Page 27 of Lady of Charade
Warily, David approached, though manners engrained on him since youth forced a smile upon his face.
“Lord and Lady Buckworth, I am pleased to introduce my son, Mr. David Redmond.”
The couple, his parents’ age, seemed kind enough as they greeted him.
“This is our daughter, Lady Georgina,” Lord Buckworth introduced the young woman, who rose from the chesterfield to incline her head to David.
David smiled, though his chest began to ache at the introduction. This had been prepared ahead of time. His parents had purposefully not told him who else would be in attendance, for then they knew he would never have come. Why did they care so much as to whether he married or not? He was not yet thirty — nor was he the firstborn. He had plenty of time to settle down.
The poor girl, young and innocent, looked up at him with a hesitant expression.
“Where do you call home?” David asked the family. “I must admit I do not believe I have seen you in London before.”
“We typically remain in Bath,” Lord Buckworth said. “However, your father and I are old friends from youth.”
David nodded, though he could not remember his father mentioning such a man. He wondered if his father had to search beyond London in order to find someone who had not heard of his son’s reputation, who would be willing to sacrifice his daughter to a man such as himself.
“London is wonderful,” Lady Georgina said, a polite, practiced smile on her face. “I have most enjoyed it.”
All David could think of was Sarah and her own response to London, so unlike Lady Georgina’s. Unless Lady Georgina was only saying so in order to maintain polite conversation. It was often difficult to know in such situations.
Dinner proceeded in a civil fashion. David was, of course, seated next to Lady Georgina, but she hardly spoke a word to him, despite his attempts to draw her out into conversation. She refused to meet his eye, her gaze remaining on her plate, or straight ahead, as though she was listening with rapt attention to all that David’s parents and her own had to say.
When David caught his brother’s eye, Franklin only gave him a slight shrug, telling him in an unspoken way that he had no prior knowledge of this ploy of their parents, that he had just appeared for dinner himself. David believed him — his brother had no reason to lie, nor even to care whether or not David married.
After the Buckworths finally departed for the evening, David stood with his arms crossed, waiting for his parents’ explanation of tonight’s arrangement. They did not disappoint.
“So,” his mother said as she re-entered the drawing room after seeing out the Buckworths, a smile on her face, her hands clasped in front of her, “What did you think of Lady Georgina?”
“I think,” David said carefully, “That she is a lovely woman, who does not deserve the likes of me.”
“Oh, David,” his mother admonished. “You are the son of an earl! Yes, you are the second son, but do not allow that to discourage you.”
David rolled his eyes.
“It is not my station in life to which I am referring, Mother,” he said. “But I have to tell you that I feel nothing for her but pity, that she was thrust into this situation, believing that something might come out of this meeting between the two of us.”
“Are you suggesting that nothing will?” his father asked now, standing before David, making him feel as though he were eight years old once more, having just been caught in an act of naughtiness, such as placing a mouse in the bed of the butler — something hehaddone a time or two. “I will have you know that I went to a great deal of trouble in order for the Buckworths to not only agree to have dinner with us but to be interested in a potential match between you and their daughter!”
“I am sorry you did so, Father,” David said sincerely. “Had you but asked me, I would have told you that I had no wish for such a match.”
“Neither did your brother,” his father thundered, and David saw Franklin flinch across the room as he reached over and took the hand of his wife. “And that seemed to have turned out just fine!”
“There is no need to involve Franklin nor Andrea,” David said, attempting to keep his voice calm, as Sarah always did when she was faced with a volatile situation while in the midst of her work. It always seemed to help her to diffuse the situation. “Why did you not tell me of tonight’s arrangement?”
“Because you never would have come,” his mother huffed.
“You are correct,” David said with a nod. “I have no wish to ruin the life of that woman. For she could hardly speak to me at dinner. How would a marriage then proceed? We would live separate lives, I am sure, and neither of us would ever be happy. She seems lovely. I am simply not the man for her.”
“You are going to base that supposition off of one conversation?” his father asked, raising an eyebrow.
“If I had said otherwise — that Iwouldmarry her after one conversation — then you would likely be more than happy to agree,” David pointed out, to which his father did not respond, telling David that he was correct in his assessment.
He thought of his first conversation with Sarah. It had been one that intrigued him. Had anyone asked him at the time,therewas a woman he would be interested in getting to know better, though he would never admit to marriage, as that was stretching things a little too far.
“Please do not encourage the poor woman or her family,” he said with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose, as he felt the disapproving stares of his parents and the sympathetic glances of his brother and his wife.
“What do you suppose you are going to do?” his father asked, standing before him, attempting to intimidate David with his full height of authority. “Spend the rest of your life, until you are an old man, chasing women and gambling away all of your money? Money which comes from an allowance that I generously supply you?”
