A Wedding in Springtime (17 page)

“I cannot be a bridegroom for Miss Talbot. Perhaps you can make my excuses,” suggested Marchford.

“I certainly cannot!” declared the dowager, placing a strainer over a teacup. “How would it look if Louisa were to come to dinner and you not be here? Besides, it will give you an opportunity to speak with her. A date must be set.” She poured the tea into the cup, straining away the tea leaves.

Marchford accepted a cup of tea from his grandmother and took a slow sip. “I recognize the understanding between Lady Louisa and the Duke of Marchford is of long standing, but even you must concede that the lady does not appear interested in the relationship. Would it be unacceptable to end the betrothal?”

“James!” The dowager clanked the teapot down on the table. “This marriage has been planned since before you were born. Louisa has been waiting for your return for three years. You cannot back out now. You are honor bound!”

“Even though the relationship would cause misery to the parties involved?”

“Misery? How could it cause misery unless you make it so? If you are displeased with the relationship, change it. Be charming. Crumpet?”

“Yes, please,” replied the duke, accepting the buttered crumpet. “She does not appear interested in my charm, such as it is.”

“What would you suggest? Can you imagine any situation in which you could honorably dissolve the understanding between you?”

Marchford took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. His posture diminished slightly, the only sign that he had been defeated. Penelope watched the pair of aristocrats from her vantage point over tea and cake. Although she was new to the dilemma, one thing was perfectly clear—it was not within Marchford’s power to end the contract.

“Have another slice of seed cake.” The dowager offered Marchford the platter. “I also had cook make some ham sandwiches. I know you often get hungry before dinner.”

Marchford accepted the sandwich but not without suspicion. “What is it you want?”

“Can I not offer refreshments without accusation? Are you going out this afternoon?”

“Yes, I am going with Grant to Tattersall’s. Our trip yesterday was postponed.”

“Good, then you won’t mind delivering this finalized guest list to Lady Bremerton.”

Marchford finished his tea. “I should have known I could not enjoy a ham sandwich without the expectation of repaying the favor.”

“I am merely giving you an excuse to visit Louisa. Did you not suggest you needed to charm her?”

“As you wish.” Marchford accepted the list.

“And another thing,” continued the dowager in a businesslike tone. “I was thinking about why Louisa might be put out. You know you have made her wait for marriage three long years. She is considerably past the age where most girls are wed. You need to make a formal announcement, set a date, and hold a ball to celebrate.”

Marchford eyed his meal. “That is a lot to ask for a sandwich.”

“James, it is time to commit.”

Marchford was spared making a reply by the announcement that Mr. Grant had arrived. Marchford bowed out of the room and met his friend in the foyer. Grant appeared less than his normal resplendent self. His hair was out of place, his cravat sadly crushed.

“I have been tasked to give this to Lady Bremerton. Would you mind stopping by on our way to Tatt’s?” asked Marchford.

Grant groaned.

“You mind telling me what is wrong?”

The men climbed onto Marchford’s curricle and Grant proceeded to tell him how he had acquired a child. The story was so remarkable, prompting Marchford to ask multiple questions, that Grant was unable to complete the tale before they arrived at the Bremerton household and were required to make an appearance.

Marchford discharged his duty, handing Lady Bremerton the guest list. Naturally they were invited to visit, and naturally they obliged. Despite the presence of Miss Talbot and Lady Louisa in the parlor, Lady Bremerton dominated the conversation. “I hear you are considering making some changes to your garden,” said Lady Bremerton.

Marchford acknowledged this was true.

“Why don’t you take a stroll through our garden, so you can get some ideas? Louisa has been instrumental in the placement of our new rose bushes.”

It was a clear ploy to get Marchford and Louisa to spend time together, but despite the apparent disinterest from either of the primary parties, the plan was accepted. Lady Bremerton bowed out of the excursion and so the young people went out into the garden.

The garden was quite beautiful with straight, manicured shrubs in neat lines and occasional rows of flowers, also neat and well manicured. After a few prods from Grant, Marchford took the hint and became more verbose, asking Louisa about the garden and describing his plans for his own garden expansion. Louisa responded infrequently, with hardly more than monosyllabic replies.

