Phillip stared unflinchingly into the older man's eyes. "Sir, I am excessively fond of Miss Brown. It is my intension to court her."
"To what end?"
He chuckled uncomfortably and spread his hands. "Well, customarily a courtship is to learn whether we will suit."
"This is no laughing matter. Are you entertaining the possibility of asking her to marry you despite your differences in station?"
Phillip broke out into a cold sweat. "Yes, sir, I am."
"And your family approves?"
Phillip winced. How quickly he cut to the heart of the matter. "I have not yet made my intentions known to them regarding Miss Brown."
"And if they disapprove of her social standing?"
Phillip squared his shoulders against that disheartening likelihood. "If she will have me, I plan to marry her anyway."
"What if the duke forbids it? If he cuts you off?"
"I have my own income in a trust. He cannot touch it. I could provide a comfortable living for Miss Brown."
The uncle continued to fire questions at him at an alarming pace. "You haven't mentioned her dowry."
"As I said, I don't need a dowry to support a family, sir. Besides, it is my understanding that hers is modest."
"I see." Mr. Stafford considered his words. "I would have preferred that you come to me and ask permission to court her before singling her out publicly."
"Forgive me, sir." Since Meredith was of age, no permission was technically needed, but Phillip appreciated her uncle's protectiveness.
"Just because you were born the son of a duke and are the brother of a paragon does not instantly grant you my approval."
"I understand." Phillip felt like a child of six quaking at the beginning of his first term at Eton when the stern headmaster assured Phillip he would be whipped for any future disobediences just like the other students. He'd been truthful, as Phillip had discovered. "Sir, I have only the tenderest of feelings for your niece and the most honorable of intentions. I believe she is starting to return my regard. May I court her?"
Mr. Stafford cast a piercing look over Phillip. "She is a good girl."
"Yes sir. And a great lady."
Her uncle scratched his mutton chops. "You should know that her heart has been broken. Twice. I will do all in my power to prevent a third occurrence."
Twice? That explained much. "I will as well, sir."
Another long, probing stare came his way. "Very well. You have my permission to court her for as long as she desires. You do not have my permission to marry her. We will cross that bridge if the time comes."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
Mr. Stafford drew his bushy eyebrows together. "This permission comes with one condition: you must secure your family's blessing."
Phillip deflated. "That may not be possible."
Mr. Stafford nodded. "It is easy now while you are in the first stages of infatuation to think all you need is the girl of your choice and all else will work out in the end. But marrying against the wishes of family creates a rift that often never heals, and that takes a toll, believe me."
Phillip hesitated to ask personal questions, but he took a chance. "Is that what happened when her father and mother married?"
The older man nodded. "Her mother is my wife's youngest sister, Jeanne. When she vowed she would marry the son of a factory worker with plans to own his own factory, we tried to discourage her. Her father even locked Jeanne up to keep her away from that boy. But they were determined. In the end, her father relented to prevent them from simply running off together. Using Jeanne's dowry, my . . ." he stumbled over the words, "brother-in-law started his factory." He shrugged. "They seem happy. But Jeanne's parents never forgave her. They refuse to allow them, or their child"-he jerked his head toward Meredith-"into their home to this day. Meredith has never met her maternal grandparents and likely never will. She does not need that same rejection from her in-laws."
Phillip considered. Would Suttenberg and the duchess be so opposed that they would resort to such measures? He pictured summers, Easter, the Christmas season-even informal dinners-without his family. Having the bride of his choosing by his side might fill that hole, but at what cost? Family tradition ran strong, and the Suttenberg bloodline was a carefully guarded commodity. Generations of great matches had kept the family powerful and prosperous. Phillip would be rocking the proverbial boat by stepping out of traditional guidelines. He risked much. More importantly, he did not wish to subject Meredith to another form of familial denunciation. But he could not imagine giving up Meredith Brown simply because her father owned a factory instead of an estate.
Mr. Stafford watched him silently. Finally, he said, "If marriage is not a likely outcome, I insist you stop pursuing her immediately-before you raise her expectations and subject her to gossip again."
Again? Her heartbreak must have been public, making a difficult situation even worse. He ached for all she'd suffered.
Phillip set his jaw. "I understand, sir, and I agree wholeheartedly. I will do what I can to convince my family to give their blessing. Perhaps if they met her, they would see in her what I see."
Mr. Stafford pursed his lips. "Gain their approval, or you may not call upon her again." He returned to the group.
A disheartening condition. Phillip paced and tested the words he might use to convince his family to see Meredith Brown for who she was, not for her family connections or the lack thereof. He would fight for her. She was worth it.
The day after that magical afternoon Meredith had spent playing lawn games with Phillip Partridge and that unforgettable moment by the swing, Meredith greeted her new friend, Cora Harris. While Aunt Paulette chatted in the parlor with Mrs. Harris, Meredith and Cora linked arms and crossed the street to the small neighborhood park. Enormous shade trees spread a canopy overhead, a haven for twittering birds and scampering squirrels.
Cora described a theatrical production she'd seen the previous night. "I wish you could have been there. There were ever so many members of the ton there-grand lords and ladies wearing their finest. Oh, and that scandalous Lord Hennessy with his mistress." She sighed. "I know it's asking much, but I really hope if my future husband takes a mistress that he's at least discreet. I couldn't stand the humiliation if he weren't."
Meredith snorted. "Husbands ought to be faithful, just as they expect fidelity from their wives."
Cora's voice hushed. "If husbands don't find their wives attractive, as mine surely won't, it seems common for them to stray."
"They ought to have self-control regardless of their wives' attractiveness," Meredith said flatly. "And no more talk about your husband not finding you attractive. You are lovely in many ways."
"At least Mr. Morton seems to think so."
Meredith gathered her courage. "He does seem to, but I fear he may not be sincere in his attentions."
"Why do you say that?" Wide, innocent eyes turned to her.
"For one thing, it's common knowledge that you have a substantial dowry. This makes you an automatic target for fortune hunters."
Cora frowned. "My parents have been very open about that since this must be my only Season."
"Why?"
"My younger sister is in love with a boy from our village, and my father has this old-fashioned notion that the elder sister must marry before the younger, so they have determined to try to find me a husband this Season so Sarah can marry this summer." More quietly, she added, "Sarah is pretty."
"Cora, you are pretty in all the ways that matter. And men who fail to see that are fools."
Cora smiled. "You are a dear."
"You may not think so when I tell you what I think I ought." Meredith chewed on her lower lip. She'd done this twice before, but it was no easier now. "Sweeting, I asked about Mr. Morton, and I heard from more than one source that he only courts young ladies who have large dowries."
Cora went very still. "He does"
In a flat voice, Meredith delivered the blow. "He proposed to at least two of them."
Her friend let out a shaking breath.
"He is a known fortune hunter, Cora. You are a means to an end."
Cora's chin trembled. "He told me he loves me."
"I, too, have fallen for that line. Twice. Both turned out to be liars. I know how convincing men can be when they say that."
Cora's eyes filled with tears. "He kissed me last night. It was so . . . pleasant."
Meredith understood that, too. "I'm sorry. I thought you should know." She guided her distraught young friend to a park bench and drew her down to sit.
Cora sniffed. "I have no other prospects. No one else has paid me any attention." Her shoulder shook. "I thought he truly cared. He said he loved me most ardently. Those were his words. Loved me. Ardently." She put a hand over her mouth. A tear leaked out of each eye.