3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

Louisa sat on her bed, knees pulled to her chest as she gazed at the stars through her bedroom window. She could make out several smaller constellations through the square opening, but nothing like she would see if she ventured outside. Her thoughts turned wistful as she considered it. How long had it been since those deep silences shrouded the house, driving her out of doors just to hear something? She would lay in the grass, arms above her head as she listened to the light breeze rustling the leaves of the trees above her. She had even dozed off a time or two, waking up to birdsong and the early morning sunrise that would kiss the sky with varying hues of pink. And there, in the quiet of night or early morning, Louisa had been able to cry where no one would see. She could be away from the closed door of her mother's room, silent from a distance, but as one neared, soft sobs would permeate the breadth of the door that separated them.

Now, after all these years, Louisa often wondered why she had not opened the door and crawled in with her mother, joining her instead of leaving the door between them, each alone in their misery. The truth, she supposed, was she did not enjoy others seeing that part of her.

Did she dare go outside now? It could be the last time before such actions could be questioned by her soon-to-be husband.

Husband.

Louisa turned the word over in her mind, attempting to come to grips with it. For so many years, she had put the idea off, not wanting to end with the same fate as her mother—a shell of the woman she once was. But a marriage to the duke would be nothing like the marriage her parents had shared. The duke would offer Louisa a home, a secure future, and a comfortable life. And with his prickly demeanor, she was safe from forming any true attachment to him.

Louisa gave the window one last yearning glance before laying her head down on her pillow for the night. Tomorrow she and her mother were to go to Stonemoore, the duke's residence just outside of town, to go over ideas for the ceremony—and she could not very well show up with bags beneath her eyes from little to no sleep. But when her head hit the pillow, her mind began to wander, keeping her awake. Perhaps going outside would offer her a much-needed distraction after all. And so, in the dead of night, she slipped from her bed, softly padding down the stairs and outside onto the chill, green grass where the brisk night air welcomed her.

And the stars whispered her name.

The next morning, Louisa barely saw herself in the looking glass, focused as she was on Violet's erratic pacing behind her. She had indeed fallen asleep in the grass last night, and was checking her hair to be sure no twigs or leaves protruded, giving herself away.

"This cannot be happening. You have simply gone mad." Violet put a gentle hand to her chignon. "You do not wish to marry. And yet, some man you have barely spoken to shows up at your brother's house and you say yes!" With that last statement, Violet spun toward her, meeting her eye in the looking glass.

Louisa let her shoulders sag, turning to face her directly. "I have thought this through, Violet. I do not take it lightly."

"I do not understand how that can be so." Violet shook her head, refusing to see reason.

Louisa stood, walking to Violet and taking her hands in her grasp. She smiled. "You and Henry set such a good example of marriage. How can I not want that for myself?" A blatant lie .

Violet rolled her eyes. "Now I know you are only attempting to placate me. Henry and I married for love. This is much different. You do not even know this man!"

"Fine," Louisa finally conceded. "I do not care for him romantically. And I doubt I ever shall." She grasped Violet's hands more firmly. "And that is precisely why I have accepted him."

Violet's brow puckered, and she sighed, so deep and long that Louisa almost sighed herself at the dramatics of it. Violet closed her eyes, then snapped them back open. "Please, explain yourself."

Louisa shrugged, dropping Violet's hands. "I want a practical marriage. Something that makes logical sense. The duke has offered that to me."

"But you can simply stay with Henry and Colin and me. There is no need to run off and marry a near stranger."

Louisa walked over to the bed and patted the spot beside her, and Violet obligingly followed. When she sat and gave Louisa her attention, Louisa continued.

"You and Henry have begun your own family. I do not want to intrude." She held her hand up before Violet could protest. "You may say I am not intruding, but I feel as if I am."

"Have either Henry or I given you that feeling? I will never forgive myself if we did."

"No." Louisa gave her a small smile. "You are the best sister I could have ever asked for. And more than that, you are my friend. But we cannot continue as we have been. You and your little family need a space of your own to fill and grow into. And I look forward to having a place of my own." Was that another lie? She honestly wasn't sure. But Louisa was certain that the duke was just the type of man she could marry without worry. His stuffiness guaranteed she would not feel affection for him. And if she did not hold affection for him, her heart would be safe.