Genie and Grant held back to allow the betrothed time to foster their relationship, such as it was.

“I must thank you for encouraging Marchford to develop an acquaintance with his future wife,” said Genie when the dubious couple was out of hearing range.

“I believe the honor of this visit belongs to the scheming of the dowager duchess and Lady Bremerton.”

“Then I thank you for being one of the party. I am anxious to know how things are going with little Jem.”

Grant knew she would ask him and he was going to have to make a reply. He took her gloved hand and led her to a stone bench where they both sat down. He should release the dainty hand, but he did not, holding it loosely for fear he might crush her hand.

“Jem is quite a scamp. A more incurable heathen I have never met, which is saying quite a bit since I was educated at Eton,” added Grant.

Genie shook her head. “That is very bad. One can only hope he grows out of it.”

“Maybe he is growing. It would explain the appetite. Despite being fed here, he declared himself hungry and has been eating almost without ceasing. Must be hollow inside. He may beggar me on his board alone.”

“I do apologize for getting you into this predicament. I will certainly reimburse you for any expenses you incur in his upkeep.”

“Certainly not! Besides, the situation may be resolved, though perhaps not to your liking.”

“Has he caused any problems?”

Grant smiled. “My entire staff from the housekeeper to the cook threatened to quit if I did not find a new home for him.”

“Oh! That is very bad. Whatever did he do?”

“I put the lad in the charge of my housekeeper.”

Genie nodded in approval.

“Apparently, this morning, they tried to give him a bath.”

“Very reasonable,” said Genie in agreement. “He did appear to be in need of it.”

“He disagreed. A housemaid was bit, a footman has a black eye, and apparently the bath water was flung on François’s soufflé.”

“That is terribly bad!”

“Quite! You should have seen François. He brought me the soufflé, which had fallen something awful, and he was soaked through. The only one who did not take a bath today was Jem.” Despite the commotion it caused in his mother’s household, Grant could not think upon the incident without a smile.

Genie put her hands on her cheeks in an expression of dismay. “I am sorry I plagued you with such a child.”

“A plague! Yes, that is exactly what my housekeeper called him.”

“We shall definitely need to make better arrangements for him. Where is he now?”

“That is the part I fear will not please you. Jem took off running, with most of the staff in pursuit, destroying a vase in the process. Caused such a commotion I could not help but join in the fun. I chased the miscreant into the garden and over a hedge, but I fear I lost him.”

“You poor man! Well, that explains your cravat. I am very sorry.”

“Thank you for recognizing that the true victim here is me. I fear my cravat is a hopeless case.”

“You must let me at least reimburse you for the vase.”

“Oh no! Did us a favor there. My mother never liked it, but it was given to her as a wedding present by her mother-in-law. Been wanting it gone for years.”

“I am glad it was not of sentimental value.” Genie sighed. “I suppose we did our best. I felt sure I was being led to help this child, but I suppose we cannot help him if he will not allow it.”

“I’m sorry!” squeaked a small voice from under a nearby bush.

“Jem!”

Seventeen

Grant scanned the garden surrounding them, and poking out of a hedge was the red head of the errant Jem. His response was one of joy followed by disappointment with the sure knowledge that Genie would expect him to try again with the ruffian.

“Jemmy! Come here, you naughty boy!” called Genie and the lad obeyed, holding his head low and dragging his feet. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m awful sorry, miss. But they brought a giant scrub brush and said they’d scrub the skin offa me.”

“Jem, I do not believe they were trying to skin you alive. They just wanted to clean you.”

Jem shrugged bony shoulders. “Theys mean coves, miss. Could I not stay wi’ you? Yous right nice.”

“Well, thank you. But how did you get into Lord Bremerton’s garden?”

“Everyone starting yelling and kickn’ up a dust. Them be chasin’ me and howling something fierce. Put me all in a twitter!”

“So you ran back here?”

“Slipped through the garden gate. I ain’t no bigger than a bodkin.”

“You are resourceful,” said Genie. “But you cannot stay here. My aunt would never allow it. Mr. Grant has opened his home to you. You must be appreciative.”

