"I really do appreciate all of the work you're doing for this ball of my sister's, Mrs. Woods. I know it was unexpected and it's an enormous undertaking but-"
"Nonsense, my Lord. It's my job," Mrs. Woods told him, patting him kindly on the arm. He had caught her in the dining room, arranging for the evening dinner, and sought to apologize for his sister's uncanny ability to foist massive revelries upon the household at the last minute. He knew from experience that Mrs. Woods tended to go relatively mad with stress when it came to hosting large events and he had wanted to check up on her sanity. She seemed perfectly pleasant to him but he imagined it was an entirely different scene down in the kitchens. The ball was in two days, after all, and the closer it got, the harder she would be on the staff. He hoped she would come to him if it got too unpleasant. Now, she left the dining room, heading back down to the kitchens to finish concocting dinner.
"I do wish you would stop chatting with the help so much," someone spoke from the doorway. He turned to see his sister and sighed. "Politeness is one thing but we aren't supposed to be friends with them, you know. It's indecorous."
Lady Cora poured herself lazily into one of the comfortable dining chairs. She took a grape from the bowl of fresh fruit in the center and popped it into her mouth, watching him as if daring him to argue with her disagreeable valuation of the worth of his staff. He grasped the back of the nearest chair and leaned into it.
"Our cousin is coming," she informed him then and added, in mock heraldry. "Duchess Adelaide Griffith of Corinth."
He smiled. This, at least, was good news. He had always been fond of his cousin. She was far less materialistic than his sister and always looking for a bit of excitement. She was a regular guest in Northbrook. She spent most of her summers here as a child and, since she married a prestigious Duke who conducted most of his business through travel, she found herself left alone in Corinth most of the year so, whenever the Duke was to be gone for an extended period of time, she usually brought herself to Northbrook to visit her family rather than remain alone in her own colossal estate. Her marriage had been a good match. She had climbed the social ladder a bit. He had gotten a well-travelled, beloved socialite to further his political status in Corinth. The match had not been made in love but some of that feeling had developed between them since. Now, she spoke fondly of her husband and even admitted to missing him from time to time. That most certainly was not always the case.
"Duke Griffith is visiting the capital on some errand," Lady Cora continued, observing her brother diligently, clearly trying to decipher whether or not he knew anything about the Duke's business in the capital. That was just like Cora, always endeavoring to acquire information from anyone she could, even her own family, so that she could use it as the latest bit of gossip for her ladies at another date. "Adelaide says it's likely he will be away for some weeks."
"Well, as she's well aware, our cousin is welcome to visit Northbrook whenever she desires," he said, watching her mouth twitch in irritation at his lack of disclosure. In truth, he had nothing to disclose. Sterling had never been all that close with the Duke but, as both he and Adelaide were without siblings themselves, the man seemed to have had every intention of indoctrinating Sterling as his honorary brother from the start of their matrimony. Sterling had no doubt that, had the Duke and Duchess lived much closer, he would have found himself much more often afflicted with the man's company. Not that it was an affliction. The Duke was kind enough and Sterling could appreciate the magnificent husband he was to his cousin but the man was overwhelmingly dull as the only events of interest in his life seemed to revolve around the trade of coffee beans and the mutterings of court.
"I've heard from many ladies who are eager to attend your ball," Cora said then, changing the subject entirely. It was one of her favorite things to do, that. She would abruptly change the subject of the conversation in an effort to catch you off guard and illicit a more authentic response from you. She thought it a convenient tool, Sterling found it insufferable.
"Your ball," he reminded her sourly. He heard the doors swing open behind him and turned to see Lucy and Elsie entering with trays of soup, a common first course in this estate ever since Sterling had made the mistake of complimenting Mrs. Wood's broccoli soup. The woman seemed to think that any fare that the Huntingtons praised must be served habitually and must never make the slightest deviation from the original recipe. Sterling's poor brother had made the unfortunate statement when he was very young that his favorite thing in the world was Mrs. Wood's apple pie. Years later, the poor fellow still finds himself presented with the desert every time he sets foot on the estate. And now there was Sterling's soup. Dinner was beginning then. He pulled out the chair he had been leaning on and sat. As the soup was placed in front of him, he smiled up at Elsie and nodded in thanks. She bowed back and departed the dining room. Lucy stayed behind in case they would need anything.
