“You want me to marry the Marquis of Quorndon?” Lucinda echoed her mother’s sudden suggestion. “I haven’t even been to my first ball yet.”
“Indeed.” Mama’s hands fluttered nervously. “His mother and I have been friends for ages. Since we were mere girls.” She avoided Louisa and Lucinda’s astonished gazes. At least, Lucinda thought her sister-in-law had the same look on her face as she did. “His title is not as old as ours, but it does date back to the fourteenth century. That is something, I suppose.” As if Lucinda cared how old a peer’s title was. If she fell in love, she wasn’t even sure she would care if the gentleman was a peer. Mama gave Lucinda a polished smile, and immediately the back of her neck prickled. What was her mother up to? “His mother and I have been corresponding, and she happened to mention that Quorndon should wed soon. After all, the succession has not been secured. A peer must look to filling his nursery. And I…Well, with you coming out, you will, naturally, be looking for a husband.”
Her mother glanced at her hopefully. There was more to this than Mama was saying. “Naturally.”
She took a sip of her tea. “You can see how we thought a match between our houses would be extremely desirable.”
“I can?” Lucinda cut a look at Louisa, who had a dubious expression on her face.
“Yes. It is entirely sensible. It will also take the burden off you to find a husband, as I have done the work and found one for you.” Her mother smiled again, and this time Lucinda saw the desperation in Mama’s face.
Lucinda was quite sure finding a husband would be a great deal of fun. She had to tell her mother how she felt, yet she hated to disappoint Mama. Still, this would not do. Lucinda might end up marrying the marquis—if she found herself in love with him—but she wanted to have a full Season. And she wanted to pick her own husband. From beneath her lashes, she peeked up at her mother, but Mama’s face had hardened. She was truly serious about this match!
If only Louisa had had the baby earlier. Although, Lucinda did not know how that could have happened. They had been married a mere nine months when the baby came.
“When was the last time you met Quorndon?” Louisa asked in a deceptively soft voice, drawing Lucinda out of her thoughts.
“Not long ago at all,” Mama said, drawing a raised brow from Louisa. “Well, perhaps it has been some time.” Mama huffed. “A number of years, if you must know. Still, he was a very engaging little boy. Surely he is not much different now.”
“I suppose it would depend on your perception.” Lucinda waited for her sister-in-law to elaborate, but Louisa returned her attention to a piece of embroidery. That was disappointing.
The conversation seemed to be over, but Mama smiled again. “All one must do is simply compare Rothwell now to the way he was as a child.” Mama’s lips turned down at the corners. “Come to think of it, he was much more obliging as a boy than he is now, and not nearly as dirty.”
The last time Lucinda had seen her brother he was wearing a cravat so white it blinded one. “I do not find Rothwell at all dirty.”
Louisa’s lips twitched.
“No, no, my dear. Not now. When he was a little boy. He was always tearing something. I despaired keeping him in clothes. Quorndon was never dirty, as I recall.”
“Now, that does not surprise me at all,” Louisa pronounced.
“In any event. We have been invited to Quorndon’s house for dinner in two days’ time.” Mama quickly glanced at Louisa, smiled at Lucida, and left the room.
“That is the evening of Lady Bellamny’s party for the young ladies.” Louisa had raised her voice enough to be heard, but Mama did not reenter the room. “She must find another evening. I cannot be made responsible for deciding which events you are to attend and have her making other arrangements.”
The moment Lucinda could no longer hear the soft padding of her mother’s slippers, she turned to Louisa. “What about the Marquis of Quorndon do you dislike?”
“I shall not tell you.” She put her embroidery aside. “It is for you to decide if you like him or not.”
That was not fair. If Louisa—who had a great deal of good sense—did not like the man, she should tell Lucinda the reason. “But why?”
“My very good friend, Dotty, now the Marchioness of Merton found something to like in my cousin, Merton, when the rest of us despised him. He has changed a great deal since he met her. Therefore, I shall not attempt to influence you. You will see if you like him.” Louisa rose. “I must see to Alexandria.”
A few moments later, one of the nursery maids came running into the room. “Her grace?”
It was amazing how Louisa always seemed to know to attend to the baby just before she was called. “On her way to the nursery. She should almost be there.”
“Thank you, my lady.” The maid bobbed a curtsey and dashed out again.
If the servant had taken the main staircase—an unlikely event—she would have met Louisa and saved herself the errand. On the other hand, having servants running up and down the main staircase would create a problem. Mama, for example, would not like it at all.
The low rumble of male voices filtered from the hall. Rothwell must be back. Maybe she could get her brother to tell her what her sister-in-law would not.
