Page 12 of Jillian’s Wild Heart (Ladies of Munro #4)

His resolve firmed again when he settled his scowl upon his father. “You can welcome her into this family or reject us both,” Lewis declared. “ That is your only choice. Marrying Miss Kinsey is my choice, and mine alone. I will not be swayed.”

Lewis panted a little when he had finished.

The silence at the table was long and chilly.

Lord Bradford cast his eyes to his eldest, as if considering what damage might be done him.

Then he did the same with his daughter, though his thoughts there were clearly more fleeting.

He splayed his fingers upon the surface of the heavy table.

“It seems our younger children are determined to unseat our peace, my dear,” he told his wife.

“So be it. Miss Kinsey may come for dinner on Tuesday. Sunday is out of the question. She is not yet family. We shall determine, from her visit, the extent of the damage you have done with your hasty proposal. But to say I am disappointed is a grave understatement, Lewis.”

Lewis remained unmoved by this sentiment. “I can bear your disappointment with fortitude, Father. But I expect Miss Kinsey, who is an innocent party, to be treated with kindness and respect when she visits.”

“Hmph,” retorted Lady Bradford, the wrinkles about her mouth deepening as she pursed her lips.

“She is hardly innocent. She knows full well what she gains from marriage to you. You have offered her a life beyond her wildest dreams. And she would be a fool to reject the opportunity you have thrown in her lap.”

“See, this is exactly what I am talking about,” said Lewis, his exasperation pitching into his voice. “Miss Kinsey does not desire a life of luxury. Quite the opposite. I had to convince her that we would live a simple life, for these are the things that bring her contentment.”

As he said the words, Lewis realized he had made a mistake. But it was too late. He could only watch as his mother threw her hand triumphantly into the air.

“What did I say?” she all but crowed. “Did I not say it was a poor match? Simple life, indeed! What does she want to do, raise chickens?!”

Lewis wisely kept silent.

“If I may say something,” came the soft voice of Penelope.

All heads turned to her. Lewis once again marveled at the marriage of warm empathy and iron will that shaped his sister.

“Let Miss Kinsey come and we shall see for ourselves what the truth of the matter is. From what Lewis has told me, she is a little unsophisticated, certainly, but not clownish in her behavior. If she is of good character, all other graces can be learned. I would even offer my assistance, should she want it. But we should not judge her for being unable to supply all we expect from the ton . Goodness knows, the upper class could do with a good shaking too, on occasion.” She laid a persuasive hand upon Philip’s. “Don’t you agree?”

Philip pulled his fingers out from under his sister’s and pushed his chair back to stand. He looked down at Penelope, both in stature and feeling. This was nothing new. Philip copied their father in every way, without the mitigation of parental attachment. Lewis despised his brother for it.

“I do not agree,” Philip told their sister. “But then I don’t even have to be here for the dinner, do I? Miss Kinsey is really coming to meet our parents. I will abide by their assessment of her. As should you both.” He gave each sibling a pointed glance, then excused himself and left the room.

“Well,” said Lewis, huffing a wry laugh, “it seems the family dinner is at an end. If you will excuse me, I would like to write to Munro House, letting my betrothed know about your generous offer to have her for dinner on Tuesday. Shall we say four o’clock?

” When no answer was forthcoming, he shrugged his shoulders.

“Four o’clock it is, then. I hope you will have had sufficient time to set your faces to the pleasant nothingness reserved for such gatherings with strangers.

I would not like you to embarrass me. It goes both ways, does it not?

” And he sauntered out of the room as if he had not just taken on both his parents and all of fine society.

By the time Lewis had reached his rooms, his legs felt like jelly. He dropped onto a chair and took a few measured breaths. But his hand still shook as he took up his quill.

Never in his thirty years of obedience stained with resentment had he spoken to his parents like that.

It was not the liberating experience some might have thought.

But it had been necessary. And it was done now.

He must look forward. A letter had already been sent to the vicar in Ermenbrough.

Soon, they would start calling the banns.

Convincing his family to travel half a day to a quaint, little village to watch him marry a groundskeeper’s daughter was a battle for another day.

First, they must overcome his parents’ prejudice. Lewis was not convinced one dinner would achieve this. But they had to start somewhere. So, back to the invitation.

His hand was a little steadier now. With strokes as even as he could manage, Lewis shared the news with Jillian.

He trusted that she would, in turn, tell her friend the viscountess, both as an outpouring of excitement and to procure the necessary transport to the Bradford estate for Tuesday.

Lady Howell, he knew, would take Jilly under her wing.

A suitable dress would be arranged. Some whispers of advice given.

The fact that the viscount and viscountess’s scheme to shoo her hastily back to Trenton Grange had failed would not stand in the way of the two women’s long and loving friendship.

Ellena would want to protect Jilly, and—heaven help him—she needed protecting.

A few weeks of this torturous confrontation with his family and they would be off to live their own lives.

Lewis had already found a place that he was certain Jilly would love.

It had everything they had talked about, right down to the flower-lined walkway.

He couldn’t wait to show her. It might be just the thing to soothe any ruffled feathers after the dinner.

He pulled the bell and handed the letter to the servant who’d answered the summons.

Then he kicked off his shoes, removed his cravat, and put his feet up on the ottoman.

Tomorrow, he was off to the law office again, preparing documentation for his next case.

He might very well have dinner in town with a colleague and avoid any further debates with his family.

Lewis sighed out his gloomy mood. This was temporary. Everything was moving along. There was no need to linger on matters he could not change. His parents might come to their senses or they might not. But marry Jilly, he would. And that happy-ever-after was worth a month of temporary discomfort.

A small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. Ah, Jilly. His woodland nymph. His own sweet love. His fingers lifted to his lips, a memory from the day before still playing upon it. Yes, indeed, she was worth waiting for.