"Yes, well, for the clear purpose of finding you a mate, all the same."
"Was that written on the invitation?"
"Not explicitly. But the guest list is pretty clearly heavily female. Young, unmarried, suitable female, that is."
He cleared his throat.
"Lucy, bring some pepper for this bisque, would you?" Lady Cora crooned and Lucy bowed and rushed off to find the peppercorn. Cora continued. "We need to surround you with women who aren't in burlap sacks."
"There are plenty of women in finery milling about this estate on a daily basis. What, with your inviting your group of hens and Miss Fontaine hiding behind every corner."
Cora laughed at that. "She is still pursuing you?"
"Aggressively, I'm afraid. I've nearly run out of places to hide."
Cora laughed again.
"She's pretty, you know. Her father is wealthy enough and sick. She's looking to secure the inheritance. But his lands are so far away. You'd never be able to manage them as well as Northbrook."
Sterling stared at his sister. She took a bite of her soup as if the conversation were nothing but idle chit chat. The way she spoke of marriage was as if it were nothing but a business proposal and she was simply sifting through the options to identify the best investment. Was that truly how she felt about the issue or had she simply been raised to believe that marriage was a contract and nothing more? For her, he imagined, it would be. She was the second child and a female. She had no inheritance, no property of her own and, once Sterling was married, she would lose her title of Lady as well. The only way for Cora to secure a future for herself would be to marry the best possible option when it came along or to live out her days in Sterling's estate, allowing him to provide for her. And though they both knew he would do just that, her pride would never allow it.
"Do you intend to be so blasé about your own marriage when it comes about?" He asked. She looked up at him then and quirked a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
"Blasé? If you ask me, I'm being just the opposite. Imposingly stringent. You only get married once. At least, if you do it correctly. You must be sure you're making the best choice. And all of these things are to be considered."
"And what of love?"
"Love comes after. Adelaide married the Duke at the behest of her ambitious mother and that worked out well enough. They're happy."
"It doesn't work for everyone. Adelaide and the Duke are both intelligent, interested in politics, worldly, and adventurous. They're around the same age, have the same general plans for their futures. They have similar interests, things to discuss. Miss Fontaine is sweet enough and I won't argue that she's pleasant looking but there's nothing between her ears but air. She can't hold a conversation. She's never read a single classic. She-"
"You and your books," Cora rolled her eyes. "It's no fault of Miss Fontaine's, nor is it of any ladies', that we are not trained to enjoy fiction. We are taught to make ourselves pretty and useful. Literature is a hobby and a wife has no time for a hobby outside of her husband."
"Adelaide paints. She rides horses. She goes to the symphony. All of which she does while her husband is away. She has her own hobbies. She has an individual personality. I can't marry a woman who becomes so engrossed in me that she loses herself."
"Strong willed," Cora said. "Stubborn. Independent. Is that what you want?"
He didn't answer.
"That's exactly the kind of thing a lady is taught not to be."
"Not in those words," Sterling answered her, exasperated. "I just want to have a conversation with a woman in which she is not simply regurgitating something I've said to her before or something she thinks I want her to say to me."
"You want someone argumentative."
"My dear, you are all the argumentative I need in my life."
She smiled. "It's what you're used to. But don't you ever dare call me argumentative in the presence of an available man."
He laughed at that.
They finished eating together, her telling him of all the ladies coming to the ball that Saturday, him listening as best he could and nodding from time to time to show the interest that he did not feel. He said nothing more about his objections. He knew it wouldn't matter. Cora, whether she knew it or not, had built up a certain level of expectation for the evening ahead. He knew that she would have hundreds of questions for him following the fateful event and he hoped he could find at least one woman in the crowd to tell her he was interested in.
He wasn't sure of the precise reason he was dreading the occasion so much. His future wife could be travelling to Northbrook now, getting a room at the inn in town or packing her finest dress to meet him in. He could be meeting the love of his life in only two days. He should be thrilled at the prospect. But instead he only felt a lump in his throat and sweaty palms at the thought. Meeting one potential mate was stressful enough but meeting dozens in a single night? Not to mention having to replay the event minute by minute for the unbearably detail oriented Cora. Something about the idea made him feel nauseous.
In the end, he could only remind her that he had no intention of rushing the decision of his on who he would marry and that she had to respect his wishes. And he left it at that, excusing himself from their dinner when he could no longer take the continuous overview of noble lady after noble lady, and heading off down the hall in search of something stronger than the wine he had been served at dinner. And he knew exactly where to find it.
