Chapter Five
Just so Piers didn’t make things obvious to Lord Edon and other gentlemen who were paying attention to him, he asked a few other ladies to dance. Thankfully, all but one agreed to dance with him. He was never good at entertaining ladies, but having made the arrangement he had with Lady Stacey, he didn’t worry over trying to tell them something interesting. The pressure to say anything at all was no longer there.
However, he did choose to say something because he wanted to be polite. Instead of boring them with the things he’d recently read, he opted to stick to the usual pleasantries. He asked them how they were doing, spoke about the weather, and mentioned the various social engagements happening in London. Not a single bit of it fascinated him, but he noted that each lady seemed to enjoy those topics far more than anyone had ever enjoyed learning about the cultures he had studied. Lady Stacey had been the only person who hadn’t gotten a glazed look in her eye that told him he was boring her to death.
The evening went better than he had expected. Much more so, actually, because he’d met Lady Stacey. He didn’t know if he would have met her if he had stayed home. It was unlikely she would cry at another ball, and it had only been because she’d been crying that he had approached her in the first place.
He went home that evening feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Now he didn’t have to keep making some lady up. He had one who was willing to play the part of his betrothed. It was such a relief. He hadn’t realized how much the lie had bothered him up until now. Well, the truth was, he was still lying. He wasn’t really going to marry Lady Stacey. But no one else needed to know that.
As soon as he got home, he penned a missive to Lady Stacey’s father. Then he instructed his butler to send it out in the morning. Afterwards, he went to bed, and he slept much better than he had since he’d come up with the lie in the first place.
Upon waking up the next morning, he had something to eat and then went to the den. He couldn’t do anything until her father responded to his missive. He could go to White’s. That was what he usually did, but he wanted to be home in case her father sent a missive back.
After studying the books he had yet to read, he finally chose one on Mesopotamia. Having gone into some detail on the civilization to Lady Stacey, he was inspired to study more about it.
Or, at least, he thought he was inspired to study it. But as soon as he settled into his chair and opened the book, he found that his mind was drifting off to the previous evening. He didn’t know if Lady Stacey had been pretending to be interested in what he’d been saying while they danced. For all he knew, she might have been. It would have looked better to her father if she’d acted like she had enjoyed his company.
But he’d never had anyone—much less a lady—pay attention to what interested him before. Her mind hadn’t wandered off to other things. She had engaged in the discussion with him. It’d been nice. For the first time in his life, he felt as if he wasn’t such a bore. His parents, of course, had been interested in what he’d had to say, but last evening, he’d actually felt as if he had something worthwhile to contribute in a social situation.
He shoved the thought aside. She’d been playing the part of the interested lady. That was all. She’d had to do it. If she hadn’t, how would her father, or anyone else in that ballroom, believe she had enjoyed his company? She’d only been doing what she’d been expected to do.
And that was good. It meant she was good at acting. He needed her to be good at acting if he was going to convince the gentlemen at White’s that they were due to marry. If she could also convince them that she liked him, it would be even better. Then maybe people might start thinking there was something about him that was worthwhile. Just having a lady he was betrothed to had done wonders for his reputation. Imagine if he could be betrothed to one who found him fascinating.
Nothing was guaranteed, of course. Everything he and Lady Stacey had agreed to might fall apart if her father wasn’t as eager to get her married as she believed.
With a long sigh, he turned his attention back to the book in front of him. The author had done a splendid job of piquing his interest in the introduction, but as soon as he began to read the first chapter, his mind wandered. He reread the first couple of pages several times before he decided to give up. For some reason, he wasn’t in the mood to read today, which was odd considering this was his favorite activity.
Since he was restless, he ended up reorganizing all of the books in his den. He placed the books he didn’t need anymore into a pile on his desk, thinking he would donate them. Among them were the ones that had something to do with the Trojan War.
Having discussed the issue with Lady Stacey, he came to the conclusion he wasn’t all that interested in trying to dissect the factual events of the war from the mythological components. He was a gentleman who prided himself on the facts, and since those books couldn’t provide him a concrete picture of the war, they were a waste of time to sift through.
Then he emptied a shelf on one of his bookcases to add future books to his collection. Afterwards, he set aside his favorite books in their own bookcase. Last, but not least, he put all of the books he had yet to read in their own section, putting them in the order he would read them.
He had just finished when the butler came into the den to give him a missive. Thanking him, he took it. He waited until he was alone to open it. It was from Lady Stacey’s father. Her father said he would meet with him at four that afternoon.
Piers pulled out his pocket watch and saw that it was already 3:30. He frowned. Had her father just sent this missive out, or was his butler lax on sending out his correspondence? Thirty minutes didn’t give him much time.
