Page 12 of Once Upon a Gilded Christmas (To All The Earls I’ve Loved Before #4)

To Edward’s annoyance, Lord Vernon, the Earl of Shipbrook, waylaid him as he returned to the salon. “Lord Edward, I have something of which I wish to speak with you.” His carefully cultivated plummy vowels could not hide the rhotic roundness of his light Irish accent.

Before he could agree or not, Lord Vernon pulled him aside. Edward threw a longing glance in Honora’s direction, but she was not looking his way. No hope of rescue there.

Edward sighed. “How may I help you?”

“We all know why we’re here. At Lady Hammond’s, I mean.”

Edward nodded.

“To be fair, my daughter’s only sin is to be born of Irish parents. And maybe her red hair, but that canna be helped. She’s a fair colleen and we’ve done our best to see her well-educated. Sent her to the best finishing schools.”

Edward knew when he was being sold to. “And now you’re seeking to match her up with one of my sons?”

Lord Vernon wrung his hands. “Not so much seeking. My Frances has taken a fancy to your younger son Lord Jacob. I don’t know why.” He tilted his head in a way that allowed him to give Edward a direct look. “Like I said, we all know why we’re really here.”

Edward didn’t like what Lord Vernon was implying. “Get to your point.”

“Before her mother and I decide if we are going to encourage or discourage her wee little puppy crush, I wanted to hear directly from you regarding the suitability of your son.”

The suitability of his— Edward drew a sharp breath. “Why would you ask—" He waved his hands. “I can’t believe we are having this discussion!”

Instead of taking offence, Lord Vernon simply nodded his head. “You have told me enough, to be sure. I’ll dissuade my daughter from making an unsuitable match. I thank you for your time.”

The insult sank even deeper in Edward’s heart. Did Lord Vernon just insinuate his son as unmatchable? As Lord Vernon moved away, Edward reached out and grabbed his arm. “I don’t think I like your tone.”

Lord Vernon looked to Edward’s hand, then to Edward’s face.

“When I inquired about your son, why did you not immediately sing his praises? You said nothing regarding his character, his honour, his suitability. If you do not think him worthy of my daughter, who am I to question your judgement?” He did not pull away but looked pointedly to Edward’s hand, still gripping his arm.

Edward released him. “I… my apologies. But you are very direct, sir.”

Lord Vernon did not flinch.

“Me daughter is a kind-hearted soul. She needs a husband who will value that. I dinna want some barmy wastrel more interested in his own pleasure than in the duties of husband and father. Dinna think I have not had previous suitors seeking the hand of my daughter and her ample dowry that we turned down. While many would look to make as high a social match as they can, I am more interested in the character of the man. A title is for life. But who is the man from day to day? I’ll give my daughter to an untitled gentleman over a duke any day if he is the fellow who’ll make her happy.

” He straightened the lapels of his coat.

“Again, I put to you, Lord Edward. what manner of man is your younger son?”

Edward had to think upon this. Who was Jacob?

Had he ever looked objectively at his boys? He knew them as his sons. But how did the world view them?

"I value him as much as I value his elder brother.

" What else to tell Lord Vernon? "He's a young man given over to his thoughts.

He's a note taker, keeps track of the things he learns.

Alas, I can't say he's a great observer of the world.

Sometimes you've got to point out the forest for the trees.

But he's not a stupid lad, not really. He's not a cruel lad either.

Never was one much for taunting other children.

" What else could he say about his youngest boy?

"Stuck to his studies. Knows his books. Speaks Latin and Greek better than I ever could, though I don't know what you'd want with the Classics, unless one wishes to go on to university. "

"Does he?" Lord Vernon asked.

"Not really." At least, Jacob's never said anything in that direction.

Edward wasn't too fussed if he didn't. Sure, it was expected of younger sons, unless they purchased themselves a military commission or some such.

Edward's own schooling hadn't been terribly impressive.

"Not that it matters. I've bestowed a small property on him for his own personal fortune.

He seems to do all right in managing that.

Might entrust him with a few more later. "

Lord Vernon took all this in. "And you brought him here, to Lady Hammond's."

"How could I not?" Edward's heart swelled. "I love him as much as his brother, or any of his sisters. While I can't lay any money on his success in the romantic arts, I certainly wouldn't queer his chances simply because of birth order. He's entitled to love as much as the next fellow."

Lord Vernon didn't comment on Edward's declaration. Sure, it might be an unpopular opinion, to favour a younger son thus, but that was what it was. "I thank you for your candid reflection."

As the festivities wound down for the night, Edward pulled his son aside. "I have something of interest you want to hear."

No matter how much Jacob pried, Edward refused to spill until they reached the privacy of their bedroom.

"The Earl of Shipbrook approached me, wanting to sound you out for his daughter Lady Frances."

Jacob, whose hand had been reaching for the little notebook in his pocket, slowly withdrew it. "Lady Frances, you say? The tall one," he measured the height far greater than his own, "the one with..." he gestured to his chest to indicate large bosoms.

"That's the one. Apparently, she seems to like you."

"Huh." A small frown of thought creased Jacob's brow.

Edward pressed, "Do you like her?"

Jacob had to think about this. "I hadn't given it much thought."

"Why not?"

Jacob had no answer.

"Do you not like her?"

Jacob tilted his head. "Can't say I have feelings either way."

Feelings either way...? What was wrong with the boy? Even Edward knew Lady Frances carried her fair share of magic, as did the other young ladies. Either his son was impervious to any and all magic, or he was as thick as two short planks. "When she speaks with you, have you no reaction to her?"

Again, Jacob had to think about this. "She appears to be pleasant company. Haven't been able to figure out what's wrong with her."

