Chapter Five
Markham managed to avoid guests the rest of that day and the next, but he couldn’t miss the ball without incurring his mother’s wrath. Father would rail at him, too.
Aside from his duty, he’d never be so rude to Lavinia and Ringley. This was a grand celebration of their future together. After the wedding tomorrow, there’d be a wedding breakfast, but that was a much calmer affair. He wanted to show everyone how happy he was for the couple.
And so, wearing his black tailcoat, gold waistcoat and his dancing shoes, he did the pretty and began dancing with each young woman in the room. In addition to the guests who’d come from some distance, their neighbors were also in attendance. Even some young girls not quite old enough to be out in society were there, blushing and glowing with excitement.
He enjoyed dancing with them, and the wallflowers, most of all. They didn’t care who he was, they were happy just to dance. That’s all he sought—to make certain all of their guests enjoyed themselves.
During a much-needed break when he stepped out on the terrace alone, Ringley cornered him. “You’ve been doing your mother proud. I don’t think there’s a single lady in there you haven’t danced with. Except Lady Matilda, that is.”
“Do you see? I said no matter what I did where she is concerned, it wouldn’t be good enough.”
“She watches you dance and looks so sad. Oh, she smiles prettily and talks to anyone who passes by, but knowing her as I do I see the disappointment.”
“And how will my partnering with her help? She’ll only gain false hope. I don’t want to increase her pain.” The idea of causing her pain was new to him. One couldn’t be blamed for where his affection lay, nor for any sort of decision made from the circumstances before them.
If only he was able to leave. That would solve the matter with no pain to either party. He’d made his appearance. He’d danced with a number of partners, too, but this one night he must remain until the last guest retired.
With the wedding early the next morning, he hoped that wouldn’t be too late into the night.
After he and Ringley went back inside, Markham looked for who he hadn’t danced with. Of course, his gaze landed on Mattie, who was participating in the lively country dance with the son of a neighbor. She was smiling, her step light, but there was no joy about her.
Once more, he wanted to leave. Being in that room and dancing with everyone but her was subjecting her to more gossip than a single dance would. He waited until that set finished and she stood with Clara, then approached. “May I have the next dance?”
Clara’s eyes grew even rounder than her open mouth.
Surprise dashed across Mattie’s features before she replied. “Yes, of course.”
Somehow, he’d expected to see more happiness in her eyes. “Walk with me while we wait,” he asked.
They strolled side by side, but he was very aware of others around them, so he was cautious to speak. “The bride and groom are quite joyful tonight.”
“Lavinia has a horrible case of nerves, wanting everything to go smoothly tonight and tomorrow.”
“Because of that, I considered staying away tonight, but that wouldn’t look right.”
“Who cares how it appears, you would have broken your mother and Lavinia’s hearts.”
Much like he’d been told he was breaking Mattie’s. “True, and we don’t want broken hearts at a wedding.”
They were on the opposite side of the room from the door outside, so he chose another escape. “Would you like a glass of punch? I think that room is quieter.”
“I would like that.”
He was correct in that the room had only a few people in it. He poured two cups and led Mattie to a table near the corner where they sat. He glanced at her to read her expression, but she had her eyes trained on the cup in her lap. “Are you enjoying the dancing?”
“Of course.” She spoke softly, quite unusual for her.
“I’m glad. We’ll have our dance whenever you wish.”
She said nothing, the final clue he needed to indicate her mood.
“I’ve been scolded for my behavior by my sister and soon to be brother-in-law.”
When Mattie didn’t even look up, he continued. “I’ve treated you ill. I’m sorry for that.”
“You’ve treated me no differently than normal. Whatever others are saying, please don’t think it came from me.” Her hands trembled and he fought not to not reach for them.
“I think we both know differently—not that the complaint came from you, but in my behavior. I enjoyed the other afternoon with you. And not simply because our scheme was successful in avoiding the others.”
“My mother spied us in the garden.”
“I suspected as much. If it had been my mother, she would have scolded me directly.”
“My parents don’t wish to scold you,” she said, “they hope to encourage you.”
He chuckled at the irony. “They’ve forgotten I’m the miscreant?”
“It would seem so. Or perhaps, wicked behavior is much more palatable in a marquess.”
“I’d never imagine your mother to think that way.”
“Nor I, but what else would explain her this week?”
“I’m sorry to have put you in this situation. And I know I’m encouraging her by sitting here with you, but I couldn’t let you continue to think I avoided you.”
“Of course not. You, as host, have many duties to attend to.”
That wasn’t what he meant, but he didn’t want to argue with her. He wanted to squeeze her hand and take away her sadness. Instead, he gulped some punch.
“Did—did Lavinia say something to you?” she asked.
He didn’t need to ask what she meant. “Yes.”
Mattie’s shoulders hunched as if she wanted to hide.
“I won’t embarrass you with statements of being honored or flattered by what she said. It’s true, though. I couldn’t choose a better wife, if I planned to marry.”
Blast it, that was harsher than simply saying he was flattered. Now she had the right to ask why he didn’t plan to marry, given the fact he’d one day need an heir. It was better that he explain himself, but this was hardly the place to do it.
This was likely the only chance he’d have to do so, however, and he’d do anything to end Mattie’s pain. Keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard, he began.
“Do you recall my engagement?”
Now she looked up, her brow furled.
“I thought not. It was nearly eleven years ago. You might not have heard at the time since you and Lavinia were both young.” He reached for her glass. “Let me refresh our drinks.”
He wished for something stronger than punch to steel his nerves. While he felt Mattie was a good friend, he rarely spoke of Lady Susan to anyone. He didn’t want their pity. Yet of all people, Mattie was least likely to pity him.
When he returned, he continued. “My parents and some good friends had a wish that their daughter Lady Susan and I would one day marry. In my case, my father insisted on it, but Lady Susan fell in love with another. On my eighteenth birthday, our engagement was announced. The next day, Lady Susan eloped.”
Stating the facts of the matter were much easier than admitting to the emotions.
“How awful for you.”
“I recovered, but I have no intention of finding myself in that position again.”
“What position? Being forced to marry where there’s no love?”
He knew instantly she referred to herself. He didn’t love her, but he was too fond of her to say so straight out. “I don’t know that I’m capable of love. I’d have to promise something I don’t know that I could fulfill.”
“I see.”
“If only my mother would.” He finished the second cup of punch. “She’s fond of you, you know.”
“Yes, she’d always been very good to me.”
“I believe she’d be as happy as your mother if we cared for each other.” Blast again! He couldn’t prevent himself of making matters worse. “Shall we go back with the others? I fear the longer I sit here rambling, the worse you’ll think of me.”
If what his sister and Ringley said was true, Mattie couldn’t possibly think worse of him, but at least he’d tried to ease her pain.