Page 97 of A Symphony for the Earl

Lord Richard Does an About-Face

After she left, Richard walked into his adjoining study. He didn’t expect to return to sleep. There was far too much to consider, and foremost on his mind was how to persuade Gerald Rafferty to agree to a marriage with his daughter. He sank into a comfortable chair to think. A house servant would be in soon to start the fire, but John never disturbed him before eight o’clock.

He enjoyed rising early in spite of keeping late hours. Today there would be no time for a morning ride, nor a visit to Jackson’s Saloon for a bout of boxing, as was his custom. Instead, he would insist on seeing Rafferty.

Around six o’clock, a soft knock sounded on the door, and he opened it to a manservant who lit the fire silently and left the room. Pouring a shot of whiskey from last night’s crystal decanter, he settled into the overstuffed armchair, holding out his bare feet toward the fire. It was early for spirits, but Richard felt a bit like bucking custom. He just had the best sex of his life, and he wanted to savor the memory a bit longer.

In the past, he had insisted on waking alone, but not with Fiona; she belonged at his side in the morning, tousled and languorous from their lovemaking. There would be no separate beds in their marriage. It was paramount to form a strategy in time to get a message to Gerald Rafferty when the hour was decent. But permission or none, Fiona would be his wife.

Sometime later, as daylight crept in the window, he yawned, stretching. On the desk, a red wax stamp with his seal dried on the envelope addressed to Gerald Rafferty, Esq. It contained a brief missive.

Dear Mr. Rafferty:

Might I have the honor of addressing you in person this day at your earliest convenience? It is my sincerest hope that we may speak cordially despite our past differences. The matter is quite urgent and concerns one whom we both care for deeply and whose best interests are close to our hearts.

I look forward to your reply,

Richard Anthony Creighton Merrick, Earl of Seldon

After all the clever turns of phrases Richard tried to write, in the end, he simply requested a meeting as politely as possible. Convincing her father in person was best, and he hoped to God that would suffice.

He was exhausted, mentally and physically. The few hours of sleep last night barely registered, and it seemed he had just slipped back into bed when John entered with a tray of coffee and biscuits. Nevertheless, Richard sprang up immediately and gave him Rafferty’s letter, requesting that a footman deliver it without delay. When the valet returned with assurance it was on the way, Richard dressed with particular care, redoing his cravat twice and changing from a black coat to one of blue superfine, then back again.

Shortly after nine o’clock, he ventured to the breakfast room where Fiona sat, conversing with his sister. She paused in mid-sentence, a rosy color staining her cheeks.

“Good morning, my dear. Are you feeling rested?”

“I slept a bit unevenly, but I woke up feeling quite wonderful.”

He settled into his chair and unfolded the linen napkin before him. “I’m glad to hear it. Good morning, Valentina. You’re up early today.”

“Yes, I am.” Valentina buttered her toast, adding a dollop of strawberry jam as the footman filled Richard’s cup. “Mother is coming down, too. We’re anxious to hear the outcome of your talk with Mr. Rafferty.”

Lady Amelia entered the room, dressed in pale lilac.

“Good morning, my darlings. I hope there has been no disruption to our plans with the unexpected arrival of Mr. Rafferty. He did not seem pleased with you, Richard. Octavia begged to join us for breakfast this morning, but I asked her to eat in the schoolroom with Miss Ernest so that we might talk.”

Richard waved away the footman. “Thank you, but we will serve ourselves.” He rose and went to the cherrywood sideboard, taking a plate from the top of the stack. “Fiona’s father was unhappy with her situation. He seemed to think I coerced her into marriage and took advantage of her vulnerable state.”

Lady Amelia’s teacup paused in mid-air, and she placed it in the saucer with a click of porcelain. “I would have thought he knew his daughter better than that. Vulnerable is not a word I would use to describe Fiona.”

Richard helped himself to eggs and bacon and took two pieces of toast. “May I bring you something, Mother?”

“A pastry, please. The very idea of you having to coerce a girl into marriage…really! What could he have been thinking?”

“Mr. Rafferty was not far off the mark, I’m afraid.” He put a sweet roll on her plate. “I convinced her there was no choice but to accept my suit.” Fiona looked up from her toast and jam in surprise.

“What on earth are you saying, Richard?” Lady Amelia asked, frowning.

He sat and calmly took a bite of scrambled eggs. “Mrs. Drummond-Burrell and Lady Jersey discovered us in a compromising situation at the musicale. We were kissing in the conservatory.”

“Oh, dear, is that all?” his mother said with relief. “Although I’m surprised you chose such a public place to do it.”

He decided no further details were necessary. “I sent a note to Mr. Rafferty early this morning, asking permission to call on him. I’m confident I can convince him to agree to the marriage.”

A servant entered, handing him an envelope and a calling card, and waited for instructions. Richard quickly tore open the envelope. “This must be your father’s answer.” Relief washed through him as he scanned the enclosed note. “He says to call at noon. The card is from Denys.”

He turned to the servant. “You may show Mr. Spencer to my study, and I will give you a letter to return for the message.”