Lucinda hurried up the corridor to meet him as he started to climb the stairs. “A word with you, please.”
“Of course.” He turned to her.
“In the morning room.” It was the room farthest from the hall, and they were less likely to be heard.
Moments later, they entered the room. “Shall I ring for tea?”
Her brother studied her for a moment, then frowned. “Mama told you about Quorndon.”
“Er, yes.” Rothwell did not respond at first, so Lucinda waited. She never knew him that well, by the time she was out of the nursery, he was at school, but in her limited experience, men would speak if given an opportunity.
“I’ve known him for years, and have nothing against the man. I do not like that Mama has decided to arrange a match. However, she is your guardian, and I cannot go against her wishes unless the gentleman she chooses would be a danger to you.”
So, there was not anything wrong with the marquis. If there were, her brother would know. She supposed anyone could take anyone else into dislike. That must be what Louisa had done. “Thank you.”
He nodded and strode toward the door. Probably headed to the nursery to be with his wife and child. Hopefully, by this time next year, she too would have a husband and child.
Her brother reached the door and paused. “Lucinda, I have invited a friend, Lord Elliott, to drink tea with us. Elliott is someone you can depend upon if you require help.”
What a strange thing to say. “Thank you. I shall strive to do you credit.”
Rothwell grinned, stepped toward her, then tapped her nose as he used to do when she was a child. “I never thought otherwise. I’ll see you later. Louisa will be waiting for me.”
How in the world did he know that? They must have developed a secret form of communication. Or did all married couples know what the other one wanted?
Lucinda glanced at the gilt-edged, alabaster mantel clock. She had enough time to discover more about both Lord Elliott—it would have been helpful if her brother had mentioned his title—and Lord Quorndon before she dressed for tea.
She entered the library and was surprised to find a box of new books being shelved by the under-housekeeper, Mrs. Reid. “Good day. I wanted to find a copy of Debrett’s , but I do not wish to interrupt your work.”
A quick smile came from the woman. “I haven’t seen it, my lady, but you’re welcome to look through these boxes. Her grace sent us a list, and I know Debrett’s was on it. There is an older copy on the shelf to the right of that window.” She pointed to the north side of the room.
“Thank you.” Lucinda glanced at the boxes. It would take longer than she had to go through them all. “I’ll see what I can find in the old copy.”
“As you wish.” Reid turned back to her chore, and Louisa found the book.
As luck would have it, it was only four years old. Finding Quorndon was easy, and told her very little she had not already surmised. His bloodlines were desirable, as was the title. The current Lady Quorndon was the daughter of the Duke of Melbrough, and she was the same age as Lucinda’s mother. They had probably come out together.
Finding Lord Elliott was a bit more difficult. In fact, the only one who matched—a gentleman of an age near her brother’s and who was not married—was one of the rare earls who was not an earl of somewhere. The titles included the Baron Elliott of Bittlesbrough, Viscount Elliott of Bittlesbrough, and Earl Elliott.
Bittlesbrough must be his main estate. Possibly his only estate. The title was relatively new, having been created less than a hundred years ago, making the current Earl Elliott the Third Earl Elliott. Even though his line was not ancient, the first Earl Elliott had been a younger son of the Duke of Suffolk, and that title went back to the fourteenth century.
She shut the book. It would be more helpful if Debrett’s included information as to hair color, or eye color, or how tall a man was. Although she knew more than she had before, it still was not enough.
For goodness’ sake. He is only coming to tea. Rothwell specifically said he was not matchmaking, only introducing me to other gentlemen. Not only that, but he said I should make up my own mind.
Lucinda straightened her shoulders. There was no reason to rush into marriage, or an attachment. After all, marriage was for life.
The clock struck the hour, and she realized she had stayed in the library too long. Her maid would be looking for her.
When she got to her room, Greene had laid out three gowns. “These are the ones that arrived while you were out. I think the blue and cream would be nice, but the green almost matches your eyes. The yellow will brighten things up a bit.”
“It has been dreary.” In fact, the weather had been worse than dreary. It was too cold for the beginning of April. At this rate, Lucinda would be wearing heavy cloaks all spring. “I shall wear the yellow.”
Her maid quickly helped her out of her day dress and into the yellow gown, which was embroidered with violets and vines. Once her hair had been redone into a softer style, she put on her pearl earrings. “I do not think I shall need a necklace. I shall want my Norwich silk shawl with the large flowers on it.”
It was pretty, and she wanted to make an impression on Lord Elliott, even if her brother was not matchmaking.