Hardly A Gentleman (5 page)

“Indeed… I…” Jacob could not bring himself to meet her gaze, so he turned his attention to a nearby butterfly. As he watched the creature flit from flower to flower, he struggled to find the right words. Every sentence sounded much better when he rehearsed them in his head. Now that he was sitting beside her, he was sure he would sound desperate and nonsensical, no matter what he said.

“Fine weather we have today,” Margaret casually observed. “It had been raining so often, I had wondered if it would ever cease.”

“M-Miss… Berryton…” His temples throbbed, his mouth was dry, and his heart hammered relentlessly. Why was her company so unsettling? “Plainly put, your fiance is not the man you believe him to be.”

“Vincent?” Maggie’s eyes narrowed as she considered Jacob’s words. “You have a poor opinion of him?”

“I… suppose I do.” When his gaze flickered to her face, and he saw the disappointment in her eyes, he felt a bit guilty. But she needed to know the truth.

“And on what do you base this poor opinion?”

“It is not something a lady should hear.”

“
Tell me
,” Margaret entreated him. “Tell me what you know!”

“He enjoys the company of… other ladies. He confessed it to me,” Jacob’s voice was soft as he delivered the news. “And he speaks of it so callously, I… I thought you should know, Miss Berryton. I thought—”

“You
thought
,” Margaret interrupted, “you thought to ruin my happiness?”

“No, you misunderstand. Your happiness means everything to me, my lady. I thought it was important for you to know what sort of man he is, so you might one day spare yourself the disappointment of discovering the truth on your own.”

“I assumed we were friends, Mr. Billingsley. Perhaps wrongly. I should have expected this from you.” Margaret rose from the bench, turned away from him, and crossed her arms. “You have never liked me.”

“No!” he exclaimed. “You have it wrong! I…”

I like you very much
. He wanted to tell her how he truly felt, but his insecurity stilled his tongue.

“You have given me much to consider,” Margaret said. “For now… I shall be miserable. Your unrelenting help has made me question everything I hold dear. Thank you very much, Mr. Billingsley! Thank you very much indeed!”

“My apologies, Miss Berryton.” His head dipped between his shoulders. “I would not want to cause you grief.”

Over her shoulder, Margaret said, “Good day.”

Then she hurried down the cobbled path as quickly as she could, determined to put distance between herself and the only man who made her doubt herself.

One and Twenty

Margaret tugged off her bonnet as she followed the butler into the sitting room. She was asked to wait—which was rather strange, for it was always Lydia who greeted her at the door. Her grandmother was usually so thrilled by her arrival, she could not wait to see her. Lydia’s curious absence immediately told Margaret there was something amiss.

As she studied a portrait of her grandmother, Margaret whispered, “Grandmama.” If recent letters were true, Lydia’s health was dubious, at best. Whether she was downtrodden or seriously ill, Margaret had yet to discover. She hoped the truth would not be too heartbreaking.

A few minutes after Margaret’s arrival, Jacob Billingsley entered the sitting room. Margaret leapt from the settee and hurried to his side. “Lydia…” Margaret’s lips quivered as she uttered her grandmother’s name. “Is she very ill?”

“She’s asleep,” Jacob answered. “I can wake her, if you would like.”

“No… you mustn’t wake her. If she is unwell, let her sleep. I will greet her soon enough.” Margaret clasped her hands behind her back as she frantically paced the room. “Please be honest with me, Mr. Billingsley. Will she recover?”

“She was ill very recently, but I should like to think her health is improving. The color is returning to her cheeks, and she looks to be in better spirits.”

“What ails her? Do you know?”

Margaret’s doe-like eyes were so gentle and concerned, Jacob felt his heart twinge at the sight of them. Her pinched brow hovered over long, reddish eyelashes, and her lips were intently pursed. Though they were rarely compatible, Jacob could not bring himself to dislike her—quite the opposite, in fact.

“Mr. Billingsley?” she pressed.

“Inflammation of the lungs.” Distracted as he was by her beauty, his answer was a bit delayed. “Her favorite doctor believes she will make a full recovery.”

“
Favorite doctor.
” Margaret’s eyebrow raised as she repeated the words. “Has she been visited by others?”

“Only two. The dire predictions of the second doctor make him the less favored choice.”

