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IN THE LIBRARY, JAMES and Louisa were completely oblivious to Julia’s fit of confusion outside the door as they enjoyed their first private conversation in, it seemed to James, the weeks since his proposal. As soon as the door had closed behind him, he strode over to the red Grecian-style sofa on which Louisa was seated.
He wondered what type of greeting would be proper in this situation. A man should be affectionate with his future wife, but he still felt the distance of unfamiliarity looming between them.
After the briefest of pauses, he caught up her hands in his and kissed first one, then the other. “Good morning, my dear. You look more beautiful than ever.”
This was no exaggeration; Louisa was a lovely woman. Her wide brown eyes were bright, and her thick dark hair was coiled up neatly and caught back from her face by a pale green band that matched her print morning dress.
Louisa motioned for him to sit next to her. “Nonsense; that’s just fine talk. But it’s kind of you, so I’ll let it pass even though I know it’s ridiculous.”
“It’s the perfect truth, I swear. I’m very glad to see you alone this morning. It has been quite a while, and we have much to talk about.”
“Oh?” she asked. “I am glad to see you, too, but what subject has arisen so suddenly?”
“Nothing sudden; just talk about our marriage. Before I speak to your father—which is, of course, one of the reasons for my visit here—I wanted to consult your wishes as to the time and scale of the ceremony.”
Again he reached for her hands as he moved closer to her on the sofa. “I would like to be married as soon as possible.”
This had been his plan even before arriving at Stonemeadows Hall; a key motivation for his swift engagement had been an equally swift—though respectably so—marriage. Now that he had arrived, he was also disconcerted by his unexpected attraction to Julia, and he determined to squelch it at once by cementing his tie with his future wife.
Except Louisa didn’t react as he’d thought she would.
Based on his experience with women, he expected a warm, eager response, possibly even followed by an animated discussion of where to have the wedding gown made. He wasn’t sorry to be spared the discourse on fashion, but still—when Louisa only stared at him, startled, his heart sank a bit.
“I see,” was her only initial response. She hesitated, then added, “There is no need for a rush, is there? Need we be hasty?”
Her lack of enthusiasm stung, and James drew back. “Hasty? I hadn’t thought of it that way. No, there’s no reason except my own wish to be settled.”
It was mostly true. True enough. He did wish to be settled. At once. Though it wasn’t precisely for his own sake.
Louisa bit her lip as she considered, then admitted, “If we marry soon, I shall have to sponsor Julia during her season next spring.”
This was a total non sequitur to James, but he tried to respond as he thought Louisa would expect him to. “I think that would be delightful. You could begin your life as a London hostess with one of your favorite family connections.”
She raised one slim hand, as if to ward off James’s suggestion. “I would not find it delightful. In fact, I’d find it the opposite.” She shook her head. “I can’t think of it; I really can’t. I do dislike drawing attention to my own faults, James, but it cannot have escaped your notice that I fit very poorly into the world of the ton. How would it serve Julia—or my own self—to try to take a place of prominence in that world and lead an unknown young lady into it?”
Her reluctance was startling, but after pondering her words, James wasn’t really surprised. He knew she hadn’t enjoyed her London season; good Lord, they had met because she was hiding from a ballroom.
But he had to persuade her to be married as soon as possible. How best could he do it?
Well, there were always his title and his money. They were worth a try.
“Is that all that’s bothering you?” When she bridled, he added hastily, “Not that I mean to belittle your concerns. But you forget, my dear, that I bring connections to our marriage as well. As my wife, the new Viscountess Matheson, you will have the respect of all you meet.” He grinned at her; his most charming grin, the one that had always caused young women to swoon and flutter. “If I do say so myself.”
Louisa, of all young women, seemed immune to The Grin. “I know,” she replied glumly. “I know that you’re very much a part of that world, and that it is important to you. But could I not be one of those wives who stays in the country all the time?” A hopeful smile peeped at the corners of her mouth. “You could tell everyone I misbehaved terribly and you had to rusticate me.”
James responded appreciatively to her sly smile and the potential double meaning of her words. “A misbehaving wife? Surely not my wife.”
He bent his head, intending to drop a kiss on her lips. Just a small one. Just to remind himself of what he had promised to be to her.
Louisa permitted him to draw within a breath of her face, but then seemed to think better of it and scooted away just out of his reach. “Apparently fictional misbehavior breeds genuine misbehavior,” she teased, her voice trembling a bit.
James was startled by her movement, and caught literally off balance. He swayed, checked himself to keep from tipping over, and took a deep breath to collect himself. “Surely a kiss is not out of place from your future husband.”
Louisa blushed, and he smiled inwardly. This was the blushing-est family he’d ever seen. He rather liked it; it made it easy to tell what they were feeling.
Although, judging from her appearance, Louisa now looked . . . a bit anxious? Her brows were knit over her flushed cheeks, and she bit her bottom lip in seeming agitation.
