Days after her return to town, Harriette and her father enjoyed an open carriage ride through Hyde Park. This was the most time solely the two of them had spent together since he visited her in Derbyshire.
“Harriette, my dear, I am sorry to hear you will not enjoy the Season to its fullest. Your mother and I were looking forward to your company.”
“You are no more disappointed than I am, Father. Richard insists we must cut the Season short and return to Derbyshire.”
“Why is he so adamant?”
“He says he has had his fill of society.”
“A man of your husband’s reputation—somehow I find that hard to imagine.”
“Father, it is because of his reputation that I should imagine you would be pleased that London diversions no longer hold any interest for my husband. What better sign of his steadfastness and devotion to our marriage?”
“My dear, no one is more delighted than I that you have faith in your husband’s devotion. It is for that very reason I implore you to stay here in London with your mother and me at Stafford House whilst your husband returns to Derbyshire. I see no reason you should be denied an entire Season in town when you and I both know how much you enjoy it.”
“Father, as much as I would love spending time with you and Mother, my place is with Richard. I refuse to be one of those society wives who lives a life apart from her husband, thus giving rise to rumours of discord when nothing can be further from the truth.”
“Then I would implore you to reconsider your plan not to visit us at Downington during the summer.”
“I shall see what Richard says.” Her father was not used to taking no for an answer as his troubled mien attested. Harriette pressed on. “What would you have me say—especially since Richard has already declined your invitation? Besides, we will all enjoy a gay time with the Fitzwilliams in Matlock this September as has been our habit for years.”
“My point exactly. Your husband has no misgivings whatsoever when it comes to declining invitations from your mother and me. Yet the two of you spend considerable time with his family—if not in Matlock, then Pemberley, even Rosings Park for heaven’s sake!”
“Is that not how it is with husbands and wives? I do not recall my mother going against your wishes.”
Lord Stafford puffed up his chest and huffed. “So, is that how it is? You compare your marriage to that rapscallion, Richard Fitzwilliam, to your mother’s marriage to me.”
Harriette crossed her arms over her chest and stared into the distance. Why had her father even consented to the marriage in the first place if he meant to disparage Richard at every turn? “Father, despite that my husband is a mere second son as you often remind me, and he brought no fortune of his own to the marriage, he is just as much a gentleman as you. The timing of his birth in no way affects who he is as a man. He is worthy. For you to suggest otherwise—quite frankly, I find deeply disturbing.” She regarded him purposely. “Was it not you who reminded me that ‘all that glitters is not gold’?”
“You wound me, my child. My past is stellar in comparison to your husband’s. It has nothing to do with the timing of my birth, but rather the choices I made as a young man and continue to make to this day.”
“My husband is entitled to his past. I will not judge him harshly because of it. I accept him as he is, just as he accepts me.” Harriette stared into her father’s dark eyes. “I implore you to regard him accordingly. If not, I shall know how to act.”
“I did not invite you on this ride to argue, my dear. You must forgive me for holding opinions that are so adamantly opposed to your own. If you will allow, Fitzwilliam has been determined to bend you to his own idea of what a proper woman should be, and quite frankly, it disturbs me that you so willingly submit.
“When you stood in the Matlock library so many months ago, I pontificated that ‘love hath made thee a tame snake.’ Whilst I considered the words, I dared not to suppose they might one day prove true.”
She laid her head on her father’s shoulder. “Your little girl has grown up. Is that so unpardonable?”
“I suppose not. I never expected to lose you so completely to your husband and the Fitzwilliams.”
“But you have not lost me—not really. In fact, you have gained a son. He is a decent and respectable man whom you should endeavour to appreciate.”
Her father placed his strong hand on hers and patted it. “Yes—I have gained a son ... a second son.”
She looked at her father and shook her head. “Oh, Father, you are incorrigible!”
“I hope this means you will join your mother and me for dinner before you leave town.”
