Topic: A Matter of Principle

Constance Stanley

Date: 2017-05-26 21:59 EST
June 1887: London

The engagement was announced within days, printed in all the best papers. London, and the country beyond, were made aware of the Lord of Arden's forthcoming marriage to Miss Clare King, and though there was an undercurrent of scandal as society noted the proposed date for the wedding, there were no recriminations against either party. Indeed, the announcement opened further doors for the Kings as invitations began to flood in.

In keeping with tradition, Constance's husband, Edmund Stanley, grudgingly came to town to stay with his wife and brother-in-law, to give a show of support to the match, despite his distaste for being called away from his other pursuits. Raised voices in the Stanley's apartments became commonplace, as they always did when Edmund was an unwilling participant in a gathering, but Constance never made mention of it outside the bedroom door, not willing to involve her brother in her own troubles. Still, she formed the habit of not coming down to breakfast, leaving Lawrence to weather Edmund alone.

On the morning the engagement was printed in the Times, Edmund laid down his paper to eye his brother-in-law with a mocking expression. "Really, Grey' Clare King was the best you could do?"

If there was one person Lawry detested, it was his brother-in-law. The man was difficult at the best of times, and annoying the rest of the time. He was one of those people who always thought he knew what was best for everyone around him, even when it was none of his business. Lawry wished his sister had never married the man, but he'd had little say in the matter and at the time, Stanley had seemed a good prospect. "I don't see how that's any business of yours," Lawry replied as he stirred some sugar and cream into his tea, refusing to justify his decision. He knew the man would disagree with anything he said anyway, so there wasn't much point.

"On the contrary, it is entirely my business if you're bringing riff-raff into your family name," Edmund pointed out, somehow managing to look down his nose at Lawry as he did so. "Four generations ago, they were nothing, Grey. Money does not give them prestige or class. You are demeaning yourself with this marriage and dragging us all down with you."

Lawry stopped stirring his tea, a sure sign that he'd heard every last nasty word his brother-in-law had said regarding his marriage and more importantly, his intended bride. "I beg your pardon, Edmund, but might I remind you that you are staying in my home, and as such, I expect you to at least try to be civil. I realize it's difficult for you to see past your own inflated ego, but times are changing. There will come a time when titles will be meaningless, and those who have earned their fortunes by good, honest, hard work will be the ones who are the most respected members of society."

"Don't be a fool, Lawrence," Edmund scoffed, shaking his head. "We are born to privilege, we will always be a better class of person than those born lower. I speak to you now as man to man, to remind you of your grave error in seeking out this match at all. Any one of a number of titled ladies would have taken you. Pretty she might be, but she is base-born. And so will your children be."

"You are the one who's a fool, Edmund. A short-sighted fool, just like those who once thought the world was flat," Lawry pointed out, though he knew it was hopeless to bother arguing with the man. "I will also have you know that my fiancee has more class, despite her birth, than you will ever have. It takes more than just being born with a title to be a decent human being. That is something you would do well to learn."

"Damn it, man, you're a laughing stock!" Edmund exploded, slamming his hand onto the table in a rare public display of the temper Lawry had heard aimed at his sister behind closed doors. "You're making us a laughing stock. I'll not have it, do you hear?"

One eyebrow ticked visibly upwards as Edmund exploded across the table. "And just what do you think you're going to do about it?" Lawry asked, lowering his voice as he leaned forward, brows furrowing in annoyance. He wasn't going to let the man browbeat him, knowing Edmund cared more for his own reputation than anything else. Lawry knew he was more worried about how the marriage reflected on him than on anyone else, including his own wife.

The truth was that Edmund couldn't do anything about it. If he gave his own brother-in-law the cut direct, it would reflect terribly on himself. If he was uncivil to Lawry's fiancee, it would reflect badly on him. If he did anything but give the union his full public support, his reputation would be tarred by popular opinion. "You will come to regret this choice in marrying beneath you, Lawrence Grey," he warned, rising to his feet. "As I did." He marched from the room, barely even glancing at his own wife where she stood in the doorway, shocked to hear him say such a thing to her brother's face.

Lawry simmered where he sat, curling his hands into fists to keep from throwing his cup of tea against the wall, or worse yet, throwing his fist into Edmund's perfectly-chiseled jaw. He'd heard enough insults for one day, not so much those that insulted himself, but Clare and Connie. "If he regrets his marriage so much, perhaps you should divorce him," he said, upon seeing his sister. He wished she had not heard what had transpired between the two men, but it was better she heard it from her husband's lips than her brother's.