This wasn’t working. Why wouldn’t she agree to marry him quickly? He couldn’t understand, but she seemed distressed by the idea.
Which, honestly, was a bit lowering for a man.
It seemed ungentlemanly to press her further right now, so James set aside the topic for another time. Perhaps Louisa was always intractable in the morning, and she’d be more compliant under the charm of an evening sky. They could take a walk in the gardens, and in the presence of a romantic riot of flowers, he could broach the topic again.
For now, though, Louisa’s thoughts were still in London. He knew this not because he was able to read her inscrutable expression. It was, rather, because she suggested, “If we are not married until after Julia’s season, my aunt, Lady Irving, could sponsor her instead.”
So now they were talking of Julia’s season again. James wrenched his thoughts into the proper channel. But . . . Lady Irving? “That woman is terrifying. She makes my mother look like the veriest lamb in comparison.”
He realized at once that this was a rather rude thing to say about a gently bred lady, an elder, and a countess— and especially about a female who was all of these things as well as aunt to his betrothed.
But Louisa nodded calmly, not seeming to mind at all.
“That is certainly an apt description,” she agreed. “I know sometimes I felt overwhelmed by the amount she had planned for me during my season. But that would be ideal for Julia’s presentation, if Aunt Estella is willing.”
An idea struck James. “Actually, your sister Julia’s rather like your aunt.” At Louisa’s look of surprise, he explained, “Not that she is terrifying in the slightest, but she seems to say whatever comes into her head.”
“Oh, well, that’s true. Likely it comes from growing up with . . . rather an unusual set of parents.”
“I expect the ton will find her honesty refreshing,” James added loyally, but he felt a pang of doubt. What if they should not take to the young Miss Herington any better than they did to the Honorable Miss Oliver? He shook off the thought, remembering Louisa’s own pain at her invisibility during the season and determining to do whatever he could to ensure Julia’s success. For Louisa’s sake, naturally.
“I hope so,” Louisa said, looking uncertain. “I don’t know if she cares to go at all, but eventually she must marry. And probably she will enjoy London. Julia genuinely likes people, so the crush of a party may seem like a very fine thing to her.”
They sat together in silence for a moment; James was unsure of what to say. His own relations would sooner give any amount of money, he knew, than admit that they were ever ill at ease. The ton was full of traps for the socially awkward or timid.
“What if I came to London, too,” Louisa suggested, “to keep Julia company, and I could look for bride-clothes at the same time? I could take part in events when I wanted, and it wouldn’t matter if no one noticed me, because as an engaged lady, I am no longer in competition with the young misses.”
Her spirits looked as if they were lifting as she spoke, and she continued in a rush, “Oh, James, it would be perfect. Please do agree. Aunt Estella will do a much better job as a sponsor than I, and Julia would not be lonely as I was, and you could show her around at any parties that I didn’t wa—” She paused, her gaze dropping, and finished, “Um, that I was not able to attend. Due to, er, fittings with my modiste or some such thing.”
The idea was unusual, but he considered it. Louisa was willing to come to London; this was more than he had expected her to grant after her initial reluctance, and he might yet be able to persuade her to come as his wife.
“It would be uncommon, but it seems like a reasonable solution,” he granted. “Do you think your aunt would agree to have you both stay with her?”
At her eager nod, he added, “I myself would be delighted to have you in town for another season; otherwise there would be little reason for me to go. And you are right, I can ease your sister’s path as I was not able to do for you.” He smiled down at Louisa, whose dark eyes were now sparkling with excitement.
“It would be so much better with her there—and with you, of course.” Her brow puckered. “But what would we tell people if anyone wondered why we had not yet married?”
That was a good question, and one for which he had no answer. He was marrying to subtract from the family’s notoriety, not add to it.
He shrugged. “We’d tell them to get their blasted noses out of our business,” James replied straight-faced. Perhaps Julia was already influencing him; he’d never have dreamed of speaking so to a lady before yesterday.
Louisa gasped, then started laughing when his face broke into a smile. “Why not? Or perhaps we could tell them that my parents enrolled you in their livestock operations, and you were far too interested in developing new cattle strains to get around to planning a wedding.”
“Or that you refused to marry me until my entire home was decorated exactly as you like, with fashionable Egyptian furniture and a bathtub shaped like the Sphinx,” he teased, pleased to see her shaking her head with laughter.
“No one would ever believe that one. That would be too repulsive,” she said, catching her breath. “Unless—is this the truth of your renovations at Nicholls? Are we to be transported to the Pyramids when we enter your estate?”
“I’m afraid it’s much more prosaic than that,” he admitted. “I’ve got a sound roof over the place as a start, and the rest is repairing the damage of years of neglect. My father never kept more than a skeleton staff there, and many of the rooms were closed off long ago.