"Wrong?"

Jacob gave his father a pointed look. "Everyone here is flawed, you said so yourself. I've been trying to figure out what they are."

Easy enough. "I know what Lady Frances' flaw is."

Jacob perked up. "You do?"

"Yes. She's Irish."

Silence fell between them while Jacob waited for the rest. When his father said nothing more, he prompted, "...and?"

"And that's it. She's Irish, nothing more. She's lovely, she's got a sufficient dowry, she's well-mannered, amiable, educated, all the qualities suitable for a young lady. Her only flaw is that she was born to Irish parents. No other flaws."

Jacob's hand slipped into his pocket, but he didn't withdraw his book. "How do you know this?"

"I spoke with her father."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "Every father loves their child. Of course he'd say that."

Edward turned the tables on his son. "Have you been keeping track of everyone's flaws?"

Out came the notebook. Jacob flipped it open and recited: "Lady Lucy talks too much. Lady Anne talks too little. Lady Marian is a limp dishrag while Lady Juliana is most disagreeable."

"And then there's Lady Frances. What do your notes say about her?"

Meekly, Jacob raised his notebook to his face. "Haven't found her flaw yet."

Edward tilted the notebook his way. "Irish," he said, pointing to the page. "Note down 'Irish', and move along."

Jacob dropped his notebook. "I don't get you, father. First you say we should marry for love. Now you want us to settle for... for..."

"I'm saying stop being so picky."

Jacob pondered on this. “Are you saying you don’t care who we marry?”

Edward inhaled. “I’m saying I’m not going to sacrifice your happiness in the name of a politically-expedient marriage.

I care very much about who you marry. But I want you to have a strong choice in the matter.

Not only do I want you to find someone who will make you happy, but who you will make happy.

Someone who will be happy in this life. I want you to find someone who you want to spend time with.

If you’re sitting together by the fire of an evening, I want you to have pleasant things to talk about.

I want you to care how her day has gone.

I want you to be a true companion to her.

I want your heart to lift every time you see her. ”

He rubbed hand over his chin. “Are you capable of bringing a wife happiness?”

Jacob had no answer for that.

"Are you not listed in that notebook of yours?"

Jacob shook his head.

"If you were, what would you have put next to your name?"

"Second son," Jacob admitted.

"Anything else?"

His son gave him no answer.

"You have flaws too," probably. "Yet Lady Frances sees you as someone worthy of attention."

Jacob had to ponder on this.

Edward continued. "If I were you, I'd be flattered. Someone thinks you're worth considering, even if you're not the heir. Just because you’re my younger son doesn’t mean I’m going to treat you any less.

While the law all but cuts you out of the life that it thinks your brother deserves, I will not be so cruel.

If any of these delightful young women here tickle your fancy, I will support you in your choice.

Jacob weighed those words. “What if their fathers disagree?”

“From what you’ve told me, I don’t think anyone at this party would disagree to any legitimate offer of marriage from the son of an earl, regardless of where in the succession he falls.”

Edward gestured to the notebook. "Do you have a list of their good points in that book of yours?"

Jacob shook his head.

"There's another of your flaws. You're looking for an excuse to reject someone. How about you start looking for reasons to accept someone?

"Start with yourself. Ignore the fact you're a second son. Pretend you're the eldest. Other than a title coming your way, what else do you have to offer a potential wife?"

Jacob couldn't meet his father's gaze. He turned away.

How Edward ached to put an arm about his son, but he was too old for that now.

“It is up to you to determine that. By your actions, you can show you are an excellent catch for any young lady and she will not care you might never be an earl. You are a nobleman’s son.

I took great pains to raise you the same as your brother.

My father did not give me the same benefit, yet here I am. Am I any less noble?”

Jacob looked to his father with some ashamedness. “No. You never treated either of us different.”

He couldn’t help it. Edward hugged Jacob. At first his son stiffened, then gave in to the fatherly embrace.

“Thank you,” Jacob said after a moment, “for not treating me any different.”

“You deserve happiness as much as your brother, as much as I do.”

He released his son before the physical connection became too uncomfortable.

Jacob shifted the subject. “Who is the Dowager Countess Harwich to you? I sense you’ve known each other a long time, yet we’ve never met her before this week.”

She was the reason Jacob had not been neglected by his parent. “Had your grandfather approached marriage the way I hope I approach yours, she is the beautiful young debutante I would have married in my youth.”

Jacob perked up. “What happened?” Jacob slipped the notebook out of his pocket.

“Her father cared more about aligning his family to the Harwich line. She was a mere pawn in a much larger game.” No.

That wasn’t all the story. “Even if she was free, my own father would have refused to entertain any idea of my offering for her.” The late Earl of Lavistock had given absolutely no thought to Edward’s marriage potential, so focused was he on Edward's brother Orwell. It wasn’t until his late wife's family, closely related to the Duke of Shomberg, made noises in their direction that he found use for his second son.

Really, the Shombergs wanted Caroline to marry Orwell, but the Earl had already contracted him to another family.

Instead, the Shombergs were willing to take Edward.

Lucky for them when Orwell died without a son, then.

Jacob laid a hand on his father’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Edward pushed away the past. “Interesting how some people’s good luck comes as the expense of others’ fortune.” He looked to his son. “Find happiness where you can. Not everyone gets a second chance.”

Edward rose. It was getting late.

Jacob remained seated. “Like you?”

Like him. “Only caveat I give you is to give Lady Juliana a wide berth, for I fully intend to offer for her mother.”

Jacob pressed his lips together in a secret smile.

"Please," Edward begged. "Don't waste the opportunity I've given you. Unlike me, you may never get that second chance."