Hardly A Gentleman (3 page)

“
What a petulant spoilsport she is
!” Cynthia murmured under her breath. When Margaret was further down the hall, she said to Jacob, “For all that she carried on, you would think I was throwing my chastity to the wind! Thank goodness she leaves tomorrow! I cannot tolerate her company for another day!”

Jacob Billingsley lowered his eyes to the floor and expelled a sigh that seemed to go on forever.

Nineteen

“Forgive me, my dear, but you seem a bit…” Lydia’s voice trailed off as she carefully considered the politest possible word. She did not, after all, want to offend her granddaughter in any way. “Are you feeling a bit blue-deviled?”

Margaret’s telltale sigh was the only answer her grandmother required. “Do you remember Lord Malforth?”

“I have some vague recollection of the name.” Lydia donned her spectacles and narrowed her eyes. Her eyesight had only worsened over the years; she could barely see her granddaughter’s lovely face. She feared there would come a day when she would not see her at all.

“I’m quite certain I’ve mentioned him before, once or twice. I met him two years ago, at the very first ball I ever attended.”

“Ah! I believe I
do
remember now! As I recall, your mother disapproved of his age.”

“Well, Mama’s worries are officially at an end. Lord Malforth is now engaged…” Margaret winced as she finished her thought, “to another.”

“And this man… you cared for him?” When Margaret nodded, her grandmother gently squeezed her hand. “Oh, Maggie, I am so very sorry! Such affairs of the heart can leave one feeling utterly shattered.”

“I cared for him, but I did not love him, so it is not as if I claim to have a broken heart. Nevertheless…” Lydia offered her a biscuit, which Margaret accepted with a forced smile. “I would be lying if I said I did not feel the sting of his rejection. Lord Malforth had been dancing attendance on me for some time. As attentive as he was, I was certain I had his favor. Now it is painstakingly obvious the viscount was also courting another.”

“I wish there was something I could say to ease your disappointment, but only time might heal such an ache,” Lydia claimed. “I wish Cynthia could have joined us this year. It is so unfortunate that she cannot.”

“Mm.” Margaret answered with an indiscernible grunt, for she did not share her grandmother’s opinion. After last year, she was not hoping to encounter her cousin any time soon.

“Cynthia might know how to console you. I fear my advice might be inadequate. Courtship was a bit different when I was your age.”

“In what way?”

“To begin with, my marriage to your grandfather was arranged.” When she saw Margaret’s eyes light up with shock, she laughed. “You did not know?”

“No! I was never told!”

“We grew to love one another,” Lydia said. “On the day he died, there was no one I had ever loved more. I don’t envy you, Maggie, or the young ladies who must endure the marriage mart of today. I am quite certain I would have ended up a spinster, as timid as I was. And if you choose your own mate, your happiness is hardly guaranteed.”

“I am sure you are correct, Grandmama.” Margaret was pouting now. “I am sure I shall be a spinster… some day.”

“As pretty as you are? Perish the thought!” Lydia pulled a shawl over her lap and said, “I anticipate some visitors. I am sure they shall arrive any moment.”

“Not Mr. Billingsley, I hope?”

“Indeed… Mr. Billingsley is one of them.” Lydia’s lips were pulled into a frown just as Margaret’s nose was wrinkled with disgust. “Do you dislike him, dear?”

“He…” Margaret could not bring herself to disparage her grandmother’s favorite person, not when Lydia looked so disappointed. “He is… decent.”

“When I invited him here today, Jacob wondered if he should stay away. Is there a reason why you do not like the young man?”

“I have no issue with Mr. Billingsley,” Margaret lied. “He is… pleasant enough company.”

Margaret felt like an actor in a play, as blatant as the falsehood was. And when Jacob Billingsley entered the drawing room with an older gentleman at his side, Margaret’s performance was even more impressive. She actually managed a smile.

The older gentleman was roughly the same age as her grandmother, though his hair had not fared quite as well. It was entirely gray, and his tanned face was twice as weathered as Lydia’s. As for Jacob, he put Margaret in mind of a vagabond, likely because he had not shaved his face in several days. The slight beard made him look a bit older. He certainly looked older than Margaret, even though he was not. Had she not known otherwise, she would have thought he was seven and twenty, not seventeen. Margaret still remembered the boy of fifteen she had encountered two years ago—but she could scarcely see him in Jacob Billingsley’s maturing face.

