Mary glanced around, her gaze sharp and shrewd, then lowered her voice to say, “We just dropped by to see how you were faring—clearly you have everything in hand.” Mary’s gaze slid approvingly to Frederick, currently chatting with old Lady Faubert. “This was well done. Appearing here will stand you and Frederick in good stead.”
“I’ve realized he was right,” Stacie murmured back. “If I want to pursue my dream of establishing myself as a hostess of select musical evenings and advance the careers of our local musicians, then making the most of the opportunities arising from our engagement is the only sensible course.”
“Exactly!” Mary gave one of her approving nods.
“My father has always maintained,” Sylvia said, “that having a goal is only a beginning, and that one’s efforts to overcome hurdles and cling to that goal and not turn aside from it are what, ultimately, make the goal worthwhile.” She paused, then added, “He usually ends that homily by saying that nothing worthwhile in life is ever easy, and while the saying might be trite, I suspect it’s also true.”
Stacie inclined her head.
Mary touched her arm. “You’ve clearly found your feet, so we’ll leave you to it and return to our box. I must say hello to Frederick’s mother before we leave.”
Stacie smiled and let them go, then with a calm serenity that had previously escaped her, turned to the lady Frederick brought to meet her.
Frederick sensed Stacie’s increasing steadiness as she answered Lady Conway’s questions about the music school. With his eyes, he tracked Mary and Sylvia as they made their way through the still-considerable crowd to speak with his mother and Emily.
Mary had patted his arm as she’d passed him, and Sylvia had given him an obviously encouraging nod. Combined with their assessing behavior earlier in the day, he could only conclude that, not only did they know of his true intentions regarding Stacie, but they approved and, like their husbands, were willing to actively support his campaign.
That was excellent news. Heartening news. Of all Stacie’s many connections, Mary’s opinion was unquestionably the one that would carry most weight—not only with Stacie but also with everyone else. Yet from all he’d seen, Stacie was close to Felicia and Sylvia as well; their opinions would matter to her, too.
Well and good; it appeared he had their backing.
He returned his attention to Stacie; seeing her still engrossed with Lady Conway, he allowed himself to drink in the vision she presented—and marvel that, in the space of a day, he’d not only made up his mind whom he would marry but had succeeded in gaining the support of her family in wooing her to his side.
The next morning, after a lengthy internal debate, Frederick called at Mount Street at precisely eleven o’clock. After sending in his card, he was conducted to a family parlour at the rear of the mansion, where he found Mary, Felicia, and Sylvia reclining in relaxed fashion in comfortable armchairs.
Mary studied him as he walked in. “Good morning, Albury.”
Frederick managed not to wince. He inclined his head to her. “Frederick, please.”
Mary smiled. “As I understand your ambition is to become one of this family, then first names are probably appropriate at this juncture.”
She waited while he exchanged nods with Felicia and Sylvia.
When he looked back at Mary, she arched her brows. “I assume this isn’t a social call.” She waved him to an armchair opposite hers. “How can we help?”
Frederick seized the moment of sitting to review the wisdom of what he was about to do, but it still seemed the obvious way forward. He settled, looked first at Mary, then at Felicia and Sylvia. “I’ll take it as read that you are all aware that I wish to convert Stacie’s and my sham engagement into the real thing. However, as I believe you are also aware, Stacie harbors a very strong antipathy toward the married state.”
All three ladies were nodding.
He went on, “I have yet to learn what it is that comp
els her to reject the notion of marriage, especially with such adamantine resolve, but from all her brothers have told me and all I’ve otherwise learned, it seems certain her reasoning derives—in some way, manner, or form—from the years she spent under her mother’s wing, her years of being exposed to her mother’s notions of marriage and wifely behavior.”
Mary stared at him, then nodded. “I would have to agree. I can’t think of anything else that might have engendered such a strong and lasting aversion to marriage. One really needs to look no further than Lavinia’s influence.”
He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Sadly, understanding that tells me nothing of the specific root cause, leaving me unable to directly counter it.”
Mary grimaced. “I take your point.” She looked at Felicia and Sylvia. “I’ve never had the slightest inkling as to why Stacie feels as she does, only that she is, indeed, set against marriage. Do either of you have any insights?”
Both Felicia and Sylvia shook their heads. “Although I do agree,” Felicia said, “that her aversion to marrying runs deep.” She looked at Sylvia. “Her reaction when she unintentionally caught your bouquet made that abundantly plain.”
Sylvia nodded, eyes wide. “Indeed.”
When the three said nothing more, but simply looked at him expectantly, Frederick went on, “So that’s where we all stand in the matter of getting Stacie to marry—me or anyone else. Given I can see no reasonable way of learning what the foundation of her aversion is—I have asked directly, and she maintains her reasons are too complicated to explain—the only way forward I can see is to set the matter of her aversion to matrimony to one side and, rather than attacking it directly, hope to find a way around it—namely, by demonstrating in the most effective way possible the benefits of becoming the Marchioness of Albury.”
Mary blinked, then sat back in her chair, her gaze growing distant as she thought, then she refocused on him and nodded. “That’s a potentially viable approach, especially now that she’s committed to this vision of hers of creating musical evenings and has settled on you as an essential part of her plans.”
“Yes,” Frederick said, “but we need to be subtle. The last thing I would wish is to have her think that marrying me is a condition to succeeding in her aims.”