Marriage to a Mister (A Daughters of Regency #1) (6 page)

"Show him in Mr. Craigs, and would you have Mary bring in the tray?" she managed to say without hesitation. She didn't even have time to be proud of herself before she saw Edward enter. All pretense of strength quickly left her in that moment.

I can't do this,
she thought.

MARRIAGE OFFERS & SWEAR WORDS

Edward walked into the room, doing everything he could to delay having to look at his intended. Once he could no longer use his surroundings as an excuse not to address her, he met her gaze. She looked like she would faint away any moment.

Her face was absolutely devoid of color, and the mint green muslin day dress she was wearing cast a sickly hue onto her skin. Alarm swept through him when he thought she may collapse into a fit of vapors.
 

He rushed to her side. "Lady Fleur, please sit down," he said as he took her elbow and moved her to the closest chair.

"I'm supposed to be inviting you to sit down," she said in a small whisper.

Edward didn't know how to respond. She was so bewildered, she probably didn't even realize she had spoken aloud. She would be frightfully embarrassed when she remembered.

The maid chose that moment to bustle in, setting down the tea service between the chairs they now occupied. The movement seemed to wake Fleur out of her daze.
 

"Lord Ravenbrook, forgive me, where are my manners? Would you like a cup of tea?"

Edward watched as she picked up the teapot — it rattled dangerously as her hand trembled. Afraid that he would end up with a lap full of scalding tea, or worse, she, Edward took the pot and lowered it back down to the tray.

"Lady Fleur, thank you for your kind offer, but I have come here on a ... very particular errand," he said, his own nerves rattling him. "I wonder if we could sit here and just talk for a moment?"

"By all means," she replied, a look of wide-eyed anticipation and fright upon her face.

If anyone had told Edward before today that you could be deafened by actual silence he would have scoffed and cried nonsense, but not today.

Go on,
he encouraged himself. "We seem to have found ourselves in a rather extraordinary position, Lady Fleur. I wonder if I should just get right down to it. Shall I?"

Fleur blinked then nodded.

"I was hoping... that is to say I ..." Edward trailed off, obviously trying to gather his wits about him, feeling like a trapped fox ready to run any moment.

He swallowed and tried again. "Lady Fleur, it would be a privilege for you ... I mean ... not a privilege for you, but a privilege for me, that is to say ...
damn
," he hissed.
 

Edward sat completely still, wondering what to do. He couldn't remember there ever being a time where he had been so ineloquent, or to his own horror, swore in front of a lady, and for both to happen during his marriage proposal?

It was an unmitigated disaster.

He reached up and tore off his spectacles, rubbing his nose and thinking maybe if he could not see her clearly it would be easier. He immediately became alarmed when he heard a small sob.

Trying to think of the best way to start over and apologize, it occurred to him that had never even seen a weeping woman, let alone been the cause for one, but as the sound became louder and less muffled, he realized that she wasn't crying at all, but rather, she was laughing.

 
Laughing at him.

If he weren't so overjoyed he didn't have a hysterical woman on his hands he would have had the mind to be insulted.

"You don't have to laugh at a poor man, Lady Fleur," he said, a slight smile on his face.

Fleur thought the expression rather suited him as she watched him reach up and push his spectacles back up upon his nose. He was still handsome as ever, with his long dark hair that fell past his shoulders, tied neatly at the nape of his neck with a ribbon, not at all fashionable for men of his age anymore, but she couldn't imagine him otherwise as he had always worn it so. And his eyes, they were such a dark brown she could almost imagine them black.
 

He is very dark and attractive
, she thought,
and tall
. His serious face was such a stark contrast to the bumbling mess he'd made of the marriage proposal that she started laughing again, color quickly returning to her face.

Edward took a deep breath. "Shall I try this again? I would be honored if you would give me the privilege of becoming my wife. There, that ought to do it don't you think?"

Fleur laughed again and nodded her head in acceptance. "I would be honored, my lord."

