‘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.’