Page 9 of The Widow's Scandalous Gentleman
“From individuals whose social standing and moral character lend considerable weight to their observations,” he replied at last, stiffly. “Though naturally, discretion forbids me from revealing their identities without due regard for their privacy and safety.”
“Safety?” Lord Jasper’s eyebrows rose with explicit interest in this unexpected revelation. “Are you suggesting that expressing concerns about Lady Greaves’s establishment involves some element of personal risk to those who choose to do so?”
“Not physical risk, naturally,” Marcus replied with irritation at having his dramatic language subjected to such literal interpretation, “but social risk, for there are those who might view criticism of my sister’s arrangements as interference in matters that should remain private family concerns.”
“I confess myself curious about the specific nature of these alleged concerns,” Thalia said with deceptive calm, “for I have endeavoured to maintain the highest standards of propriety and moral conduct in all aspects of my establishment’s operation, and I find it difficult to imagine what legitimate criticisms could be levelled against such careful attention to respectability and proper behaviour.”
Marcus drew himself up with the pompous dignity that had grated on her nerves since childhood, clearly preparing to deliver what he regarded as a devastating indictment—one, no doubt, rehearsed during his journey.
“Very well,” he said with a note of grim satisfaction. “Since you insist upon hearing the specific charges brought to my attention, I shall endeavour to explain the situation with the clarity and precision it demands.”
He paused—rather theatrically, Thalia thought—before launching into what was evidently a carefully ordered litany of grievances.
“First,” he began, in the deliberate tone of a man cataloguing offences, “you have chosen to reside in a household that accommodates unmarried men and women under the same roof. Such an arrangement, regardless of your intentions, creates an undeniable appearance of impropriety, one that reflects poorly not only upon your own reputation but upon that of our entire family.”
“Second, you have associated yourself with individuals of uncertain background and questionable suitability. Among them, a young woman whose deafness, I am told, has left her without the moral instruction necessary to navigate society properly, and a man whose theatrical occupation implies a disposition ill-suited to respectable company.”
Thalia felt her anger flare at this casual dismissal of her residents’ worth and character, though she forced herself to remain silent in order to hear the full extent of her brother’s criticism before formulating her response to such prejudiced and ignorant observations.
“Third,” Marcus went on, now visibly pleased with the momentum of his case, “you have declined the protection and guidance of male relatives who bear both the responsibility and the right to oversee your conduct—particularly in circumstances as unconventional as these.”
“And finally,” he concluded, with the air of delivering a final blow, “you have persisted in these arrangements despite repeated admonitions, thereby demonstrating a wilfulness and disregard for proper feminine conduct that risks bringing lasting disrepute to our family name.”
The silence that followed this comprehensive indictment seemed to stretch for an eternity, though in reality it lasted only long enough for Thalia to organise her thoughts and prepare a response that would address each of her brother’s accusations with the sort of devastating precision that such ignorant presumption richly deserved.
“I see,” she said finally, her voice carrying the sort of arctic calm that had once made seasoned diplomats reconsider their carefully prepared strategies, “and I suppose you have also prepared a detailed plan for correcting these alleged deficiencies in my character and judgment?”
“Indeed I have,” Marcus replied with unmistakable satisfaction. “I believe that an immediate betrothal to Mr Templeton, followed by the orderly dissolution of this unfortunate establishment and your return to a more conventional mode of living, will do much to restore the family’s reputation.”
“How thoughtful of you,” Thalia said, her tone deceptively mild, “to arrange the entirety of my future without the inconvenience of consulting me on the matter. I find myself curious—what timeline have you proposed for the execution of these... comprehensive reforms?”
“The sooner the better,” Marcus declared, clearly relishing his role as the architect of her redemption. “I have already informed Mr Templeton that you will be prepared to receive his formal proposal within the fortnight. I assured him that any minor complications regarding your current arrangements could be swiftly resolved once the betrothal is made public.”
“Within the fortnight?” Thalia repeated, her tone measured, her diction so precise it might have cut glass. It was the voice of a woman who could not quitebelieve the scale of what was being proposed—or perhaps, the arrogance with which it had been delivered.
“Indeed,” Marcus said, positively beaming. “There is little advantage in prolonging such an awkward situation when a solution has so conveniently presented itself. Lord Templeton has been most generous in his willingness to overlook your recent eccentricities, in favour of the advantages such an alliance would bring.”
Lord Jasper cleared his throat with the sort of polite deliberation that signalled a wish to speak, and both siblings turned toward him—Thalia with guarded curiosity, Marcus with the confidence of a man expecting his position to be reinforced.
“If I might offer an observation,” Lord Jasper began, his tone impeccably diplomatic, “I wonder whether Lord Berendon has fully considered the broader implications of dissolving an establishment that offers critical support to individuals whose artistic gifts might otherwise go undeveloped for want of guidance and patronage.”
“Implications?” Marcus gave a short laugh, full of dismissive amusement. “My dear Lord Jasper, surely you see that the comfort and reputation of a lady of breeding must take precedence over the convenience of a handful of eccentrics whose talents—however charming—cannot justify the irregularities their presence entails.”
“I fear I must disagree with your priorities,” Lord Jasper replied, his voice composed yet resolute. “Having seen the work being produced under Lady Greaves’s direction, I would argue that to dismantle such a place would be a genuine loss—not only to those within it, but to the wider artistic community, and, indeed, to society itself.”
Marcus blinked, clearly caught off guard by such resistance from a quarter he could neither patronise nor dismiss. Lord Jasper, it seemed, was not content to serve as a polite spectator.
“Moreover,” he continued, his tone sharpening ever so slightly, “I would suggest that any gentleman contemplating marriage to Lady Greaves would do well to value her accomplishments, rather than demand their abandonment. Such a condition speaks more to a failure to understand her character than to any concern for propriety.”
The words struck with startling force. Thalia turned to him, astonished—not only by his defence of her work, but by the simple conviction with which he had asserted her right to it.
“I fear you misunderstand the nature of proper feminine conduct,” Marcus replied with the sort of stiff dignity that suggested he found such criticism both unexpected and highly inappropriate. “A lady’s role lies in the cultivation ofdomestic harmony and adherence to social decorum—not in championing the interests of persons of uncertain background and questionable merit.”
“On the contrary,” Lord Jasper said, the quiet steel in his voice unmistakable, “I believe I understand precisely the difference between propriety and constraint. Lady Greaves has achieved something admirable here—not despite her position, but because of the intelligence and determination with which she has exercised it. To suppress such qualities would be to waste potential that might otherwise enrich us all.”
The silence that followed was dense with unspoken thoughts. Thalia’s heart beat fast—not with fear, but with something perilously close to hope. That Lord Jasper would stand with her was unexpected. That he might continue to do so, despite the consequences, was something she scarcely dared to imagine.
Chapter Four
