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Authors: D.L. Carter

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BOOK: Ridiculous
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“She should never be in his company! I have taught her behavior appropriate to her station. Since she will outrank those she is in company with, she will have nothing to say to them, nor they to her.”

“You have taught her to be silent,” said Shoffer. “To be withdrawn and unhappy. I would prefer that she is able to speak confidently and with proper condescension to all she meets.”

“She knows very well how to do that.”

“By saying nothing at all? No. That is not right. The manner you have forced upon her does not help her to make friends.”

“Friends!” The Duchess's mouth pinched at the thought. “Who is there who would presume to attach himself to her regard? I have introduced her to one or two ladies whose rank is not so far below hers with whom conversation would not be a disgrace.”

Millicent raised her eyebrows at that and glanced toward the silent Beth. The fan descended and the unhappy girl glanced toward her brother in appeal.

“And how, pray, since she cannot speak to anyone, is she to engage the affections of a gentleman?” demanded Shoffer. “Or have you decided, since there are no ranks above her save prince and king, she will remain unmarried?”

Beth gave a soft little whimper at that which led Millicent to suspect the girl had met the mad King and the fat Prince Regent – both of whom were already married.

“She is to marry the Duc of Attelweir,” declared the dowager.

Beth gasped and collapsed against Shoffer whose expression was equally horrified.

“That old roué !” cried Shoffer. “Are you mad? He is older than my father was when he died.”

Millicent swallowed a giggle and forced herself to compose her face when the duchess shot her a quelling glance.

“He is the only man whose rank is equal to her own. Any other match would be a disgrace. As it happens, Duc Attelweir agrees with me and has given me to understand that he would not be adverse to the match.”

“I will not permit it,” cried Shoffer, to his sister's obvious relief. “I do not care what you have said to him, nor he to you, but that marriage would be a
misalliance
of the worse sort. One of temperament and morality. Attelweir is the sort of man I would not acknowledge should I meet him on the street.”

“You best prepare to acknowledge him, for he is coming here tomorrow.”

Beth gasped, and burst into tears.

Chapter Seven

“Here? I think not.” Shoffer tightened his grip on his sister's hand and glared across the room at the dowager. “I am not in expectation of a visit from Attelweir.”

The dowager raised her head and attempted to stare him down, but Shoffer would not be cowed.

“I issued the invitation. Since you indicated that you were settled here for the remainder of the summer, I thought it would be pleasant to host our own house party. I contacted some select personages, and of course, they all accepted.” The dowager glanced briefly toward where Millicent stood. “You should know I have ordered your belongings moved. The room you were issued is far above your station. Since higher ranking personages will be arriving tomorrow, you will be placed in a guest chamber suitable to your status.”

“Did you move me to the stables or the piggery, Your Grace?” inquired Millicent, which prompted a snort from Lady Beth even in her distress.

Before the dowager could answer, Shoffer moved between them.

“By what right do you invite someone I despise to my house?”

“I was not aware of your displeasure. However, it was my house before yours. Before you were even born!” The dowager flashed a look toward Millicent and the footman who waited near the door. “We should not discuss family matters before staff and other such.”

“Such?” muttered Millicent. “Am I
such
? How very odd that I did not know it.”

“Since you have seen fit to invite your friends here, so be it,” said Shoffer. “Beth and I will leave tomorrow, early. Mr. North, I promised you two weeks, but I know you will understand. I'm certain your family will be happy to see you sooner. Do not worry about transportation. I shall be happy to take you up in our equipage and convey you to Bath.”

“You cannot do that!” cried the dowager. “You cannot offend your guests by departing as they arrive.”

“Your guests, Grandmother. Yours. Not mine by any measure. No doubt, in addition to Attelweir, you have included others of your generation, the ancient females who have lectured Beth on her behavior and provided her with no friendship. It is unlikely that you have invited anyone near her age,” Shoffer's eyes narrowed, “unless you have included some chit you intend to throw at me.”

At the dowager’s guilty start, Shoffer shook his head.

