Julia Justiss - A Most Unconventional Match

Elizabeth’s momentary humour faded. Apparently Sir Gregory did not much like Mr Waterman. Regardless of the reasons for his disapprobation, Elizabeth was becoming rather annoyed by his subtle disparagement of a man who was not only highly esteemed by her sister’s family, but whom she herself found to be sympathetic, helpful—and quite attractive.

‘How disappointing for Mrs Waterman,’ she said, an edge to her voice. She’d never met Mr Waterman’s mother, but she could not think very highly of a lady, incomparable or not, who would publicly disparage her son. ‘Though I find her difficulty somewhat surprising. I myself had no trouble whatsoever in understanding Mr Waterman.’

‘Truly?’ Sir Gregory blinked, clearly taken aback. ‘Well. You always were rather observant for a female. But,’ he gestured to the mantel clock, ‘my time remaining is short, so let us proceed to a more pleasant matter! I understand there was a sad accident a few days ago. As distressed as the lad already is at losing his papa, I thought he might appreciate this.’

Sir Gregory picked up a wrapped parcel from behind the sofa and handed it to Elizabeth. ‘Go ahead, open it. If it meets your approval, you can give it to the boy.’

Inside the wrapped package, Elizabeth found a new toy soldier, all gleaming paint and shiny brass. ‘How considerate of you, Sir Gregory!’ Elizabeth exclaimed. The gesture was even more impressive when one considered that the baronet was not a man used to dealing with children.

Though she still could not approve his unkind words about Mr Waterman, Sir Gregory could have chosen no better way to redeem himself in her eyes than by this kindness to her child. ‘How can I thank you?’

‘I take it you do approve, then? To bring you pleasure, ma’am, is all the thanks I desire.’

The fervour of his gaze made her a little uncomfortable. ‘How did you know about David’s broken soldier?’ she asked, looking down at the soldier.

‘Oh, I have my little sources,’ Sir Gregory said with a chuckle. ‘I sent my valet out to find a replacement. I’m pleased he chose something suitable.’

Though she shouldn’t have expected a busy man like Sir Gregory to take the time to visit a toy seller personally, her enthusiasm dimmed a trifle. ‘Yes, he did very well.’

‘Shall we summon the boy and let him have his treat?’

‘If you can spare the time, then, yes, I would be happy to.’ At Sir Gregory’s nod, Elizabeth rang the bell pull to summon Sands and have him fetch David from the schoolroom.

While they waited, Elizabeth prompted Sir Gregory to talk about his visit to his estate. A few minutes later, Sands ushered in her son.

Though his widened eyes showed his surprise at finding his mother had a visitor, David made Sir Gregory a proper bow. ‘Good day, sir,’ he said politely. ‘Sands said you wished me to see me, Mama?’

Elizabeth’s heart swelled with motherly pride at David’s impeccable behaviour before a man she knew he disliked. Indeed, it filled her with gladness just to look at him, so grave and correct as he addressed them both.

Dropping a brief kiss on the top of his head, Elizabeth said, ‘Yes, my dear. Sir Gregory has been kind enough to bring you something, and I thought you ought to have the opportunity to thank him personally.’ She handed him the toy soldier.

Solemnly David regarded the toy. With a smile Elizabeth could tell was forced, he bowed again to the baronet. ‘Thank you, Sir Gregory.’

‘You’re quite welcome, my good man,’ Sir Gregory said in the over-hearty manner of adults who aren’t accustomed to conversing with children. ‘Capital little soldier, eh? No need to fix the old one now. Toss him in the dustbin!’

‘Oh, no, sir!’ David’s eyes opened wide with alarm. ‘I could never do that. Papa gave him to me. And he’s a general, not just a soldier. General Blücher.’

‘Ah, I see. Sentimental value. But one soldier’s as good as another, eh? Except on a battlefield, perhaps.’ Sir Gregory chuckled at his own joke.

David did not look amused. ‘They are not alike,’ he replied, frowning. ‘General Blücher was the head of all the Prussian soldiers. Napoleon might have won Waterloo, Papa said, if General Blücher hadn’t come with his men. This soldier—’ he held up the baronet’s gift ‘—is a Royal Irish Dragoon guardsman. They didn’t fight at Waterloo.’

‘Perhaps,’ Sir Gregory said, clearly beginning to lose patience. ‘But it’s only play, son. Would you rather have a working soldier or a broken general?’

David set his chin. ‘I want Papa’s general. Besides, Mr Waterman is going to fix him. I don’t need yours!’

Tears in his eyes, the boy tossed the soldier to the floor and ran out of the room.

Aghast, Elizabeth watched the door slam behind him. In many ways, David seemed so mature for his age, sometimes it was hard to remember he wasn’t yet seven. Still a baby, really, and aching for the father he missed so keenly.

Embarrassed none the less, Elizabeth turned back to the scowling baronet, who was staring at the rejected toy. With a nervous smile, she went over and picked it up.

‘I’m dreadfully sorry. I know when he’s calmer, David will prize the gift. You must excuse him, he’s still so overwrought—’

‘Poor behaviour shouldn’t be excused, Lizbet, regardless of the circumstances,’ Sir Gregory said blightingly. ‘You do the child no favour by indulging him just because he had the misfortune to lose his papa. Society will judge him on his comportment—which, I am sorry to report, in this instance was sadly lacking. But now I must go. Do be on your guard about Mr Waterman. I shall call and check on you later. Madam.’ After giving her a stiff bow, Sir Gregory walked out.

Elizabeth exhaled a trembling breath. She understood only too well how the mere thought of discarding a prized toy his father had given him, an object that represented many hours the two had spent together, Everitt spinning stories about Waterloo, David hanging on every word as they manoeuvred his soldiers in mock battle, would upset her son. It must seem to the boy almost like suggesting he toss away the memory of his father. Small wonder he’d taken Sir Gregory’s well-meant gift so badly.

But it was a gift and it had been well meant. Sir Gregory was correct. Some time later she would have to reprimand David and bring him to realise that his behaviour had been unacceptable. Worse still, she was going to have to induce him to apologise.

How she’d bring that about, with David already so ill disposed towards Sir Gregory, she’d worry about later. With a sigh at having the day that had started out so promising turn suddenly sour, Elizabeth set off to soothe her son and coax him down for nuncheon.

Two mornings later, trying to quell the nervousness in his gut, Hal rang the bell at Mrs Lowery’s Green Street town house. Truly, he’d rather face down a dozen Mr Smiths in some low dive in Seven Dials than meet one Elizabeth Lowery in her drawing room.

The butler who answered the door informed Hal that his mistress was presently working in her studio and ushered him to a salon to wait while he informed Mrs Lowery of his arrival. Hal’s request that Master David be summoned from the schoolroom to see him in the interim was unusual enough to surprise a momentary raise of eyebrows from the butler before Sands bowed himself out.

A little shamefaced, Hal paced the parlour. David having mentioned that his mama always worked in her studio in the morning, he’d deliberately timed his visit for this hour. He’d wanted a respite after he arrived in the house to settle his nerves and a chance to visit the boy before he subjected himself once again to Elizabeth Lowery’s unsettling presence.