“Oh. I… see.” Imagining her grandmother in poor health made Margaret’s hands tremble, so she clenched them at her sides. “Is Lydia… very unhappy?”

“She has been feeling very low, as I am sure you can imagine.”

Margaret sat on the settee and dragged her hands over her gown, smoothing its wrinkles. Having spent several hours in a carriage, she could only imagine how dreadful she looked. “It was such a shame… about Henry. Their time together was so brief.”

“Indeed. It was barely a year. I believe his death caught us both by surprise. It happened quite suddenly.”

“And… two months have passed since his death?” Margaret waited for Jacob’s nod, then she added, “Poor Lydia.”

“She lost two of her greatest loves… your grandfather, and now Henry Calder. I can only imagine how the poor woman must be feeling.”

“She is very lucky to have you.” When Jacob’s eyes met hers, Margaret willed her lips into a smile. They were often at odds with one another, but she knew he was a good man. “If you weren’t with her, visiting her every day, I am sure she would be very lonely.”

“When her health was at its worst, I visited every day,” Jacob said. “Before that, it was only a few times a week.”

“Still… it is more than anyone else has done. If I could, I would visit more often… but London is so very distant. I believe I—” Before Margaret could finish her thought, a lithe tabby leapt onto her lap. The cat nuzzled Maggie’s hand, blissfully purring. “Tabitha!” she exclaimed. “Oh, how I have missed you, you beautiful girl!”

“It seems the cat missed you as well.”

The tabby rolled onto her back and, with outstretched paws, burrowed into Margaret’s dress. “Foolish cat!” Margaret playfully chided her. “When I last saw you, I believe you favored Mr. Carridan. Foolish, foolish girl.” With a sigh, Margaret turned her gaze back to Jacob. “I suppose I should not berate poor Tabitha when
I
favored Mr. Carridan as well. I believe we both know what a mistake that was…”

“Miss Berryton… I am very sorry. Last year, I know we parted on poor terms, but—”

“You were right about him, Mr. Billingsley, and I was a fool for failing to see it. I assume you heard what happened?”

“Lydia spared the details, but I know you did not marry the man.” Jacob was eternally—
and secretly
—grateful for that fact. He could not imagine her as Mrs. Carridan. He could only imagine her as Mrs. Billingsley, and since that was not likely to happen, he should have spared himself the wild imaginings. The longer he carried his unrequited love in his heart, the more he was setting himself up for disaster. One day, he would live to regret his inaction.

“He cried off,” Margaret suddenly said. “What sort of gentleman cries off… and three days before our wedding, no less? Vincent Carridan was
not
a gentleman. That is my only explanation for it. His many mistresses are welcome to him. That heartless cur can go to the devil!” A moment later, she added, “Forgive me, Mr. Billingsley. I did not come to whinge, I came to see Lydia.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Miss Berryton. If you need to discuss your feelings with someone, I would be more than happy to listen.”

“No. I should not bore you with my personal affairs.” Margaret stroked Tabitha’s soft stomach, which seemed to have a sedating effect on both of them. Within seconds, the cat was asleep, and Margaret felt her shoulders relax. “Nevertheless, Mr. Billingsley… I
will
say I thought I would be married by now. I am one and twenty, hopeless, and well on my way to spinsterhood.”

“
Spinsterhood
?” He laughed at the thought of it. “But you are hardly old!”

“Most of my friends have husbands. In a few years, I will be on the shelf. I cannot imagine another opportunity will present itself, and if it does, I cannot imagine I would be foolish enough take it. I am no stranger to disappointment. Why should I be inclined to expose myself to the pangs of heartache yet again?” Margaret threw back her head and expelled sharply. The noise was so disruptive, she made the cat’s foot twitch.

Margaret’s poor attitude squelched what little hope he had. “I understand how you must feel,” he said.

“Do you?
Truly
? As a man, you are allowed to have purpose. As a woman,
my
sole purpose was to find a husband… a task that I have failed at, sadly.”

Tabitha lifted her head and stared at Margaret, sullenly, as if she hoped she would stop talking.

“Again… my apologies,” Margaret said. “As I said, I should not bore you with this. If you compared my plight to the plight of others, I am sure I would have no reason to complain.”