“No, Grandmother, this will not do. I will not let you bind me with good manners into spending time with people I find repugnant. When they arrive they will be told that if they expected to spend time with myself or Beth, it was a misunderstanding on their part. Or you may tell them whatever you wish, but I have no intention of remaining in this house with them.” Turning to Beth and Millicent he bowed. “If you will do me the honor of accompanying me, Beth, North, I believe we shall find the library a more congenial place to continue our conversation.”

“Your servant,” said Millicent to Shoffer and hastened to Beth's side. With Shoffer to one side and Millicent guarding the other, Beth was escorted past her grandmother and out of the room.

The library was a huge chamber filled with comfortable appearing chairs, well lit by floor to ceiling French windows in the daytime, and by two fireplaces and candelabra at night, but strangely lacking in books. Aside from one shelf of books bound in exactly the same shade of green leather and a scattering of London papers, there was nothing to read in the room. Millicent was not permitted to be distracted by this oddity for long. Beth claimed her attention immediately.

“Mr. North, I cannot marry him,” she cried, seizing Millicent by her shirt front. “You must help me.”

Millicent almost stumbled to the floor in shock, then took Beth's wrists in her hands and tried to pull the girl free before she discovered the bosom hidden beneath.

“Lady Beth, please, unhand me.”

“Oh, Mr. North, please promise me that I shall not have to marry Attelweir.”

Millicent cast a helpless look toward Shoffer who closed the doors before coming to his sister's side.

“Beth, my dear. Do not fear.” Shoffer caught Beth around the waist and drew her firmly away. “I promise you shall not marry where you do not will.”

“But Grand’Mere… You do not know her when she is determined. She wants this marriage and will make it happen unless we act to prevent it.”

Shoffer rocked the small girl in his arms and tried to comfort her. Beth endured the embrace a few moments longer, then shook him off to return to Millicent.

“Mr. North, I entreat you. Promise me that should it come to that point, that you will speak for me. I cannot bear it that there be a chance that I should marry Attelweir.”

“Beth, this will not do.” Shoffer took her arm and tried to lead her to a chair. Instead Beth seized hold of Millicent's hand and would not be moved. “You do not need to fear. I will not permit him to trouble you.”

“But I do,” cried Beth, her knuckles white. “Would you just promise me, Mr. North, that you would marry me yourself should it ever come to a choice? I would go to Gretna with you, if necessary. Timothy would not mind.”

“Yes, he would,” said Millicent, meeting that man's eyes. “And so would I. Lady Beth, I shall not do this to you. Were I to make a promise to marry you, if ever it should be a choice between me and Attelweir – not a flattering choice, mind you – then it would weigh in your mind and twist and change in the passage of time until you came to believe that there was an understanding between us. Then, in your mind, it would become an engagement. Thereafter, you would cease to try and go about, meet with people, and seek to find the man you are meant to marry. I will not be the cause of your future unhappiness. You deserve a husband who will love you as he should. Let it be instead, I will promise should ever you need my assistance in reaching the safety of your brother's side, then I shall give my heart's blood to see it done.”

“That is not good enough!”

Millicent shook her head and stepped away. “It is all I can offer you, dear Lady Beth. I do not love you as I should to be your husband.”

“It is not enough,” repeated Beth, and bursting into tears she fled the room.

Millicent and Shoffer exchanged looks of masculine confusion and despair.

“Why is she in such a taking?” demanded Shoffer. “Does she not believe me? How can it be that she does not trust me? Why does she turn to you? Does she not know I shall do anything that is required to be certain Attelweir is kept from her?”

“I begin to think that Lady Beth is a trifle young for marriage. Too young to be out.”

Millicent turned away and considered, briefly, helping herself to a drink to steady her nerves. Of all things for Beth to demand, a marriage? If it were not so very sad it would be laughable.

“She is all of seventeen. That is not an unreasonable age to be out. Still, she is easily overset and shy. A delay of a year or so before marriage would not go amiss. I should not like to prevent her having a season this year; that would seem too much like punishment and she needs the practice of going about in society,” Shoffer went to the door and closed it slowly. “I tell you in confidence, North, I do not believe my grandmother or Mrs. Fleming do her any good at all. But what am I to do? Beth must have some chaperone. There are some services I cannot provide her.”