There was a small holdfast on the opposite side of the grounds as the stable. It was a stone tower. The top was used as a watch tower and was manned at all times. The midsection held various rooms for many of the estate's guards and many of Lord Huntington's men. The bottom served as a tavern. There was a stocked bar with casks of ale and a few long benches sat up so that his men could enjoy some strong ale and friendly conversation at the end of a long day.
He knew he would be welcome. He always had been and that proved to remain unchanged tonight. As he threw open the door and strode inside, Douglas raised his mug in salute and Henry shouted out a greeting. He smiled and approached their table. They sat together with a few other men he recognized. The head of his stables, Merritt, a man in his fifties who had worked in the stables Sterling's whole life, nodding a stoic greeting as he sat. Oliver, a boy his brother's age who worked with the blacksmith, slapped him on the back as he sat between him and Douglas. Ivor, the blacksmith himself, smiled broadly, showing his two silver teeth.
"What drove you away from your warm castle this night, lad?" Ivor asked, his deep voice booming in the room around them. Lord Huntington smiled and took the mug of ale Douglas offered him. Ivor had always called him lad, as he was old enough to remember his time served in service to his father as well. Sterling took no offense to it. On the contrary, he was pleased that these men felt comfortable enough to address him as one of them even if that meant he was to endure the teasing and the ribbing that the rest of them withstood.
"My sister," he answered, taking a sip, and the men around him laughed heartily.
"Yes, that Lady Cora," Henry said. "Beautiful and brilliant but she's got plenty to say, doesn't she?"
"I'm afraid the upcoming gathering has had her more talkative than ever."
A chorus of groans sounded around him and Douglas slapped him on the back in pity. He smiled at the comraderie.
"That's a woman for you," Merritt grunted. "Just wait until you're married, my Lord. You've seen nothing yet."
The men laughed.
"If rumors are to be trusted, you'll find out about that soon enough," Merritt added.
"Rumors?" Sterling asked. Douglas met his eye and shook his head.
"That's what this ball is for isn't it? Wooing the eligible young Lord."
Sterling sighed. "I'm afraid so."
It was quiet for a moment. The men had been joking before but now they had realized that this might not have been the jest they all thought it was. Maybe they were getting a glimpse of the pressure he was under. Sterling had known these men his whole life. He had grown up with Douglas. His brother had grown up with Oliver. Henry, Merritt, and Ivor had all been like uncles to him. These men cared about him. They followed him not only because it was their station but because they cared for him.
"My boy said you caught him playing with one of the servants the other day," Henry said suddenly and Sterling looked up to find the old man smiling. "He's worried you're unhappy with him."
"Of course not," Sterling said with a chuckle. "I simply didn't expect to find him on the back of a kitchen maid."
"On the back of a maid?" Ivor asked incredulously. "For what reason?"
"Playing horse," Sterling said and laughed at the faces of the men around him. All but Douglas and Henry seemed surprised. Henry chuckled and Douglas only shook his head and took a swig of his ale.
"My boy's getting impatient about riding," Henry said with a sigh.
"Bring him along on our next hunt. We'll find him a smaller mount and he'll stay close to the party. Douglas will ensure we don't go too far into the woods," Sterling proposed with a smile. "I learned to ride when I was only five and Theo was even younger, I believe. He should be more than capable at seven. Especially, since he's been practicing."
The men let out another hearty laugh at that and Sterling smiled along as the conversation shifted to an interrogation of Oliver who the men had apparently witnessed speaking to a young woman on the grounds on more than one occasion. She was the Millers daughter, apparently. Sterling tried his best to remember what she looked like but his memory came up empty and the only description he got from the men was of her large breasts which, unfortunately, did not help him recall much at all.
By the end of the night, he was in much better spirits and was being walked back to the castle by a much less drunk Douglas whom he leaned on a bit more than he was comfortable admitting. His old friend helped him to his chambers and into his bed before smiling down at him.
"I'm afraid you're quite a mess, Lord Huntington," Douglas said in his best impression of Sterling's proprietary sister. "I do believe you'll look like utter shit in the morning."
Sterling laughed and, just before he nodded off, was able to respond. "Should bring me down to equal with the lot of you."