His Impassioned Proposal (The Bridgethorpe Brides) (3 page)

BOOK: His Impassioned Proposal (The Bridgethorpe Brides)
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Knightwick shook his head, his lips drawing into a grimace of distaste. “This is what fighting under Wellesley has taught you? Turn tail and run at the first battle? I believe you might be right. She deserves better.”

David jumped to his feet. “Go easy on him, Knightwick. We have no idea what he experienced on the Continent. Not all scars are visible. Besides, the man just lost his parents. He deserves better than your judgment.”

Returning to his feeble attempt at tying his cravat, Stephen clenched his jaw. “I don’t want your pity, or anyone else’s.”

David looked more wounded than chagrined. “Forgive me for having a heart. It was kindly meant. I can’t imagine how I would feel having lost Mother and Father together. And I have brothers and sisters to ease the loss.”

Now Knightwick jumped to his defense. “And Stephen has all of us.”

“I realize that, but it’s not—”


Enough
.” Stephen decided cravat would suffice, sloppy as it was. He turned on his cousins while tugging on his coat of superfine wool. “Yes, I have you all, and I know I am not alone. But I’m sure you’ll understand that I need to be alone with my thoughts before I go see Miss Marwick.”

“Of course.” David walked to the door.

“Wait,” Stephen called.

The brothers paused.

“I came for Sir Bedivere. I thought to have one of your father’s lads return the hack I rode here, and I would ride Bedivere home.”

“You can’t,” David said.

“He’s not here,” Knightwick added.

Stephen tried to comprehend. “My horse is gone? Oh, you have been racing him, have you, while I was off in battle?”

“Of course not.” Knightwick waved an arm as if shedding light on an obvious answer. “I can’t enter a horse I don’t own. But we didn’t need to race him. Those few race meetings you entered before you left were enough to make his name. We used him a few times in our stud and others began asking to have him cover their mares.”

“You used him in the stud. Without even writing me to tell me so?”

Knightwick crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t recall that dramatic scene you created before climbing into your father’s carriage, on your way to battle? ‘Take good care of him, Knightwick. If I don’t return, he is yours.’”

“Yes, well, I was a bit distracted at the time. Still, you could have asked if I wanted him used so.”

“By the time a letter would have arrived with your response, the mares in question would have been out of season.” Knightwick shook his head, an incredulous expression on his face. “We’ve saved the stud fees for you. At the time, we thought you might wish to start a stud farm of your own when you returned.”

Stephen let his head hang, suddenly reminded of what lay ahead. “I imagine the funds you’ve collected won’t cover all the repairs the house will require, but I am grateful for your thoughtful planning.”

David opened the door, and Knightwick turned to leave. “Shall I have Cook send up some coffee, or breakfast?”

Stephen shook his head. “I will go below and see if anything remains in the dining room. No need to trouble Cook on my account.”

“Very well. Will you let me know when you return from Darley Hall?”

“I plan to continue from there to Larkspur Cottage. I need to see what is left of my home.”

“We can accompany you, if you wish,” Knightwick said softly.

“Thank you, no. I will return to Bridgethorpe as soon as I am able and inform you of the state of the house. The sooner I find out what I have ahead of me, the sooner I can begin to put it behind me.”

Before Stephen had even decided if his stomach would tolerate food, a gentle knock came on the door of his bedchamber. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Hannah standing there. “May I speak with you?” she asked.

“Of course.” He motioned for her to enter and led the way to the two small chairs in the far corner. He stood in front of the one to the left, so the undamaged side of his face was to his cousin, and waited for her to sit before doing so himself. “I must warn you, your brothers have already taken me to task.”

“I knew they would.” Hannah shook her head, a gentle expression softening her normally laughing eyes. “I am not here to chastise. I’m certain you are doing enough of that, yourself.”

He nodded, but returned his gaze to the small fire burning in the fireplace nearby. He was in no mood to discuss the situation with her any more than he had with her brothers. He was still somewhat numb from the news of the previous day, and wrung out from the combination of traveling more quickly than he ought to have and drowning his thoughts with liquor.

From the corner of his vision he saw Hannah draw her shoulders back as if bracing herself for what she was about to say.

“Jane is quite hopelessly in love with you.”

