A Midsummer Bride (3 page)

Penelope Rose accepted a cup of tea from the Dowager Duchess of Marchford. As the companion to the elderly duchess, it was expected that Penelope would join the duchess for tea while she entertained visitors. This afternoon, the Duke of Marchford and his friend Lord Thornton joined them.

“Tea, dear?” The duchess offered a cup to her grandson, the current Duke of Marchford. He accepted with stoic silence that bordered on sullen. Not that Penelope could blame him, since the dowager had just informed him she had invited several more families to his house party.

“Lord Thornton, would you care for some cake?” The dowager offered a delicious morsel to his lordship and he accepted. As a close friend to Marchford, he was not an uncommon visitor at Marchford House. He was also accustomed to the legendary disagreements between the elderly duchess and her grandson, and had learned to eat his cake quietly and let the combatants battle it out. Penelope also accepted some cake, and much like Thornton, she waited to see the show.

“Of course, it would have been nicer and a good deal easier if you had chosen to hold your house party at our own country seat and not Thornton Hall of all places,” said the dowager.

“I wished to spend a few weeks in the peace of the country, away from society,” complained Marchford. “Thornton has been gracious enough to allow me to host my little gathering at his country seat in Scotland. I intended to invite a few friends to go hunting, not host the house party of the summer.”

The dowager smiled slowly. “Yes, it has become one of the most sought after invitations.”

“The whole
point
of the excursion into Scotland was to
avoid
society.” Marchford was clearly nettled.

“Bah!” The dowager waved a hand at him. “You are a duke. You are unmarried. Society would follow you to Botany Bay.”

The butler entered the morning room and announced a visitor, which was enough for Marchford and Thornton to stand in a calculated retreat.

“Whoever it is, I absolutely forbid you to invite them to the house party,” demanded Marchford.

“The visitor is Lord Langley,” said the butler.

The dowager gave an arch look. “Lord Langley? What on earth is he doing here? Never fear, he will not receive an invitation from me.”

“Actually,” said Thornton in an apologetic tone, “I have already invited him.”

“
Et
tu, Brute
?” Marchford groaned and the men left the morning room.

Lord Langley was ushered in and sat opposite the dowager. “Good afternoon.” He was a well-dressed gentleman, somewhat portly around the middle, but with an active face, silver-streaked black hair, and sharp, blue eyes.

“Good afternoon,” said the dowager. After an uncomfortable pause, she added, “Tea?”

“Yes, please,” said Langley. “I would like it with—”

“I know how you like your tea,” interrupted the dowager. “Sugar, no milk.”

“Yes,” said Langley accepting the cup. “You have a good memory.”

“You will find I have a good memory for many things,” said the dowager with a malicious purr in her tone.

Lord Langley wiped his brow and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. What exactly the nature of the bad blood between the dowager and Langley was, Penelope did not dare ask. They were contemporaries and had known each other a good deal longer than Penelope had been alive.

“Your Grace,” began Langley.

“No, please, you must call me Antonia, the way you always did when we were children.” The duchess again smiled. It was the kind of smile a mouse might see right before being devoured by a cat.

Penelope tried to keep a smile from her own face. Whatever Langley had done to irritate the dowager, she was giving no quarter today.

Langley sighed—or perhaps it was more of a groan. “Antonia, I have come because I would like to know your contact for this matchmaker the whole
ton
is talking about.”

“I am so sorry, but Madam X is very reclusive. I could not possibly reveal her identity,” said the duchess with a bite to her tone. “Besides, are you not too old to be wanting to find a new wife?”

“What? Oh, no, it is not for me,” assured Langley. “It is for… that is to say… the truth of the matter is that it is for my granddaughter.” His voice trailed off such that he ended in a whisper.

The dowager raised an eyebrow. “I was not aware you were blessed with grandchildren.”

Langley shook his head. “Neither was I.”

“So your granddaughter has returned,” said the dowager with a sip of tea. “You must have been quite surprised to see her. And so remarkable since your daughter has been living in a sanitorium for the past four decades.”

“My daughter was married to a Captain Redgrave, as you well know,” said Langley in a low voice.

