Page 8

Mr. and Mrs. Allen stayed in London until the middle of May when the warming weather made the city a bit more smelly and a bit less comfortable. In the months she was there, Mary continued to learn about society and the world around her from her new circle of friends.

At first, it felt a bit odd that they were all significantly older than she was, except Miss Carlton, but she became accustomed to it quickly.

Their conversation was not boring drivel filled with gossip of people she didn’t know.

Instead, they often discussed the state of the world around them and looked for ways they could make a difference.

It wasn’t all seriousness, though. Mary’s new friends insisted on taking her shopping often.

Her pin money was not enough for her to dress with the same expensive elegance as they did, but she learned how to make herself appear to the best advantage possible.

She also learned the joy that comes with simply browsing the shops and purchasing little items that struck her fancy.

Despite their relative closeness in age, Mary found she did not get along well with Miss Carlton, so they never became the good friends she had hoped for.

Miss Carlton seemed to carry a bitterness when it came to men, and she often belligerently espoused ideas about women’s rights that Mary could not agree with.

Mary held firm to the idea that it was her legal and moral duty to submit herself wholly to her husband and his concerns.

Since they had such differing views on such an important issue, there could be no true meeting of the minds nor true friendship.

Mr. and Mrs. Allen were invited to many evening entertainments: dinner parties, musicales, card parties, and balls.

Mrs. Allen was grateful she was never even asked to help with musical entertainment.

Though she had been proficient on the piano before her marriage, she hadn’t practiced much since, and she could hear that the ladies who did perform were much more pleasant to listen to than she had been.

When they attended balls, Mr. Allen always stood up once with his wife, even though dancing with one’s spouse in public was not common.

He claimed it was because he had never danced with her before their marriage.

Aside from that dance, however, Mary was usually asked to dance at least half the time.

It was an odd feeling. Before her marriage, dancing always had the cloud of potential courtship hovering over it, so very few of the local men wished to dance with someone so clearly unattractive as Mary had been.

Now, however, since she was married, none of that mattered.

The gentlemen who requested her dances were merely pleasant and chatty, simply wishing to get to know her better or, more often, looking for a partner who would have no romantic expectations from them.

Many of these events were attended by mostly the same people, often hosted by either Mr. Allen’s friends or by their relatives, so Mary’s social circle gradually widened, as she met and got to know gradually more and more people.

Mr. Worsley attended a great many of these functions. At each event, he made an effort to speak with her, though he certainly had other options for conversation partners. He also asked her for a dance at every single ball.

Mary gradually accustomed herself to his presence and his handsomeness, and she became gradually less awkward and less embarrassed in his presence.

She did, however, have to prevent herself from watching him too much.

It was a rather difficult task at times, for the man certain drew the eye, but Mary’s earnest desire to honor her husband gave her the moral fortitude to clamp down on her attraction to the man.

Gregory Worsley, Earl of Pendleton, age twenty-six, had stayed in London far longer than he had intended.

He had felt it necessary to circulate in society this winter, simply to keep up his connections, but as he was not in the market for a wife just yet, he had planned to return to Eastbourne in early March.

Instead, he found himself heading to his club on foot on a breezy, warm afternoon in early April.

The reason he had not returned to his responsibilities was simple. Mrs. Mary Allen, the very young wife of a man Gregory had admired and respected for over a decade.

She was fascinating, with her thoughtful brown eyes and her thoughtful approach to charity. In fact, thoughtful was the one word that seemed to guide all of her actions. She was thoughtful of other’s feelings, thoughtful in how she responded to questions, and thoughtful in how she spent her money.

She was also thoughtful in the sense that she was contemplative. Almost everything they had discussed was something she had considered before. When he did manage to bring up a subject about which she knew nothing, she was almost avaricious in her need for new information.

Gregory was used to the slightly spoiled sort of young lady that was brought up to be an ornament to society and a good hostess but little else.

Some of the ladies he knew were quite devoted to their charities, just as Mrs. Allen was, but no one he had ever met truly considered the long-term consequences of too much charity or charity applied in a poor manner quite like she did.

Mrs. Allen was unlike anyone he had ever met, and every time he told himself it was time to leave London, he convinced himself to stay just a few more days, just long enough to attend another event with her.

Now, however, his time in London was truly up.

He had received a letter from his steward informing him that there was a dispute between two of his tenants that required his mediation.

He would be leaving tomorrow. He had decided to spend his last day in London relaxing at his club, hopefully finding a few friends that he could bid farewell to.

His only regret was that he couldn’t have one last conversation with the intriguing Mrs. Allen.

