Page 16 of Loving a Dowager
“It is a powerful emotion, no doubt.” He paused, reordering the words he believed his nephew needed. “I want for you what I was too weak to seek out for myself.”
Nicholas snapped back. “You, Uncle, are no weakling. If a life without love was sufficient for you then I shall not require it for myself.”
“Nicholas…”
“No, I shall endure the balls, the dancing, the insipid conversations of the weather, but I shall choose my wife-to-be based on sound logic, not an emotion that drives men insane.”
Damn. He had failed his brother and his nephew. Walter rubbed his temples. His nephew was as stubborn as an ox once his mind was made up.
Releasing a deep sigh, Walter replied, “As you wish.” He’d have to remedy his nephew’s views upon love after he was done with Otterman’s mess.
Nicholas crossed his arms over his chest and nodded in Otterman’s direction. “Love is for fools, and I’m no fool.”
Chapter Nine
Seated in the front room in her son’s townhouse, Henrietta tightened her hold on her dearest friend as Bertha’s tears soaked through her sleeve. Bertha’s sobs were heart wrenching. The news of Lord Otterman’s past deeds and the scandal of a broken engagement were too much for Bertha.
Bertha hiccupped. “You were correct in your suspicions. I should have listened and heeded your advice. Oh, I’m such an idiot.”
“You are no such thing. You were deceived…”
“Was I? Or did I simply refuse to face reality. There were clues I ignored, all in the vain hope I might escape the clutches of the greedy men of my family.” Faced with the truth, Bertha’s open and honest rational thinking had returned. It was a quality they shared and which had bonded them in friendship.
Her friend hadn’t exaggerated; the men in Bertha’s family cared little about the welfare of women. On an occasion or two, Henrietta had spied the dark tinges upon Bertha’s skin when her brothers were denied what they believed was rightfully theirs simply because they were male. Henrietta pulled back, straightened her arms and took a good look at her friend. How had Bertha gone unnoticed all these years? Her pretty brown eyes, set beneath thin shapely brows, shone with intelligence and a hint of cheekiness. Gentlemen of the ton were fools to never recognize the prizes that lay in plain sight. Bertha needed a man who would treasure her unique talents just as George and Walter had appreciated hers. Squeezing Bertha’s shoulders, she proclaimed, “I shall find you a husband. A man that is kind, caring, and above all else honest.”
Bertha withdrew an embroidered handkerchief from her ridicule and dabbed the tears from her cheek. Hope lit up her features. “A man like Lord Weathersbee?”
Of course, the man would have admirers. Walter was easy on the eyes, wealthy in his own right, and trustworthy. He may not be titled, but women at their age sought companionship and stability, not social status nor love. Disquieted by her thoughts, Henrietta reluctantly asked, “Do you fancy him?”
“Aye.” Bertha twisted her hands in her lap. “I have since we were girls. But after the horrific accident that took his family from him, he dedicated himself to raising his brother’s boys. And well… I guess I never caught his attention.” Bertha raised her head and stared directly at Henrietta. “You are close friends, are you not?”
She took in the eager look in Bertha’s clear brown eyes. Apparently her friend was no longer suffering from heartache. “We were friends, but that was before I was married.”
“But you danced with him just last eve. I saw you. Weathersbee never asks a woman to dance except…” Bertha’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Oh, my. I apologize, Henrietta. I never meant to imply you were having an affair… ignore me. I’m a ninny. I’m a spinster who obviously should remain firmly cloistered away.”
“Stop. Take a deep breath. If you wish, I’ll endeavor to discreetly make inquiries on your behalf.” It was the least she could do for her friend. To associate with a disowned daughter of a duke had placed Bertha’s reputation at risk, but Bertha had lent Henrietta her unfettered support upon her reentrance. Henrietta owed her friend. What harm could it do to inquire if Walter returned Bertha’s interest? She was a Hadfield, and it was their duty to seek out the truth.
Miss Marina White twirled away from the far window of the room where she had hidden in order to give her and Bertha some privacy. The scowl on the girl’s face sent a shiver down the back of Henrietta’s neck. She was feisty.
Bertha turned and asked, “My dear, whatever is the matter?”
Miss White pointed to the window. “Cousin Bertha, the devil himself is walking up the front steps as we speak.”
Bertha’s brow creased. “The devil? Surely not.”
“Indeed, Lord Darlington’s the son of Satan all right.” Marina marched across the room and stood before Bertha. “The man is trouble. I suspected as much from our very first meeting, and it was he who accompanied Lord Otterman this morn.”
The door to the morning room opened and Morris announced, “Lord Darlington and Lord Weathersbee, my lady.”
The gentlemen entered and Miss White tugged at Bertha’s arm. Except Bertha’s gaze was glued to the door and she remained firmly seated. Miss White’s cheeks flushed and a blue vein at the side of the girl’s neck pulsed. Lord Darlington’s appearance certainly evoked a response within the young lady, one that told Henrietta far more than words.
Henrietta sympathized with the girl, for her own pulse was slightly elevated at the sight of Walter despite his crumpled appearance. “Bertha, if I’m to make the inquiries you wish, it would be best if you took your leave now.”
Bertha gave her a wink and smiled. Her friend rose only to sink back down into a curtsy in front of a harried Walter and his nephew. “Lord Weathersbee. Lord Darlington.”
Lord Darlington took Bertha’s hand. “I’m pleased to see you smiling once more, my lady.” The boy’s words were meant for Bertha, but his gaze was solely focused on the young lady whose fists were tightly clenched at her sides.
Bertha linked her arm through Miss White’s. “A visit with dear Henrietta always restores one’s spirits. But alas, it is time for us to take our leave.” Bertha stepped around Lord Darlington and addressed Walter, “Will you be attending Lord Thornston’s soiree this eve?”
