The Royal Conquest(17)

Payton rubbed her temples, hoping to soothe the headache she could feel forming. “Do you know, Mama, how exhausting it is to be badgered every day for the past year? My only lot in life is not to find a husband and settle down with a brood of children. Has it never occurred to you I may want more?” she asked softly.

“To find a husband and provide his heirs is a woman’s lot in life. Anything more is sure to breed disappointment,” Aunt Florence said, a tinge of bitterness coating her tone.

Sympathy sliced through Payton’s heart. Her aunt had never been able to carry a child to term, and her husband had been sorely disappointed. Her mother continually spoke of her children and husband as being her joy and the source of her comfort in life. Payton understood that was their life, but she wanted to be the engine behind hers, or she would go mad from the constant plotting and speaking of a man’s money and title as if those defined what was inside his heart.

“I admit a husband would be a wonderful blessing to have, and I look forward to the day I will hold such happiness. But there is more to my life than the pursuit of a future husband and children, and I would like, for once, to speak of something else. Times have changed, mother. More young ladies are marrying at twenty-three or even older. I have at least three more years before I must…hunt in the marriage mart, as Aunt Florence calls courtship.”

“Please do not sprout again this silly idea of yours to pen children’s stories,” her mother snapped, her face pinched with disapproval. “I cannot understand why you are being so difficult. I know you, Payton. You want a husband and children. Why punish yourself with the loss of them because of a misunderstanding?”

Payton’s heart squeezed. “I never said I did not desire a family, Mother,” she said warily. She did want her own family, but there was plenty of time to find a happy situation, and they needed to see that. Most importantly, the man she married must be as ordinary as she. He must be dependable, unpretentious, and incapable of being seduced by the opinions of high society, and he would love and appreciate all of her. Then maybe she would trust him with her heart.

She had not been ostracized like Lord Anthony and his younger sister, Lady Constance, who had the sobriquet the beautiful bastard. While Payton had not been so viciously shunned, she was no longer embraced, either, and she felt as if she looked through a murky looking glass into a life of wealth, beauty, and privilege, of which she had once yearned to be a part. How foolish she had been. She was grateful she had escaped the clutches of high society, and she would never willingly place herself in their clasp again.

“Mr. Konstantinovich has invited me to picnic with him. I consented, and I will ask Lady Victoria to chaperone.” A thing Payton thought unnecessary considering they would be in full view of others strolling on the lawns.

“I am certain I misheard,” her mother whispered, shock evident in her tone.

“It was an offer for an outing, Mother, not one of marriage.”

“He will believe it indicates a willingness on your part to walk with him,” Aunt Florence said.

A deeper throb started between Payton’s brows. “I said yes, and it would be discourteous of me now to decline.” She would not relent, and if she were to win this argument without her mother descending into hysteria and summoning her father, then mayhap she could win the war to make her decisions with little fuss.

A boom of thunder had everyone jerking, and Payton peeked through the windows. The sky had darkened, and the trees swayed under a sharp gust of wind. It seemed as if the day would be spent indoors and the game of croquet, which had been organized, would be canceled.

“A picnic in this weather would be ill-advised,” Aunt Florence said with a smirk of satisfaction.

She was unfortunately correct. Payton would take the time to work on the illustrations for the twins’ fairy tale and would do her very best not to think of Mikhail’s audacious wink, her mystifying response to it, and the sense of loss she now felt because they would not be able to picnic together. Maybe it was for the best.

With a murmured excuse she swept from the parlor. She headed for the Rose Room, a very secluded and smaller drawing room Jocelyn had insisted Payton commandeer for her personal space to work. She entered, strolling to the windows to draw the golden cords for the drapes.

Oh!

Mikhail was rabble-rousing on the lawn outside with little Lord William, Jocelyn’s nine-year-old brother. The boy shrieked and chortled as Mikhail ran backward to catch the ball soaring in the air. They were playing cricket. Payton stood frozen, soaking in his handsomeness and kindness. Not many would have halted their day’s activities to play with children. Lady Emily, Jocelyn’s thirteen-year-old sister, fisted her hands on her hips, and even from where she stood, Payton could see her bottom lip quivering.