Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

“ H ector, my dear cousin,” Marcus greeted with a teasing smile as he strolled into Hector’s elegantly furnished study. “I hear you are to become a married man tomorrow. Even Jonathan is shocked. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Standing at the window and gazing at the bustling London Street below, Hector grimly turned to face Marcus.

“I am not doing this for myself, Marcus. What is it you want?”

“You do not seem to be excited to be a groom although I cannot say I am surprised.” Marcus approached and placed a comforting hand on his cousin’s shoulder.

“I understand your devotion to Lydia’s memory, Hector, but you must remember that she was not responsible for what happened and neither were you. The lady that you intend to wed out of obligation to your sister is a person, not a means to an end.”

Hector sighed, his stern resolve momentarily wavering. “I know, Marcus, but this marriage is my sworn duty, and there is nothing more to it. This is a promise I must fulfill.”

Marcus nodded thoughtfully, taking a seat across from Hector. “I wish you wouldn’t restrict yourself to such a mindset. I know you feel this is necessary, but don’t forget to see Juliet for who and what she is. She may surprise you yet. Moreover, she has played no part in the tragedies that have befallen our family.”

Hector looked at Marcus with a sigh. He was among the few people who knew his reason for getting married. “I have already made the arrangements. The wedding will take place as planned.”

“It’s a shame your friend, the Duke of Silverbrook, couldn’t be here,” Marcus continued. “Last I heard, he’s vacationing with his family in Ireland."

“Yes,” Hector replied. “Perhaps that is for the best.”

“I’m surprised you do not wish to wait for your dear friend to be in attendance,” Marcus said, stroking his beard. “Is there something you are not telling me?"

“I do not wish to contract the spreading illness amongst you,” replied Hector.

His friend might have been a rake like him, but once he’d wedded, the Duke of Silverbrook underwent a change, similar to his cousin after he wed.

“What illness?” Marcus questioned, bewildered.

“The one that stopped Jonathan from partaking in our usual frolicking since he married. The same one stopping you ever since you married. It must be a sickness.”

Marcus threw his head back in a peal of laughter. “That’s love, dear cousin, not an illness,” he countered amidst bouts of laughter. “And you seem to have been bitten by the bug as well because since Lydia passed, you haven’t visited the brothels or…”

“Marcus,” Hector warned, clenching his teeth.

Marcus raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m sorry. I’ve only come to wish the groom well.”

Hector leaned back in his seat.

The impending marriage weighed heavily on his shoulders. Still, he had resolved to go through with it, refusing to show any sign of weakness. But that wasn’t what bothered him at the moment.

His mind seemed bent on parading his future wife before his eyes. He couldn’t shake the image of Juliet’s alarmed expression when he had announced their wedding plans.

Her protests, though brief, had been filled with a feistiness that intrigued him. More often than not, Hector now found his thoughts lingering on her.

“I am truly sorry about Lydia,” Marcus said solemnly when his cousin remained silent.

“Well. At least she’s finally free from her pain and suffering,” was all Hector could manage.

Hector recalled the somber night he’d made that promise to his sister. Days had turned into weeks as Lydia’s condition had worsened. He’d remained by her side, providing her with what little comfort he could.

Her request still haunted him, but he was going to see it through regardless. He’d immediately begun making inquiries to learn more about the convent where Juliet had been confined.

The reports he’d received were far worse than Lydia had described. The girls housed there suffered from neglect, malnutrition, illnesses, and harsh discipline.

Marcus quipped, “I am glad that you have finally regained your senses. I am sorry that this was what it took, but it is likely for the best.”

He was drawn out of his thoughts by Marcus’s words. “Of course.”

“You need to find a way to connect with Juliet,” Marcus said without preamble, “if this marriage is happening just as you’d planned. You can make it something more than just a duty to Lydia and build something for yourself in the process.”

Hector frowned, his jaw tightening. “I have no desire to do so. I shall perform my obligations, but that is where it ends.”

Marcus leaned forward in his seat. “I know, but think about what Lydia would have wanted. She would not have meant for you to be unhappy, and she certainly wouldn’t have wanted you to make her friend miserable either.”

