Oliver would be back soon. Graham would want to see him, and no doubt he’d make an offer. He’d hinted at it for a few days now. Judith ought to be delighted, but she wasn’t. A part of her wanted to decline, to embrace Matilda’s offer to take her into the dower house, but she knew she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.
Judith stood up and walked to the window, looking down at the quiet street below. The moon cast a soft glow over the cobblestones, and she felt a sense of calm wash over her. She knew she couldn’t rush this decision, that she needed to take her time and really think about what she wanted.
As she stood there, lost in thought, she made a silent promise to herself. She would make the best of this. If Graham proposed, she’d accept. She’d have a grand wedding at St. George’s of Hanover in London, she’d move into his beautiful, big house in Mayfair, and she’d have children. The sound of laughing children would fill their home, and she’d grow old at Graham’s side. They’d be grandparents. Maybe even great-grandparents. They’d go to dinners, balls, the opera. They might travel. It would be a good life. A pleasant life.
“Oh!” she gasped when she felt wetness roll down her cheeks. Had she been crying?
I cry when imagining the ideal life. What is wrong with me?
But of course, she knew what was wrong. She might be imagining the perfect life, but it wasn’t with the man she had fallen in love with.
Curse that Aaron Fitzwilliam, for he’d put a spell on her heart, one she found impossible to break—but one she knew she had to break anyhow, or else her life, picture perfect as it might be, would be miserable indeed.
CHAPTER 28
Aaron wrapped his hands around his glass of whiskey, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the room around him. It was a Friday night at the Goose and Gander, and the approaching Season had made it particularly busy. Many of the lords and ladies who wintered in the countryside had returned, anticipating the start of the parliamentary and social seasons. Aaron would not be here for that. He had already booked passage on a ship to Italy in a month’s time, with no desire to be present during the upcoming Season.
“I hear Lord Markham is looking for a husband for his youngest,” Henry said, looking up with a mischievous grin. “Anyone here in need of a wife? Aaron? Are you interested?”
“You know I’m not,” Aaron replied curtly.
Henry chuckled. “Well, good. I suppose a duke could do better. Markham’s daughter is not what you would call a diamond of thefirst water. A little stuck-up, if you ask me, and her skin…” He lowered his voice as he laughed.
The three other gentlemen, with whom Aaron was only vaguely familiar, burst into laughter as well.
Aaron pushed his chair back so quickly that it almost toppled over. He had no patience for their superficial chatter, especially since all they seemed capable of were insults toward otherwise perfectly respectable young ladies.
“What is it? Have I offended your sensibilities?” Henry asked, raising an eyebrow. “You used to be one of the first chaps to join such chatter.”
“I most certainly never joined with slanderous comments aimed at innocent young ladies, and you know this.”
Henry rolled his eyes. “You certainly think you are holier than thou, don’t you? Is it not enough that you’re going to win a substantial amount of money once your ward gets married?”
“She is not my ward, and I regret the wager. It was uncouth,” Aaron said.
Although in the back of his head, he wondered if the wager might not be a chance to talk to Judith once more. He owed her half of whatever money he would earn, after all. But then again, he’d only earn it if she was in a steady courtship with marriage on the horizon—and he didn’t want that… He’d rather lose the money.
“What is this wager?” one of the men asked, his eyebrows raised.
“His Grace here bet me a healthy sum that he could get the Marquess of Worcester’s sister married before Worcester returns. I bet that he couldn’t. Familiar with the young lady and her questionable charms, I was wrong. She has been courting Lord Leeds for the last few weeks, and rumor has it that he will make an offer once Lord Worcester returns. This will deprive me of a substantial sum.”
Aaron’s hands shook at his friend’s words. “She does not have questionable charms,” he fired back. “She is a lovely young lady, and the fact that she is about to be married should be all the proof you need.”
Henry snorted. “You have fallen for your charge. Well, I will say you have done a commendable job—she has been rather more pleasant of late. Better put together, too. You have worked your charm. But I dare say that the man who claimed to ‘not be easily charmed by a lady’ has indeed been charmed.” He chuckled, elbowing the men to his left and right. “Although why you chose her, I do not understand. We should not have to put so much work into a lady one is interested in. They say Leeds will make her his bride, but she will likely revert to her stuttering, gauche, unsophisticated self.”
Aaron didn’t quite know what had come over him, but he stormed around the table and grabbed Henry by the collar before he could stop himself. He marched forward, forcing him to back up until the wall brought them both to a halt.
“I will not have you talking about her in such a manner. Judith is a lovely young lady, and I will not have men like you sully her good name—or any other lady’s. I would remind you that you are almost thirty years old and have yet to find a bride. Perhaps it is you who is charmless and in need of etiquette lessons.”
Henry stared at him, his eyes bulging as he struggled to free himself. “Let go this instant. Illingsworth, Garner, do something!” he called to the two men who had been sitting with him.
However, they only stared, while the third, whose name Aaron couldn’t remember, had half-risen from his seat, his buttocks hanging in mid-air as he seemed to debate what to do.
Finally, the third man decided to sit back down after some contemplation and smirked.
“Quite a brave band of brothers you have,” Aaron drawled, releasing Henry and shoving him into the wall once more for good measure.
He finished his drink, grabbed his jacket and top hat, and walked out, followed by Henry’s curses, which grew louder as he walked away.
