Chapter 12
Augustus let her walk away, knowing Harriet was upset. He had absolutely no intention of letting her go, but he had a feeling if he pleaded with her this evening, she would simply dig her heels in. He loved her, surely she must know that. Surely she must know he’d been within a second of asking her to marry him. Nothing that had happened tonight had changed his mind, and he pushed away the sense of unease he felt that her good-bye meant just that.
When he returned to the Great Hall, his grandmother was there, obviously waiting for his return, and he braced himself for a lecture.
“What were you thinking, Augustus, to invite locals?”
“I had no choice,” he said, his voice clipped. “Miss Anderson would not have been able to attend the ball unless her parents were also issued an invitation. And it was imperative that Miss Anderson attend.”
“Whatever for? Were they meant to provide the entertainment?” she asked, clearly baffled.
“No,” Augustus said with deadly calm, “they were not. I intended to ask Miss Anderson to marry me this evening. Before everything went to hell.” He brushed his hair back, frustration running through his body.
Lady Porter stepped back, horrified by this revelation. “Augustus, really. Tell me you are jesting. There is a reason the classes are separated, as was clearly illustrated this night. I cannot believe you would consider such a match in any way appropriate, especially now. Her family is…” She struggled for a moment to come up with the correct word. “…intolerable. To have you connected with such a family… It’s not as though they are even landed gentry. They are clearly as common as one can get. Your children will come from a lady, not some common—”
“Grandmamma, do not say it.” The old lady raised a single eyebrow but otherwise did not react to his implied threat. Then he said more gently, “Harriet may come from a common family, but she is hardly a common woman. You will have to trust me on this, Grandmamma. Tonight’s events will do nothing to deter me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Augustus. You are the Earl of Berkley. Marrying such a girl is out of the question, as well you know. It is imperative that this time, you marry a girl of high birth. You have children to consider, you know. Such a marriage would ruin their chances and would be the height of selfishness. I thought you understood this.”
“Times are changing, Grandmamma,” he said, words he could tell upset the old girl. “Tarrington married that American girl not two years ago.”
“Tarrington is a fool—you are not. And Tarrington’s estates were in a shambles. Yours are not. And, if you will recall, his marriage was ridiculed, his wife considered highly inappropriate, and the two have not been seen in London since their circus of a wedding. Is that what you want to do to me? In my waning years, am I to hide in Bristol until I wither away, ashamed to show my face to my friends?”
“I love her. She makes me laugh.”
With this last, his grandmother raised her head and gave him a searching look. “I do want you to be happy and if I thought for one instant that this girl would ultimately bring you happiness, I would not hesitate to accept her. You must understand, Augustus, I have lived a very long time and seen people follow their hearts to tragic results. When this glow of love fades, and it will, you will be left with a wife you wish you did not have and children whose futures have been compromised. And yes, I know it is not the same world I grew up in, but our world has not changed as much as you might think.” His grandmother shook her head as if resigned. “I do not want to see you suffer again, Augustus. If you believe this girl could make you happy… Oh, goodness, I cannot even say the words aloud. Your grandfather would roll in his grave if he knew you were contemplating such a thing. Are you very certain of her affections? I would hate to have you marry someone who is only interested in your title.”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. I love her. I never thought I would say those words about anyone. As I said, she makes me laugh.”
“Does she? Then by all means, marry the girl,” she said, with no small amount of sarcasm. “Augustus, please think about this. You do not have to marry her. Perhaps now you can convince her to be your mistress. Men do it all the time. I daresay more men love their mistresses than love their wives.”
Augustus looked down sheepishly. “I asked her and she refused. I sincerely doubt she would change her mind.”
His grandmother raised one eyebrow. “I’ll ask you one question, Augustus. Would you have ever considered asking any other girl in that ball room to be your mistress?”
Augustus was taken aback by the question. “Of course not. These girls are…” He let his voice trail off and his grandmother gave him an annoyingly knowing look.
“Precisely, my dear. All these other girls come from good families. Surely one of them could make you laugh.” His grandmother looked through the door at the crowd, at the young women who continued to titter and pretend not to stare.
“None of them is Harriet.”