“How interesting for you, to have such connections.”

Lord Langley put his teacup down on the saucer with a loud clank. He glared at the dowager, who smiled sweetly in return. “I see I have come on a fool’s errand.” He set down his teacup on the table and stood.

“You were right about the fool part,” said the dowager, all pretense of pleasant conversation drained from her face.

“Will you never let go of the past? It has been over fifty years.”

“Leave it to you to be so precise with your times. What a shame it was not a characteristic you held earlier in your career.”

“Why are you so quick to bring up things of the past? Why hold on to such trivial matters?”

“Trivial? Trivial?” The dowager rose along with her voice. “You call leaving me at the altar on the morning of our wedding a trivial matter?”

In the silence that followed, Penelope tried not to gape. The dowager had been engaged to Lord Langley? Well now, this was definitely an interesting morning.

Lord Langley dropped his gaze. “I wrote you a note telling you why I could not go through with the marriage. My parents did not approve of the union. They threatened to cut me off.”

“Coward,” accused Antonia, regaining her seat. “I did not receive the letter until after I returned from the church—after I had waited for you for three hours. Do you have any idea how humiliating…” The dowager coughed, took a deep breath, and regained her composure with a sip of tea.

Lord Langley sat with a thud and stared at his teacup. “I thought there was nothing else I could do.”

“Nothing else? You cannot possibly suggest that leaving me standing at the altar for public ridicule was the only way you could have handled the situation.”

Lord Langley’s face turned red. “What will it take for you to forget what is past, what I cannot change?”

Antonia stilled. “Would you have changed it?”

Lord Langley paused and took a deep breath. “I cannot tell you how I have regretted my actions.”

“I never even received an apology,” stated the dowager.

“Then let me ask your forgiveness now.” Lord Langley’s voice was strained.

A slow smile crept onto the dowager’s face. “Lord Langley does not make an apology easily,” she explained to Penelope.

“Are you going to forgive him?” asked Penelope.

Antonia sipped her tea and ignored the question. “What help do you need, Lord Langley?”

“My granddaughter, Harriet Redgrave, has arrived from America, though she wishes to return and soon. I need her to stay. I also fear there may be unpleasant talk about her, considering how her mother…”

“Eloped with an American sea captain,” supplied the dowager.

“Yes, you are correct.” Lord Langley sounded like someone was choking him. “If Harriet could secure an eligible offer soon, it could stave off unpleasant rumors and malicious talk.”

“So you wish her to make an advantageous match.”

“Not just any match; I need her married off to a man within my social standing. I need to show that she is every bit the granddaughter of an earl. There can be no scandal, no whispers of her being anything less than a Langley.”

“You wish her to marry a member of the aristocracy.”

“I want a title for her!”

Antonia graced him with a cunning smile. “I shall speak with Madame X. Naturally, additional funds are required for a marriage to quality.”

Langley waved his hand. “It is of no consequence, but Harriet must be wed soon. She talks of returning to America. I cannot allow it. I cannot.”

“If anyone can assist you, it would be Madame X,” said the dowager.

“I certainly hope my trust is not misplaced. We have but one month, and that only because I lied and said there was no earlier ship. She must be made to stay. I will not, cannot, lose her again.”

Penelope exchanged a look with the dowager. Lord Langley had clearly never recovered from losing his daughter.

“We will contact Madame X,” said Penelope, “but we cannot force Miss Redgrave to wed against her will if she wishes to return to her family…”

“I am her family now,” interrupted Langley. “I was foolish once and lost my daughter. I have another chance. I will not lose her too! Whatever it takes, whatever it costs, I will see Harriet wed within a month’s time!”

***

Harriet was impressed. “This is the place?” she asked to confirm.

“Yes, miss. This is Marchford House,” said Lord Langley’s footman. The same footman who had to beg her to leave the British Museum, pleading that if he did not bring her to Marchford House within the hour as commanded, he would be given the sack. Harriet was reluctant to leave, but not heartless, so here she was.

Marchford House was built on a large scale, though not ostentatious, which made it that much more impressive. The Duke of Marchford was quality, there could be no doubt.

