Marchioness Divine | A Regency Romance

Chapter Eleven: Entertain Us

"Why do you not go to her?" asked Angeline.

Edward shook his head. "She has not been a widow for a full year. Besides, Mama does not like her." The excuses were poor but what else could he say?

His sister scoffed. "I had the idea of inviting Mama to stay with me while I am expecting this winter."

Edward grinned. "She would love that. As would your husband."

"And you may enjoy being alone with your thoughts and find a way to stop being such a ninny."

"We have resorted to name-calling now, have we?"

Angeline gave a sardonic smile. "It is clear she is not pregnant with a new Marquess so nobody is going to object to a hasty marriage. Especially if it keeps her in London. Many people seem to rather like her."

"She objects to a hasty marriage," Edward snapped, louder than he intended. "Or any marriage," he added with a firm nod.

Angeline's face immediately fell when she realised her brother had already been rejected. "But...I always thought she was rather fond of you."

Edward clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to fall to his need and beg his sister to tell him every little hint she had picked up that Amelia might have feelings for him. He knew the truth. He already relived every moment with her in his mind – he did not need another perspective giving him false hope.

"We were both mistaken," he finally said, focusing on his teacup rather than his sister's tragically sympathetic eyes. "I am not good enough for her."

"You cannot continue to judge whether you are good enough." Angeline sat up straight. "Papa is not here to tell you how good you are, so I will try in his stead."

It seemed the looming threat of motherhood had inspired Angeline to try to be a somewhat supportive older sister again. She only attempted this once every few months and each time she was less helpful than the time before. "Do not try to comfort me," Edward begged.

"Papa was a great man," said Angeline, ignoring him completely. "But he was also a good one. He followed his heart. He made it his mission to look after people. That was his greatest accomplishment, and it is yours. You are certainly not good all the time." She gave him a pointed look and he hid his face behind his teacup as he took another sip. "But you could be. I have seen flashes of good in you, with the way you treat your friends or fight for your causes. You, unlike many men, are capable of remorse. This is what your ambition ought to be. Goodness, not greatness."

"So how do I accomplish that?"

Angeline offered a small, sincere smile. "You may start by thinking about what you truly want for once."

Did he truly want a cabinet position? He wanted to be a good earl, to be good to the people his father had looked after and cherished. He had a loyal community around him, and it was his duty to protect it. Being a Parliamentarian could certainly help.

Yes, he did want a cabinet position, one day. But he did not want it from being a successful politician – he wanted it for being a good one. He should not have to marry the right person or have the right friends or make the right arguments – he had to work hard, as his father had, and he would be rewarded just like him.

But he did want to marry the right person. A tiny ball of hope lived in his chest, letting him pray that one day she would give him another chance. He had tried to prove that he could be a great husband, but now he had to prove that he could be a good one.

Without a doubt he found his sister more distressing – she was right.

*

If she was to be a Marchioness, Amelia might as well be a bloody Marchioness. She had worn her Charity clothes all morning when helping her mother repair the stove, but after lunch Amelia donned a black silk dress and exquisite lace bonnet to make her way to the cemetery.