“Perhaps you
will
find love one day?” Jacob suggested hopefully. “I am sure you have many admirers… in many places.”

“Or perhaps I will be a governess?” Margaret said, failing to pick up on Mr. Billingsley’s tepid hint. “I suppose I can think of worse fates.”

*

“
If thou dost marry, I’ll give thee this plague for thou dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow
.” As Jacob read aloud from
Hamlet
, he thought he saw Lydia attempting—unsuccessfully—to suppress a yawn. Though he had a penchant for Shakespeare, he feared he had chosen poor entertainment for the ailing woman. Nevertheless, he continued. “
Get thee to a nunnery, go: farewell. Or, if thou needs marry, marry a fool: for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them
.”

As soon as he finished Hamlet’s lines, Margaret chimed in, “
O heavenly powers, restore him
!” She was reading the lines of Ophelia, among others. She thought it would add to her grandmother’s enjoyment if they recited the play together, but Lydia was unlikely to be moved by Shakespeare. Her somnolent eyes were half-shut already. “Grandmama?”

Lydia’s eyes snapped open immediately, as if she feared she would be caught dozing. “Yes, dear?”

“Are we boring you with Shakespeare?” Margaret asked with a pout.

“N-no…” Lydia’s reply sounded a bit unsure. “However, I do find it difficult to concentrate on the dialogue when my entire body feels wracked with exhaustion.”

“Then perhaps we should read something else?” Margaret suggested. “Or we could play a game of cards? Mr. Billingsley and I could sit on either side of you, and—”

“I would rather enjoy the pleasure of your company, and ask you how you have been faring.”

“I am as well as can be expected, considering my recent… disappointment.” When her grandmother opened her mouth to speak, Margaret quickly said, “And pray do not ask me to elaborate on the matter, for I would rather not waste my time on it.” She had such distaste for her former fiance, Margaret could not bear to hear Vincent Carridan’s name yet again.

“I understand,” Lydia said. “I will not mention it… although I
do
hope you are happy.”

“I am happy with
you
, Gran. I am always happy with you!” Margaret went to her grandmother’s side and kissed the downy curls on top of her head. “You have, and always shall be, the very best grandmother in the entire world.”

“You give me too much credit, dear.”

“On the contrary, I do not appreciate you
enough
!” Margaret countered. “You have always been very dear to me, and I anticipate our time together each year.”

Lydia gently brushed her granddaughter’s hand. “As do I. Now that Henry is gone, you and Jacob are the only ones who care for me.”

“Poor Henry,” Margaret sighed. She saw tears sparkling in her grandmother’s blue eyes, and it was a heart-wrenching sight.

“The year I had with Henry Calder was one of the happiest years of my life. Though it ended tragically, I do not regret it one whit. Although… I confess, my health has not been quite the same since I lost him. It is as if my entire body is rebelling against the idea of surviving without him.”

“Are you…” Margaret’s eyes were downcast, and her lips trembled as she asked the question. “Are you very ill?”

“I
was
very ill, but I am improving.” Lydia exchanged glances with Jacob, and wondered if he sensed her lie. He was, after all, a very intuitive young man. “Don’t fret, dear. Your favorite grandmother is on the mend, I assure you.”

With a giggle, Margaret agreed, “You certainly
are
my favorite grandmother!”

“Of course I am, dear! How could you possibly feel otherwise?” Lydia chuckled at her joke, but the laughter tickled her lungs. She turned away from Margaret as a coughing fit took hold of her.

“Grandmama…” Margaret’s lips dipped into a concerned frown. “Are you alright?”

“I shall recover soon enough.” Though her words were optimistic, her body betrayed the truth. Her fragile frame was wracked with coughs and spasms. When her heaving did not cease, Jacob flew to the older woman’s side and gently coaxed her to lie down.

“Rest,” he urged her. “Do not allow yourself to get overexcited.”

When her lungs finally settled, Lydia said to Margaret, “I don’t know what I did to deserve this young man’s attention, but I thank heaven for him. Dearest Jacob is always doting on me. If only every old woman in the world could be so lucky!”

Her praise made Jacob blush. “And I will always take care of you. You have my word.”

“I know you shall.” Lydia reached up and, with a quivering hand, lightly patted Jacob’s cheek. “You’re a good lad, Jacob. A very lovely lad.”