They stepped inside, into the central hallway that led to the front hall and the stairs. “Does this have something to do with my sister, and your recent attempt to find a suitable husband for her?”
Sherbourne nodded solemnly. “It does, indeed.”
“Have you met with any success?”
“As a matter of fact, I have. She received an offer, only last night. I felt it incumbent upon me to come and discuss it with you, posthaste.”
“I appreciate it. If you’ll excuse us, we’ll just go and freshen up, and meet you in the parlor directly.”
“Of course, please, take your time. I apologize for arriving unannounced.”
“Do not concern yourself,” Blix said, heading for the stairs without waiting for Jane.
When he was out of earshot, she whispered to her papa, “Did you propose to Lucy?”
He was clearly shocked. “Why do you ask?”
“I read between the lines. So, did you? And did she accept? Oh, Papa, he isn’t going to like it. He’s so very protective of her.”
He looked decidedly uncomfortable. “It’s neither here nor there, Jane, and I won’t discuss this with you until I’ve spoken to Blixford. In fact, perhaps you might send him down and remain above stairs an extra while. I’d like to get this done and over so that I may enjoy our visit.” He smiled then. “You look very happy and content, child. I’m so glad.”
“Thank you, sir, yes, I’m happy. He’s a complicated man, but I believe we suit quite well, and time can only bring a better understanding between us.” She turned toward the stairs, but stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “I wish you well, Papa. Do try and not lose your temper.”
“Yes, Jane, I will try.”
***
“Now,” Michael said as he leaned back upon a chair in the parlor, a cup and saucer cradled in his hand, “tell me who’s proposed to Lucy. I’m assuming you don’t approve, or there wouldn’t be this apparent immediacy to tell me.”
His father-in-law appeared relaxed, his fingers idly twirling his quizzing glass, an affectation Sherbourne never employed, other than to toy with it. He looked directly at Michael and said, “I approve, most definitely, but I suspect you may not, at least initially.”
“What of Lucy? She is, of course, my only concern. Does she appear satisfied with this prospect?”
“Rather a lot, actually. She tells me she’s in love, that she can’t imagine marrying another, that he’ll be an excellent father to young William. In short, Blixford, the prospect is myself. I beg your forbearance before you pass judgment, and listen to what has transpired since you left London.”
He was speechless with shock. Sherbourne? Lucy had fallen in love with Sherbourne? He was twice her age. He remained composed and didn’t allow any expression to cross his face as Jane’s father told him of how they initially struck it well, of the days that followed, the time they had spent together, the search for a suitable husband, her disappointment, and Sherbourne’s dissatisfaction with each and every prospect. They had become friends, he became attached to William, they realized they held each other in great affection. She indicated she wouldn’t be happy with anyone but him, and he proposed. He wasn’t passionate in his speech, but Michael could see the sparkle in his eyes, could hear the inflection in his voice. The man was completely gone for Lucy. He didn’t doubt they’d been intimate. His mind turned that over once, twice, then firmly shoved it aside. It was bad enough, imagining his baby sister, but with Sherbourne? Good God! It was . . . disturbing.
If it were not his sister, he would find it equally funny and rather romantic. Here was a man widowed some twenty-two years ago, one who loved his first wife so much he’d never taken another, but instead, raised seven children, alone. Now, he was besotted with a woman half his age. Michael could see why the age difference was of no concern to either of them. Sherbourne was young for his age, and Lucy had always been mature far beyond her years.
In point of fact, despite Lucy’s eventual heartbreak, for she was bound to outlive him by many years, he could see that the match made perfect sense, would probably be enormously successful.
But for one thing. He cleared his throat at last and began, “Sherbourne, it can’t happen. I’m sorry, but you simply cannot marry my sister.”
“Why not?”
“Frankly, because of what happened to Jane in Scotland.”
His father-in-law frowned. “I fail to see the correlation, Blixford. Perhaps you’ll enlighten me?”
“I don’t intend to slight your skills as a parent, nor do I disparage or call into question your affection for your children, but your lack of oversight concerning Jane’s welfare is beyond the pale, unacceptable, and not something I can forgive, or forget. She was misused terribly, and I place the blame squarely upon your shoulders. How can I entrust my sister and nephew’s welfare to you, a man who allowed his only daughter to rusticate in the far reaches of Scotland for four long years, and never once visited? I can’t allow it, Sherbourne. You believe you have her best interests at heart, and I don’t doubt that, but you show a lack of wisdom and diligence that may put Lucy and William in a bad spot. Perhaps even in danger.”