Surprised, Stephen turned to read her expression, certain he must have misunderstood. “Beg pardon?”

“Well, she was, you know. Quite beyond smitten. Her mother tried to dissuade her attentions when you didn’t come home last year. They held several small house parties over the summer, but even before news came of your injuries, Jane would have none of the matchmaking attempts.”

Chewing on the inside of his right cheek, he acknowledged silently he expected nothing less. They had an understanding, even if it had been unspoken. “That is just like her, not to listen to wiser counsel.”

Hannah’s head tipped to one side as she frowned. “You no longer have an attachment for her?”

“I cannot think about marriage right now. Aside from mourning, I have no home, no life to offer to share with my wife. I can’t ask Jane to continue to wait. I never truly asked her to wait, although I always hoped she would. But there are so many things to do before I can speak of marriage.”

Hannah snorted rudely. “You should have considered that before speaking to her last night.”

He fought to keep from smiling. Oddly, her derisive noise comforted him. It was good to be amongst family. “I don’t recall my thoughts getting past ‘my life is over’, last night. And that was long before Jane came into the library.”

“As you say, there are other matters to attend. Are you traveling to Larkspur Cottage today?”

“Yes, I only stopped here to collect Sir Bedivere.”

“He’s not here.”

“Yes, so I discovered. It appears the old boy has been covering mares—forgive me, Hannah. I forget sometimes you are a lady.”

She snorted again and lifted her pert little chin. “I beg your pardon. When did I not act like a lady?”

Memories of the girl she’d been flashed through his mind and he laughed. “You were eleven years old when I left. You continually escaped Nanny Griswold and followed us into the stables. I must say, your mother must be very relieved when she looks upon you now.”

Her cheeks darkened most becomingly and her eyelids lowered. Knightwick and David would be fighting off rakehells and rapscallions in another year when Hannah went to London. Or would she be presented at court in the spring? He was grateful not to have to accompany her to London, or he’d be scrutinizing her beaux as thoroughly as her brothers and father.

Thinking of Bridgethorpe, Stephen asked, “Has your father improved in spirits? Or, had he, before the loss of his brother? You wrote to me about Zephyr’s disappearance, but said nothing of it in the past year.”

She lowered her head, and her hands fidgeted with the folds of her skirt. “My father is not the man he used to be.”

He expected her to continue, but she didn’t. “I am sorry to hear that.” Perhaps Knightwick would have more to say about the loss of their prize stud horse. Once Stephen was settled, he’d enquire.

Hannah suddenly brightened into her normal self, making him wonder how much of her daily cheerfulness was skillfully practiced. “But you are home and we are glad of it. We must plan what you need to do. You’ll need a place to stay while you repair your home.”

“You are assuming there is enough still standing to repair.”

She offered him a look that showed maturity beyond her seventeen years. “No, I am assuming you will do whatever is necessary to make Larkspur Cottage what it once was.” She spoke as if it was the family seat, an ancestral hall passed from father to son.

“Father bought Larkspur when he married. It’s not like Bridgethorpe Manor, where generations of Lumleys have resided.”

“No, but it has been someone’s home since it was built. It’s the home you were born in. The one where your children will be born.”

“Children,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to the carpet as his mind wandered to dreams past.

“Of course. I’m told they come naturally after the wedding vows.”

He caught her coy smile. Yes, her brothers were in for a devil of a Season. Something in her light air kept him from sinking into himself again at the thought of providing for a family, with his injuries. But he should put aside such worries until after he spoke to his father’s solicitor later in the week.

Chapter Three

Riding a horse borrowed from his uncle’s stables, Stephen trotted up to Darley Hall much too early for morning calls. He hoped Sir Peregrine Marwick would forgive him. As he planned to continue on to Larkspur, he wished to arrive there with enough daylight to survey the damage.

The butler greeted him with a small, uncharacteristic smile of welcome. “Mr. Lumley. It is good to have you home again, sir. May I offer condolences on your loss?”

“Thank you, Akins.” Stephen stepped into the chilly, open hallway when Akins swung the door wide. “Is Miss Marwick receiving this morning? And I suppose I should speak with Sir Perry first.”