Hector ran a hand through his hair, pondering his cousin’s words.

“My sister asked me to take care of her friend, and that is what I shall do. She never asked me to love her. I did not believe that marriage was the best or only way to support a woman I had only heard of, but it was what Lydia requested of me in her final moments. I will not disappoint my sister, but I refuse to get more involved with the woman than necessary.”

“That hardly sounds like a marriage, then,” Marcus stated worriedly. “I really do hope you’ll make the most of it at least.”

Hector waved a hand in the air dismissively.

“I will do as Lydia asked, but no more than that. My marriage matters aside…how have your businesses been fairing as of late? I suppose that’s part of the reason you stopped by.”

Marcus smiled gently. He had once been like Hector, resolute and resistant, until his wife had claimed his heart. Seeing Hector’s stubborn expression, he decided to let the subject rest. “Yes. There is a potentially profitable business idea I want your opinion on. If we are successful in its execution, it shall yield great benefits for you and your Duchess.”

“Am I the only one who will reap such benefits?” Hector asked, raising an eyebrow.

Marcus laughed. “I was getting to that. We expect to earn greatly from it. And when I say we, I mean the two of us and our partner.”

Hector frowned. He didn’t like involving others in his affairs. He preferred running a business on his own rather than pairing up with shrewd businessmen. “I won’t do it.”

Marcus sighed, resorting to a familiar tactic.

“Pity. I did promise to buy my darling Emma some new dresses and give the children riding lessons. I suppose I’ll have to find a different extremely promising business opportunity," he said.

“That is low, Marcus. I will skip right over that, my friend, and ask how your wife and those sweet little beasts are doing.

Leaning back in his seat, Marcus relaxed. “They are well. We must investigate these estate deals, and then they shall love me all the more.”

“Marcus, that is simply not going to happen,” Hector insisted, refusing to fall prey to his trickery.

“You haven’t even heard who the third person is,” Marcus countered.

“I don’t need to,” he said flatly.

“It’s Edwin,” Marcus said. “You like the Earl of Somerton, don’t you?”

Hector shook his head. “As a friend, yes, but not as a business partner.”

“There is no convincing you, is there?” Marcus asked, throwing himself back in his chair in exasperation.

Hector’s expression softened slightly, but he remained firm. “You know how I feel about involving others in my affairs, Marcus.”

“I understand, but Somerton is dependable. He is someone we can trust, and this venture has the potential to significantly benefit us all.”

Hector remained silent while he contemplated the opportunity. He trusted Marcus and knew he wouldn’t propose something frivolous, but his instinct to maintain control over his business dealings was stronger.

“I will think about it,” he conceded.

Marcus nodded, understanding this was the best answer he could currently hope for. “But we both know you won’t. You are as stubborn as they come.”

Just then, a knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Hector’s butler entered, bowing slightly. “Your Grace, Mr. Herbert is here to see you.”

Hector straightened up, his mood darkening slightly. “Send him in.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Issues with the estates again?”

He nodded. “Likely. The Dabneys are more trouble than they are worth.” Hector braced himself for the inevitable onslaught of unwelcome news.

Mr. Herbert entered, looking as grim as ever. He bowed respectfully.

“Your Grace,” Mr. Herbert began, “I have some new information regarding the estates.”

“Let’s hear it,” Hector said with a wary frown.

Mr. Herbert cleared his throat. “There have been further complications with the tenants. The Dabneys have vacated, but new issues have arisen. Several tenants are behind on their rent.”

Hector frowned. “Send them all out and replace them with sensible humans.”

Mr. Herbert hesitated, glancing at Marcus before continuing, “Rumors regarding your marriage to Lady Juliet seem to be a contributing factor that might affect the admission of new tenants, Your Grace.”

Hector’s jaw tightened. He had hoped to keep the details of his marriage private, but it appeared that was going to be impossible. “I have no time for pettiness, Herbert. Do what is necessary.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” Mr. Herbert replied. “I will look into it immediately.”

As Herbert left, Marcus leaned back in his chair with a concerned look.