Connie's expression was pained as she moved to sit at the table with him, pouring herself a cup of tea. "You know the law as well as I do, Lawry," she said softly. "No judge in the land would grant me a divorce, unless Edmund were the one to file for it. And that, he will never do. His reputation will not allow it, even when he believes me barren."

Lawry arched a brow again, noting how she'd phrased that statement - when, not if - as if she was expecting him to think that or even hoping for it. "You should not have married him, dear heart," he said, looking sad for her. What was done was done; the best they could hope for now was that the man would lose interest in her and leave her for a mistress.

She offered her brother a sad smile, laying her hand over his. "I was a dutiful daughter," she said simply. She had not wanted to marry at all, but their father had included her in a wager he had lost with Edmund Stanley's father. She had not been given away with a dowry; she had been a prize at the gambling table. In all honesty, it was a wonder Lawry's first marriage had not been arranged early in the same manner. "And I am a good wife, for all that he has no children by me to show for it. If he wants an heir, let him legitimize one of his bastards, I care not."

Lawry frowned at the reminder of the circumstances surrounding his sister's marriage. He'd been lucky his first marriage hadn't been a similar disaster, but then Adelaide hadn't lived very long after they'd been married. "He'll be off again as soon as things are settled here," he reminded his sister. And that couldn't happen too soon for either of them.

"I am sure he will," Connie agreed in a quiet tone. "He will attend the wedding because he must, but I doubt he will be much in evidence apart from that day." Her smile warmed, then. "Speaking of the wedding ..." She took a sip of her tea, her expression already brighter. "Mrs. King informs me that she will be taking both her daughters to Paris at the close of the Season to acquire Clare's trousseau. I'm sure you wouldn't notice if she came to you wearing nothing but a sack, but these things are very delicate for ladies, you know."

Constance Stanley

Date: 2017-05-26 21:59 EST
"Are you going along?" he asked, plucking a slice of toast from the pile on the table and buttering it. Now that Edmund had left, he could eat his breakfast in peace without worrying about a case of indigestion.

"Of course not," she laughed, easily setting aside her troubles with the ease of too much practice to talk of happier things. "I have to get you ready for your wedding day, after all. And you really should choose a groomsman sooner rather than later, Lawry."

"I'm sorry to say it won't be Edmund," Lawry murmured, stating the obvious. Even if Edmund wanted to be part of the wedding, which he most likely didn't, Lawry wouldn't have him. He might have no choice in having the man for a brother-in-law, but he didn't have to let him be part of his wedding.

She snorted with laughter, biting her lip in an attempt not to laugh out loud. Her husband was still in the house, and hearing her laughing with her brother so soon after his dramatic exit from the breakfast room would only encourage him to be cruel in private. "Dear heart, if you asked Edmund to stand up with you, I would have to disown you."

"Do you think you would mind if I asked Ollie?" he asked her tentatively. Oliver Blackwood was one of their oldest and dearest friends, one they'd grown up with, one Lawry had always assumed would one day marry his sister; but that was before their father had forced her to marry Edmund Stanley.

Connie stilled for just a moment as he said that name, knowing instantly who he referred to. Had it been a freer age, Ollie might have been her childhood sweetheart; as it was, she was trapped in marriage before she had ever realized what she felt for him was true. "Why would I mind?" she asked her brother in return. "He's your closest friend, Lawry. It would be wrong of us to exclude him."

If Lawry could choose a brother, Oliver would have been it. Now, there was a man he would have been proud to have welcomed into the family. "You know how Edmund feels about him," Lawry pointed out. Edmund had made no secret about his hostility toward Oliver, but this was Lawry's decision to make, not Edmund's.

"Then take Ollie as your escort when you travel immediately following the wedding," Connie suggested. "At least as far as the station. He can go on his way, safely out of Edmund's sight, and you need not worry about them both spending the night in the same house."

"Good idea," he replied, not having thought that far ahead yet. "I suppose I had better start making plans." He'd left most of the planning of the wedding and honeymoon to the women, but there were still a few things he needed to take care of himself. Choosing a groomsman was just one of them.

"You had better, dear heart, or you will have to attend a wedding and a honeymoon in which you have only the shakiest idea of what is coming next," his sister teased him, carefully staying away from further talk of that old friend. "You are determined to take a week or two in the Lakes?"

