The girls gathered around her at the window, and sure enough, Alison saw a single figure walking towards the house at a considerable pace, his gaze fixed straight ahead. He was still too far away to be recognized, but as he came closer, his identity became clear.
“The Duke!” Lady Margaret gasped. “Alison, quick, go and fetch some sewing and sit over there by the window, where the light is best. Try to look accomplished! And give your cheeks a pinch – you are very pale today!”
Alison did as she was told, pulling her latest embroidery effort out of a basket by the sofa and sitting as demurely as she could whilst also trying to look busy, occupied in suitable pursuits for a young lady of high standing.
Charlotte and Martha were both standing by the window, wordlessly staring out at the advancing duke. Alison thought that she could see a hint of a smile on Charlotte’s face. Of course, she thought she had him in the palm of her hand! Well, they would see about that. Alison sat up straighter and pinched both of her cheeks hard to give them what she hoped would be a pleasant pinkness.
“Charlotte, go and fetch your father immediately!” Lady Margaret barked.
Charlotte looked at her, confused. “Can you not ring the bell and ask one of the footmen to do it?”
Lady Margaret glared at her. “No, indeed, I cannot, and I will not be schooled on how to run my household by the likes of you!” she returned fiercely. “You’ll go to your father’s study now and fetch him. Tell him that the Duke is paying us a great honor and that he must be present for the duration of the visit.”
Charlotte looked furious, but she cast a glance at Martha, then left the room.
Seemingly satisfied, Lady Margaret sat herself down on the sofa next to Alison and smiled. “Now, we just have to wait and see why the Duke has come to call on us,” she said. She gave Alison a knowing look. “But I think I can guess, can’t you, my dear?”
Alison squirmed. Surely her mother could not be thinking that the Duke had come to pay court to her? It could not be true.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Luke stood awkwardly in the hallway. The footman who had shown him into the house had seemed surprised at first to see him there, with no carriage and no entourage, but his face had quickly softened into the neutrality that is required of servants at all times.
“Your Grace, the family are all at home, currently gathered in the drawing room,” the footman said smoothly.
Luke coughed. He had been prepared for this moment, and he had decided in advance on the course of action he was going to take. “I would like to see Lord Haddington alone,” he said firmly.
The footman blinked and then nodded. “Of course, Your Grace. If you would not mind waiting here for a short time, I will make the necessary arrangements.”
“Of course,” Luke concurred and watched as the rather officious footman bustled off, no doubt to evict Lady Haddington and the young ladies from the drawing room and set the whole household into a state of hysterics. But it was the right thing to do; he was sure of it. The conversation that he needed to have with the viscount was best done without an audience, even without Lady Haddington in attendance. Especially without her, in fact. He shuddered at the memory of her behavior at the ball. She was not a woman whose company he would ever seek out voluntarily.
The footman returned after a few minutes. “This way, Your Grace.” He beckoned Luke to follow him in the direction from whence he had just come. “Lady Haddington has just called for tea. Is there anything else I can get for you to ensure your comfort during your visit to Haddington Hall?”
Luke shook his head curtly, then followed the servant down a long corridor. It was a fine house, he thought to himself as they made their way toward the dining room. He was almost certain now, having seen the entrance hall, that he had never been there before, and felt some relief that he had not forgotten some previous social engagement.
The footman announced him with a flourish, and he entered the drawing room, pushing back his shoulders as he did so, suddenly becoming aware of an unexpected flutter of nerves. It was natural to be a little nervous, he supposed, as what he was about to do was not something he had ever done before, but he pushed the feeling down inside him, anxious not to give any hint of hesitancy to his audience.
Luke’s eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw Lady Haddington seated in a chair opposite her husband. Both stood to greet him, and the necessary exchanges of bows and curtsies were performed before a maid brought in the tea that the viscountess had ordered. It was some time before they were all seated with their tea, which gave Luke a few moments to think about why the wretched woman was present in the room, even when he had specifically requested her not to be. But he was at a loss to find a reason for such impropriety other than the generally intolerable nature of Lady Margaret, which he had already witnessed at the ball. He should not have been surprised, really, that she would foist herself upon him in this way.
“Your Grace, you do us a great honor coming here to visit us,” she said now, looking at him over the edge of her delicate teacup, her steely gaze fixed on him.
“The honor is all mine, I assure you,” he replied smoothly.
There was a moment of silence before Luke spoke again. “Lord Haddington, I had hoped to discuss something with you privately…” Surely Lady Margaret would take the hint now? Even she could not be so obtuse?
Before Lord Haddington had the chance to answer, though, she jumped in. “Your Grace, my husband and I are of one mind entirely on all matters. I cannot think of a single subject where there would be a need for you to speak to Lord Haddington alone. Is that not right, my lord?” She turned to her husband and simpered at him, and to Luke’s horror, the viscount smiled at his wife indulgently.
“Indeed, Your Grace, my wife is quite right,” the viscount said. “There are no secrets between us. Whatever it is that you wish to say to me, you can say to us both.”
“Very well.” Luke saw that there was no escape; he would have to have this conversation in the presence of Lady Haddington, whether he liked it or not. He took a breath before speaking, and the words flowed smoothly, just as he had rehearsed them in his mind over and over again during the walk from Seton Hall to Haddington Hall. “It cannot have escaped your notice, my lord, that your daughter captured my attention most strongly at the Thomas’s ball a few evenings ago. I have been scarcely able to think of anything since.” He paused. That much indeed was true, he thought somewhat wryly to himself before continuing. “I came here to ask your permission to spend more time with her, to get to know her, with a view to her becoming my wife in due course, when a courtship of sufficient length has taken place for us both to be sure that such a union would be wise and lead us both to live a happy life together.”
He leaned back in his chair and observed the couple opposite him as the full effect of his words sank in.
“My lord,” squealed Lady Margaret. “Did I not tell you that I was certain that the Duke had been quite taken with Alison? I was so sure of it, and you did not believe me, and now here we are! You should listen to me. Indeed you should! Oh, I am so happy!” She clapped her hands with delight.
The viscount, however, looked rather confused. “Of course, Your Grace, we would be most delighted if you wished to pursue a courtship with Miss Jarvis,” he said. “I confess that this is not quite what I was expecting when I got out of bed this morning, but it will do quite well. Yes, indeed it will!” He let out a chuckle.
Luke watched the man closely. He was perhaps around the same age as his own father would have been now, and the thought made Luke’s heart tug with grief. He wondered how the viscount had ended up married to this woman, when from everything that Charlotte had told him, his first wife had been quite a different creature. The man before him seemed to be tied by convention rather more than he imagined a man would be who had chosen to marry a commoner who liked gardening and cooking.