“Well, I suppose I should go in and find my grandfather. I hope they know where he is; otherwise, it could take some time,” said Harriet gazing up at the imposing structure.

“There is His Grace, the Duke of Marchford, now, miss,” said the footman, indicating two gentlemen leaving the house. One was a handsome man in an exquisitely tailored royal-blue superfine coat, buff breeches, and well-polished Hessians. Beside him was the Earl of Thornton, more soberly attired in olive green.

“Hello!” called Harriet running up to the men. She was more excited than she wanted to admit to see Lord Thornton again. “Good day, Lord Thornton, I did not expect to see you here. I am just coming to meet my grandfather.”

“Good day to ye, Miss Redgrave,” said Thornton with a polite bow. “I believe Lord Langley is in the morning room with the duchess and Miss Rose.”

“Thank you, I’m glad someone could give me directions; otherwise, I might get hopelessly lost in this big house.” She smiled at the men, who appeared slightly taken aback by her statement. Thinking she must have said something wrong, she changed the subject. “I am glad for your invitation to visit the Highlands. I have always wanted to see that part of the world.”

“I am glad ye will be able to attend,” said Thornton, though he exchanged a glance with his friend that suggested otherwise. “Please allow me to present my friend, the Duke of Marchford. This is Miss Redgrave, granddaughter to Lord Langley.”

The duke’s eyebrows raised skyward. “Lord Langley’s granddaughter? It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Redgrave.”

“You are no doubt surprised—grandfather was too last night,” said Harriet. “He did not know I even existed until I arrived, probably because my mum ran off to America with a sea captain.”

The duke made a slight choking sound but recovered himself quickly. “Yes, quite. You will certainly be interesting company for our little house party.”

“Interesting?” asked Harriet. The way he said the word did not sound positive.

“Ye’ll be our only American,” supplied Thornton.

“Oh, yes, of course,” said Harriet. “I’m glad to hear the house party will be small. I do enjoy more casual gatherings.”

“I could not agree more, but I fear we are both bound for disappointment,” said Marchford. “Good day, Miss Redgrave.”

The men bowed and Harriet turned to walk up the steps into the house.

“I am glad ye will be joining us, Miss Redgrave,” called Thornton, turning back to her. He gave her a small smile. “I do hope the Highlands live up to yer expectations.”

“I’m sure they will,” said Harriet, comforted that her invitation had been confirmed, “especially if I have you to guide me.” Her heart beat faster at the thought.

“The pleasure will be mine.” Thornton bowed again and turned back to his friend.

Harriet smiled all the way up the stairs and into the grand entryway. If the outside of Marchford House was impressive, the inside was astonishing. Although Harriet considered herself more of a scientist, she had an avid interest in antiquities, and Marchford House was full of them. As the butler led her to the morning room, she could not help but stop and appreciate the prominently displayed Renaissance artwork.

“Miss Harriet Redgrave,” intoned the butler as she was introduced to the morning room.

“She must not know,” said Langley in a harsh whisper, which Harriet guessed she was not meant to overhear. Her grandfather stood, a tight smile on his lips. “Antonia, please allow me to present my granddaughter, Miss Redgrave. Harriet, this is Her Grace, the Duchess of Marchford.”

Harriet came forward and gave her nicest curtsy to the duchess. The duchess gave her a sweeping look, which made Harriet wonder if she had passed inspection. From the narrowing of the duchess’s sharp, blue eyes, she guessed not. The duchess was an older lady, with perfectly white, impeccably coiffed hair in a distinguished style that befitted her age. Her gown was of shimmering emerald and everything about her from her gold-handled cane to her jeweled slippers looked expensive.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Redgrave,” said the duchess with perfect diction. “I understand you are lately from America.”

“Yes. I left Boston for New York, but my ship was seized and sunk by the British Navy, and I was brought here. I had honestly never thought to visit England, but now that I am here, I am enjoying the museums. They are quite fine in my estimation.”

“Well,” said the duchess with that startled look Harriet was growing accustomed to seeing on people’s faces. “Please do have a seat, and allow me to introduce my companion, Miss Penelope Rose.”