Page 99 of The Earl Takes All
“Can’t say I blame him. Daughters tend to wrap themselves around our hearts so easily. I mentioned to Greyling a bill I’m working on that is designed to better protect infants. He made some rather good observations, and I have the impression he’s willing to work on it with me. Perhaps sometime soon we could get together for dinner. I won’t talk politics during the meal, but I’m not adverse to getting a man’s opinion over port.”
Edward told her things had gone well in Parliament but he hadn’t shared any specifics. For him to be working on a bill with one of the most powerful men in Great Britain was certainly worth mentioning, would elevate his status and good opinion among his peers. Not that the Earl of Greyling required any elevating, but after listening to those silly girls earlier, she wanted Edward to stand out on his own, to stand apart from the title, even though no one would realize he was Edward. She felt as though she were spinning in circles, that she couldn’t quite grasp what was and what should be.
What she did become incredibly aware of, however, was that the duke was waiting for an acknowledgment to his earlier comment. One did not require dukes to wait while she sorted out her thoughts. “We would be most delighted to dine with you and your wife.”
“You’ll no doubt receive an invitation in the next few days. Protecting children is a passion of ours. I’m looking forward to working with Greyling. Through our combined efforts, I’ve no doubt we can make an incredible difference. Please forgive my rudeness in not immediately offering my condolences on the death of Mr.Alcott. The loss of one so young is always a tragedy.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. I appreciate your kindness.”
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I must find my wife. I believe her next dance belongs to me.”
As he walked away, she couldn’t help but think that it would be Edward helping him to make an incredible difference, but he would receive no credit for it because people thought he was in a grave. He’d settled for a life of never being recognized, in order to have her as his wife. As much as she wished it so, as easy as it had been to live this life while they were in residence in the country, here she was finding it extremely difficult to hold onto the illusion that she was his wife. Here there were constant reminders that she alone might be the only person who knew the true worth of the present Earl of Greyling. One of the few who knew that the seventh earl had died and the eighth actually now held the title.
In the refreshment room, a table was spread out with an assortment of dishes, yet none of the offerings appealed to her. The champagne didn’t satisfy as it once had. As soon as they returned home, she would have a brandy. She was standing by the window looking for a moment of quiet reflection, instead seeing her own reflection in the glass, not certain she even recognized herself any longer, when Lady Newcomb arrived in a swath of pink taffeta and the cloying fragrance of lavender left too long in a bottle.
“Lady Greyling, I’m so glad to see you came to London for the Season. What with Mr.Alcott’s passing and all I wasn’t certain if you would make your way here. An accident out in the wilds, wasn’t it?”
She would wager her monthly allowance that the woman knew exactly how he had died, but Lady Newcomb tended to fancy her own cleverness at saying one thing while conveying something else. Simple condolences were all that were required, not dredging up the unfortunate circumstances of one’s death. “Yes, unfortunately, untamed beasts are not to be trusted.”
“Ever so glad it wasn’t Greyling.”
“I would have preferred it not be either brother.”
“Of course, of course, but you must be thanking your lucky stars that it wasn’t your husband. I daresay that man was an absolute godsend to the female population, the most upstanding of those hellions, setting an example for them. How fortunate you were to snag him.”
Only ithad beenher husband, and she had to stand here and talk with this woman as though it hadn’t been. “I’ve always considered myself blessed.”
“I know one isn’t supposed to speak ill of the dead, but if one of the brothers had to go, the right one did.”
Her words were a punch to gut. Julia could barely draw in a breath. She wanted to shake the woman. “Why would you say such a horrid thing?”
“My dear, I’m merely speaking what so many are thinking. I daresay many a mama is quite relieved that she doesn’t have to keep quite as close an eye on her daughter this Season. It was only a matter of time before he ruined one of them.”
“Edward didn’t take advantage of proper ladies, so I don’t see how he could have ruined one. But if he did give in to temptation, he would have done right by her.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. He was all about the chase, not the capture. I dealt with many a such scoundrel in my youth.”
“You’re mistaken. He was a good, honorable man.”
Lady Newcomb shook her head, her jowls quivering. “Well, the argument can hardly be proven one way or the other now. He was a man who failed to leave a mark. A sad state of affairs was his life. Even his obituary said so. If you’ll excuse me—”
It was all Julia could do not to stick out her foot and trip the beastly woman. How dare Lady Newcomb assume to know Edward at all! How dare the ladies be gossiping so unkindly about him? She hated it, hated what people said, thinking that circumstances were different than they were, thinking they were talking about a dead brother when they were, in fact, talking about one who was very much alive.
Fresh air. She required fresh air. Opening the doors to the terrace, she stepped out, walked to the railing and closed her gloved hands around it. She drew in a deep breath, striving to clear her mind of all the unkind thoughts that had been voiced tonight. She had an insane need to recall the words of his obituary. She’d barely given it a passing glance. What was the wording?
Failed to accomplish anything of note...
Why did those who wrote obituaries feel compelled to point out perceived shortcomings? She recalled a notable poet’s obituary a few years back mentioning that the world would have been better served if the man had never taken pen to paper. They tried to be so damned clever. And they were wrong.
She had enjoyed the poet’s works. And Edward had not failed to accomplish anything of note. He had traveled the world, scaled mountains, explored remote regions. He had led expeditions, seen things, experienced things that few people did. He had shared his adventures, entertaining people with his tales. He had separated himself from his brother in order to ensure that he did not interfere with the relationship that existed between herself and Albert. He’d been a loving brother, and in retrospect a loving brother-by-marriage, even if he had gone about his endeavors in a rather unfortunate way, with drinking, carousing, obnoxiousness. But his intentions had been well-intentioned.
At great cost to himself, Edward had honored a vow he made to his brother. He’d helped her bring her daughter into the world. He was caring for that child with all the love her father would have given her. He was going to work with a duke to bring about changes in English law. That was only the beginning of what he might accomplish. Who knew how far he might go—as Albert, the Earl of Greyling.
It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. And she knew with every fiber of her being that they’d made a terrible mistake.
Chapter 24
Edwardhad planned to play only a hand or two but he was having such amazingly good fortune that it was incredibly difficult to push back his chair, bid the gentlemen good-night, and walk away. He’d never spent much time in the ballrooms because he wasn’t one to lead ladies on regarding his attentions. He never danced with the wallflowers, as he didn’t want to give them hope that he could make them blossom, which left those who saw themselves as excellent marriage prospects, and he’d never been in the mood to go prospecting.
