Page 24 of Long Live the Baron
Brendan had resolved himself to one day marry a woman of his own choice, one he would cherish. Somehow, he would know her when he met her. Know that she was the perfect woman for him. She would make him forget the widows of his past and remind him what it was to be loved unconditionally in the manner that his mother had loved him before her untimely death more than ten years earlier.
Yet, here he stood, ready to enter the Abbott household and make an offer for a young chit whom he barely knew. A child.
Brendan did not want to be a man who said his vows and then philandered around London, as many members of thetondid. But how was he to make a marriage with a veritable stranger who was barely out of the schoolroom?
It was his worst nightmare. He had evaded the baron to ensure he would not be forced down this path. The old man would have been ecstatic to learn that Brendan was to marry the daughter of a wealthy and powerful viscount, a step above the two of them in rank. It was galling to contemplate Josiah Ridley’s glee if he had been here to witness Brendan’s descent into propriety and ascent in social status.
It had been several days since he had found the baron on the floor of his study, with sleepless nights to make his temples throb. His eyes were gritty from the lack of rest, and his chest tight from being forced down this path.
Steeling himself, he donned his beaver and approached the door, resolutely raising the brass ring to bring it down in a loud knock.
A tall footman answered the door and accepted his card. Peering down at it, the polite expression receded. “Mr. Ridley.”
It was a statement, not a question, and there was no mistaking the hard look the servant threw at him. Brendan had always made a point of getting along with servants, something his mother had instilled in him. This one was not receptive to the friendly smile he attempted. The servants here must be loyal to the household, and it was clear that knowledge of Miss Abbott’s circumstances had made its way belowstairs.
“I will see if Lord Moreland will receive you.”
Brendan winced at the tone. Clearly, the man was not concerned that Brendan would complain to Lord Moreland about his behavior, casting a scathing glance back over his shoulder as he walked down the hall.
When Brendan was finally shown into the viscount’s study, he noticed the elegant quality of the room. Overt signs of wealth were not on display, but the exquisite furnishings could only be Chippendales and the wood panels cladding the walls were of fine quality indeed.
Lord Moreland rose from behind his mahogany desk to greet him, gesturing for Brendan to take a seat. “I confess I am relieved you are here, Ridley. My daughter has taken an extraordinary risk to see to your freedom, and I hope you appreciate her sacrifice.”
Brendan nodded. “I am here to discuss terms of marriage.”
The older man’s forehead puckered. “Marriage? Lily must accept your offer before we can discuss terms.”
The throbbing in Brendan’s temples was at a fever pitch, and it took him a few seconds to comprehend what the viscount had said. “Surely she has no choice, given the circumstances?”
Moreland was a large man, tall with wide shoulders, dressed in conservative but expensive clothing. He had a handsome, square face and a calm manner, but his face firmed at Brendan’s question. “I appreciate you are here, and taking steps to correct this situation. However, I want to be clear about this—my daughter has bravely acted on your behalf, and she enjoys the full support of our family. It is her choice whether she wishes to proceed with a wedding.”
Brendan lifted a hand, no longer able to ignore the pounding at his right temple. Besides being a child barely out of the schoolroom, apparently the chit was spoilt by a doting father.
Perfect! Not only a bride I did not wish for, but an interfering family to contend with.
At this point, he could safely claim that this was the worst week of his life. Worse than the week his mother had died, leaving him and Annabel to the baron’s discompassionate mercies. This was the week he had been accused of patricide, and now was forced to wed a girl he did not know with an idolizing family in the wings.
“Do I have your permission to speak with her, then?”
“I am looking into you, Ridley, but I am not pleased with what I know thus far. Your history with your father does not demonstrate honor in regards to one’s blood.”
Brendan’s breath hitched, and he had to calm himself. “That was the baron’s choice, my lord. He sent me to London and bade me never to return to Somerset.”
Lord Moreland’s face softened. “Your father is the cause of the estrangement?”
Father! Huh!
“Yes, my lord.”
“That is something, I suppose. However, any man who visits the widow Slight would be a cause of concern for me. It is hardly the action of an honorable man.”
Brendan gritted his teeth as the throbbing in his temples ratcheted up. The irony that he was defending his right to marry a girl whom he did not know was not lost on him as he sought a response. Many fathers of thetonwould not care, as the late baron had made clear when Brendan’s sister had once found her former betrothedin flagrante delicto. But Lord Moreland apparently had strong thoughts on the subject of fidelity.
“The actions of an unwed gentleman, I assure you. I have no plans to continue with Lady Slight if—when—I am wed.” Brendan had caught himself, but Moreland cast him a baleful eye at the slip. Truthfully, he wished he could visit Harriet, but he would not do so if he were to marry. Had the widow heard of his predicament? Perhaps not. Perhaps she would have stepped forward to save his neck if it had come to that.
Moreland stood up. “It does not signify. Lily is aware of your affair, so it is for her to reach a decision if she wishes to proceed with a wedding. I trust my daughter, and since she thinks you are worthy of her intervention, then I will allow you to speak with her to come to terms. Thomas will show you to the drawing room.”
The viscount rang a bell, and behind him the door opened. Brendan took to his feet, wondering why an established man like Moreland would think that a young girl barely out of pigtails could make such an important decision regarding her future. Brendan could hardly comprehend how Miss Abbott had made her way to visit the coroner in the first place.
