“Knowing Shrewsberry as I do, I’m fairly certain this manner of his would change the moment you were his wife.”
“Are you saying he’s pretending to be the man he believes I want for the sake of trapping me into marriage?” Margaret looked appalled.
George could not fault her. “The earl is as cunning as they come, Margaret. In fact, if ever there was a rake for you to beware of, Shrewsberry is the man.”
“But he... he seems so nice.”
“And I didn’t, I suppose?”
“You appeared to be precisely the sort of roguish scoundrel who’d happily lead an unsuspecting woman into dark corners, whereas he comes across as something of a fop.”
“He is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, my dear, while I am quite the opposite.”
“A sheep in wolf’s clothing?” Humor pulled at her lips and brightened her eyes.
He shrugged. “If you like.”
“I do. Very much.” She held his gaze. “You needn’t concern yourself with Shrewsberry, by the way. I hope you realize that.”
“Of course.” He finished his biscuit and washed it down with some tea. “Though it would be easy to rid him of any possible misconceptions if you were to say...announce your engagement to me?”
“We have an agreement, you and I,” Margaret said, though she sounded as if she had to remind herself of the fact. “Three months.”
“Two and a half now by my estimation.”
“Quite right,” she agreed. “I trust you’ve not tired of me yet?”
“I’ll never tire of you,” he assured her, “and I would happily marry you tomorrow if you were willing. But I do see the sense in your suggestion.”
“Good. Because it has occurred to me that there’s much we still don’t know about each other. For instance, do you play a musical instrument?”
“No.”
“Would you mind if I did?”
“Of course not.” He pondered her comment. “Which instrument do you play?”
“The harp.” When he said nothing in response to this she asked, “Do you favor Town or country?”
“The country. The air is cleaner there. I feel better in general since it offers more opportunity for exercise.”
“That reminds me. How is Miss Granger fairing?”
He appreciated her asking. “I’ve helped her make an actionable plan she can follow. It’s nearly impossible for her to manage alone, so I’ve also hired a couple of farm hands who can work the fields, leaving her to tend the animals and take care of her brother.”
“And her mother?”
“My own physician has assessed her, but I fear there’s not much to be done where she is concerned.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.” Margaret paused, then added, “Miss Granger is incredibly lucky to have you, George. You’re remarkably kind.”
“I’ve a duty toward my tenants,” he said, a little embarrassed by the heat creeping into his cheeks.
“So do many other men, but I’m not certain they would have done nearly as much as you have. It’s quite commendable and...” She cleared her throat and averted her gaze.
“And what?” he prompted, noting that she was now the one to blush.
She shrugged one shoulder. “Your actions are much to be admired. Indeed, I do not believe it would be any hardship at all to love you.”
Her confession rendered him mute. He’d not thought overly much about love until now, besides deciding he wanted to love his wife and for her to love him back, but Margaret’s words made him wonder about his own current feelings. For her, specifically. The attraction he felt could not be denied. He’d even come to care for her to some extent in the short time he’d known her. And he’d missed her, too, and was very glad to see her again. But surely something as powerful as love took longer to manifest.
“Oh dear, I fear I’ve made you uncomfortable,” she said. “Please, forget I said anything. I’m not making any declaration, I’m just suggesting what could be true in the future. When we’ve spent more time together.”
“I understand,” he said, unwilling to deny or confirm the extent of his feelings for her at the moment.
She smiled, sipped her tea, then said, “Perhaps we can start by creating memories.”
“Sounds like an excellent plan. If you’re not busy tomorrow and the weather agrees, I’d like to take you boating on the Serpentine.”
“I’d enjoy that very much.”
Happy to have gotten their courtship smoothly underway, George selected another biscuit. Once he got home he’d make a list of all the things they could do together within the coming weeks in order to strengthen their bond.
THE NEXT MONTH AND a half were delightful, with the exception of an increasingly vexing earl. Whenever George escorted Margaret to the park, Shrewsberry would happen upon them as if by chance. When they visited the British Museum, Shrewsberry popped out from behind a statue and struck up a conversation, and at the theatre, he somehow managed to finagle himself into the Roxley box.
George did his best to hold himself in check, to politely try and discourage the earl, but really, it was starting to be too much. And poor Margaret was caught in the middle.
“Miss Hollyoak has no interest in you,” George told Shrewsberry when he happened upon him one day at his club.
“You’re wrong,” Shrewsberry said, “and I intend to prove it.”
“I really must insist you stop.”
Shrewsberry snorted. “I’ve always liked you, Townsbridge. You’ve never infringed on my territory before, but this sudden interest you’ve developed in Miss Hollyoak could become problematic, unless you walk away now.”
“Is that a threat?”
Shrewsberry raised his chin and afforded George the most condescending stare in the world. “She’s stringing you along for the sake of making me jealous, old chap. It boggles the mind that you can’t see that.”
George shook his head. “There’s no reasoning with a deluded man.”
“Miss Hollyoak will be mine,” Shrewsberry called out as George walked away. “Mark my word!”
During the next two weeks, Margaret and George were granted a reprieve from the earl’s interference. Initially, George believed the earl had listened to him after all, until he’d learned that his absence was caused by a bruise he’d sustained to his right eye the day after George had spoken with him.
Relieved to know they could have their outings in peace, they enjoyed a couple of evenings at Vauxhall Garden with Margaret’s parents, and even flew a kite they’d made together one rainy afternoon.
With each added moment in Margaret’s company, George’s fondness for her increased until he was certain he loved her to distraction.
“I saw Shrewsberry again this morning,” Margaret told him the next time George came to call. “He stopped by with that bouquet over there and apologized for his lack of attention these past two weeks.”
George glanced at the lovely collection of roses. “Annoyingly persistent, isn’t he?”
“Considering I’ve turned him down every time he’s invited me to join him for a walk or a ride in the park, I’d say so.” She pressed her lips together, creating an expression George had come to identify as irritation. “Of course, whenever he does show, I have to sit down to tea with him, which has become quite a chore. Honestly, George, I’m not sure what I ever saw in him. The man has no thought of his own. He just sat on that sofa for one full hour and bobbed his head in response to everything I said.”