‘No, I was not.’ Darian sighed deeply, choosing to ignore the scathing comment in regard to himself; no doubt Mariah would have more, far stronger insults to hurl at him before this conversation was over. ‘I was merely mistaken as to which of the Beecham ladies held Anthony’s affections and consequently, the reason for his polite and public attentions to you.’
He also had absolutely no idea how Mariah was going to react upon learning that Anthony was paying court to her young daughter, Christina, rather than to herself. Even if he only took into consideration Mariah’s feelings towards him, Anthony’s despicable and insulting older brother, then Darian was sure that it could not be in a favourable way.
Any more than were his own feelings on the matter. Admittedly, he could not help but feel a certain amount of relief at having learnt that Anthony was not besotted with Mariah Beecham, after all. For the reasons he had previously stated.
But also on a personal level.
Unwanted as his own desire for Mariah might be, Darian nevertheless felt a certain relief at knowing he was not harbouring a desire for the same woman for whom he had believed his brother had serious intentions.
As for the real object of his brother’s affections...
Admittedly the seventeen-year-old Lady Christina Beecham was more acceptable as a wife for Anthony than her mother could ever have been. But, in Darian’s opinion, only marginally so. Christina Beecham could not escape the fact that she was the daughter of a woman with a notorious and scandalous reputation.
A woman with a notorious and scandalous reputation who, he realised belatedly, for the moment seemed to have been struck uncharacteristically dumb. At having learnt that his brother, Anthony’s, romantic inclinations were directed towards her young daughter rather than herself?
Mariah drew a harsh breath into her starved lungs as she realised she had forgotten to do so these past few seconds. ‘Forgive me, but I— Am I to understand that your brother, Lord Anthony Hunter, a gentleman aged almost five and twenty, believes himself to be in love with—that he has serious intentions towards my seventeen-year-old daughter?’
Wolfingham gave a terse nod of his head. ‘That is exactly what I am saying, yes. I have no reason to believe that your daughter returns Anthony’s feelings.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘But perhaps you do?’
‘Not as such, no.’
‘You seem unduly concerned?’
‘She is seventeen years of age, Wolfingham. At the very least Christina will have been flattered by the attentions of an eligible and sophisticated gentleman such as your brother,’ Mariah answered distractedly as she now recalled all those occasions these past few weeks when Lord Anthony Hunter had been included in the group of admirers surrounding herself and Christina.
As she also remembered the polite attentions the young Lord Anthony had paid to her and the visits he had made to Carlisle House—and that Wolfingham had mistaken for a romantic interest in Mariah—in an effort, no doubt, to ingratiate himself into Mariah’s good opinion.
And Christina’s youthful heart?
The more Mariah considered the matter, the more she believed that her daughter could not help but be aware of Anthony Hunter’s romantic interest in her.
Having spent much of Christina’s early years closeted alone together in the country, Mariah believed she and Christina were closer than most mothers and daughters of the ton. But Christina was fully grown now—or believed that she was!—and Mariah now realised that those childhood confidences had become fewer and fewer during these past few weeks spent together in London.
Perhaps because Christina harboured a secret passion for her handsome admirer?
A secret passion that, because of her age, she knew Mariah could not, and would not, approve of?
Oh, she had been unable to deny Christina her first Season; her daughter was seventeen, after all. But Mariah had not launched Christina into society with any intentions of seeing her young daughter engaged to be married within weeks of her having made that appearance.
As she herself had been.
Mariah gave a determined shake of her head. ‘Whether she does or does not, it will not do, Wolfingham.’
He arched dark brows. ‘You would refuse Anthony’s suit?’
‘Her uncle, the earl, is her male guardian, but I will strongly advise against it, yes.’
‘Why would you?’ Having been so set against the match himself, Darian now felt contrarily defensive on his brother’s behalf. Anthony might be young, and occasionally irresponsible, but none could doubt his eligibility in the marriage mart. ‘Lady Christina is seventeen years of age—’
‘And so far too young to fall in love, or consider taking on the duties of marriage!’ Mariah scorned.
‘Surely she is the same age as you must have been when you married?’
‘We were not discussing me!’ Those turquoise-coloured eyes now glittered fiercely across the room at him.
Wolfingham’s gaze became quizzical at her vehemence. ‘I thought an advantageous marriage was the whole purpose of a young lady making her debut in society?’
‘That is a typically male assessment of the situation.’
He arched a dark brow. ‘Then perhaps it is that you consider that having a daughter married to be ageing to yourself?’
‘Do not be any more ridiculous than you have already been, Wolfingham!’ Mariah stood up agitatedly. ‘My reservations have absolutely nothing to do with myself and everything to do with Christina. She is far too young to know her own mind in such matters.’
‘She seemed a prepossessing young lady when I danced with her the other evening.’
‘So she is.’ Mariah nodded her impatience. ‘And no doubt I will one day, in the distant future, be happy to dance at her wedding. But not now, when Christina has only been out for a matter of weeks, rather than years. Nor do I have any reason to believe that you would approve of an alliance between your brother and my daughter?’ She looked up at him challengingly.
No, of course Darian did not approve of it and he had voiced his reservations regarding the match to his brother when the two of them had spoken so frankly together two evenings ago. A disapproval that Darian knew had once again fallen on deaf ears; Anthony was bound and determined in his pursuit of Christina Beecham.
A determination that was obviously to now be thwarted by that young lady’s mother.
Again, Darian found himself playing devil’s advocate. ‘I still fail to see, apart from your daughter’s youth, what your own objections can be to the match. Anthony will come into his own fortune on the occasion of his twenty-fifth birthday in just a few months’ time. He is the grandson, the son and now the brother of a duke—’
‘I am fully aware of who Lord Anthony is and of his family connections,’ Mariah assured him dismissively.
‘And the fact that the severe and sober Duke of Wolfingham is his brother is no doubt part of the reason for your own objections to the match?’ Darian surmised drily.
‘Do not even pretend to be insulted, Wolfingham, when you know full well your feelings on this matter entirely match my own.’ Mariah sighed her impatience.
‘I repeat, why are they?’
Mariah drew in a deep and controlling breath, knowing she was overreacting to this situation, allowing her own unhappy marriage at the age of seventeen, the same age as her daughter was now, to colour her judgement. And in front of the astute and intelligent Darian Hunter, of all people. ‘Of course