“Now that I think of it,” he continued, “it would be nice to have you put your own stamp on it as the work proceeds. You know, have things as you like—the wall hangings and draperies and whatnot.”
Louisa offered him a small smile. “Your offer is generous, and your point’s well taken. Maybe we could make a family party of it someday soon. I’d love to see Nicholls, and I’m sure you are keen to get back there as well for a time.”
“It’s settled, then,” James said, and he stood to take his leave of her. “I’ll go and speak to your father, and I’ll acquaint him of your wishes for your aunt’s sponsorship of your sister. And I will suggest an excursion to Nicholls sometime soon, whenever it is convenient for your parents.”
“But what shall we tell people about our postponed wedding?” She bit her lip.
He pondered the question. Nothing came at once to mind, which had become a disturbingly common phenomenon since he’d entered this house.
“We’ll sort that out if we need to,” he said finally. “‘For family reasons’ is accurate enough.” It wouldn’t silence any gossiping tongues, but what else could he say under the circumstances? He tried to hide his perturbation with a small joke. “Or we can just say you’re waiting for the Sphinx tub to arrive; whichever you prefer.”
She shook her head, smiling, and began to reach again for the bound volume she had laid aside upon his entrance.
“I wouldn’t tease Papa like that if I were you,” she recommended. “He won’t be able to tell that you’re joking, and he’d think I had returned from London an extremely silly creature. Although,” she considered, “a Sphinx is part lion, is it not? He is so fond of animals, he may think it an excellent choice for furniture.”
James smiled and kissed her hand again, to remind himself again that he was a betrothed man. Louisa pinkened again, and as he left her, he was pleased—and perhaps a bit relieved—that he could affect her despite her worries.
Once outside the library, he leaned against the wall and shut his eyes. That conversation hadn’t gone at all the way he’d expected.
True, Louisa was going to visit his home, which he supposed was a good thing. But why the devil didn’t she want to get married yet? Did she hate London so much? And if so, why was she willing to go back again to help her sister?
He opened his eyes, but shook his head in puzzlement. Louisa seemed to be offering him as much as she could, and it would be ungentlemanly of him to press her again right now. It would all work out eventually. They would be married, and with his wife at his side, he could help his sister and her young daughters.
As for that idea about Julia coming to London with Louisa—well, it would probably turn out very well for the two sisters. But he obviously needed to check his reactions better. His attraction to Julia was far beyond what he should allow himself to feel as an engaged man. He was going to find himself baying at the moon every night at the rate he was going.
***
LEFT BEHIND IN THE library, Louisa was even more unsettled than the viscount. She laid aside her book, but in case James stepped back into the room, she kept her face carefully smooth.
It was an expression—or rather, a lack of expression— that she had developed during her time in London. There had been so many times her natural reserve had hindered her, it seemed small consolation that it also gave her the ability to keep her thoughts from her face.
She could show no fear when she entered a room full of hundreds of strangers, who looked her over and openly dismissed her. She could show no disappointment when she was overlooked for dance after dance; show no pain when her host, out of pity, took her onto the ballroom floor and trod all over her feet; show no chagrin when her aunt, who was gracious enough to sponsor her, lamented loudly to all her friends about how no one was coming along to snap Louisa up.
Truly, she was a talented young lady. The ton had had no idea just how talented.
Compared to the agonies of a single London supper party, her conversation with James had been perfectly cordial. But she was left with an uneasy feeling all the same. She knew that the very reason for his visit was to discuss their marriage. She knew, too, that he planned for them to be married fairly soon, at which point she would be his viscountess.
It was just that when he brought up the subject, she was terrified. Terrified of leaving her family again, of living in London, of always bearing the crushing loneliness she’d hardly spoken of even to Julia, her dear sister and closest friend.
She knew eventually she would need to marry, and while she didn’t love James—after all, she had known him for such a short time—she certainly liked him very much. She knew, too, that a financially solvent viscount was far beyond her touch. He could do much better than her, and she should be grateful. And she was grateful; there was no mistake about that. His proposal had offered her the chance to put a period to the loneliest, unhappiest time of her life.
But she couldn’t help wanting to postpone the inevitable as long as possible. Fortunately, James was a kind man, and he’d been willing to accept her wishes even though her reasoning probably sounded weak to him. After all, how could she tell him—a man she hardly knew—that, despite everything he was offering her, she didn’t feel ready for marriage at all?
She simply couldn’t. She’d have to say nothing, show no sign of her doubts, and hope her feelings altered.
She sighed and straightened up. It was done; no more sense in thinking about it. James had come in, spoken with her, and left. He accepted what she asked. For at least a little while longer, she need not think about the changes in store for her.
She picked up the volume at her side again and opened it to the title page.
“Evelina,” she read.
Evelina, who went to London and had a grand time, and made men love her, although she was a nobody. That timeworn tale had seemed so entrancing once.
With all the force Louisa could muster in her arm, she threw the book across the room.