She speared a piece of Brussels sprout with a bit of ham and ate it. “I would like to have ham like this. Of course, one must have chestnut trees.”
He was very close to saying, Marry me and you may have what you want.
In fact, he had a grove of chestnut trees. For the first time, Gavin had to ask himself why he had not done as they had at Littlewood and fed the pigs on the chestnuts. “This is excellent.”
“What do you wish to do after dinner?” Adeline was sitting at the end of the very small table next to him.
Georgie glanced up. “Shall we sing? Or rather, the rest of you can sing and I shall play the piano.”
He was surprised that she had not offered to join them. “Do you not like to sing?”
She pulled a face. “My skill on the piano is better than my voice.”
Somehow he doubted that. He wouldn’t push her tonight, but someday, he’d find out just how well she held a tune. He could not be the only one singing to their children.
The talk turned to the house party and the entertainments they would attend and those which they would avoid at all costs.
“Mary and Amanda mentioned a musical evening,” Littleton said. “I enjoy my lovely wife’s voice and yours, of course”—he glanced at Gavin—“but I am not going to be trapped into hearing a bunch of young ladies either sing, play piano, or play the harp.”
“I agree with you, my dear,” Adeline said. “You will have enough of that when our daughters come out.”
Littleton’s face turned to one of shock, and Gavin and Georgie exchanged looks as they stifled their mirth.
“My daughters will not make their come out until they are at least five and twenty.”
Georgie cut a look at Gavin before saying sweetly, “In that case, they will have the right to marry as they choose.”
“Drat. I hadn’t thought about that.” Littleton drank a healthy portion of his wine. “I shall have to spend the first eighteen years of their lives teaching them how to know when a gentleman is dangerous to them and how to defend themselves.”
“That should be interesting,” Adeline murmured. “Considering I thought you were a rake.”
Georgie held her serviette to her lips as her shoulders shook.
“As did some other ladies.” Gavin took a sip of wine and forced himself not to spew it over the table at the look on his friend’s face. “As Shakespeare says, all’s well that ends well.”
“At least I’ll have years to find a way to deal with all of this,” Littleton grumbled.
He looked so put out that they all went into whoops.
“Wait until you have a daughter,” he groused at Gavin.
“Ah, but you forget that I had my sister to partially raise.” It was a good retort, but he knew that a daughter would be different somehow.
“I knew you had a sister,” Georgie said. “But I did not know you helped raise her.”
Damn, he really didn’t want to go into this. Still, if she was to know him better, if she was to be made to understand he could not fall in love with his wife, he had to tell her. “I already mentioned that my father was not himself in his later years. The fact of the matter is that after my mother died, he became another person. He let the estates go, he insisted my sister act as the mistress of the house when she was still in the schoolroom, and he became very difficult. I decided there was nothing to do but to take over the role of master and father, but he fought me. He did not want the responsibility, but would not allow anyone else to have it.”
Her eyes seemed to be riveted to him. Strangely, there was no pity, which he could not have borne. “But you did what you had to do to care for your sister and for your lands.”
“Yes.” They were the hardest years of his life. And he still regretted his estrangement from his father. “I kept the estates going, and protected my sister from some truly horrible matches he had in mind for her. I had to enlist my aunt—my mother’s sister—to help.”
“But she would have needed to have been sponsored by a lady in any event.” Her voice was soft and firm at the same time. “No gentleman can sponsor a lady no matter his rank.”
And thank God for that strange rule of the ton. “Yes. That made it easier for my aunt to take my sister under her wing and difficult for our father to disagree.”
“In that case, I’d say that you did an excellent job of caring for her and your estates.” How she could be so certain, he didn’t know. “Almost everyone knows Lady Harrington and admires her. You did what you had to do and succeeded.”
Intellectually, he supposed he knew that, but deep inside, he was terrified that presented with the same tragedy as his father had suffered, he would behave in the same manner. “Thank you for your confidence.”
“You are welcome.” Her words were spoken quietly, but firmly. As if she might have the faith in him that he did not.
The table fell silent as the second course was set out. Even though it was the four of them for dinner, each course still had five removes. He supposed that was to reward the servants. Littleton carved the roast and the footmen brought it around. “I don’t know if this is beef or lamb?”
“Beef.” Georgie smiled softly at him. “I saw the menu.”
“It amazes me how much a lady must learn before she comes out.” It had shocked him how much his sister had known when their mother died.
Georgie closed her eyes for a moment. “If only all gentlemen understood how much instruction we are required to take. Granted, we do not learn Greek and Latin”—she paused and frowned—“but we must master a number of other subjects including estate management. After all, someone must know what to do when a peer is attending sessions of Parliament.”
“I do not think that that has changed very much,” Adeline added. “Back when we had all those wars, the ladies always had to manage and even defend the castles.”
“You have got them started now,” Littleton said with a grin. “The only politics in which my wife is interested is when it comes to women and children.”
“And why not?” Georgie challenged him. “Who else is going to be vocal on that subject if not for ladies?”
Littleton rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “You have a point. Obviously we gentlemen have not been sufficiently involved.”
“Or in the right way,” Georgie said.
Gavin wondered if he agreed with her. That was another thing he’d have to consider.
“I must say that I agree with Henrietta Stern,” Adeline said. “Ladies should be able to vote if they meet the same qualifications as men.”
“As peeresses in their own names they should be able to have a seat in the Lords,” Georgie pronounced.
Gavin had no idea he’d landed into such a hotbed of radicalism, and addressed his friend, “Did you know this about your wife before you married her?”
“Well, I did know that her friends had radical tendencies.” Littleton took a piece of fish. “Therefore, I was not surprised. I am simply happy that she handles it the same way I do.”
“Don’t tell me.” Gavin took one slice of lamb and one of fish. “She asks to have the bill or whatever it is sent so that she can make notes.”