Page 46 of A Lady's Propitious Match
As he reached the threshold of departure, his mother appeared in the foyer. Her eyes, filled with distress and pleading, locked on to his. “Christopher, please, reconsider. This path youare choosing — it leads to ruin. You have to accept that it will affect all of us. Not just you.”
His retort came with a forceful clarity, a declaration of independence that left no room for compromise. “Mother, I have never seen matters more clearly. This is the best decision, for me, for you, for everyone. You will soon see that.”
His voice, tinged with the weight of finality, resounded through the cavernous halls. With his belongings in tow, Christopher stepped into the unknown, the echo of his footsteps marking the beginning of a journey that would redefine the course of his life. The door closed behind him, shutting out the stifling expectations of the past, and as he ventured into the night, the cool breeze carried with it the promise of newfound freedom and self-determination.
***
Christopher’s steps echoed through the quiet streets of London as he navigated the familiar path to his Aunt Abigail’s residence. The weight of his belongings seemed inconsequential compared to the burden he had shed at long last.
This was something he should have done a long time ago.
He reached the familiar door step and, with a mixture of apprehension and relief, raised his hand to knock. The door swung open, revealing Aunt Abigail, her warm eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected visitor.
“Christopher?” she exclaimed, concern etching her features. “What brings you here, my dear?”
He took a deep breath, the cool night air providing a welcome contrast to the stifling emotions he had left behind. “Aunt Abigail, I have had a fallout with Mother and Graham. I need a place to stay until I can find my own.”
Aunt Abigail’s gaze softened with understanding, and she opened the door wider, inviting him in. “Come in, dear. You’re always welcome here for as long as you like.”
As Christopher entered the familiar interior, the scent of Aunt Abigail’s home enveloped him like a comforting embrace. Thewarm glow of lamp light and the familiar creak of wooden floor boards carried a sense of sanctuary that he had longed for.
They took a seat and Abigail had drinks poured for them, before it was time for him to talk.
“Aunt Abigail, I fear I have made a mistake.”
“Does it have anything to do with the scandal sheets?”
He nodded, sick of hearing about the paper today. “Yes, things have gotten very complicated. It all started as a ploy to thwart Mother’s relentless matchmaking schemes,” Christopher began, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and regret. “She was determined to see me wed to Miss Henrietta Devereux, as you know, but I had other plans for my life — plans that involved pursuing my passion for art.”
Aunt Abigail nodded encouragingly, her kind eyes urging him to continue. “I know.”
“I needed a way to divert Mother’s attention, to create a smoke screen that would allow me the freedom to choose my own path,” he explained, tracing the intricate patterns on the arm rest of the well worn chair. “That is when the idea of a false courtship with Clara emerged.”
“So, that was a plan?” Aunt Abigail looked confused. “I thought I spotted a real spark between the two of you.”
“Well, Clara agreed to play along, understanding the predicament I was in,” he continued, the admission accompanied by a heavy sigh. “And she found herself in a similar position, with her family wanting her to marry a duke that she did not like. We thought we could navigate the charade with ease, never anticipating the twists and turns it would take. It was meant to be a game, Aunt Abigail, a ruse to gain my freedom. Our freedom.”
Aunt Abigail listened with a sympathetic ear, her wise eyes reflecting understanding. The weight of unspoken emotions filled the room, and as Christopher reached the crescendo of his story, the admission hung in the air.
“But in the midst of all of that, I have fallen in love with her, Aunt Abigail,” he confessed, the words carrying a vulnerability that resonated through the quiet room. “I did not mean to, but it hashappened. We share values and interests. I have never met anyone like her before.”
Aunt Abigail, ever the compassionate confidante, nodded with a knowing smile. “Love has a way of weaving its own tapestry, my dear. The heart often chooses its own path, regardless of the circumstances.”
Christopher sighed, the weight of his revelation lifting, if only slightly. “But it was all a ruse. I never intended for it to become this... complicated.”
Aunt Abigail’s gaze held a gentle intensity as she responded, “Sometimes, the most beautiful things emerge from the most unexpected places. It seems to me that you’ve stumbled upon a truth you had not anticipated, but that you now must embrace.”
The gravity of her words settled over Christopher, and a sense of clarity emerged from the emotional tumult. “What should I do, Aunt Abigail? I fear the consequences of revealing my true feelings, especially after the fallout with Mother and Graham.”
Aunt Abigail leaned forward, her voice a comforting whisper. “My dear, the biggest mistake would be not declaring your true feelings while you have the chance. Life is too short for regrets, and love is a force that should not be underestimated. Speak your heart, Christopher, and let the pieces fall where they may.”
It was the same advice as Elliot, and again Christopher found himself far more drawn to that because it led to happiness. Both Clara and he deserved happiness, right?
“I am holding a Spring Ball very soon. Perhaps that would be a good time for you to be open.”
This announcement sent ripples of anticipation through Christopher’s thoughts. The prospect of facing Clara in the midst of the grand event, surrounded by the opulence of a ballroom, felt like a symbolic stage for the revelation that had been brewing within him.
“A spring ball, Aunt Abigail?” Christopher questioned, his gaze meeting hers with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “Do you truly think that is right?”
“Yes, my dear,” Aunt Abigail replied with a twinkle in her eye. “The timing seems fortuitous, especially with the Belmonts inattendance. A ballroom, adorned in the blossoms of spring, offers an enchanting backdrop for truths to unfold. It all sounds rather romantic, do you not think?”
A meaningful silence hung in the air as Aunt Abigail’s gaze held Christopher’s. The unspoken understanding between them resonated like a shared secret, a dance of truths waiting to be unveiled.
“You have an opportunity, my dear, to lay bare your heart to Clara,” Aunt Abigail continued, her voice gentle yet firm. “Bravely embrace the moment, and let the cards fall where they may. Love, after all, is a dance of risks and rewards.”
Christopher took a deep breath, the weight of the decision settling within him. With a grateful nod to Aunt Abigail, he began to envision the upcoming ball not just as a lavish event of social decorum but as a stage for a profound revelation.
It was scary, but something that he needed to do. Aunt Abigail had made that utterly clear and he knew that she was right.