"Now that we have an understanding, not that it was unpleasant business at all," he said, causing her eyes to widen and another laugh to rock through her. "I believe my mother would like to informally announce our engagement tonight at Lady Brockhurst's ball, if that is amenable to you?"

Fleur smiled. "Yes, of course."

There, that was better,
Edward thought.

He stood to leave. "I do hope you will save the third set for me, then we can adjourn to supper together?"

He watched as she took a deep breath. "I shall look forward to it."
 

"Then my mother shall convey the particulars to you — I'm sure you have much to speak about. Good day," he said with a polite bow before turning and making his way back outside of the drawing room.

Fleur slumped down into the chair. She felt happy that the worst was now over, for the next few hours at least. She was glad he didn't seem offended by her awkwardness, and his own gaffe made her feel like he understood her. No doubt her distress had been the cause of his, but he had behaved admirably.
 

On the other side of the door Edward took a deep breath, not quite ready to face the bumbling matchmakers across the hall.

You, Edward Woolf, are a complete idiot.

He took his leave without informing his father and the duke of what was probably the worst proposal to have ever graced the halls of the House of Norfield. Yet, even with all of his self-reassurance that everything would be fine, he couldn't help think of what Evan would have to say about the whole affair.

***

Nathan closed the door to the solicitor's office with a firm pull, looking out onto the busy street with a frown. "I'll not believe another word you utter, Woolf. I waited for over an hour."

Evan laughed and walked towards his mother's residence. "Significantly shorter than the last, you should be grateful," he said, loudly enough for Nathan to hear him over the noise of the horse-shod feet upon the street. "But let us not delay, we still have to convey our regrets to my mother."

Nathan clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, my friend, but I've already written to your mother, accepting her gracious invitation."
 

"What?" Evan exclaimed, stopping mid stride. "Then why did you not say so this morning? Hell and damnation. Of all the tedious, odious things to agree to, a house party, Nathan?"

"Now, now, Evan, not in front of the peerage," Nathan mocked with great joy, looking around at the people who stopped to whisper at his outburst. "And how could I tell you, you wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, with your gloating about the press —"

"You've ruined all my excuses to decline," shouted Evan, interrupting Nathan. "Now I will have to accept and spend weeks fending off schemes of matchmaking and conversation."

Nathan gasped and clutched his heart. "Oh no, not conversation! Be sure to bring your broadsword, you may need protection."
 

Evan glowered as Nathan laughed. "I wonder who else received an invitation?" he asked while starting to walk once more.

"Really, Evan, you would think you would know. Perhaps if you visited home more often."

"Stop nagging," he said, harsh and short, unwilling to discuss the matter. "Surely you are curious too, since you accepted."

"Let's see ..." said Nathan, making a production of tapping his chin, knowing it would only irritate Evan further. "Oliver has received an invitation, and me of course."

"And how, pray tell, would you know the guest list? The invitations only arrived this morning."

"You'd be surprised what you can glean from the perils of conversation. I met Miss Phoebe Simmons on the road to your house, and when I stopped to say hello I asked her if she were returning to the country or staying in town, and so she mentioned her invitation, then me my own, and then we did this miraculous thing, we talked to one another."

Evan glanced to Nathan and growled. "Who else then?"
 

Nathan's grin was wide, his mirth apparent. "Oh, you'll love this. Andrew Osborne was invited as well." He could see the annoyance in every inch of Evan's manner. He waited just a few more seconds, watching his friend work himself up into a full on fit, then he continued to wait until Evan opened his mouth to explode. "Of course Andrew can't make it, off fighting the good fight and all that."

"Thank God for that," Evan said, letting out a puff of air. "If he had agreed there wouldn't be any peace at Blackburn Hall between any of us. What was my mother thinking?"

"I was astonished as well, seeing as how you two despise one another. Though you were friends once, were you not?"

Evan nodded. "Yes, when we were children. He's the nephew of the Duke of Norfield, and he and his daughters spent many holidays at my father's country home. Sometimes Andrew would accompany them, though the last time I saw him ..." Evan trailed off laughing. "The last time we argued and I hid all his shoes in various places around the house, my favorite being inside a set of matching chamber pots."

