An uneasy rustling swept through the crowd, but no one spoke out in disagreement. It was unlikely that anyone would do so as the Earl cut a rather intimidating figure tall and broad as he was dressed all in black. He must have sensed the mood of the crowd because he adjusted his tack.
“Henry leaves behind his beloved daughter, Miss Cleo Wallace, and his sister, Mrs. Caroline Brown nee Wallace, both o’ whom he loved more than words can express. He is preceded in death by his dearly departed wife, Dimitra, who lies but a stone’s throw from this verra spot.”
Another rustle of discomfort passed through the crowd and furtive looks were exchanged by several among them. Cleo’s breath caught in her throat and she choked back a sob. The Earl was clearly using the moment to ignite the same indignation that they felt over the burial situation that they had found themselves in. If enough people reacted in outcry against the action, perhaps they could change the minister’s mind, but she doubted it. It meant a lot to her that he was willing to try regardless of proper decorum.
The Earl went on to speak about the professor’s work at the university, his effect on his students, and the love that he had had for his family and his community. He said everything that Cleo could have possibly wished for the minister to say and more. It was the most moving eulogy that she had ever heard, and her heart broke twice over for the bitter sweetness of it. When the Earl finished, the gravediggers wasted no time in resuming their duties.
“Can they not wait a moment longer? What would it harm to allow our family one brief moment to bid a proper farewell?” Aunt Caroline scolded in disapproval of the gravediggers’ expediency.
“Aye, I would agree,” the Earl answered rejoining them.
“As would I,” a deep voice replied from behind them. Cleo turned around to find a tall, dark haired man, with jade green eyes standing at her father’s graveside. “Irondale,” he greeted Arthur MacDonald with a nod. “Would you care to make the introductions?”
Arthur nodded and turned to Cleo. “Miss Wallace, may I introduce ye tae Brandon Chapman, the Earl o’ Dustshore. Dustshore, allow me tae present Miss Cleo Wallace, daughter o’ the late Professor Henry Wallace.”
“Dustshore?” Cleo recognized the name instantly. “Your father, the late Earl, was a patron to my father when he was but a young man.”
“Yes, I believe that he was,” the Earl of Dustshore agreed, bowing over her hand. “It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Miss Wallace. I only wish that it was under better circumstances.”
“As do I. We will be having a tea at the house to honor my father. Please come. I would very much like to hear more about our families’ connections.”
“I would be delighted, Miss Wallace.”
“And you as well, My Lord,” Cleo turned her gaze to Arthur MacDonald. “Please come. Your words on my father’s behalf meant so very much to us.”
“I will, Miss Wallace. I thank ye for the invitation.”
As Cleo and her Aunt Caroline walked away from the graveside, her aunt leaned over and spoke softly in her ear. “That was very well done, my dear, inviting the Earls to the house. Your father would be proud of such a match.”
“Do not presume to have ideas of marrying me to one of them, Aunt Caroline,” Cleo warned under her breath. “Even if I were interested, which I am not, they are of the nobility, I am not. Matchmaking at a funeral is a bit crass, do not you think?” she reminded in disapproval.
“I am only looking out for your best interest, my dear, and you would see that if you opened your eyes to the realities of your situation.”
“My eyes are wide open about my situation, Auntie. I daresay that they are a great deal more open than most about this entire ordeal.” Cleo did not mean to be irritable, but she and her aunt were dealing with their grief in a very different way, a way that she was not at all comfortable with. “How you can even think of such a thing at a time like this I will never understand.”
“Such things are a necessity of our sex, my sweet innocent niece. I am a widow of good standing. I have no need for another husband as I have my own means of care. You do not have such a luxury. You are an unwed young lady, who no longer enjoys the protection of a father. I will come to live with you to aid in your care and to preserve your reputation, but I will not live forever, and you are not meant to be a spinster. You were meant for better things than such a life. With your father gone, you will need to seek the protection and security that a husband provides.”
“Even if I agreed with you, and I do not, my father’s graveside is not the time to be discussing such a thing.”
“Very well, but we will talk about this again at a later time.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
* * *
Arthur walked along behind Cleo Wallace and her aunt as they made their way through the streets back to the Wallace’s residence. Brandon Chapman walked along beside him making conversation. “How have you been, Irondale?”
“I have been well, but I confess tae feeling great sorrow at the loss o’ the professor. And ye? Are ye well? I was sorry tae hear o’ yer own faither’s passing.”
“It has been an adjustment, I will admit. Father was a force to be reckoned with and it would take a far greater man than I to take his place.”
Arthur nodded. “I felt much the same when my grandfaither died and left me the earldom. it was nae something that I was born tae or truly prepared for. The professor helped me tae see that it was nae my grandfaither’s place I was takin’, but my own. It did nae matter that I was nae born tae it, it had happened, and that was that. He showed me that I had been given a gift tae make a difference in my own way.”
“A wise man.”
“Aye, he was.”
They walked and talked together about their time as students at the university and the various agricultural and business endeavors that they were each currently attempting on their respective estates. Eventually the conversation turned back to the Wallace family. “Miss Wallace is a beauty of some note, is she not?”