“Margaret…” Lydia spoke. When the older gentleman was standing at her side, she looked up at him adoringly. “This is Henry Calder, a very dear friend of mine.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, young lady,” the gentleman said with a bow. “Your grandmother speaks very highly of you, and I see she was not mistaken. You are, indeed, a very lovely girl.”

“How kind of you, Mr. Calder. I hope I shall never disappoint you.” When Margaret forced her gaze on Jacob, her smile struggled to stay on her lips. “Mr. Billingsley, it is very good to see you again. Very good indeed.”

“I—” Jacob looked perplexed, and his confusion temporarily tied his tongue. “It… it is a pleasure to see you as well.”

“Mr. Calder.” When Margaret turned her attention back to the older gentleman, she could feel the tension leaving her shoulders. She did not care to hold Mr. Billingsley’s gaze longer than necessary. “Have you and my grandmother been acquainted for very long?”

“Indeed. In our youth, we were very close,” Henry Calder explained. “Unfortunately, we lost contact for many years, and only recently reunited.”

Margaret immediately suspected he was once a jilted suitor of her grandmother. She could not imagine contacting Lord Malforth again, not after the disappointment she suffered at his hands.

“She was absent from my life for several decades,” Mr. Calder continued, “and yet my adoration of her never faded.”

Margaret smiled and said, “That is a very lovely thought.”

“I believe time has very little effect on one’s emotions,” Mr. Billingsley mused. “If anything, the passage of time makes you remember a person more fondly. It makes you long for their company.”

Margaret could feel the younger man’s eyes on her, but she did not dare to look in his direction, not when she could feel her pulse thumping in her neck. Why did she allow him to have any effect on her whatsoever? Surely he was unworthy of her racing heart!

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Mr. Calder said. “And now I shall treasure every moment with Lydia. Every moment is precious.”

The older gentleman sat on the settee beside Lydia’s Bath chair and lovingly took her hand. At the very same moment, Jacob closed the distance between Margaret and himself. Leaning closer to her, he whispered, “I must apologize. Will you afford me an opportunity to explain what happened last year?”

Margaret watched her grandmother for several seconds, worried she would overhear her conversation with Mr. Billingsley. Fortunately, Henry Calder had Lydia’s full attention. “You needn’t bother. So much time has passed.” Under her breath, she added, “
And my good opinion, once lost, is lost forever
.”

“Pardon?”

“It is a quote, Mr. Billingsley, from my favorite novel.
Pride and Prejudice
. You should read it to my grandmother, as I am sure she would enjoy it immensely.
You
, however, are not likely to appreciate the nuance of it.”

“Dare I ask… why is that?”

“Well…” Margaret sat straight in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. “To begin with, I am certain you would fail to grasp that it was Wickham’s caddish behavior that nearly ruined poor Lydia Bennett.”

Margaret’s words made the young man flinch. His eyelashes fluttered slightly, as if someone had punched his gut. “I do not want to discredit your cousin in any way, but—” He, too, glanced in Lydia’s direction. Like Margaret, he did not want any portion of their conversation to be overheard. “We were alone because Miss Prescott insisted on it, and the kiss was not my choice.”

“Do you expect me to care, Mr. Billingsley?” She thought he looked hurt, so she added, “I apologize for my rudeness, but as I said, it was such a long time ago. My mind is now consumed by more recent disappointments.”

Jacob hoisted a blonde eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Indeed. Why should I spare a thought for you and Cynthia when my recent disappointment at the hands of Lord Malforth is far worse?” Before he could ask for an explanation, she added, “You needn’t know the details. It is only worth telling you that I have foresworn men forever.”

“
Truly
?” Her outlandish avowal made him chuckle. “You would let one man ruin you for the rest?”

“It is not simply
one man
, Mr. Billingsley. Every man has disappointed me. Your sex is a veritable wellspring of disappointment.”

“Would you say that to Mr. Calder?” Jacob asked, directing her attention to the older couple. Presently, Henry Calder’s lips were pressed against Lydia’s hand. As cynical as she felt, even Margaret was touched by the sight. It warmed her heart to think that Lydia, at nearly seventy, could find a devoted beau.