When Gregory entered his club, one of the first people he saw was Mr. Allen. He was sitting in a comfortable chair reading the newspaper. Gregory sat down in the chair next to him and said, “Good afternoon, Mr. Allen.”

The older man lowered his paper. When he saw who was speaking to him, he folded it up and set it on the little table beside him. “Ah, Pendleton,” he said. “Or perhaps I should call you Worsley, since that is the way you were introduced to my wife.”

“You may call me either, of course,” he said, though the tension in Allen’s voice caused Gregory to brace himself.

“I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you, you know, but I could never seem to find you alone. Do you mind if we talk in one of the private parlors?”

Gregory immediately requested one of the private rooms. He was certain he would not wish the coming conversation to be overheard.

Once they were both seated at the table within, Allen said, “I’ve noticed you’ve been paying a great deal of attention to my wife.”

Since this was exactly what Gregory had been expecting, he had an answer ready. “She is an intelligent woman, very interesting to talk to, but I assure you I have absolutely no designs upon her.”

“Of course you don’t,” said Allen. “She would never allow it.”

“You have such great faith in her love for you, then?” asked Gregory.

Surprisingly, this made Allen laugh. It was a short bark of a laugh, but even that was incredibly rare for the serious man.

“She doesn’t love me. What sixteen-year-old lady would love an old man like me.

No, I have faith in her sense of duty, honor, and morality.

As you said, she is a remarkable woman, but you need to remember that she is mine, body and soul, and I know her very well. ”

“It never even crossed my mind to think otherwise,” said Gregory. “Truly, I am not attempting to engage her affection or pull her loyalty away from you. Not in the least. I simply find her to be an interesting conversationalist.”

“So, you enjoy talking to her,” said Allen. “Is that why to make it a point to dance with her at every opportunity? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that your hand lingers on her longer than necessary.”

This surprised Gregory, for he hadn’t even noticed such a thing. Now that he thought about it, however, it had always felt as if his hand was reluctant to let go of her waist or her hand any time they touched during a dance.

“I apologize if I have crossed a line,” he said. “It was most unconsciously done, and it will not happen again.”

“You’re right it will not happen again,” said Allen, “because you will not be dancing with her again this season. In fact, if I catch you talking to her for more time than it takes to be polite, I shall run you back to Eastbourne myself.”

“You’re being a bit possessive, are you not?” said Gregory. Such jealousy from the older man shocked him. Gregory could well remember the former Mrs. Allen, and she had been a frivolous sort of lady, freely chatting with and even flirting with anyone she chose.

Allen leaned back in his chair and just looked at Gregory for several long moments. Finally, he said, “Do you remember when you and every other man at the table asked why I had remarried when we gathered at the beginning of the season?”

“Of course,” said Gregory. “You declared that you just needed a new heir. It’s a tale as old as time.”

“Yes, that is what I said,” said Allen, “and that is what I believed when I married her. All I was looking for was a woman who could bear me a son and who wouldn’t waste my money.

Mary was perfect for my purposes, since she was young, healthy, and she had no pretensions to wealth.

Even now, though I would gladly give her more, she never asks for anything.

What I got when I married her, was far more than I even knew was possible.

“Mary is, in every way that matters, the perfect woman. The care she shows for others is always tempered with practicality. The effort she put into learning how to be a proper hostess was astounding. Everything I have asked of her she has done in ways that exceeded my expectations every time. And I do mean everything. ”

The way Allen emphasized the last word implied that he was speaking of the more intimate aspects of marriage as well as the practical ones. The idea suddenly made Gregory very uncomfortable.

“Given all that, I am certain you can see that I would wish to protect her,” he continued. “I would not wish for your attentions, whether intentional or not, to cause her any pain or distress. I would prefer it if you were simply out of her life.”

Gregory scoffed. “You claim you own her with one breath; then with the next you claim you are simply protecting her,” he said. “I think you are just jealous.”

He expected his outburst to raise the ire of old Allen, but the man simply raised one shoulder nonchalantly.

“Believe what you will. I know my Mary, and I know that if you continue to court her attention, even if you are not trying to engage her affection, you will eventually hurt her. You need to back off.”

Gregory took in a deep breath and let it back out.

He did not wish for his anger and resentment to color his speech.

“I will be leaving London tomorrow. I received a letter from my steward, and my presence is needed in Eastbourne to resolve a dispute. I was not planning to return to London until next winter.”

“Then I wish you a safe journey,” said Allen. He then got up from the table and went back into the main room to resume reading the paper.

Gregory sat in the parlor for quite some time, wondering what in the world had just happened.