Papa's Desires (Little Ladies of Talcott House, Book 2)

Miss Wickersham lifted her calendar from the desk where she had just locked up a pistol. She picked up a quill and spoke to Lord Grayson, “I am available Thursday next at ten o’clock in the morning, I shall schedule an appointment for you at that time. As you can see,” she gave a pointed glance to Lord Kensington in his wedding finery, “we here at Talcott House have urgent matters to resolve to which your presence is neither invited nor required.”

Miss Wickersham moved to escort both Lord Grayson and the lawman from the room, though without returning the pistol. Cynny held her breath. If anyone could escort two uncooperative men from the premises, it was Miss Wickersham. She did not put up with shenanigans, not from Cynny or Daisy and not from high born gentlemen. To her relief, Grayson actually took a step toward the door and Cynny slowly let out the breath she was holding. Maybe...just maybe…

And then he stopped in his tracks.

“No,” he said. “I am here for Miss Heathrow and I shall not leave without her.” His stern voice sent a shiver down Cynny’s spine, but surprisingly it was not fear. The warmth in her kitty spread and pulsed and Cynny’s breath caught in her throat.

“I beg your pardon?” Lord Kensington, who was there intending to wed Hyacinth himself, asked as he stepped forward. “Have you gone mad? I am to marry the girl within the hour and I would thank you to leave the premises as Miss Wickersham has requested. Are you in the habit of causing disruption everywhere you go?”

Rosie’s elbow jabbed Cynny in the ribs. “Lord Kensington is fighting for you,” she whispered. “Is it not romantic?”

Cynny looked up to see that Rosie had found a small crack in the floor and had her face mashed against it.

It was romantic. Why did it not give Cynny the same tingly feeling as when Lord Grayson spoke?

“I believe perhaps I have gone mad,” Lord Grayson said, raking his hand through his hair. “What other explanation is there for this type of behavior? Regardless, I can think of no other and I must have the girl.” He was certainly determined and that meant Cynny would be spending what was supposed to be her wedding night in jail.

“That is all well and good, my lord, but she is to be Lady Kensington. My bride, not yours. The arrangements have been made. Money has changed hands and the vicar is on his way here. I am sure Miss Wickersham has other young ladies who will be acceptable to you, but you shall not have my bride.”

Cynny held her breath and waited for the bottom to fall out of her world.

This is where Lord Grayson would make it clear that he intended to haul her off to prison, not the chapel. She wondered how quickly Lord Kensington would vacate the property once he learned the truth.

“What makes you think that you are the proper gentleman to marry her? Have you spoken with her? Have you ever even seen her? Have you heard the lilt of her laugh or gazed into her eyes, which are the shade of a morning sky in spring? Have you spent hours upon hours, imagining in great detail how you would be a good papa to her? She must be my bride, my little girl. I will have no other,” Lord Grayson challenged Lord Kensington and Rosie gasped.

“They are going to fight over you,” she said, looking up from the scene, a grin on her face.

“Let me see,” Daisy said, making room to look in the crack Rosie was peering through.

Cynny sat straight up, eyes blinking.

Marry her? Lord Grayson wanted to marry her?

Her eyes were like the morning sky? The weight upon her shoulders fell away and joy danced in her heart. She was not going to jail. She was going to be his bride. She wanted to jump up, run down the stairs and burst into the room, throwing herself in his arms.

He was the man she wanted. Lord Grayson. Not Lord Kensington.

Suddenly her whole world made sense.

However, Lord Kensington did not share her sentiments. His raised voice floated up through the floor and she resumed her position at the spy hole.

Lord Kensington looked only slightly chagrined then jutted his chin out in a prideful manner. “It is true that I have not yet met her, but that does not mean I am not suitable as a husband and papa for her. I at least do not storm into other people's homes and disrupt social engagements, which is more than I can say for the likes of you, my lord.” Lord Kensington took a step toward Lord Grayson and Cynny’s heart skipped a beat.

Miss Wickersham stepped between the two men holding her hands up to keep them from coming to blows. “Lord Grayson,” she said, “Hyacinth has been promised to Lord Kensington and, as he states, they are to be wed in just a few moments.”

At this point, the mysterious man who was not an officer of the law but apparently a friend of Lord Grayson’s, stepped in. “But until vows have been exchanged and the marriage license has been filed, the young lady is free to marry whomever she chooses, is she not?”

Lord Grayson picked up on the point which his friend made. “And how are we to know that marrying you is the young lady's choice at all?”

Cynny thought her heart might leap out of her chest and wondered if the occupants of the room below could hear it pounding. In just a few short moments she had gone from a life in prison to learning that the man she loved...yes, she was sure it was love...cared for her as well and had rushed all the way to Talcott House to stop her wedding to Lord Kensington.

But maybe it would not come to pass after all. Miss Wickersham was to choose her papa and her decision was final. How could Cynny ever be happy married to Lord Kensington when she knew that Lord Grayson had sought her hand?

Miss Wickersham rapped upon her desk with a ruler until the men in the room quieted and looked at her. “All of the young ladies under my care are well aware that I am the one who makes the choice of spouse for them. I have seen to their care and done my utmost to decipher their personalities and make the best matches possible. All of my young ladies have had happy marriages and I have no reason to think that the union of Lord Kensington and Miss Heathrow will be anything other than blissful as well.”

Cynny’s heart sank and sad tears pricked at her eyes.

Marriage to Lord Kensington would not be blissful. Not for her. Oh, he seemed a nice enough man and would no doubt make a good husband for someone, just not her. She was meant for Lord Grayson. But, she would be a horrible ingrate if she did not follow Miss Wickersham’s decision.

A memory of the discussion she had overheard between Miss Wickersham and Nurse Lister passed through her mind. If she refused Lord Kensington, what would happen to Talcott House? And her friends? Or Miss Wickersham and Nurse Lister? Even Garland needed a home and Hyacinth could not be the one to deprive them of one.

As though he had heard her thoughts, Lord Kensington chimed in, “In addition, my payment has been deposited and I refuse to accept a refund. Therefore the obligation is upon Miss Wickersham. If she fails to keep her agreement, I shall instruct my barrister to bring suit against her.”

Cynny’s eyebrows shot up—and caught on the rough wood of the peephole. She had never seen anyone challenge Miss Wickersham and come away unscathed. The headmistress still had the ruler in her hand and Cynny would not have been surprised to see her use it on Lord Kensington.

Miss Wickersham, who had previously been on Lord Kensington’s side, turned upon him, the ruler clutched ominously in her hand. “I beg your pardon, sir, but if you are under the impression that I am in the business of selling young ladies, then you are quite mistaken. While I appreciate your kind donation to Talcott House, it was a gift, not a purchase, and I will thank you to remember that.”

Lord Grayson stepped forward. “Whatever he has donated, I shall double it.”

“What? You do not even know the amount.” Lord Kensington stared at Lord Grayson.

“Nor do I care. I must have her for my own.” He reached into his pocket and threw a wad of bills as well as a bag on the desk in front of Miss Wickersham. The bag burst open and gold coins spilled across the surface. “Now,” he demanded, “bring Miss Heathrow here at once. And tell the vicar to hurry.”

In the darkness of the closet, Cynny, Rosie and Daisy gaped at each other.

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