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Authors: Tracie Peterson

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #General, #Religious

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BOOK: A Lady of High Regard
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“Whatever is wrong?” Mia whispered after the butler deposited them in a lavish drawing room.


This
is wrong. I do not wish to have you play matchmaker for me.”

“Why did you not say so before now?” She asked, her eyes wide and her expression one of innocent confusion.

Garrett laughed, almost having bought into her act. Mia immediately smiled and gave his arm a pat. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

“I wonder if this overindulgent room is Mrs. Custiss’s doing or something she inherited from her late husband.”

Mia shrugged. “It is a bit . . . well . . . much.”

He thought that an understatement. There were dozens of gold-framed paintings, both landscapes and portraits, hanging on the wall. Ionic columns in white Italian marble lined the doorway and entrance into yet another room. An étagère graced each corner of the room in three-tiered splendor. Done in what appeared to be bronze and granite, each shelf held a copious collection of bric-a-brac, easily recognizable as expensive and no doubt one of a kind. Along with this were several pieces of furniture covered in red and gold, while crystal and porcelain figurines decorated a white marble mantel above the fireplace.

The door they’d come through finally opened to reveal a petite woman. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting overmuch.” She swept into the room gowned in a heavy plum-colored satin. She turned to Mia. “This does seem rather awkward, for I barely know you, and have never even met Mr. Wilson.”

“Which we shall remedy immediately,” Mia said, appearing not in the leastwise bothered by the woman’s frank statement.

“Mrs. Custiss, may I present my dearest friend, Mr. Wilson. Mr. Wilson, this is Mrs. Custiss.”

Garrett gave a little bow while Mrs. Custiss curtsied. She neither offered him her hand, nor did he attempt to take it. She smiled in a demure way as she raised her flushed face to meet his gaze.

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,” she announced. “I have very much looked forward to this evening.”

Garrett nodded. “I hope the evening will not disappoint, Mrs. Custiss.” He couldn’t very well lie and tell her he’d looked forward to their time together.

“We’d best be on our way,” Mia declared. “We shouldn’t be too late.”

“I do hope the weather holds,” Mrs. Custiss said as she led the party to the door. “I never care to be outdoors in the rain.”

“I am certain we can all agree with that,” Garrett said, casting a quick glance over his shoulder at Mia.

“Please be mindful of Mr. Custiss. He paid a great deal to have that bust commissioned. It was completed shortly before he died.” Mrs. Custiss took her bonnet from the butler. “The pedestal was also very costly. Mr. Custiss would have only the very best, of course.”

“Of course,” Mia said, sweeping past Garrett toward the door. “Oh look, the weather is still most pleasant. In fact, I think the clouds are clearing.”

Garrett helped both women into the carriage, positioning them on one side before taking his own seat opposite. He could only hope that Mrs. Custiss might prove more companionable when they reached the party.

“I can see that your gown is of the finest silk,” Mrs. Custiss said.

Garrett sensed the inappropriate remark made Mia uncomfortable, but true to nature the younger woman held her own. “I have a wonderful seamstress who recognizes quality. And, might I say, your gown is quite lovely.”

“But of course. I only wear the best. Most of my gowns were designed in Paris. I absolutely despise gowns made by common seamstresses here in America. I’m surprised that your gown is as fashionable, given that it’s locally made.”

Mia rolled her eyes, causing Garrett to laugh. He covered his mistake by turning away to cough. Mrs. Custiss had no idea how uncomfortable it could be to deal with an irate Mia.

“I find most Americans lack social grace and consideration of fashion and style. I am certain to put most women to shame.”

“That is where you are wrong, Mrs. Custiss,” Garrett said before Mia could respond. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised to find our friends exceedingly well dressed and up to date with their fashions.”

Mrs. Custiss arched a brow and stared at Garrett in disbelief. “I think not. Mr. Custiss often told me I was a better judge of such things than most. People of old money are generally more knowledgeable than people who have merely earned their fortune.”

Garrett was speechless. He’d never met such an obnoxiously opinionated women. Mia was doing a good job keeping her thoughts to herself, but Garrett knew it wasn’t coming without extreme effort.

“And how is your son?” Mia asked, changing the subject.

“My Sheldon is the brightest of all the students in his exclusive school. I have him boarded at the Preston Academy in New York. Of course you know of it.”

Mia shook her head. “No, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of it.” Mrs. Custiss could not have appeared more shocked had Mia suggested she had no knowledge of George Washington.

Garrett wanted to burst out laughing again, but instead turned and coughed quietly into his gloved fist.

“Mr. Wilson, you seem to be of a particularly weak constitution. Your lack of health concerns me greatly. I could not expose my Sheldon to such a person.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the trio, but even this was better than listening to Mrs. Custiss prattle on about her money. He felt a great sense of relief when the driver pulled up to the Overtons’ mansion.

“This isn’t the most fashionable address,” Mrs. Custiss stated as she allowed Garrett to help her from the carriage. “The Overtons really should move. I shall explain the matter to Mrs. Overton tonight. I’m certain she’ll see things my way.”

“The Overtons have lived in this house for four generations,” Mia declared rather angrily as she stepped from the carriage. “I do not believe the location is as important as the connection to family. I would appreciate it if you didn’t upset Mrs. Overton with such silly notions.”