Millicent picked up and set down crystal decanters without turning her head. “If only in jest, I would suggest you find that woman of the
ton
whom your Grandmother despises and install her at your sister's side.”

Shoffer grunted and flung himself into the nearest chair.

“If it were a case for jesting, I might even act on your advice.” He covered his face with his hands. “Be a friend and pour me a glass of something.”

Instead of making use of the bottles before her, Millicent crossed the room and gave the bell pull a strong yank. When the downstairs maid appeared, Millicent sent her off for a tea tray. Shoffer dropped his hands to his lap and stared at her.

“Tea? Truly, you are an odd fellow.”

“But still a friend.” Millicent refused to blush. “There are times, I have noted, that a sad mood is not improved by drink.”

“As you wish, then. North, I am at a loss. Perhaps your cousin can aid me? Could she chaperone Beth alongside your cousins? I would be willing to put them up at Trolenfield house in return for the favor.”

“Felicity? No.” Millicent did not even hesitate before answering. “No, I am sorry, that will not do. Although both her parents are of old and good stock – an earl or some such in her history – and her husband the second son of a baronet, my cousin must be considered by the
ton
to be the wife of a tutor, since that is how her husband spent his life. She has no standing that the
ton
would acknowledge and her chaperonage would not advance your sister's state.”

“Then what am I to do?”

The tea tray was fetched in and the maid poured out for both of them before vanishing. Millicent obeyed Shoffer's gesture and sat in the great chair opposite his before the unlit fireplace. Millicent settled her feet on a footrest and was surprised when Shoffer's booted feet joined hers from the other side. She considered removing her feet. It was, after all, his house and his footstool. But when Shoffer merely sipped his tea and stared into the distance, Millicent relaxed and allowed herself to be cheered by his nearness. Even for an instant permitted her foot to rest against his. Two layers of leather and bootblack separated their skin and yet she felt warmed by the contact. Millicent smiled at her own foolishness while Shoffer scowled at the ceiling.

“She turned to you, North. You. If I were a lesser man, I would hate you for being the one she trusts. That she believes will aid her.”

“I think, Your Grace, that there is more to her terror than we currently understand. Your sister is the only one who can explain her actions.”

“Come, North,” said Shoffer, after another ten minutes had passed. “There must be something you can suggest.”

“Coming from my so very great experience with the
ton
?” Millicent sighed. “From my history of many seasons spent in London? How can I help you? I do not even know where Attelweir is.”

“Attelweir is some small province of France. The present duc escaped during the early days of The Troubles and has been living on the charity of social climbing nitwits since then. ”

“He has no money, then?”

“No income, no estate, and no hope of any, considering that he is related, distantly, to the Bourbon Kings and Napoleon despises him. His lands have all been given away to the Tyrant's friends.”

“Then why does the dowager favor him so much? It is clear that much of his interest must be in your sister's dowry. He has nothing to offer in return.”

“Rank, and rank alone. He was born a duc. He is not considered good
ton
, despite his rank, and many hostesses do not send him invitations. If I had but known that my grandmother was encouraging his attendance upon my sister, I would have acted to prevent it.”

“From the way Lady Beth is behaving, it has not gotten to the point of proposal.”

“True enough, and I am thankful for it. I shall take time this evening to speak to my grandmother. I shall make it clear that Attelweir will be given his congé. With luck he will accept it.” Shoffer glanced toward the windows. “It looks as if we shall have fine weather tomorrow. I am sorry to miss your riding lessons. Perhaps Beth and I shall take rooms in Bath for a little while and you can present your family to her.”

Millicent closed her eyes and tried to imagine close contact between her mother, sisters, and Lady Beth. Too much time spent in conversation could bring many opportunities for Felicity to blurt out the truth.

“I do not believe that will advance Lady Beth's cause,” said Millicent, after a longish pause. “I think, perhaps, you should make a list of your female distant relatives and acquaintances. You could go on a tour for the last few weeks of summer and call upon them. If you are blessed you may find someone Beth feels comfortable with who can accompany her to London for the season.”

BOOK: Ridiculous
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