Page 25 of Falling for a Forsaken Marquess
William turned around at the doorway. “It is my future that distresses me the most, Marty. Good day.”
William spent the rest of his morning and part of the afternoon riding around and avoiding as many people as he could, but he finally accepted that he would have to go home as his attire was rather dirty and his skin felt grimy and itchy.
He arrived at the Sculthorpe Estate to find that his mother was entertaining guests, and for a moment, William assumed they were Agnes and Mrs Mellors. Stevens informed him that the women were not the same pair but were Miss Philips and Lady Frampton. William did not know who they were and did not particularly care at that moment; all he wanted was a bath and clean clothes.
“Will you have hot water sent up to my room, Stevens?” William asked. “I’m afraid the roads were dustier than usual, and my horse kicked up quite a bit of dirt.”
“Of course, My Lord,” Stevens replied. “I’ll have the servants prepare your water right away. Is there anything else you need?”
“No, thank you, Stevens. That will be all.”
The butler bowed and left to do his bidding while William took the stairs two at a time, eager to get out of his riding attire. Servants soon brought in two pitchers of water and a small tub to stand in while William washed— simply sponging off would not have rid him of the caked-on dirt he had acquired after hours of horse riding. He was no sooner done when Stevens knocked on his door and informed him his mother wished him to meet their guests.
“I didn’t think she was aware that I had returned,” he said, towelling off.
“She enquired about your whereabouts, My Lord,” Stevens explained. “Mrs McGraw notified her of your arrival.”
William sighed. He had hoped to avoid the guests and his mother altogether, but he was evidently not so fortunate.
“Very well. I’ll make my way to the parlour once I’m done.”
“Thank you, My Lord,” Stevens said and left.
William had wanted to spend time reading the new books he had picked up from the bookstore the other day, but his mother clearly had other plans for him. She had not mentioned anything about having guests today, but that was not so unusual as he avoided her and ate his meals alone.
The last few days had become an orchestrated dance of timing his moments spent outside his bedroom and study and timing when to have his meals.
William could not make it obvious that he was steering clear of his mother or she would be offended and act like an injured puppy until he begged for her forgiveness and gave in to her wants.
It was really time for him to return to his own estate, but William didn’t have the heart to leave earlier than he had promised. Loving one’s parents was a cross between having a lifelong prison sentence and being enveloped in a warm blanket. Unfortunately, the older one became, the more one’s life felt caged and stifled.
The door was open when William arrived at the parlour, and for just a moment or two, he was able to observe the guests before anyone realised he was there. William surmised Miss Philips was the pretty young woman, and Lady Frampton was her mother.
The women looked alike, but where Lady Frampton’s beauty had faded, Miss Philips was still blooming. The young woman was not as lively as Agnes, neither was she talkative as she sat quietly by listening to their mothers converse.
Had he been interested in marriage, this would have been the woman he would have chosen as she most fit his ideal. Perhaps Mrs Mellors was not as good as she believed herself to be.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted, walking into the room.
His mother’s eyes immediately turned to him with what looked like relief. “You have finally arrived, my dear son. Come and meet our lovely guests.”
The women stood up and waited for the Duchess of Ramsgate to introduce them. To William’s surprise, Miss Philips gave him an appreciative look, quickly looking down at her clasped hands when he raised an eyebrow.
“This is Lady Frampton and her daughter, Miss Phoebe Philips,” the duchess said.
“A pleasure to meet you, ladies,” he said, bowing his head as they curtsied.
“Thank you, My Lord,” Lady Frampton replied. “Your mother has told us so much about you that we were most anxious to meet you. This is our first social call since arriving in Cheltenham.”
“Miss Philips has also been matched,” the duchess explained. “I was just telling them that Agnes is also from Lydney, and they informed me that they know her family. It seems our world is becoming smaller and smaller!”
“Indeed,” William replied, taking a seat. “Are you neighbours?”
“Not quite, My Lord,” Lady Frampton replied. “But we live close enough that we pass each other nearly every day. My daughter is well-acquainted with Miss Humphries and Miss Lavinia. Such, uh, lovely girls. There isn’t a humbler family for miles around.”
Lady Frampton spoke words of praise, but William sensed she was mocking the Humphries family. He couldn’t be sure, but there was something insincere about the woman’s words.
“Miss Lavinia is Agnes’ younger sister,” the duchess elaborated. “It is a shame Agnes’ family could not accompany her so we could meet them, but I expect we’ll see them eventually. They must be commended for raising such a darling girl.”