“I am sure that you know your marriage to a damsel who has been locked away for years in a convent is bound to raise eyebrows, given your reputation of a rake.”

Hector ran a hand through his hair. “Not you, too, Marcus.”

“I know,” Marcus said quietly, leaving his seat. “I’ll tell you about our initial deal after the wedding.”

Hector nodded, but his mind was already racing with plans to address the mounting issues. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions cloud his judgment. Lydia’s request had set his course in motion, and he was determined to see it through.

“As long as we are doing it ourselves. I’ll have my attorney look into it.”

“Thank you, my friend. We shall meet again soon,” Marcus chuckled as he strode out of the study.

The door to the expansive living room opened as Hector’s butler let in a middle-aged man who had bags of clothes hanging from both arms.

“The tailor has arrived with your wedding attire, Your Grace,” John informed, gesturing to the man by his side.

Hector, looking up from his contemplations and sighed.

The tailor bowed slightly. “Good day, Your Grace. I have brought the final fittings for your wedding suit. Shall we proceed?"

Marcus stepped back inside, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “His wedding suit? Well, I suppose I could stay longer to offer my expert opinion."

Hector grunted but motioned for the tailor to enter. “Let’s get this over with.”

He shrugged out of his coat and allowed the tailor to drape the luxurious fabric of the wedding suit over his broad shoulders.

Marcus leaned against the wall, an amused smile on his face.

“Ah, Hector, you clean up nicely,” he teased. “If only you exhibited the same degree of mindfulness in other aspects of your life.”

Hector shot his cousin a withering glance but said nothing and focused on his reflection in the mirror. The suit was undeniably well made, with every stitch and seam meticulously crafted, yet he was unimpressed.

“The shoulders need to be taken in slightly,” Hector noted, turning around. “And the waistcoat feels a bit tight. I need to be able to breathe.”

The tailor nodded, making quick adjustments with his pins and chalk. “Of course, Your Grace. I will see to it at once.”

Marcus chuckled. “Always the perfectionist, aren’t you? When we were boys, you would not rest until every detail was exactly right, even in the most trivial of matters.”

“You make me sound like a difficult person to be with.”

Hector’s cousin leveled him with flat stare.

“I recall when you were at Cambridge, you could not stand the thought of sharing a room with someone who possessed habits you disliked, so you created portfolios of them containing their vital information and conducted interviews to ensure they weren’t likely to disappoint you.”

Hector’s gaze softened momentarily as he met Marcus’ eyes in the mirror. “I do not like unwelcome surprises. Some habits die hard, I suppose.”

The tailor finished his adjustments and stepped back. “I will make these changes and deliver the final suit early tomorrow, Your Grace.”

“Thank you,” Hector replied curtly, turning his attention back to Marcus. “Why are you still here?”

Marcus scoffed. “All right, I shall take my leave. I know when I am not needed.”

Hector left the room before Marcus had finished his sentence and headed straight to his study. On the way, his housekeeper caught up with him.

“Your Grace, the room is ready. Would you like to see it?” Estella waited with bated breath for his response. She was an elderly woman had served the Duke and his family for a long time.

“Yes,” Hector nodded, a little surprised that he cared about such a mundane task.

Marcus hadn’t been wrong. Hector was, in many ways, a perfectionist. It was important to him that his marriage went smoothly down to the finest detail, and that also included ensuring that his new wife’s living quarters were perfect.

Estella stepped aside as she opened the door, so he could enter.

The room was warm and inviting and had cheerful lighting.

“I approve of your choices in the décor,” he said approvingly. “If she doesn’t like it, please see to it that it’s refurbished to her taste.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Estella said with a bow as he exited the room.

“One more thing, Estella,” Hector said, stopping slightly. “I may not always be home. I want you to ensure my wife is well looked after when I am absent. Also, please have the adjourning room redecorated for me.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” The housekeeper nodded.

Hector continued his walk back to his study, his mind straying momentarily to thoughts of his impending wedding.

He had worked tirelessly to ensure that the day would be perfect. He only hoped that his bride-to-be had come to terms with their situation.

I suppose we shall soon find out what that will entail.

.