Page 5 of Falling for a Forsaken Marquess
That left him with three weeks to endure more conversations about how important it was to continue the family line with a legitimate heir. His parents had emphasised the legitimate part as though they expected him to run around siring children all over England.
William wasn’t an irresponsible man in the slightest; that trait had belonged to his younger brother and him alone. Honour, loyalty to family, and responsibility were the virtues William lived by and applied to his everyday life.
Unfortunately, it seemed that women were attracted to rakish men who promised the world and failed to keep their word. Jacob had done that very same thing when he promised to marry Charlotte after eloping with her, only to abandon her halfway to their destination and run away to another part of England.
The scandal had shaken the family to the core, and Charlotte was promptly sent to live with an aunt in Wales when she returned home in shame. A big mess had been created by a selfish young man who had exercised his charms in the name of fun, a man who William had loved without reservation.
The betrayal had affected him on many levels; as a man, a brother, and a son, and on top of everything, William had to fix the mess while nursing a broken heart. Understanding his aversion to marriage shouldn’t be challenging, but his mother continued to push the topic, and William was beginning to cave.
At dinner later that evening, he was pleasantly surprised when his mother’s favourite topic did not surface within the first ten minutes of the meal. However, halfway through the main meal, his mother suddenly launched into the dreaded subject.
“Mrs Potter has informed me her son will marry a lovely young girl next year,” the duchess said, cutting into a potato.
“Yes, I heard about it,” William replied, his heart sinking as he forked a piece of fried mutton into his mouth.
“That seems to be yet another friend getting married before you,” the duke added, his eyebrows lifted.
“My thoughts precisely,” his wife said, putting down her cutlery to sip her wine. She daintily wiped the corners of her mouth and placed her hands in her lap. “Perhaps this is a sign for you to follow suit.”
“I disagree,” said William. “I am not a person who follows the patterns of others.”
“But this is such a good pattern to follow,” his mother insisted. “Getting married is such a wonderful experience, son.”
William let his mother’s words go over his head as much as he could as he continued his meal. The food quickly became tasteless and was going down hard only to churn once it hit his stomach.
“Let the boy enjoy his meal, Sarah,” the duke gently chided. “He seems to be swallowing each mouthful a little harder than necessary.”
William shot his father a grateful look, hoping his mother would listen. Although the duke agreed with his wife about his need to marry, the man wasn’t one to poke at the matter like the duchess.
“You promised to support me in this,” the duchess argued, frowning at her husband. “We have to help our son understand that he has a responsibility to this—”
“Do whatever you please, Mother,” William snapped as politely as he could, placing his knife and fork down. “Choose the woman you prefer, and I’ll marry her.”
The duchess’ mouth dropped open for a moment before she broke into a smile. “Do you truly mean it?”
William wanted to yell that he wanted his mother to leave him alone and never mention the topic again, but that wouldn’t be received well. Instead, he nodded.
“Yes. Choose the woman, and I’ll marry her. Please excuse me.”
His parents didn’t bother calling him back to the table despite leaving before dessert. They were too thrilled about what William had just said and were discussing it excitedly. The foolish words had simply fallen out of his mouth as his temper had built, but now that he had given the promise, he couldn’t take it back.
Instead of running away from marriage, William had given his mother the right to marry him off to the most eligible woman she could find.
Chapter 2
The depiction of stags galloping through a forest was likely one of Agnes’ best works to date. The entire scene sat on a piece of fine linen that could easily be stitched onto a man’s handkerchief or pillowcase should the customer wish to put it to good use.
A lady might even sew it inside her manteau to add something special to her ensemble or apply it to a cushion as a talking point with guests. Whatever the prospective customer chose to do with the piece was their prerogative and not Agnes’ problem once the money had exchanged hands and she received her pay.
She didn’t necessarily do it for the money because creating unique embroideries was one of Agnes’ many loves, but it seemed only fitting that she made a little money from her skill. It saved her the need to ask her parents for money when they hardly had two shillings to rub together and keep warm.
Her father had inherited a title and an estate with very little money due to the previous baron’s misuse of the family’s wealth, making the Humphries impoverished aristocrats. Perhaps that was too harsh a description of her family’s humble financial affairs, but their neighbours certainly made it seem that way. Despite her family’s lack of money, it wasn’t something Agnes obsessed over.
She appreciated the respect and security it brought to the one who had it, but Agnes hated its power over mankind. Those who could not handle its power became greedy, covetous, selfish, and proud and often destroyed themselves and others around them.
“I could watch you do this all day,” her sister commented, her chin planted in her hand as she sat cross-legged on the parlour floor.
“Or you could do one yourself,” said Agnes. “You need only try and concentrate.”