“I would be enjoying dinner with you and Mother this evening at the Darcys’ had you not seen fit to decline Elizabeth’s invitation. How embarrassing it was for me when you spurned two of my dearest acquaintances. I will remind you that my in-laws are not that uncouth.”
“Harriette, my dear, you know full well your mother and I are always delighted to be in company with Darcy and his bride. It is his bride’s family to whom we object. Lord and Lady Stafford dining with country lawyers and tradesmen? Such a notion is beyond ridiculous. It is abhorrent!”
“Well, Lord and Lady Matlock will be there—as will Lord and Lady Harry Middleton. Correct me if I am mistaken, but I believe you are quite fond of both couples.”
“As they are Darcy’s family, I expect them to exercise their own prerogative for the sake of family unity. How can that affect my decision to exercise my own?”
“Is not Harry the future Earl of Stafford?”
“I will not concede your point, young lady. What your brother does after I am dead can have no bearing on what I do as earl. I can only hope the lessons I have strived to teach him through the years in preparation for the fulfilment of his legacy will serve him well in whatever he decides.”
“What a pity, especially since your first born grandson’s first cousin bears those ties to tradesmen that you wilfully spurn. I imagine it will not be very long before your own heralded bloodlines are tainted with sweat from hard work.”
“Heaven forbid! What are you suggesting?” He drew back his head and studied her face. “Is this your way of telling me that you and your husband—”
“No! I am merely saying Harry’s son, his heir, who shall also ascend to the earldom when it is time, will have no reason to spurn tradesman.”
“Perhaps—but as I said, I will be dead, so I shall not worry about it. Most importantly, it shall not affect how I comport myself.”
Harriette blew out a frustrated breath. Suppressing her own hypocrisy on the matter, she chided her father even as she could not help considering they suffered the same attitude but at varying shades. As much as she was pleased with the distinctions of rank and privilege, at least she was willing to dine with her lessors. She might even consent to a country dance or two. She congratulated herself on how far she had come in a very short time. She owed it to her husband and her dear friend Elizabeth’s influence.
Later, when she sat across from the dinner table with Mrs. Bennet, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Elizabeth’s sister Kitty and her husband, Mr. Lovett, and the Collinses, she was glad to be there with her friend. All Elizabeth’s relations, except Jane and her husband and the Phillipses, were there. As regarded the former, she was a bit disappointed, for she had wanted to get better acquainted with Elizabeth’s eldest sister. Their time together in Hertfordshire had been entirely too brief. As for the latter, Harriette was very pleased, for in them she had seen the most uncouth, most crass people imaginable—almost to the point of wishing to rethink her evolving opinions of preservation of rank.
The after dinner gathering was a stark contrast to the Rosings Park gatherings, stately and boring—in fact, it was different from anything Harriette had ever experienced, save her time in Hertfordshire. If she could but choose which atmosphere suited her better, she would be unable to do so. Both had its advantages as well as its disadvantages. As long as Richard was there, it mattered not. She would prefer nothing more than her husband’s company. He always made her feel as if she were the only person in the room. He entered the parlour in deep conversation with Darcy, but even as they spoke, he fixed his eyes on her.
Finished with his discussion with Darcy, Richard sauntered to her and took her hand. He graced it with a light brush of his lips in that seductive way that always told her he would rather be elsewhere with her. “Harriette, it is a beautiful evening. Will you join me for a stroll in the garden?”
“It is my pleasure. May I join you there after I retrieve a shawl from upstairs?”
He urged her to her feet and whispered, “I assure you, my dear, you will not need it.”
“Are you not afraid I might catch a chill, which might render me ill—making our imminent departure for Derbyshire impossible?”
He leaned nearer. “I shall keep you warm.” Heat radiated through her body as his warm breath caressed her.
Harriette felt her colour rise. She looked around the room curious to see if anyone noticed. “Will we not be missed?”
“This is not our party, my love. Our party awaits us in the garden.” He started to walk away. “Meet me there in five minutes. I have plans for you.”
Richard then quitted the room. Less than five minutes later, she followed.