Piers hurried up to his bedchamber and switched frock coats and waistcoats so he was more presentable for visiting someone. Then he combed his hair, slipped on a better pair of leather boots, and grabbed his top hat. By the time he left his townhouse, he only had fifteen minutes to get to the Duke of Cathorn’s residence.
He opted to walk there since the carriage would have only slowed him down. Fortunately, he was familiar with the layout of London. Spending a lot of time walking through town helped immensely at a time like this. He zigzagged his way through several streets and made it to the duke’s townhouse with three minutes to spare.
He tucked his pocket watch away then climbed the steps to the duke’s townhouse. He took a moment to straighten his frock coat before he pounded the knocker on the door. Within seconds, the footman answered it.
Piers introduced himself and stated that the duke had requested he stop by. The footman waved him in, and Piers took his hat off as he stepped into the entryway. He glanced around the area, wondering if he would see Lady Stacey while he was here. She would probably be relieved to know he was going to talk to her father, as he had promised. He knew he’d feel more at ease if he was in her position.
“If you’ll follow me, Lord Whitney,” the footman told him.
With a nod, he did as the footman wished and followed him down the hall, scanning the rooms as he passed them. Lady Stacey wasn’t anywhere. Which was a shame. He was hoping to at least greet her. Maybe he’d get a chance to do that after he talked with her father.
The footman led him into a den. “His Grace will be with you shortly. In the meantime, help yourself to some brandy.” Then he left, closing the door.
Piers released his breath, unaware of how nervous he’d been upon his arrival at this place. But he should have expected it. Being nervous was only natural. It wasn’t every day he came across the father of a lady he was seeking to marry. Even if the marriage was never going to happen, the duke didn’t know that.
Opting not to drink any brandy, Piers turned his attention to studying the room. There was a large desk with a large chair behind it. On the wall behind the chair was a portrait of her father. To the left of the desk was one bookcase, and Piers went over to it, wondering what kinds of books the duke read. It looked like they were mostly biographies of important gentlemen in the past.
Others, however, seemed to be devoted to improving one’s reputation. To his surprise, the duke had authored several of them. One such book was titled, The Importance of Authority. Another was titled, Respectability.
Piers hesitated to take one of the duke’s books out. If Piers knew the gentleman, then he’d know whether or not he’d be irritated to have someone going through them. A book, after all, was a personal thing. It said a lot about the gentleman who wrote it. No doubt, Piers would learn a lot about the duke by skimming through one. After a moment, he decided not to take any of the books out. Her father might not like it, and he didn’t want to risk upsetting him.
He turned his attention to the other items in the room. His eyes widened when he saw the awards the duke had acquired over the years. Apparently, he was an expert fox hunter, an excellent speaker, and a well-respected scholar at Oxford. Next to the awards were letters the duke had received from prominent gentlemen in London and in other countries.
Piers had to admit that everything in the room was an impressive testimony to the duke’s accomplishments. With someone who had so many notable credentials to his name, one would think the duke was the kind of person others wanted to know. But obviously, his daughter didn’t think so. In fact, she was willing to do whatever it took to escape him.
The door opened.
Piers turned from the letters so he could face the duke. The duke scanned him up and down as if trying to decide if he was worth talking to, an action Piers suspected was done to intimidate him. And it worked. Without meaning to, Piers glanced away from him.
“Sit,” the duke said, his tone indicating that Piers had no choice but to do what he wanted.
Piers went to a chair in front of the desk and sat down. It wasn’t until the duke settled into the chair behind the desk that he realized the duke’s chair was taller than his. This meant that he had to look up at the duke. The duke, in turn, had to look down at him.
Another intimidation tactic, no doubt.
Piers glanced around the room. All of the prestigious mementos the duke possessed and the large portrait were probably meant to intimidate him, too, though it wasn’t as blatantly obvious.
“I don’t recall meeting you before,” the duke said.
Forcing his gaze back to the duke, Piers shifted in his chair. “I don’t think many people know me.” When the duke’s eyebrows furrowed, he hurried to add, “I’m not the kind of gentleman people notice.”
“Why? Do you hide in the shadows like a scared mouse?”
Surprised the duke should word things that way, he blurted out, “No. I enjoy studying ancient civilizations. Most people find the topic boring.”
“That’s because it is boring.”
Piers blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected the gentleman to come out and actually say that. Sure, people thought it, but they were polite enough to keep the thought to themselves.
“As you can see, I have led a life worth talking about.” The duke waved to the objects in the den. “This is what people are interested in. This is what’s relevant today. Things that happened long ago have no significance to what’s going on now.”
If Piers hadn’t loved the study of ancient civilizations so much, he would have kept quiet. But he did love it. And because of that, he couldn’t sit idly by while the gentleman criticized it. “With all due respect, you’re wrong. The past has many lessons to teach us. If we pay attention to those lessons, we can learn how to best act when certain situations arise that mirror the situations that happened in the past.”