“I shall enquire after both, sir. Will you wait in the library?”

Stephen nodded and followed the old man. Jane had no brothers and sisters, so Stephen hadn’t spent an inordinate amount of time here growing up, but the two families were close and often entertained each other. Certain the entire staff of Darley Hall knew of the expectation of marriage between himself and Jane, he was equally certain they all knew of his unforgivable gaffe the previous night. Word traveled faster among servants than between the gossipmongers of the Upper Ten Thousand during the Season.

He paced the dark library as his gut clenched and unclenched. The curtains were open but the sun didn’t hit this side of the house so early in the day. The room was resultantly more peaceful, but still not enough to settle his nervous stomach. Of course, the liquor from last night was most likely the largest contributor to his distress.

The door opened with a soft click. Stephen watched Jane’s father enter and tried to read his expression, but the man was too well-schooled to let his emotions show. “Good morning, Sir Perry.”

“Morning, Stephen. You look much recovered.” He motioned to one of the upholstered wing chairs facing his desk. “Sit.”

Stephen hadn’t forgotten how shrift the man’s conversations were, and six years passage hadn’t changed that. “Thank you, sir.”

Once the elder man was comfortable, Stephen began. “I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

Sir Perry frowned. “I expected your call, but am of two minds why you would come.”

“Well, yes, I suppose there could be another reason, but I am here to apologize. If I could take back the events of last night, I would.”

“Words prettily spoken, but one can’t undo what has been done. Question is, what do you intend to do about it?”

Stephen ran his right hand through his hair, which only tangled in the ribbon holding on his eye patch. As he quickly tried to neaten the mess, his frustration with his body built. The scars on his left cheek burned until he was certain they glowed like banked coals. “As you can see, sir, I am not fully recovered from my injuries. I do wish to marry Jane, but only if I can take care of her properly. I wish for her to be a wife, not a nursemaid.”

Sir Perry leaned back in his chair. “I think you’ve got the wrong of it, my boy. You rode home from wherever they discharged you, isn’t that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You dressed yourself this morning and rode here again. And you plan to ride to Larkspur Cottage?”

What was the man getting at? There was more to life than being able to ride a horse, in spite of what a breeder might believe. “Yes, Sir Perry. I am able to ride a horse. I do not need two good eyes for that, or perfect hearing. But I tire much too quickly, and when my head begins to ring like I’m standing in the church tower, I cannot think straight to save my life. How will I be able to run the farm? Supervise the tenant farmers?”

“Time will improve your strength, as would working the land. But, this bit about the farmers—surely your father discussed his business dealings with you while you were away?”

“No, sir. My mother only wrote of how the family got on, my cousins and all. My father never wrote.”

“I advise you to speak to his man of business, straight on. I don’t know the whole of it, but he mentioned to me his investment in mills in Yorkshire. He sold much of the farmland to raise capital. I believe one of your uncles was involved.”

“My father sold his land?”

“Not all of it. And I don’t know how the investment paid off. I didn’t join him in the deal. I enjoy my horses too much to consider putting my money elsewhere.”

“Thank you, Sir Perry. I plan to travel to London first thing to speak to the solicitor.” This additional news just added to the confused thoughts filtering through the cotton wadding that filled his head. Was Stephen a rich man, or broke? Did he even have the funds to rebuild his home? It seemed the closer he got to Larkspur Cottage, the more upheaval he found.

“Now, then,” Sir Perry began. “What are your plans where my daughter is concerned? Her mother intends to take her to London in March. Lady Marwick fears the girl will be on the shelf from waiting for you.”

“As I said, I have business to settle first, but then I hope to marry Jane. If she’ll still have me.”

“There’s the rub. The home, your injuries, where your money comes from, none of that matters if you have injured her beyond repair.”

Stephen’s eyelids flared. Was it that bad? “Do you think she won’t want me, after the way I proposed?”

“One never can tell with young ladies, my boy. The way Lady Marwick tells it, you must convince yourself you are worthy of her, before you can convince Jane. You have a rough road ahead of you. And you need to gain her affections before Lady Marwick begins packing for London, or you’ll be competing with all those young bucks in Town.”

BOOK: His Impassioned Proposal (The Bridgethorpe Brides)
4.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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