would chaperone Joy and Maeve—had further decreed that the call must be made, for Lady Abernathy was ‘a woman of significant standing in Society, and it would be a monstrous breach of decorum to snub her.’ Such were the Dowager’s exact words, in addition to, ‘You must face this with your chin up, or ’twill only feed more gossip.’
Thus, Joy found herself in the plush carriage rattling its way towards Charles Street. She fiddled with a ruffle on her jonquil sprigged muslin gown, which was rather more decorative than she preferred. Lady Maeve sat beside her, wearing a stripedlawn dress of pale green and pink. The Dowager and Faith sat opposite.
