Never Fall for Your Fiancee

“I don’t doubt it. So far, his version of things leaves a lot to be desired—although I am glad you had the good sense to make the scoundrel wait and court you properly. Everything comes to Hugh too easily.” Something Minerva couldn’t argue with. “Do you know, he neglected to mention you had siblings? Not once did I hear about Diana or Vee, yet I knew the quartet at the local assembly in Chipping Norton played so ill during your first waltz the pair of you struggled to dance through your laughter.” A charming image that made Minerva smile. “And whilst that is a perfectly lovely anecdote which I enjoyed, I should have thought the details of a pair of sisters might have featured in at least one of his extensive paragraphs. Especially as the three of you are obviously so close and Hugh has always been such an enthusiastic and entertaining letter writer with an eye for minute details.”

“Their omission was very careless of him.” What else could she say? Thank goodness he hadn’t described her sisters, else they would all have three complicated stories to learn.

“Careless? That is one way to describe it. ‘Thoughtless’ is better. I was dumbstruck when I encountered them in the hallway. I didn’t even know their names. It was embarrassing.” The older woman slowed her pace to thoroughly scrutinize Minerva. “Although, now I have seen you, I understand why you consume him so. He often raved about your beauty. No pertinent details, of course, despite his love of them. I imagined you to be one of those blond and ethereal sorts the ton favors. So fragile and delicate you’d evaporate in high wind. I could not, for the life of me, conceive of how you survived your illness. Yet now I see you…”

“It all makes perfect sense? As you can plainly see, I am not the least bit fragile—although I wouldn’t mind being a little more delicate. Even Hugh struggles to lift me.” Minerva had felt the large muscles in his shoulders bunch as he had heaved her onto that horse. “He hides it politely, though.” She had seen the strain on his face as he had hastily stepped away.

“Men in love see little fault in the women they have given their hearts to, whereas women are always much more pragmatic, don’t you think? We see the faults clearly, but learn to live with them. Not all women, of course. Some ladies, I am sorry to say, have little more than fluff between their ears. I am heartily relieved to discover you are not one of them. I should have loathed a silly daughter-in-law, and I suspect, had he picked such a woman to spend eternity with, Hugh would have come to loathe her, too. He has always been a deep thinker—not that he chooses to show that particular side of his character often—and those who think deep thoughts need an intelligent spouse to discuss things with. If he ever deigns to drop the charming rogue façade long enough for a deep discussion, of course. He does like to appear irritatingly superficial most of the time.”

“Why is that, do you suppose?” Because of all the things that intrigued her about Hugh, it was this which interested her the most. He was happy for people to think him shallow, lazy, and selfish yet became coy to the point of guarded, which contradicted the image he was at pains to portray.

“Hard to say … He’s always had a mischievous side and has always had the ability to see the humor in everything. Yet as a boy, he was also incredibly academic, with a tremendous thirst for knowledge. That studiousness drove him to learn as much from his father and his tutors as he could. There is no denying my son is exceptionally clever, although nowadays only those closest to him would ever realize it. He never used to hide his intelligence.”

“Then why does he?”

“I first noticed the change in him after his father died. He worshiped his father. His death really hit him hard. It was so tragic, you see, and so pointless. Thirty-seven is no age for a man to be struck down and the decline was unbelievably quick. Cruelly quick. One day he was striding around the estate much as Hugh is now—the next he was wasting away.” Olivia’s expression was sad.

“He had a cancer.” Her gloved hand brushed her throat below one ear. “Just a tiny lump in his neck. So tiny we all thought it insignificant. Then it grew. The physician tried to cut it away, but it had already spread and there was nothing to be done. It seems staggering to think such a small thing in such a robust man could wreak such extensive damage so fast. None of us expected it, but for Hugh it was a dreadful blow. At just seventeen, he had to watch the man he believed invincible die in front of him over a matter of months. He emerged from his grief a very different young man to the boy he was.”

“Seventeen is such a difficult age at the best of times.”

“It is indeed, as I am sure you well know.” Olivia slid her a loaded sidelong glance. “Your sister seems to particularly struggle with it.” Another reminder this tiny woman was a formidable one who was cannier than Minerva could have imagined. “I couldn’t help but notice she chafes a little against your mother. Or notice that it is you who tries to mediate.”

“My sister is shy and awkward in her skin. More so since she has needed to wear spectacles this past year. Whereas my mother does not possess an introverted bone in her body.” She hoped her smile didn’t appear as brittle as it felt. If Lucretia’s constant attempts at motherly nagging continued unabated, Minerva feared for the worst. Vee would only tolerate so much when her emotions were so very close to the surface, although she was trying to behave. Which was more than could be said for the actress, who at best was trying and at worst drove all three of the Merriwells quite mad. “They are as different as chalk and cheese. I am afraid the pair of them do not understand one another at all.”