“I thought I’d explained it well enough,” he answered, still obviously perplexed himself. “He’s secured some manner of a bride for me, though seems to feel as though her identity is as unimportant as last week’s news.”
“Hmm, that is troubling. How will we know anything about her disposition, her health, or her propensity for sickly countenance if I cannot inquire as to which young lady it is?” Lady Margaret looked out over the garden and clucked to herself sadly.
“Well now,” Peter said, looking up in surprise and lowering his voice, “here he comes now.”
“What? Your father? That is very unusual, he prefers something small and quick, often only a plate of meats carried up to his office!” Lady Margaret affixed a broad smile on her face and said through clenched teeth, “Act as though we were not discussing it.”
The Earl came over and waved off a servant who darted forward to pull back a chair for him. Grabbing the back of it himself, he slid it back and fell into it wearily, not bothering to come closer to the table.
“Dearest, it’s lovely to have you join us this afternoon! But what brought you out of doors and away from your work?” Peter’s mother asked, already assembling a small plate of foods for her husband.
“It is done!” Lord Grain announced. “The Duke sent over documents via courier around midday, and they are signed. This is the most beneficial news!”
Peter set down his knife and pinned his father back with a stare. “Did those documents mention anyone by name? Other than myself, of course?”
“Are you still put out about that? We went through it this morning!” the Earl said, looking ever more weary. “Yes, her name was mentioned. As I said, it is the Duke’s eldest daughter—as it should be—and her name is Lady Annemarie.”
“Lady Annemarie?” Lady Margaret asked, her voice rising in pitch from the surprise. “You don’t mean the one who cannot abide horses or tennis? She’s not the sturdiest of girls, you know. She looks as though she might faint if the wind picked up too strongly!”
Peter laughed, but his mother turned on him sharply. “It is not a laughing matter. The last thing you want is to come into a title in such an uncommon way only to lose it when your wife has not the strength to bear children!”
“Can we get me married off before we plot out my children?” Peter teased. “After all, Father has worked so hard on the negotiations.”
“Does everything have to be a game to you?” the Earl demanded, and Peter looked dutifully sheepish.
“I’m sorry, Father, for laughing and for my consternation this morning. I know you’re only thinking of my best interests and what is best for all of us.”
“Quite right!” his father added, reaching for more biscuits. “While you and Bellton were moping around at Northam’s ball last night—musing over the troubles of the world, no doubt—I was neck-deep in bettering your position!”
Peter sighed. No amount of gratitude would suffice, so it was best not to prolong the effort. “Speaking of Bellton, did you hear he had an incident while leaving his family home?”
Lady Margaret paused in filling her plate to look at her son, waiting earnestly for him to go on. Even the Earl paid closer attention.
“Yes, he was set upon by thieves, one of whom was a young lady!” Peter explained. “He barely got away with his life but in the process, lost a very dear item his mother had only just bequeathed to him.”
Lady Margaret pressed a hand to her mouth to hold back a cry while encouraging Peter to tell more.
“So the young woman, who appears to have been used as a decoy by the gang of robbers, is at this very moment locked up in Bellton’s home until such time as she tells Callum the identities of the guilty men.”
Peter’s parents looked both horrified and yet approving of the idea. Thinking his tale was complete, Peter resumed eating only to have his father ask, “But who is this woman?”
“That’s just it, he hardly knows. Only that she called herself ‘Lady Beatrix’ because she fancies her father some sort of noble thief, if such a thing is to be believed.”
Lord Grain dropped his knife with a loud clatter, sending it sprawling across the slate tiles of the veranda. A servant retrieved it and carried it inside to be washed while another dabbed with a cloth at the food that had fallen in the commotion.
“Dearest? What’s the matter with you?” Lady Margaret asked, noting her husband’s suddenly pale face.
“What?” the Earl asked blankly, his face contorting with thought. “Oh, nothing. Just… nothing.” He got up without a word and went back inside, hurrying across the veranda on quick feet.
“Why do I feel like today has been the strangest day of my life?” Peter asked, staring after his father’s retreating form.
“Oh no,” his mother said, laughing with mirth. “This is only the beginning. Wait until the wedding day actually approaches!”
Chapter 14
Before the appointed hour for dinner, Birdie and Greta returned and began to dress Beatrix. Greta brought some irons, still hot from the fire in the kitchen, and began work on Beatrix’s long hair immediately. While she styled it in an elegant yet simple way, Birdie helped Beatrix into a different gown. This one, though obviously finer, was simple as well.
“I thought ya might like somethin’ more serviceable lookin’,” Birdie explained shyly. “I’d feel like a fool in some of the getups that these ladies have to wear, pretendin’ to be someone I ain’t. But this one, ‘tis beautiful, no?”
