LITMIR.BIZ

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to speak ill of him to his father. As for the viscount, he will inherit whether they reconcile or not. I would expect he has little desire to approach a man who left him and his mother destitute. Certainly, Telbridge has done nothing in the years since to prompt his son—if the viscount is his son—to seek a reconciliation.’

      ‘Perhaps,’ Maggie said with a sigh. ‘But it is still sad.’

      ‘Family squabbles are as old as time. Read your Bible,’ the dowager advised.

      ‘That doesn’t make them less regrettable.’

      ‘Indeed. However, if you do intend to…pursue an acquaintance with Giles Hadley, I would do so cautiously.’

      ‘Why do you say that? Surely you don’t think he’s “dangerous”, as John Proctor warned! Even if he should subscribe to Godwin’s theories on abolishing marriage, I cannot see him forcibly seducing a woman.’ She laughed ruefully. ‘He wouldn’t need to.’

      ‘I’ve heard nothing of that—rather the opposite, actually. His amours have been few, and the ladies involved were treated with great courtesy. No, it’s just that I’d not like to see a lovers’ triangle descend to the second generation.’

      ‘Lovers’ triangle?’ Her puzzlement gave way to irritation as she made the connection. ‘That Morning Post article again! Surely you don’t give any credence to newspaper gossip. I have no interest in wedding George Hadley, no matter how much he sidles up to Papa!’

      ‘Though the writers do expend an inordinate amount of ink speculating about their betters, there is always some thread of truth in the reports. Perhaps George Hadley thinks he’s “sidled up” to your father successfully enough that he’s in a fair way to winning your hand. It would be an excellent match for him.’

      ‘Well, it wouldn’t be an excellent one for me,’ Maggie retorted with some heat. ‘I don’t like the man, and I’m not so committed to the Tories that I would marry someone for their political advantage. Nor would Papa try to persuade me, no matter how much George Hadley tries to turn him up sweet.’

      ‘Yes, but that’s not the problem,’ the countess continued patiently. ‘Don’t you see? There is no love lost between the brothers. Isn’t it possible that, having read the newspaper reports as the rest of us have, Giles Hadley might seek you out, just to put a spoke in the wheel of his half-brother’s plans? Now, I’m not saying Hadley turned up in Armsburn’s borough with that in mind. Most likely he was in Chellingham for political reasons of his own, met you by chance, and admires you sincerely—why ever should he not? Given the history between the two, though, I would be cautious.’

      For a moment, the thought that Giles Hadley might have approached her with the intent of beguiling her so he could crow to his brother about his conquest made her feel sick. That scenario was too reminiscent of the debacle with Sir Francis.

      But an instant later, a deep conviction rose up to refute that scenario. Regardless of his reasons for coming to Chellingham, the attraction between them had been genuine—she was sure of that. Whether or not he would pursue the connection because of his brother’s interest in her, or in spite of it, she didn’t know, but the spark lit between them had not been the product of her imagination.

      What she chose to do about it, now that she knew his full background, was still up to her. She was no more interested in becoming the bone of contention snapped over by two pugnacious half-brothers than she was in becoming George Hadley’s prize pullet.

      And she definitely didn’t intend to risk falling in love.

      ‘I will be cautious,’ she promised the dowager as she finished her tea and set the cup back on the tray. ‘That’s why I came to talk to you, Aunt Lilly. You always give such excellent advice.’

      ‘Advice is about all one has to give at my age,’ her great-aunt said tartly. ‘I’ll let you go with one last bit: don’t let anyone worry you into marrying again, unless you truly wish it. I had several offers after Creighton died, but none could hold a candle to him, and I wouldn’t settle for a lesser man.’

      ‘That’s how I feel about my Robbie,’ Maggie said, her eyes sheening.

      ‘Not that I didn’t amuse myself from time to time,’ her great-aunt added.

      ‘Aunt Lilly!’ Margaret laughed. ‘You’ll make me blush.’

      ‘As if I could, with all you must overhear, spending so much time around gentlemen! But I worry about you, child. You were inconsolable after losing your husband, and then when it seemed you’d found happiness again, the affair with Sir Francis ended so badly. I would so like to see you passionate about life again.’

      ‘I enjoy my work with Papa.’

      ‘I’d have you not just “enjoy” life, but be truly thrilled by it—illumined from within! You know what I mean—I can see it in your eyes. If Giles Hadley offers you the possibility of tasting such joy again, don’t let the dull voice of prudence prevent you from furthering the acquaintance. After all, you cannot find what you won’t risk looking for. Just keep in mind the possible complications.

      ‘And I intend to end this homily with a recommendation about marriage, and you may as well not protest,’ her great-aunt continued, holding up a hand to forestall any objection. ‘Much as I would oppose you being pushed into marriage, neither would I like you to miss out on the blessing of children. A thought to consider, while you’re still young enough to have them.’

      Maggie worked hard not to flinch. That was a fact of which she was too bitterly aware.

      Masking her discomfort from her perceptive great-aunt by rising, she said, ‘I must get back. I’ve not been home yet, and Papa has a large party coming for dinner tomorrow night for which I haven’t even begun to prepare. He’ll want a complete account of the Chellingham elections, too. Thank you for tea—and your counsel, Aunt Lilly.’

      ‘You are always welcome to both.’

      As Maggie bent to kiss the dowager’s cheek, her great-aunt reached out to pat hers. ‘I pray for your happiness, child.’

      Maggie felt the burn of tears and blinked them away. ‘Thank you, Aunt Lilly. If something exciting should happen, you’ll be the first to know.’

      Her great-aunt chuckled. ‘With my contacts, I certainly will—whether you tell me yourself or not!’

      During the drive from her great-aunt’s town house back to her father’s in Cavendish Square, Maggie replayed their interview over and over. After hearing Giles Hadley’s story, she was more fascinated by the man than ever. How had he reconciled the rural isolation of his early years with rejoining the world of the ton when his aunt had come to rescue him? Did he remember anything of the days he’d lived at his father’s grand estate in Hampshire?

      Despite his education and upbringing, if he knew nothing of that estate or its people, how could he become a good landlord to his tenants and a proper steward of the land entrusted to him, once he inherited? Or would he remain in London, furthering his career in Parliament, content to let some estate agent or secretary manage his acres and tend its people? What a tragedy for them that would be!

      She would love to ask him about his plans, but their acquaintance was nowhere close enough for her to broach such personal matters.

      Then there was the problem of the possible rivalry between him and his brother over George’s supposed pretensions to her hand. Though she was certain there was a genuine attraction between herself and Giles Hadley, she’d already proven rather miserable at discerning whether a man’s attentions stemmed from her charms, or the charms of her lineage, wealth and connections. Would Mr Hadley indulge her curiosity and encourage her interest because he found her as intriguing as she found him? Or if she followed through on her desires, might she be leading herself into another painful disappointment?

      Yet,

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