Nathan blanched and shuddered. "No wonder he despises you."

Evan only shrugged, smiling.

"Perhaps it's time you made more of an effort, Evan. You're the only person of my acquaintance who rejects friendship and conversation at every turn, acting like everyone else who doesn't take your bleak line of thought should be in a ward. Perhaps it's time to stop shuttering yourself up in your library, or that horrid country manor you just acquired."

Evan side stepped a group of older ladies, nodding slightly to them before walking on. "The manor was a brilliant investment, and in fact I had planned to return there the day after tomorrow until all this house party nonsense interrupted my plans," said Evan. "But don't change the subject, there must be more. What about the ladies? This is all a damned matchmaking scheme, I tell you. Why else would she organize such an affair last minute? I know I rarely say it, Nathan, but I do look upon you like a brother, so I have to say, with utter devotion, that you and Oliver are both mad for accepting."

"Is that something you would say to a beloved brother?"

Evan shook his head. "You both should have run when you had the chance. My mother will be pushing the latest debutantes at your heads, mark my words.

"I'm not at all worried. All I'll have to do is give your dazzling mother one of my winning smiles and she'll let me get away with anything." Nathan laughed at Evan's disgusted look.
 

He growled between clenched teeth. "Your remarks about my mother are out of line, Carter, now tell me who else."

"Fine, if you insist. You're so dull sometimes. Both the Osborne girls, Lady Julia and, oh what is it, the elder girl, what is her name? Fleur, that's it, Lady Fleur." Nathan skidded to a stop, nearly bumping into Evan when the latter stopped dead cold in the middle of the sidewalk, staring directly ahead with his jaw clenched.
 

Evan slowly reached into his waist coat pocket and felt the cool metal, smooth on one side, elaborately engraved on the other.
 

"Who else?" Evan asked, his voice rough, his eyes focused on something in the distance.

Nathan, looked at him oddly but continued. "The Wilson girl, I've only met her once or twice, can't remember her first name, other than that, Miss Phoebe Simmons, of course, and Lady Charity Preston."

"Lady Charity?" Evan asked, surprised to hear the name. "You see, I warned you, it's all a damned matchmaking scheme. I'm going to refuse," he said and began to walk faster, not admitting to himself that the pace of his heart had also quickened at the mention of Fleur's name.

Nathan matched his stride. "You can't refuse your mother's invitation when your own friends will be in attendance."

"Use your head, Nathan, why else would my mother invite three women with whom she has little to do —"

"Most likely, I would think, because they are the friends of my betrothed," a slow deep voice cut in from behind, startling them both.

Evan and Nathan stopped walking and watched as Viscount Ravenbrook approached them. "Mr. Carter," he greeted with a polite nod. "On your way to Mother's, I take it?" he asked, addressing Evan.

Evan stared at Edward like he had lost his mind, asking his destination after giving such news, as if nothing important was revealed, it was unimaginable. "Betrothed? Since when? And to whom?
Has this entire day gone mad?"
he yelled in disbelief.

Not even showing a bit of surprise at his outburst, so used to Evan's moods as he was, Edward continued. "Lady Osborne," he answered, watching him carefully.
 

Evan stared disbelievingly up into his brother's dark eyes, unable to move. "Lady
Fleur
Osborne?"
 

Edward winced. "Yes."

Clenching his jaw, Evan turned abruptly and continued walking to his mother's house without so much as a word of disagreement or congratulations.

Nathan looked at his friend and then gave Edward a quizzical look before he followed Evan and clapped him on the back. "Come now, Evan, don't be like that to the poor viscount," he said brightly. "Better him than you."

Evan shook free of Nathan and quickly ascended the steps of his parents' home. Once he reached the door, instead of knocking he quickly whipped around to face his brother. "When was this decided? I did not know you were courting the lady."
 

Edward reared back slightly when he saw the tight angry look on his Evan's face. "I'm not, courting her, that is. It's a rather delicate situation I would prefer not to discuss here on the stoop," he said, looking around.