Chapter 8
As James began to attend Hanover Hall with greater regularity, his valet had become an old hand at quickly packing whatever it was his master needed. He always took his valet with him, knowing how the man liked to be away from Sandford Hall whenever he had the chance of it.
And James liked Samuel Jones very much and was more than pleased to give his long-serving valet a few days respite here and there from the booming, bullying tones of the Duke.
“I think that is everything, My Lord,” Jones said before closing down the lid of the small trunk that James had begun to take with him to Hanover Hall by custom.
“Yes, you have made very short work of that, Jones. Thank you,” James said graciously. “And you have packed your own things?” he added and was pleased to see Jones’ eyes light up when he realized that he would, once again, be going along with his master.
“It will take just a few minutes, My Lord,” the valet said with a smile.
At that moment, the door to James’ chamber flew inward, and there stood his father. For a moment, James found himself inappropriately wondering when the last time his father had actually attended his chamber was.
Very likely he had not walked into that room for many years, and James had a sudden recollection of it being almost twelve years ago when his mother had died.
“I see you are getting yourself ready to go off gallivanting again, James.” His father still stood in the doorway as if it was somehow displeasing to walk further into the room. “But I shall save you the trouble of continuing to pack.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Your valet may return later to reinstate your luggage to the wardrobe,” the Duke said and motioned with a tip of his head that Samuel Jones should leave them.
The valet, doing his very best to hide his disappointment that he and his master would not be getting away for a few days, hastily made his way out of the room, pausing only to bow at the Duke.
“It will not be possible for you to take your customary trip to Hanover Hall this time, James. There are Duchy matters to which you must attend, and I will not have this continual gadding about.”
“What Duchy matters? As far as I am concerned, I have attended too much which requires it. I have spent all week with the overseer and, as far as I am aware, there are no outstanding matters of Duchy business to attend to, or at least there are certainly none which are so urgent that I must disappoint my friend and insult him with my non-attendance.”
“Ah, you misunderstand me. There are more things to the matter of running a Duchy than the simple mechanics of it, my dear boy,” he said in a patronizing tone. “And since you still have not sat down with Charles Holt and I as promised to go through our list, I have been forced to make certain arrangements for you.”
“Ah, so it is the ongoing search for a bride for me, is it?” James snapped angrily.
How could he possibly tell his father of the true necessity of his visit to the east of the county? After all, even if the Duke was well acquainted with Baron Cunningham and his daughter, there was no way on God’s green earth that Charlotte would ever have made her way onto the list that he had drawn up with his scheming old attorney.
It would be pointless to tell his father not to worry, that he had found a most suitable young lady for himself; his father would never hear of it. James had visited Thurlow Manor several times and had a very good idea of Lord Cunningham’s wealth.
It was certainly a respectable wealth, something that many would be extraordinarily pleased with. But it was not the sort of wealth that the old Duke would be pleased to hear about, and Charlotte would certainly not come with the sizeable dowry that every young woman on his father’s list would enjoy.
For one thing, Charlotte’s father was not a man determined to have his daughter married away so fortuitously. It really was the case that his own idea was that his daughter’s happiness should come first and foremost.
As long as the suitor was respectable, he might be a Duke or an attorney or anywhere in between. And so, James already knew that Lucas Cunningham would not play that game.
He would not sell his daughter away at such a high price when all that he wanted out of the situation was her own contentment. And that, in the end, was something that money could not buy.
Lucas Cunningham would make a very fine father-in-law, James had no doubt, but he had a certain way of doing things, and his refusal to play along with such matrimonial games would certainly not go in James’ favour when it came to dealing with the Duke.
And even if the Baron did decide to do everything in his power to have his daughter become a Duchess, he could not possibly spare the sort of funds that the fathers of the listed women might.
All in all, James knew that he had been keeping Charlotte something of a secret, and he knew very well why. The moment his father heard of their regard for one another, he would undoubtedly do everything in his power to put an end to their association.
James wanted things to be further along than they were. He wanted to be at the point at which he was sure of Charlotte’s heart, and she was sure of his. In that way, he would ask her to marry him and, securing her agreement he would simply present her at Sandford Hall as the woman he intended to marry. In the end, under such circumstances, it would be very difficult for his father to interfere.