He buttered another slice of toast before slathering on a generous amount of jam. "It was Clare's idea. I thought she might like to go to Paris or Rome, but she suggested the Lakes." And he was just as glad. Why spend their honeymoon in a crowded city when they could relax alone together in a cottage at the Lakes"

"You can certainly travel together further afield later on," Connie agreed. "No, I approve. And I know just the place to rent for you both." She flashed him a warm smile. "You know you will have to present her to the Queen next Season as the new Lady Arden, yes?"

"Yes, but I have not told her that yet," Lawry replied with a slightly worried frown. He wasn't sure whether Clare knew that already or not, but they were not so important that the Queen would make much of a fuss over them.

"You have almost a year to get around to it, unless Her Majesty summons you to the Christmas court," Connie mused thoughtfully. "If she does, I'm sure Edmund can be prevailed upon to accompany us. I'll need him there as an excuse to attend myself."

"I'm sure," Lawry muttered, the frown turning to a scowl. "Isn't there some way we can be rid of him?" he asked, lowering his voice to that of a whisper so no one would hear what he was saying but her. He wasn't talking about a plot to kill Edmund, but he wouldn't be too sad if some accident were to befall the man.

"Unless you can think of a way to expose him to cholera or typhus, I doubt it very much," she murmured back to him, shaking her head. "It is not so very terrible, Lawry. I see very little of him, and that suits me well."

"Isn't there some way you could convince him to divorce you?" he asked further. Now that he was engaged to Clare, money was no longer a problem. Even if Edmund cut her completely off financially, she'd always have a place with them, and he knew there was at least one other person who'd be overjoyed if such a thing were to occur.

"I am doing my best," she admitted reluctantly. "But ....I am loath to dare the rule of thumb with him, Lawry. He is very traditionally minded. I do believe he would rather beat me to death than divorce me."

Lawry's expression darkened, eyes flashing with anger. "If he ever dares raise a hand to you, he will answer to me," he warned, through clenched teeth. There wasn't much Lawry would like better than the chance to give Edmund Stanley the beating he deserved.

"No, Lawry." She shook her head again, touching his hand as she looked into her brother's eyes with absolute solemnity. "You will never raise a hand to him. Even if you were morally in the right, in the law's eyes, you would be guilty of murder. The law allows for a man to treat his wife as property. Edmund is tired of me. He does not come to my bed, and so long as I keep his household running to his liking, he does not find fault with me, either. It is not the life I want, but it is the life I have. Do not make me live it without you."

"Damn it, Connie! You deserve to be happy," he grumbled, slamming a fist against the table in anger. "I blame Father for this," he added, both of them knowing their late father was to blame for most of their woes. At least, he'd been lucky enough to find friendship in his first marriage and the prospect of love in the second. The same could not be said for his sister, and it didn't only make him feel angry, but guilty.

"I have you to be happy for me, Lawry," she told him gently. "I can be happy for you and with you, and I will dote on your children. But Father's sin was only to sell me. Edmund is a cold man, true, but I can cope with him. I will endure, Lawry. Just be happy in your own life, and do not worry so much for mine."

"How can I not when you are my sister?" he asked, his voice softening as his gaze met hers, unable to hide both the sadness and the worry from his eyes. "I will not allow him to insult you or my future bride in my own home," he added, though Edmund had already done as much.

Constance Stanley

Date: 2017-05-26 22:00 EST
"He has said his piece," she predicted thoughtfully. "I doubt he will say more than two words together to either of us from here on in, except in company. At least when there are other eyes and ears to see and hear him, he is pleasant enough. And he will not insult your Clare, Lawry. He has too fine an opinion of his own nose to dare you into breaking it for him."

"He's lucky I haven't broken it already," Lawry murmured. He had tried for years to keep the peace with his brother-in-law, but he had just about reached the end of his rope, especially after the words that had just taken place between them.

Connie sighed softly. She had tried so hard to keep her brother and her husband from coming to this point, but Edmund was a law unto himself and rarely listened to a word she said. He had agreed with her that Lawry needed a wife, but that was the sole extent of his agreement. He certainly didn't approve of the chosen bride, but she could only hope that now he had spoken, he would keep his views to himself. "Try not to let him trouble you, Lawry," she suggested. "You have far sweeter things to occupy your time and thoughts."

He might have asked if her troublesome husband would have preferred he marry someone as penniless as he was, but he thought it better if he kept that thought to himself. He wasn't marrying Clare for her money, though that was how they'd met. Despite that, he found himself frowning at the unfairness of it all. "It is only that I worry for you, dear heart. I do not like the thought of you married to that ....man," he said, using the word lightly, his voice dripping with obvious loathing.

