Miriam, Marchioness of Saltwood, was still a beautiful woman despite both the years and the hardship she’d endured. While her brother the Earl was at times a cold-hearted, demanding man, seeing to the happiness of his younger sister was his one weakness.
“All right then, since you’ve gone to the trouble!” Franklin said brightly. “I’d only meant to stay for a short while, but you’re right. We’ll make a party of it and stay the afternoon!”
Peter held back a grin for as long as he could, but one glance from his aunt caused him to laugh lightly. She knew what she was doing, playing the adoring sister who couldn’t think of her guests not having something to eat or some amusement to entertain them. Instead, it was her way of keeping them there longer, lessening her deep loneliness if only for a short while.
“So, tell me what news you’ve brought me?” Miriam said, directing them to a small table beside the window that overlooked the rose garden.
“Well, Marjorie sends her warmest wishes, of course,” Franklin began. “She’s most troubled that she couldn’t travel with us today—”
“You mustn’t tell lies, Franklin,” Miriam interrupted with a weak smile. “Marjorie has never enjoyed my company. She thinks I’m rather a simpleton and not at all someone to attempt serious conversation with.”
“That’s not true, Aunt Miriam!” Peter protested sweetly. “Mother adores you, just as we all do.”
“My dear boy, if you’re to succeed your father in both title and politics, you really must practice at lying more!” Miriam smiled and patted Peter’s hand. “No, your mother is quite right, actually. I’m not a serious person. I’m very flighty and it’s hard for me to even care about the topics at hand when a dozen voices start prattling on about this season’s gowns or whose gloves weren’t quite fashionable enough for Lady Fat Bottom’s ball, and what not.”
Peter stifled another laugh, considering there was an air of mocking directed at his own mother. But Miriam had a certain way about her, one that had only been the result of knowing great pain and suffering and then having it all suddenly vanish.
The butler appeared with a tea cart overly laden with refreshments, and both Franklin and Peter exclaimed dutifully over the food. Miriam simply smiled, grateful to have company in what had been a prison for so long.
“Now Peter,” she began as they commenced eating, “I’ve received a note from a dear friend who claims you’re marrying soon.”
“What?” Peter demanded, nearly choking on a bite of fish. He coughed loudly and wiped his mouth, then looked to his father in shock. Franklin merely shrugged. “I’m sorry, Aunt Miriam, but wherever would you hear such a thing?”
“Oh, I made it up just to watch you turn that delightful shade of pink!” Miriam answered, laughing. “No, in all seriousness, I had heard there was talk of such news, but I then considered the source and decided it was rubbish. But I’ll have you both know, there is a certain lady who is very determined that Peter would be a suitable match for her daughter. So be on your guard, hmm?”
“Ah yes,” Franklin said, musing over which unfortunate encounters he’d had lately. “It has long been the erroneous belief that young ladies are the prize to be gussied up and put on display at every social occasion. Some feel as though they are to be fawned over by eligible men, all in hopes of impressing her enough to return a fraction of their adoration. Sadly, that is an outright lie. It is men who are chased down like cattle and brought to market, and you ladies who sink your hooks in and drag them to the slaughterhouse!”
“Never fool yourself into believing that you are not being hunted, Peter,” Miriam said, echoing her brother’s sentiments. “You’re of marriageable age, you have a very handsome inheritance, your position in Parliament is secured for when the unfortunate day may come that you take your father’s place, and worst of all, you are quite charming and rather pleasing to look at.”
Peter blushed once again and looked away, but Miriam continued while his father nodded. “While I certainly think you hung the moon, dear nephew, please don’t mistake this counsel for mere flattery. Your father is a very powerful man of business and as such, you are to be sought until the moment you are wed… and then perhaps even for a few years after, if some fool convinces her daughter to throw herself at you despite your vows.”
Franklin cleared his throat, aware that the conversation was delving into deeply personal matters.
“Miriam, don’t. What’s passed is past. Don’t think on such things and let them spoil your happy day.”
“You’re quite right. What my husband may or may not have done—despite the tongue wagging throughout the ton and the seemingly endless parade of children at our doorstep over the years who looked shockingly like him—is ancient history. And what’s more, he’s dead!” she said brightly. “I’ll not have to suffer another rumor on his account ever again.”
Peter looked nervously at his father before broaching a different course of conversation. “So Aunt Miriam, have you heard about the new fountain at the Duke of Carrington’s summer estate? It’s actually fed from an aqueduct that leads from an underground spring! I’ve seen it myself and think it’s quite a marvel of engineering, though there are some who think its cascade is garish.”
The conversation resumed its pleasant course and after several hours, Franklin insisted that they be off. Miriam bravely dabbed at her tears and bade them promise to visit again soon, but they weren’t permitted to leave without a fresh round of embraces and a hamper of foods to see them home, despite the journey only requiring an hour.
“Thank you for your kindness to my sister, my son,” Franklin said once they’d settled in the carriage and the driver had led the horses away from the house. “She is so very lonely, and these years of avoiding polite company and social engagements has kept my sister from knowing what to say and what to keep quiet about.”
“It’s nothing at all, Father. I’m most happy to visit her and see her face light up as it did. But tell me something,” Peter said, frowning. “What led her to be so reclusive? I think she’s a delightful woman, obviously very intelligent, if perhaps a little opinionated. She would have been the most admired guest at any of the endless social events I’ve attended this year.”
“My sister’s is a long and very unhappy tale, I’m afraid,” the earl replied.
“I won’t disrespect her by sharing all that I know, even with you. But suffice to say that her marriage was one of contempt and near brutality at times, entirely void of any emotion that even resembled kindness. I’m sure you surmised her thoughts on the institution when she felt called to warn you about marriage yourself.”
“I did indeed!” Peter said, laughing in mild disbelief. “I thought it would be the death of me when she said she’d heard I was marrying.”
“Ah, that,” the Earl said, joining in his son’s laughter. “She’s learned of only one such rumor. Make no mistake, you are a prize bull and there are a number of families determined to align themselves with us by snaring you as the cause. Even if that means doing so by spreading half-truths and fabrications about some false arrangement throughout the ton.”
“That’s a depressing thought!” Peter said, still laughing. “Where am I to find a suitable, compatible wife if I cannot venture out of doors without some conniving matron setting a trap and baiting it with her ugly daughter?”
“Leave that to me, my son! There’s some in these modern times who feel that the age-old concept of marriage for the sake of securing and strengthening wealth and title is outdated. Marrying ‘for love’ is all the rage these days, apparently. I blame those blasted poets and novelists. But remember, love is nice until it inevitably fades, but money and power are never-ending, if you plan strategically and be careful whom you trust.”
Chapter 9