It was these early, delicate stages which must be protected. This was the point at which, if his father had sufficient knowledge, he would seek to intervene.
James thought it a great shame that he could not trust his father, but to drop his guard would be foolhardy, for he knew the man and his ruthless determination well.
“I have arranged an afternoon tea here tomorrow with Felicia Trent and two friends of hers whose names I cannot quite remember,” he said and wafted his hand this way and that as if the two friends were neither here nor there. “And on the following evening, we have a dinner of several guests, chief among them being the Earl of Whittingham and Felicia. A good many of my friends are coming, and I will not have to sit and explain your absence.”
“Quite so, Father,” James said brightly, even though agitation burned in his veins.
He wanted so desperately to see Charlotte that he could almost not deal with his own disappointment in knowing that it would not come to pass on this occasion. But if he fought his father, if he made it so plain that he was determined to go to Hanover Hall, his father would start to suspect something.
As much as he could not bear it, James knew that he would have to go along with it for now. He had absolutely no intention whatsoever of marrying Lady Felicia Trent and could feel his heart beginning to harden towards the priggish young woman.
Of course, he knew that none of it was her fault. Her father was as determined as his, and it was likely that she had very little say in what became of her.
Still, he did not want her, and he would not have her. There was only one woman in the world he wanted, and he knew that all he needed to do was to continue to court her until he had the confidence of both her and her father. All he needed was a little more time, and if he did not play the game his father had set for him, all would be known, and time would run out.
“Oh, I see,” the Duke said, and it was clear that he was instantly upended by James’ early capitulation. “Right,” he went on as if struggling for something to say. “So, it is settled then.”
“Yes, it is all settled.” James could hardly believe how very convincing he was.
He sounded for all the world as if he were looking forward to the pointless and tedious social events that his father had set him, and he once again imagined himself to be an actor on stage.
“I must admit I had expected rather more of a fuss. I had been quite ready for your objections on the matter.” The Duke seemed just a little less gruff and somewhat more curious.
“Well, as much as I enjoy seeing my old school friend and taking advantage of what I think is rather better countryside over in the east, my dear Hector will not evaporate simply because I shall not see him on this occasion. He will manage, I am sure.” James added a hearty laugh as if to set the seal on his little performance.
“I am very pleased to hear it.” The Duke went on. “You have spent a little too much time over there of late, and I think it would be more prudent for you to stay on this side of the county for a while. Especially when negotiations are at such a delicate stage.”
“Negotiations?” James said innocently.
“Between myself and Whittingham,” the Duke said by way of explanation.
“As far as that is concerned, Father, I am not entirely sure that I am ready to settle on Felicia Trent,” James said as delicately as he could. In truth, all he wanted to do was prevaricate and play for a little more time. “And I believe that Lady Penelope Colchester is a name that has come up between yourself and Charles Holt. I must admit, I find her rather an agreeable young lady,” he said and winced inwardly as he remembered her nodding and smiling and quite literally agreeing with every point he made.
Dear Lord, what a tedious young woman she was. Still, it would muddy the waters for a little while and keep his father’s suspicions out of the way. It would occupy the old Duke, perhaps even pacify him somewhat if James appeared to be engaging a little more in the process.
“Oh, you do, do you?” The Duke raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Well, see how you get along with Felicia Trent over the next few days and then, perhaps we can arrange something with Lady Penelope and her father. No sense in settling for the first one you lay eyes on, eh?” His father looked at him in an almost conspiratorial way and, for a brief moment, James sensed a little closeness between them.
He realized immediately, of course, that it was based on absolutely nothing. His father could only see any worth in him if he behaved as he wanted, choosing his father’s opinions and wants over his own. As tempting as that tiny moment was, it was not worth a lifetime of battening down his own desires and nature.
“Quite so, Father,” James said in a hearty tone.
As his father wandered away, and James looked at the already packed trunk, he felt his heart sink. The idea that Charlotte would be waiting for him upset him greatly, and he could not bear to think of letting her down, nor even her father.
Wasting no time, he sat down to write her a hurried letter, hoping that it would reach her before he had been due to arrive. More than anything, he could not bear to let her down.
He was falling in love with Charlotte Cunningham, and he knew there was no going back.