He could not think of one, so he sighed. “I shall be there momentarily.”
After all, he had been looking for something to take his mind off the accounts for a while.
His mother certainly had a way of doing that. Though he was sure to be more frustrated after having breakfast with her.
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Mr Dawling left, and George prepared himself for breakfast with a quick look in the mirror. No doubt his mother would have words on his appearance again.
And now, he could not blame her for he had yet to go to the barber as she had suggested.
There were more important matters to be aware of right now. Or so he told himself to remain busy.
Leaving his study, he walked slowly to the breakfast room, anticipating that his mother would be in full form when he arrived.
And when he did, he was surprised to find that she was not alone.
“Lady Mary!” he exclaimed, surprised to find the young woman sitting beside his mother.
She looked at him with her big brown eyes, smiling in welcome as she rose from her seat to offer him a curtsey. “Your Grace.”
“I hope you do not mind, George. I invited Lady Mary to take breakfast with us.”
His mother's tone left no room for argument, and besides, he could not find any.
“Of course,” George said, entering the room to take a seat opposite them as Mr Dawling poured him a glass of fresh orange juice. “It is good to see you, Lady Mary. I hope you are well.”
“And I, you, Your Grace,” Mary said, playing with her gloves as if they were uncomfortable. “Though I must admit I cannot stay long. I am here on an urgent matter.”
George bit back the urge to scoff. He was certain he already knew well what that might be.
“I do hope it is nothing too serious,” he said. He lifted his glass to his mouth and took a deep swig, trying to ignore the expectant look upon his mother's face.
“I'm afraid Lady Mary comes with terrible news, George.”
His heart skipped a beat at that. Perhaps she had not come about her father's will after all.
Had something happened to Lady Cecelia? Was she hurt in one of her rebellious moments climbing a tree or swimming in the pond?
Bile rose in the back of his throat as a million scenarios played on in his mind.
The urge to get up and go to Fernworth Manor to see for himself was almost impossible to ignore.
“Your Grace, I implore you,” Mary said, glancing at her hands, playing with her gloves still, “please reconsider your position on my father's wishes.”
George's heart dropped. So that was in fact why she had come.
He leaned back in his seat, sighing with deep exasperation.
“Lady Mary, as I have said—”
“You are a busy man, I understand that,” Mary cut him off, her cheeks a little red at the fact. “But things have changed, Your Grace.”
He raised a brow, considering chastising her for cutting him off.
“How might things have changed so much?” he asked, picking a piece of fruit from the table.
He could never truly bring himself to chastise the young lady who had been like a sister to him during his childhood.