“Do you make it a habit of going before Parliament to discuss how ancient laws can help us today?”
“No.”
“Then you’re wasting your time. Unless you have influence in Parliament, you have nothing worthwhile to contribute. People engaged in social situations don’t care about some old civilization that no longer exists. They care about the immediate future. Until you understand that, you will continue to be boring.”
Something in Piers rebelled, and he snapped, “I’m not a simpleton. I’m perfectly aware of what mindless chatter people prefer to engage in. They like to find out what the latest gossip is, and they like to compare themselves to others so they can feel better about the choices they’ve made. However, none of that will matter after they’re dead. Once they go, all of those things will die with them. But the course of human history—the rise and fall of civilizations—will continue to matter because if people don’t learn from the mistakes they’ve made, they will be doomed to repeat them. Those mistakes can impact thousands of people.”
The duke leaned forward. “If everyone thinks you’re boring, what good is your argument?”
Piers gritted his teeth. “What’s good for a country has nothing to do with whether or not I bore people.”
“No, but it does have everything to do with what I let you do with my daughter, doesn’t it?”
Recalling the reason Piers had come here to begin with, he shut his mouth. This wasn’t how he had intended for the conversation to go.
“I’m good at figuring people out,” the duke said, clasping his hands together and staring down at him. “You want to marry my daughter so you’ll fit in with others. As it is, you have nothing to offer. But marriage to my daughter will allow you a connection with me, and people will be impressed with you because of it. Then it doesn’t matter how much you bore them.”
Piers resisted the urge to frown, and the only reason he managed that feat was because it suddenly occurred to him why Lady Stacey was so eager to get away from her father. The duke was full of his own self-importance. There was no room for anyone else on his pedestal.
“Though I haven’t met you before today, I did ask around about you after I saw you dance with my daughter last night at the ball,” the duke continued. “A father likes to think his son-in-law will be worthy of him. You stand to benefit greatly from a family connection to me. Unlike you, I have things people are interested in. Gentlemen often come to me for favors. Also, I have, on occasion, had beneficial conversations with Lord Cadwalader and the Duke of Silverton. If there’s anyone with influence, it’s me.” He gave Piers a pointed look. “And that’s why you want to marry my daughter.”
Once again, something in Piers snapped, and he found himself speaking before he could think through his words. “On the contrary. I had no idea who you were when I met her. I came asking for your daughter’s hand because I happen to like her.”
And that was the truth. He did like Lady Stacey. He especially liked her after finding out what she had to put up with from her father. How she managed to stay so sweet after a lifetime of growing up under his shadow was an amazing accomplishment. She deserved an award for it.
“I’d be inclined to deny my daughter’s hand in marriage to you,” the duke began, “if she had any other suitors. But the truth of the matter is that no one has expressed an interest in her. She’s in her third Season. It’s not like I have the luxury of waiting for someone better to come along.” He shook his head. “In so many ways, she’s disappointed me. Despite my acclaim, as soon as gentlemen talk to her, they refuse to marry her.”
Piers bet those gentlemen didn’t want the marriage because of her father, though her father was too much in love with himself to realize this.
“I suppose it’s just as well that you are so wrapped up in those ancient civilizations that you didn’t try to have a conversation with my daughter during that dance you two shared,” the duke added. “I watched you two, and you did all of the talking. A smart move. As long as you don’t let her talk, she’s bearable. The match between you and her just might work.” He let out a long sigh. “I’m not in the position to say no. I will not have her disgrace me by being a spinster. All right. You may have her hand in marriage. You will not, however, do a special license or run off to Gretna Green. She will be married the right way.”
Piers supposed he should keep his mouth shut. The duke had granted him what he wanted. As Lady Stacey had promised, her father had said yes to the marriage. That was what he’d come here for. It not only solved his problem, but it solved hers as well.
And yet, despite all of that, Piers was unable to hold back from telling the gentleman exactly what he thought of him. He stood up so he could look down at the duke and spat, “Your daughter is the only good thing I can say about you.”
Indeed, Piers would much rather bore people to sleep with his knowledge on ancient civilizations than to be a colossal ogre like the Duke of Cathorn.
The duke scowled at him, but then he laughed. “Just wait until you get to know her. Once you realize what she’s really like, you’ll understand things as they are. But it’ll be too late. You can’t get out of this marriage. Now that I granted you permission, you’re going to marry her if it’s the last thing I do.”
Biting back a retort, Piers strode out of the room. He was so upset that he didn’t even bother looking for Lady Stacey as he left the townhouse. When he saw her again, he wanted to be pleasant, and he couldn’t do that right now. He’d just have to wait until he was able to calm down. Once he did, he would send her a missive, and from there, they could make plans on how to do what was best for him and for her.