“I am, miss. But could you stay with me too. You could come live wi’ Mr. Grant. Your aunt ain’t very nice. You wouldn’t miss her, I wager.”

“Jem, you must not speak that way of your betters,” chastised Genie.

“Even if it’s true,” muttered Grant. He surveyed the wide-eyed ruffian with a mixture of amusement and horror. “We can give it one more chance, little man,” said Grant. “But my mother will return in a fortnight and we will both be in the suds if she comes home to a household in chaos.”

“Will you come with me?” Jem looked up at Genie with large pathetic eyes.

“Oh, I do not think…”

“Certainly she can, but only for a little bit,” said Grant, snatching the opportunity. He felt very sure he was going to regret giving Jem a second chance and wanted to enjoy a little more time with Genie to make it worth his while.

“My aunt would never allow it,” whispered Genie to Grant.

“But I do not live far. In fact, unless I am very mistaken, our gardens are connected. Is that how you got here, Jem? Show us.”

Jem led them around large, sculpted shrubs and blooming hydrangeas to a small, forgotten gate behind a gardener’s shed. The hinges squeaked in complaint, but with a little muscle from Grant, the small gate swung open. It led into a small path with large hedges on either side. Coming around the corner, it opened into a lovely garden, full in bloom. Flowers were everywhere, blooming trees, lilacs, lilies, and roses. Genie came to a full stop at its beauty. Unlike the manicured precision of the Bremerton garden, this garden was more haphazard and whimsical. Sunlight broke through the clouds and a gentle breeze whispered through the trees, sending pink apple blossoms dancing through the air.

“It is beautiful,” breathed Genie. “This is your garden?”

Grant shrugged. “My mother and sisters had a free hand in this. My father and I stand aside when it comes to any sort of decorating, let the ladies fight it out.”

“They have done an amazing job. I would not mind spending days here. It reminds me of home.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Yes. I know it is impolitic to say, but I miss it very much. The spring is beautiful on the farm, so many things in bloom. Do you enjoy the country?”

“Always go for hunting season. My parents hold a house party with that intent each year.”

“Yes, but besides hunting, do you enjoy spending time at your estate?” asked Genie.

Grant had been raised on the family estate and had escaped female control as soon as he was able. He had not given it much thought other than London allowed him more amusements and ample freedom. “I suppose the country has its charms,” he said with a noncommittal shrug.

“Do you have a large estate?” asked Genie. “How many families are in your dependency?”

“I don’t know,” answered Grant. He left the family management to his father. Since Grant planned to leave no heir, he figured one of his nephews would have to learn the business of managing the estate.

A glance at Genie told him his answer had disappointed her. “We have two dozen families in our village,” said Genie. “I have always seen it as a privilege to be able to help serve them.”

Grant could think of no response. Serve his tenants? What an odd idea.

“What crops are you planting this year?” asked Genie.

“I could not begin to say,” answered Grant.

“I see.” Genie turned away to watch Jem run through the garden, but Grant knew he had diminished in her eyes. He wanted to defend himself that no one in polite society talked of anything so provincial as farming, yet he recognized that excuse would not serve in present company.

“I do love the country,” said Genie. “I know everyone expected my mother to be miserable, marrying beneath her station, but I believe she has enjoyed it a vast deal more than if she married the man intended for her.”

Lady Mary’s elopement was infamous. Of course, it was expected that since Genie’s mother turned her back on society, she would live an isolated and miserable life.

“They had picked a groom for her?” asked Grant, unable to keep his curiosity in check.

“Lord Bremerton,” said Genie with a poignant rise of her eyebrows.

“Oh! Well now. That’s awkward.”

“My aunt was married off to Lord Bremerton shortly after my mother left. I don’t think Aunt Cora has ever forgiven my mother for leaving her in that position. Though my mother has told me many times she had no idea her parents would marry her younger sister off to Bremerton if she left.”

“No, indeed!”

“My mother only wanted to live her life with the freedom to do as her conscience called her. She wanted to be able to live out her Christian ideals to tend the sick and help the needy. She has been able to serve our little community in a way she could not living within the strictures of society.”