"Perhaps one of his whores will give him dropsy," she shrugged mildly. "Then he can die innocently enough, and we can try very hard to be sad about it for his funeral." She rose to move to the buffet laid out, helping herself to bacon and eggs before returning to the table. "Will you be inviting Ollie to Arden for your last weeks of bachelorhood?" she asked, and the question might almost have been innocent, but for the understanding her brother had of her feelings where his friend was concerned.

Her remark about dropsy did very little to lighten her brother's mood, as Lawry thought it far more likely that Edmund might contract some far more serious illness from one of his whores than that - one Lawry didn't want passed along to his sister. "Will it be a problem if I do?" he answered her question with another question. Oh, yes, he knew very well of her feelings for his friend, as well as vice versa.

"Of course not," she assured him quickly. "I should ....I would like to know in advance, if that is your plan." She sagged a little where she sat. "You know how it is, Lawry. I can't let myself relax around him. It's bad enough that you want Edmund gone in such ways, but I can't let Ollie think it's a possibility."

"I will have to write and ask if he can arrange for a visit," Lawry admitted with a frown. Though neither wanted to mention it, they both knew that Edmund was a good part of the reason Ollie no longer lived in London.

"I am sure he will come for you, Lawry," she told her brother with warm confidence. "How could he possibly resist the chance to see you stand up and marry a girl you actually liked before you were engaged?"

"It depends more on whether or not he'll be out to sea," Lawry reasoned, giving up on his eggs and taking a sip of his tea. Ollie had used that excuse for years to explain away why he hadn't yet taken a wife, insisting his heart belonged to the sea, when both Lawry and Connie knew that was only half true.

"True," she conceded, "but it has been two years since you visited together, Lawry. Surely he has some time owed that he might use for this purpose, even if it were only a few days before the wedding. Truly, dear heart, it would be a shame not to have your closest friend stand up with you."

"I will write him and ask. I promise," he told her, knowing seeing Ollie again meant as much to her as it did to him - perhaps more. It was too bad their father had forced her to marry Edmund, or Ollie might have become his brother. He wasn't sure what else he dared say about their old friend, without chancing Edmund overhearing.

She seemed to understand the reticence, glancing toward the door briefly before changing the subject. "I did hear something about you putting that engagement gift of yours to good use," she said then. "I hope a small portion of it is going toward the manor, Lawry. The estate needs it, I know, but you really cannot bring a bride home to some of the rooms in that beautiful old house."

"What do you suggest?" he asked, relieved that she'd changed the subject. He'd been considering what to do with the money Clare's father had given him, but the first order of business, in Lawry's mind, was to pay off his father's debts. On the other hand, his sister had a point, and he wanted to make the house a warm and welcoming place for his new bride.

"Once the creditors and debtors are paid off, there will still be a handsome amount to use," she said thoughtfully, chewing as she considered the challenge. "A little incentive for your staff to stay on, perhaps - raise their wages, and pay new staff the old rate for the first year of their employment. As to the state of the house ....the roof leaks, the attics are a fright, and the last time it stormed, there was a full inch of water in the ladies' parlor. It needs a thorough going over, Lawry, but I would suggest making the family wing habitable once again before anything else."

"Yes, of course," he agreed, though that was not quite what he'd meant by his question. "But what I wanted to know is what you think Clare would like, as far as furnishings and the like are concerned," he explained. Not to mention the bedroom. Or perhaps he should ask Clare herself, though he didn't really want her to see the parts of the house that needed work.

Connie bit her lip, trying not to smile too widely at his clarification. "Keep it simple," she suggested. "Comfortable, but light. As mistress of the house, she will make changes in her own way and her own time. It would not do for her to enter there and feel that someone else's taste overrides her own."

"Yes, but ..." he exhaled a sigh. What did he know of furnishings and decorations" It was a woman's place to decide such things. He wanted Clare to be comfortable, at least until she was ready to make her own changes, but he wasn't too sure where to start.

"Oh, Lawry ..." Connie did laugh then, touching his hand with her fingertips. "Do you really think I would trust you to pick out furnishings alone" I've seen that monstrosity you call a bed, remember. You'd lose Clare the moment she lay down in it, and then where would you be?"

Lawry bristled a little, not so much insulted by her comment as confused. "What is wrong with my bed?" he asked, finding it comfortable enough, though the decorations might be a bit too boring for a lady.

His sister giggled at the look on his face, shaking her head in amusement. "I think the last time it had a new mattress was in 1476," she informed him teasingly. "I won't throw it out, Lawry. I'll just make it ....less ugly."

