My Lord Duke

I take this opportunity to continue your previous correspondence regarding my daughter. I shall inform you on her behalf that she has graciously accepted your proposal of marriage. I also give my blessing.

We will be departing Marsden House on the 12th of September. We thank Your Grace for the gracious offer to stay within the walls of Carelton Hall until the marriage proceedings have commenced.

Respectfully, Mr Fitzwilliam Bostwick

Short and rather uncivil was the response of Mr Bostwick. Or so thought The Duke. His appeal for a wife; however, could be considered in the same light he supposed. It wasn't the most conventional proposal. With closer re-examination of the letter with his offer of marriage, he realised that it could be perceived as cold, unfeeling and self-conceited. Nevertheless, he would be married, and very soon by the sounds of it.

The Duke had invited the Bostwick's to stay at Carelton Hall as a means of meeting the young woman he had offered marriage to. When she arrived, they would have ample time to acquire a proper licence and be married in his parish. A week was hardly enough time for them to get to know each other before they were joined in marriage.

The Duke had assured himself that he would be relieved at the thought that he had finally procured a mate, but despite his self-assurance, he felt rather disquieted and... nervous? That couldn't be right, he rarely felt his nerves anymore.

Self-confidence, sometimes to the point of recklessness, was an attribute he had learned at a young age. He supposed that was quite possibly the reason that he had gotten himself so quickly into this situation. He hadn't even met this woman and yet they were to enter into the holy bonds of matrimony together! How unorthodox this whole proceeding was turning out to be.

So the 12th of September was to be when his future bride and her father arrived. That was a week away and would give the household staff some time to prepare for a new mistress of Carleton Hall. He had yet to inform any of the staff of his marital intentions towards Miss Bostwick and was very sure they'd be surprised with his sudden behest to get the estate ready for a feminine presence. The Duke was just starting to realise the gravity of his hasty actions.

There hadn't been a woman step foot on the grounds of Carleton Hall except those of his two sisters in the last decade or so. Even The Duke hadn't spent much of his time at this estate. He was much too involved with his education abroad or being a bachelor in his house in Bath or London. Evidently, that latter pursuit hadn't been too successful. He chuckled sardonically and stroked his shaven chin contemplatively.

"Phillip! Where have you gone you silly boy!" A warm and somewhat shrill voice rang out. The words were spoken in a sing-song manner as if the person who had spoken was starting an operatic lilt.

The Duke lifted his head as the door to his study swung open.

"There you are! I had assumed you'd be here," a woman with blonde curls, a peachy complexion and a spring in her step entered Phillip's quiet chamber. And it was all the better for it as this particular woman had a remarkable talent of filling any room with more warmth than it previously had.

"Edith!" The Duke stood up to embrace the charming visage. "Why didn't you write? I haven't prepared your room! I take it Mr Campell accompanied you at the very least?"

Edith waved her hand to bat away Phillip's protestations, "Oh I didn't think it necessary to write! Besides I like to drop in on my brother every now and again unannounced," she emphasized the word 'unannounced' as if it was the climax of a joke. "It keeps your ageing mind spry!" Edith pinched his cheek good-naturedly. Phillip gave a joivial laugh in response.

Edith continued, "Don't you worry about my Mr Campbell. I assure you that he has kept me very comfortable for my many journeys. He insists he has to accompany me wherever I happen to go." She laughed "He's such a lovely thing my Mr Campbell."

Edith stepped back and looked around. There was silence for a moment as Edith took a deep breath. She chuckled brusquely.

"It feels as though I haven't been here for so long!" She exclaimed.

"None of us have," Phillip replied.

"Isn't that an odd..." Edith paused in what seemed to be contemplation for a moment, then with a gesticulation of her hands and a swift turn back towards her brother she exclaimed, "Well! What can be done about any of it I suppose? How have you been, you silly boy? You've kept your doting sister quite in the dark about your goings-on!"

"I'm afraid there is little I can enlighten you on. My recent days have been utterly dull,"

He thought of the letter from Mr Bostwick that he'd received. Should he tell her? Perhaps it wasn't wise. He resolved to postpone announcing his hasty marriage plans, at least until it was closer to the time the fated lady was to arrive.

"That can't be true! You are a Duke after all! There are no mysterious signs of poachers on your extensive estate? No alluring maiden you can't banish from your thoughts?"

Phillip smirked, "Oh, you quite overestimate the troubles that occupy my days. I have little to worry about other than finances and ledgers."

Edith waved her hands, "Ah, well then, I have no desire to hear it. You know how little interest I have in occupying my time with such dull things. I am much happier consigned to my reading and gathering flowers," she let out a joyous lilt of laughter.

"Oh, I am well aware of that, my dear sister. Perhaps you could help me by gathering flowers to liven up the colourless halls and rooms. I confess I have little eye for decoration. Not anything compared to yours."

"Are you trying to flatter me? I seem to recall that you have quite the eye for complimentary colours and prints," Edith teased.

"I could never flatter you into doing something you didn't want to do yourself, as you well know. And as to my uncompromisingly tasteful choice in prints and colours, they do not seem to apply to the art of floral arrangements I'm afraid," The Duke countered.

"On the contrary, I am easily persuaded. Therefore I must leave you now and hitherto commence my much-needed work," the golden-haired lady laughed and floated from the room.

Edith always reminded Phillip of the rosy-cheeked lovers from Italian operas and gothic tales but with the youthful fervour of someone half her age. Her amiable nature and aptitude for light-hearted gossip made her a favourite of society's eligible young ladies. Of course, she wasn't a part of that group for very long. Her fated Mr Campbell was quickly besotted with her and their courtship was swiftly gotten over with, permission was granted to Mr Campbell by a gracious Phillip, and the blushing couple were wed.

Phillip had, at that time, just returned from a short stint abroad. After a series of particularly intense bouts of illness, he decided that travelling didn't match his temperament. He therefore returned to London at the tail-end of his sister's courtship. Giving them enough time to request a special licence and be married in some frivolous (but reasonably tasteful) place of their choosing. Nobody could possibly have any objections to the perfectly paired couple.

The Duke started to consider once again his destined union. He felt a subtle sting when he considered he wouldn't be able to provide the doting attentions Mr Campbell bestowed on his sister to his betrothed. Petting and flirtation seemed to come to that couple so easily. Phillip couldn't imagine himself making any woman laugh and blush as Campbell did. Did those small attentions come natural to most men? Or were they simply studied actions that took practice to perfect?

If practice was what Phillip needed, he certainly didn't have much time to do it. He'd better get going on some sort of study. He didn't want to make an unfortunate first impression on his bride. 

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