“Love can happen at any time, Miss Berryton,” Jacob insisted. “And you should not close your heart to the possibility of it.”

*

The next day, Margaret pretended to busy herself with needlepoint while Jacob read to Lydia. He had chosen a special novel for the day:
Pride and Prejudice.
Before he read aloud, he made sure to tell Lydia it was her granddaughter’s request.

Margaret’s skin prickled as he read the first line: “
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of good fortune must be in want of a wife
.” Mr. Billingsley’s voice had deepened over the last two years, and she found it to be rather sonorous and soothing. She even closed her eyes once or twice, silently enjoying the sound of it. Had he not been reading her favorite novel, she might not have paid attention so closely.

He was not two paragraphs into the second chapter when Lydia’s body was racked by a fit of coughs. Jacob closed the book and rushed to her side, inquiring about her health. Together, Jacob and Margaret determined it would be better if she retired to her room for a rest.

“Oh, you silly children, you needn’t fuss over me!” Lydia insisted, though her protests were fruitless. Mr. Billingsley was already drawing her Bath chair into the hallway. “If anything, it is only a slight cold. Fetch me a bit of tea, and I am sure I shall recover quickly.”

“I will have the maid bring tea,” Margaret began, “
to your room
. You need to lie down, Grandmama. I hate to see you in such poor health.”

Lydia might have protested again, if not for the fact that a second fit betrayed her. The coughing did not cease until she was in her room, where Jacob helped her into her bed. Margaret laid a hand against her grandmother’s cheek, commented on its warmth, and sent the maid for tea. As Jacob pulled the blankets over Lydia’s body, she confessed she’d had “quite enough of their fretting.” Though she sent them away, she knew she was lucky to have them. It would have been much worse if no one cared for her well-being.

When they were banished to the hall, Jacob asked Margaret, “would you join me for a stroll?”

Margaret paused for several seconds before she gave him an answer. She hoped to think of a sufficient reason to refuse him, but her wits failed her. “I… suppose I shall.”

When they entered the garden, Margaret was greeted by the scent of lavender, as well as an unwelcome thought. “The last time we were in the garden… Cynthia was with us,” she said.

“I suppose she was.” Jacob made a conscious effort to sound as disinterested in Cynthia as he possibly could.

Margaret turned her eyes to the sky, where a vermillion sun has half-veiled behind purple clouds. The sun was setting early. Soon, Mr. Billingsley would take his leave, and she would likely not see him for another year. It was a strangely disheartening thought.

“Might I ask you a question, Mr. Billingsley?”
“Of course.”

“I…” Margaret lightly nibbled on her lower lip as she hesitated. “Last year, it was Cynthia who asked this question. Although… I confess, the thought has also entered my mind, and more than once.”

“Well? What is the question?” he asked. “Or do you intend to hold me in suspense forever?”

“Good gracious, Mr. Billingsley! Have you no patience? I hesitate to ask the question because I hate to sound unkind.” Margaret paused by a rosebush and lightly brushed her fingertips across the petals. “Why do you spend so much time with my grandmother? Why are you always reading to her and doting on her?”

“Your grandmother is a remarkably kind-hearted woman. Is she not worthy of being doted on?” Margaret did not look satisfied by his answer, so he added, “Perhaps a lack of affection is to blame?”

“What do you mean?”

Jacob’s eyes were downcast. “My mother died in childbirth, and I had no grandmother of my own. Even my own father paid little attention to me, and he certainly did not shower me with affection. Your grandmother was the first person to acknowledge my existence. She was the first who cared.”

When Margaret saw him dab his eye with his thumb, she asked, “Did my question make you sad? I’m very sorry…”

“You needn’t apologize. I have no reason to pity myself. Lydia has shown me all the kindness and maternal love I could ever hope for, and for that, I shall be forever indebted to her.” Jacob lazily shuffled his feet along the cobbled path, disrupting the stones. “I hope you know how lucky you are to have her in your life.”

“I am! Why do you think I visit her every year? She is, without question, my favorite person in the entire world.” Margaret made an attempt to smile at Jacob, but he would not meet her gaze. He was ashamed of the tears in his eyes. “In a sense, she
is
your grandmother, as well as mine.”