Constance Stanley

Date: 2017-05-26 22:00 EST
Of course, the bed wasn't nearly that old, but he supposed she had a point. He frowned again at the thought of bringing a new bride into a less than appealing home, especially where the bedroom was concerned. "I suppose I am useless where such things are concerned."

"You're a man, dear heart," she pointed out. "Your eyes are pointed beyond the home, but you'll appreciate what she does with it, I promise you."

"I do so want to please her," he confessed, that worried frown still creasing his brow. He knew it might sound silly to admit such a thing, but he trusted his sister with most of his sisters, as she trusted him.

"Lawry, I highly doubt she would be marrying you if you didn't please her," his sister reminded him with an arch smile. "But I do understand. And, for what it is worth, I believe you made the right choice. She has forward-thinking ideas, and a ready mind. I think you and she will make a formidable pair."

"Connie," he started, looking around to make sure no servants were eavesdropping and, most importantly, not Edmund. He turned back to meet her gaze and reach for her hand, as if needing a little reassurance. "I think I am in love with her," he confessed, his voice barely more than a whisper.

She leaned toward him, capturing his hand between both her own as her smile gentled, a little envious, but happy for him. "Then you will be a happy man indeed," she promised him fondly. "For I believe she is in love with you."

He couldn't help but smile a little at that, his heart singing to think Clare might share his feelings, but saddened that his sister could not find that same happiness for herself. He wished things could be different, and yet, he was thankful Fate had smiled on him at last. "You will always have a place in our home," he promised her, taking both her hands in his. "We will repair it and renovate it and make it ours," he said of their family home - hers as much as his.

"And fill it with children for me to corrupt behind your back," Connie added with a low laugh, leaning close to kiss his cheek. "Aren't you supposed to be attending Lady Fanworth's garden party with your fiancee today?"

Lawry blinked, not at the kiss but at the mention of a garden party he had completely forgotten about. "Is that today?" he asked. "I had better get ready," he said, as loath as he was to be doing something as boring as that. It was an excuse to spend the day with Clare, however, so there was that.

"Scandalize the upper classes and hold her bare hand," she teased him impishly, sipping the last of her tea. "And you're to dinner with the Kings this evening, too. Apparently the younger Miss King has finally arrived in town and is very eager to meet the man who will be her new brother."

"Let's hope I make a good first impression," he said. Though Clare's younger sister could do nothing to stop them for getting married if she decided she didn't like him, he was hoping to win her over, just as he'd won over her parents. It would make his life far easier if she approved than if she disapproved. Wait. Had she just mentioned something about children"

"I'm reliably informed that Louisa King is unformed as yet, but just as headstrong as her sister," Connie told him. "She's to go on a Grand Tour at the end of September, lasting until February, to finish her schooling abroad, as Clare did. It will be her first Season next year."

"Clare speaks fondly of her sister," he said, just as he did of his. "I am sure we will get on well with one another." At least, he hoped so. He didn't just want to make a good impression on Clare's family for her sake, but for his own, as well. He let go of her hand to move to his feet. "We should both be getting ready," he told her, glad she'd be going with him, if only for moral support.

"Oh, you think I can't appear in just my wrapper, then?" Connie chuckled, rising to her feet with him. "I do solemnly swear to be appropriately attired for Fanny Fanworth's awful 'do." She dropped him a teasing curtsy.

"Yes, please don't make me the laughing stock just yet, love," he teased back, eyes at last sparkling with their usual good humor. The cloud named Edmund that had been hovering over his head seemed to have finally dissipated.

She laughed once more, kissing his cheek. "Go and make yourself ravishing for your Miss King," she told him. "I want to watch all those little society belles go positively green with envy over what you have with her that they were too stuck up to even consider for themselves."

He chuckled finally at that remark. He didn't think he was such a fine catch, considering the state of his bank account, but there were other ways to prove one's worth, and it seemed Clare, at least, appreciated him. "What would I do without you?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her into a brotherly hug.

She leaned into his embrace, holding him close for a long moment. "Become very boring, I have no doubt," was her reply to his rhetorical question, followed by another kiss to his cheek. "Now off you go and be manly with your razor, or whatever it is you do behind closed doors. I have a corset to get reacquainted with."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied obediently, though he was the elder of the two. They both had good impressions to make, though he was sure she would have no problem with that. Clare had already grown quite fond of her, and he was sure they would become good friends in no time. No matter what Edmund Stanley might say.