Gently, Meredith said, "It's your choice whether you choose to marry him. Many marry to make a good match, or to please their families, or even because they no longer wish to be a burden to their families and have no other prospects. But I don't want your heart to be broken, thinking he loves you only to discover his true motive later." She handed Cora her handkerchief and held her hand while her friend grieved.
Finally, Cora dried her tears. "Thank you for telling me. That must have been difficult."
"It was." Meredith pushed out a breath. "What will you do now?"
"I'm tempted to tell him I will never see him again, but my family is so happy. Perhaps I ought to discuss it with my parents before I decide."
"That sounds wise." She paused. "If you take my advice, you'd send him packing and seek another. It's early in the Season. You deserve better"
Cora dabbed her eyes. "We ought to return home before Mother worries."
When they returned, Mrs. Harris was saying her goodbyes to Aunt Paulette. "Oh, there you are, Cora." She took a second look at Cora. "Whatever is the matter?"
"I learned that the only reason Mr. Morton is courting me is for my dowry."
"Oh, that." Mrs. Harris waved her hand. "I suspected as much. But that's why you have a dowry, dear. I am confident if he marries you that you will make the best of it."
Meredith snapped her mouth shut and looked downward, lest she glare daggers at Cora's insensitive mother. After they left, Meredith opened her mouth to decry Mrs. Harris, but her aunt beat her to it.
"Many mothers are a great trial."
The statement took Meredith off guard, and she laughed as she removed her hat and gloves. "I suppose. If I am ever blessed with children, I will endeavor not to be."
"You do that." Aunt Paulette kissed her forehead.
A motion outside the bay window caught Meredith's eye. She smiled from the inside out as Mr. Phillip Partridge mounted the front steps. "He's here."
"Mr. Partridge?" her aunt guessed.
"Oh, Aunt. I fear very much that I might be starting to . . . like him." She unbuttoned her pelisse.
"Of course you are. I'm starting to like him."
"But what if he turns out to be exactly like-"
"What if he isn't? What if he is exactly the kind, genuine, caring person he seems?" Aunt Paulette said.
Could her aunt be right?
The door knocker clanged, and Meredith hurried to remove her pelisse and smooth her hair. A moment later, Phillip Partridge entered. Something about his smile felt very private, as if he'd only ever smiled this way for her.
He greeted her aunt, asked about the family, and then turned his full attention to Meredith. "I have a taste for an ice and hoped I might entice you to join me."
Meredith smiled. "An ice sounds lovely."
She put back on her pelisse, hat, and gloves and took his offered arm. Outside, a young tiger sitting in the fold-down seat nodded solemnly at her. Mr. Partridge handed her in and took a seat next to her, his thigh brushing against hers, so warm, but not as warm as the currents zinging through her.
After enjoying an ice at Gunter's, where they laughed over the antics of children playing nearby, he drove to the park and left his curricle and team with the tiger, who held the reins with practiced ease.
Arm in arm, Meredith and Mr. Partridge strolled together as if they had always been this comfortable. They followed the path in to a less-used area of the park where a breeze murmured in the trees and a red squirrel scampered up a trunk.
He pushed out a weighted breath. "Your uncle gave his permission for me to court you on the condition that my family agrees to any possible future union between us."
"Ah. That was the conversation you had with him yesterday." Future union ? Was he thinking of marriage?
"It was. I know that feels rather like putting the cart before the horse, since you may decide that we don't suit, but I must honor your uncle's request."
Her heart began an unsteady thumping, half hopeful, half fearful. "What, exactly are you saying?"
"I am not at liberty to ask you to marry me yet." Turning to face her, he enfolded her hands in his and looked into her eyes with clear adoration and hopeful vulnerability. "I love you, Meredith Brown."
She went very still. Nothing about his proposal resembled the others. This one rang of sincerity.
In his beautiful voice, he continued to weave his spell. "I want nothing more than to marry you-if you will have me."
He wanted to marry her-not ask her to be his mistress. He would marry her even though he believed her dowry was small, even though her father came from the working class.
He stepped in so close that his breath warmed her cheek. "My family will not approve unless I proceed carefully with them, but I plan to do all I can to convince them. I'm certain once they meet you, they will see in you what I see."
He deserved to know all about her. Even if it meant he'd change his mind. She had to tell him.
"Mr. Partridge . . ." She moistened her lips, but her voice all but left her.
"Phillip," he said.
He might regret granting her permission do something so intimate as to use his Christian name. Her knees shook. "You should know that I have been engaged. Twice."
He went still. After a heartbeat, he put his hand on her arm and leaned in closer. "Tell me," he whispered. He brushed his lips over her temple. A thousand little candles lit inside her.
"I . . ." She grappled for coherent thought. Her confession might change everything. "I thought it was love at first sight. My father refused to allow us to continue courting. He said my suitor was a rake and would make a poor husband, but I was foolish and refused to listen to reason. I thought we were in love. So, we eloped. Or so I thought." Her voice caught.
He went still but didn't step away. Instead, he put his free hand on her other arm.
"My father caught up to us before we'd gotten more than an hour down the road. Later, I learned we were not on our way to Gretna Green after all. He had not planned a marriage-only a seduction." She swallowed through the pain of his betrayal.
He tightened his grip on her arms. At least he hadn't recoiled in revulsion.
"Everyone assumed I'd been ruined and tutted about how fortunate I was not to have had a child." Sickness thickened in her stomach. "Once enough time passed to prove to gossipers that I was not increasing, my parents sent me to live with my paternal grandmother. They said it was to give the scandal a chance to die down, but I knew the truth: they despised me. They could hardly stand to look at me." After all this time, it still cut her all the way through, leaving a ragged, bleeding wound. "Occasionally, they write formal, polite letters, as if I were a distant relative." She let out her breath in a half sob. "I read about my father's mill in the newspaper."
"I'm so sorry," he whispered.
She dragged in a shaking breath. "About a year later, I received a second proposal from a suitor. I thought he was different. He sought permission to marry me from my grandmother, but she suspected his feelings were not genuine, that he was only after my dowry. She offered him money to leave. He snatched the money without a backward glance. I never saw him again."
Silently, he kissed her brow again, taking the sting out of those frauds in her past. But the consequences remained.
Her voice shook. "If anyone in London learns of my scandalous past, it would taint you and your paragon of a brother."
Firmly, he said, "I am not interested in gossip."
"But the Duke of Suttenberg has such a high standard of excellence. And your mother . . . no duchess would want her son embroiled with a lowborn, scandalous woman. Your family-"
"Will need to be won over. But no more now than before you told me." He pulled away and looked her in the eye soberly, earnestly. Then, a faint smile curved his lips. "At the risk of sounding arrogant, the Suttenberg reputation is strong enough to withstand a whisper of gossip from years ago that may or may not have followed you here from up north."
With a wan smile, she teased, "That's the most arrogant thing you've ever said to me."
His smile turned to a grin that showed his dimple. "That's because I'm so confident in my stunning good looks and charm that I need not boast."
A huff of laughter bubbled up inside her. "You are correct on all accounts, of course."
He raised his brows. "Did you just pay me a compliment?"
She pursed her lips, but it collapsed into a rueful smile. "I suppose I did."
"You, my dear, are everything lovely, and I will happily compliment you each time I see you. I look forward to trying to earn another compliment in a few years."