Mrs. Custiss seemed completely unmoved. “My dear, you are only a child. I am a grown woman—a widow with a child. You cannot possibly understand the importance of such things.” She looked to Garrett and smiled. “I’m sure it quite escapes her, do you not agree?”

Mia looked at Garrett and bit her lip. It was clear that she had taken just about all she could take. “Mrs. Custiss,” Garrett said, offering his arm, “I believe it would be best for us to join the others and get you out of the night air. I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.”

Mia followed after them, and while she didn’t say a word, Garrett could feel her glare burning into the back of his head. It was going to be a very long evening.

Mia kept her distance from the very rude Mrs. Custiss throughout the evening. She could scarcely believe the things the woman had said. Mia had never known anyone so rude.

Moving in and out of the crowd, Mia shared conversation with her friends, avoiding any comments about Mrs. Custiss. It was most difficult not to share every detail of their earlier conversation, but Mia knew it would only perpetuate her anger.

“I saw you dancing with several handsome young men,” Mia’s father said as he joined her. “I was hoping you might allow me the same opportunity.”

Mia offered him a smile. “But of course. I would much rather spend time with you, Father.” She allowed him to draw her into the dance.

“But that will really do you little good in finding a husband.”

“You have to be looking for a husband to find one,” Mia teased. “Besides, I have no need of a husband. I have a most wonderful father who sees to my every need. And he indulges and spoils me.”

“I have a feeling your husband would be happy to indulge and spoil you, my dear. You merely have to give a man a chance.”

Mia sobered. “You sound serious.”

“But of course I’m serious. You are four and twenty. Your mother worries about it incessantly. With both of your younger sisters already married, she fears you will be considered less desirable. I hardly believe that is a risk, but you know how your mother worries.”

“Mother would worry whether I was married or spinstered for all of my life.”

“Do you not desire marriage?”

Mia allowed her father to whirl her several times through the partnered dancers before replying. “I would enjoy being married. I would like to have a husband and one day to give him children. But in all honesty, I would prefer to marry for love rather than mere compatibility or convenience.”

“But compatibility will take you far. Such a strong basis will surely lead to love in its own right.”

“Perhaps, but I’ve not even found anyone with whom I feel compatible. Most men do not understand my desire to help better our society. They would never tolerate my work with
Godey’s.

Her father frowned and grew thoughtful as the music drew to a close. “Mia, walk with me for a moment.”

She could see he was troubled. “Are you all right, Father?”

“For myself, I am fine. But, Mia, I do worry about you. Working at a position, even one such as
Godey’s,
is hardly what I desire for my daughter. It has been hard to allow you this indulgence. Quite often, I consider whether I would be wiser to alter the situation.”

“But, Father, you know how much it means to me.” Mia knew she couldn’t make a scene, but she desperately needed her father to understand. She drew him into a quiet corner. “Please don’t take this away from me. I feel certain I can make a difference.”

“I would rather you make a marriage . . . and grandchildren,” he said, laughing.

“Ann has that matter already under control,” Mia countered with a smile. “Surely Sally will soon follow suit, as she has never been one to allow Ann to best her.”

“True enough, but . . . well, that is to say . . .” He looked into Mia’s eyes. “I’m not that young anymore. I worry about providing for you—not leaving you alone in this world. There will of course be an inheritance for you and your sisters, but when I am gone there will be no one to offer you protection and counsel. I would like to believe that your husband could do both.”

“You are going to be able to do the job for a long, long time to come. Do not worry me with threats of your mortality.”

“We all die sometime, Mia. I’m not trying to worry you; I do, however, want to show you the logic behind my concerns.”

“Dear Father,” Mia said, gently touching his cheek, “I promise you I will not avoid potential suitors. Truly. I will pray that God will show me just the right man—at just the right moment.”

“Mia?”

She looked up to find Garrett at her shoulder. “Has Mrs. Custiss decided your money too new for her taste?” she asked with a smile. “Or perhaps you aren’t dressed smart enough.”

Garrett laughed. “Neither is the case, unfortunately. I’ve come to see if you might dance with me in order to give me some relief from her tiresome tirades of how much money she spent on her new rug and draperies in the music room.”

Mia laughed and kissed her father on the cheek. “You do not mind, do you, Father?”

“Not at all, my dear. Go and have a good time. Just remember what I mentioned.”

“I promise to consider it.”

“Consider what?” Garrett asked as he led her away.

“My father believes I need a husband.”

“And what do you believe, Miss Stanley?”

She smiled coyly and took Garrett’s hand. “I believe God has the matter completely under control. If He has a husband for me, then He’ll surely reveal the man to me.”

Garrett tightened his grip. “Perhaps He already has.”

Mia considered this for a moment. “Maybe, but I have my doubts.”

“Why is that?”

She shrugged as best she could. “Because no one has asked for my hand.”

CHAPTER 5


L
ast night was an absolute disaster,” Garrett said, putting sugar in his tea.

“Yes, and I do apologize. Mrs. Custiss had seemed so well mannered when I met her. Of course, her mother and mine were both present, so perhaps she felt she couldn’t be quite as forward.”

“Perhaps.” Garrett stirred his tea and looked up to offer Mia a smile. “But at least it’s behind us.”

BOOK: A Lady of High Regard
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