“Mr. Merton,” Radley called from the doorway.
Valentine ignored the impatient man in favor of stealing a few moments more with his intended bride. “I hope you have a pleasant day, Miss Radley. I’ll be counting the minutes until I see you again.”
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of her glove. “Everything will be better now,” he whispered. “I swear it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Merton.”
“That’s enough of that,” Radley warned as he stepped between them.
The light in Julia’s eyes dimmed a little. Undeterred, by Linus’s rudeness, he smiled warmly at her. “We are engaged to be married, Radley. There is nothing improper about kissing the back of her glove.”
A muscle in Radley’s jaw ticked. “I don’t care what you do after the wedding. Until then you will keep a respectable distance.”
Valentine kept his annoyance in check. Radley really had become a stuffed shirt about propriety in the last months. He wasn’t sure he liked this change in his character but he had no wish to argue today. “As you wish.”
Reluctantly he took his leave of Julia, but he’d have rather stayed behind and talked a while longer.
“Enjoy your day, sir,” Julia called softly as he reached the door.
He turned back with a smile that promised he’d see her again soon. Julia knew he would go through the motions of what a suitor was required to be in public. In private though, he would be himself with her. He hoped in the meantime Julia could curb her impulses and appease her brother. He hoped she never got caught sneaking out the window or back door to talk to him in the weeks ahead.
On the street, he paused on the footpath as a fine black carriage swept past him and then he crossed the street. He didn’t feel his marriage would influence the company in his favor but as every moment passed, he was even more certain it was the right thing to do. Especially when Julia smiled at him.
When the carriage that had just passed him stopped before his home, a chill swept over his body and he stopped. He turned slowly as a groom jumped down and put down the steps. When his father emerged on the footpath, his palms grew clammy with shock.
The old man never left Oxford without reason, and his expression was not encouraging.
“No. Not now,” Valentine groaned. “Not yet.”
He smoothed his waistcoat and moved toward his front door to offer a welcome, just as his sister Melanie emerged from the carriage. He hurried to her and extended his hand, so pleased to see her again. “Mellie.”
She didn’t smile, but cast her eyes toward their parent immediately.
Valentine turned his attention to their father immediately at her subtle suggestion. “Sir, what an unexpected surprise to see you in Brighton.”
The long, hard stare his father directed at him, rather than a greeting, didn’t bode well and Valentine fought the urge to fidget. When his butler opened the front door to welcome his guests, his father rudely pushed past into Valentine’s home and strode toward his study without uttering a word.
“Don’t keep him waiting,” Melanie warned in a trembling voice. “He is angry almost beyond reason. We have not stopped since we left Oxford.”
He caught her elbow when she seemed to sway. “You are exhausted.”
“Don’t worry about me. Worry about him and what he will do next.” She pushed him toward the house but despite her warning, Valentine escorted his sister to the doorway and into their butler’s safe keeping. Her usual maid scurried after, wearing a worried frown. He turned then and spoke to the large coachman, asking him to wait. The man scowled and Valentine dug into his pocket for coin.
“Thank you, sir.” The coachman grinned warmly then as he tucked the money into his mud-splattered waistcoat pocket and then steadied his team, apparently perfectly happy to wait now he’d been paid.
Valentine took a deep breath. To his left, Walter George had stepped onto his front doorstep to see who had arrived, and to his right the Radley’s were peeking at him around the doorframe. He couldn’t delay another moment to speak with them.
He swept into his home, tossing his hat aside carelessly, noting Melanie had curled into her favorite chair in the parlor and was rubbing her eyes. “Bring my sister tea and a warm blanket as soon as you can,” he said to Forbes.
“With pleasure, sir.” The older man smiled, turning toward Melanie eagerly. He left her to his butler’s fussing and approached his study door.
His father had planted himself at the window, hands behind his back, feet wide apart. The stance of a man intending on delivering a long lecture. Valentine closed the door behind him to ensure privacy.
“Did you think to fool your mother and me?” his father asked suddenly. “Did you believe we wouldn’t hear about your intentions?”
“No, sir.” He was aware that news of his behavior would reach Oxford, but at the moment he wasn’t sure precisely which bit of news the old man was referring to: the race with Julia or going into trade. Either one his father might complain about. He sent up silent thanks that he couldn’t possibly know about the marriage yet.
“You will pack your things and return to Oxford immediately,” his father ground out, still without turning. “Once there, you will apologize to your mother for the distress you’ve caused her. Caused all of us.”