"But it won't be your own," Violet continued. "It will be the duke's. And if he doesn't have an affection for you . . . I am merely concerned, Louisa."

"I know you are. And that is why I love you so much." Louisa leaned forward, giving Violet a quick hug before pulling back. "But I have made my decision. I am going to marry him."

Violet looked down at her lap, heaving another sigh before her mouth cracked into a faint grin. "Does he know about Prince?"

A laugh burst out of her. "I had not even thought to mention Prince to him. But how could his grace not love him?" Truthfully, it did not matter much what the duke thought of her dog. Prince was non-negotiable.

Violet shook her head, her smile wobbling at the edges. "I cannot believe this is happening. You are leaving." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and Louisa reached forward, holding Violet's fisted hand. Violet was all that was joy, love, sweetness, goodness, and emotion. Louisa was her opposite in almost every way. Yet during Violet's first season, they had formed a quick and unlikely friendship. Thick as thieves, some might say. And then, to Louisa's joy, Violet and Henry had fallen in love. Now her friend was her sister. What could be more beautiful than that? Louisa had her friends and family, so having love in her marriage was not as important as Violet seemed to think it was. In fact, it made things less complicated.

"I will not be far," Louisa continued. "We will both be in London during the season and the duke has assured Henry I am free to come and go as I please. It really is the best of all situations. I have my freedom, a home to manage, and a duke for a husband."

"You do not care for titles." Violet sniffed.

"No. But it sounds lovely, does it not? Duchess." Louisa lifted her head, jutting out her chin, which sent both girls into a fit of giggles. She gave Violet's hand a small squeeze. "I shall be visiting so often you will be sick of me."

Violet shook her head. "That is entirely impossible. You live with us now and I have never been sick of you a day in my life."

Louisa's eyes fell to the mattress. "My biggest complaint is that my wedding is going to be a huge affair. I would much prefer a small ceremony in a chapel out in the country."

Violet reached over to the night table, grabbing her handkerchief and swiping at a stray tear on her cheek as she fluttered her lashes to bat the rest of her tears away. "Have you told the duke that?"

Louisa shook her head, taking the kerchief and wiping another tear off Violet's cheek. "As if he would care to hear my concerns. As a duke, I'm sure there are expectations involving the ceremony."

"This is your wedding, Louisa. You should make your wishes known. Start this marriage off by letting him know you have needs and desires. As your husband, he is responsible, at the very least, to listen to said requests."

A knock sounded at the door, interrupting them.

Louisa scowled. Who could need her? "Come in."

The familiar brown hair of Louisa's maid appeared as she opened the door. "Your mother says you need to get ready soon." Miriam's wide eyes relaxed as they dipped to the floor, her next words a bit more timid. "Your mother says you are going."

Louisa almost laughed. Of course her mother would know she would attempt to get out of it. "Very good, Miriam. Thank you for letting me know. I shall need your assistance in a moment to get ready."

Miriam bobbed her head, turning to leave before she spun back around. She wrung her hands. "I have time now."

"Is there a rush?" Louisa asked.

"Your mother did say we should hurry. Mustn't leave a duke or duchess waiting after all."

Violet chuckled, standing. "I shall leave you ladies to it." Her eyes softened as her neck bobbed with a swallow. "At least consider voicing your opinions about the ceremony. This could be the first test of his grace's morals as a husband."

Louisa waved her off. "Yes, yes. I shall try to assert myself."

Violet cracked a smile as she walked toward the door. They both knew that assertion was not one of Louisa's weaknesses.

As Miriam tugged and pulled Louisa's hair into place, she thought of her choice again. It wasn't one she had made lightly or rushed into. Louisa remembered well those long-ago days her mother had spent locked in her room, unable to get out of bed.

That would not be Louisa's fate.

The carriage was mostly silent as they made the short jaunt to the edge of town. Louisa had seen Stonemoore before, but only in passing.

Her mother looked out the window, her chin held higher than usual. "How kind of the duke and his mother to invite us to tea. It really was a splendid idea. We are to be family in only a few short weeks." While attempting to hide it, Louisa could tell her mother was nervous.

"Do not fret, Mother. We are peers as well."

At this, her mother gave a slight shake of her head. "He is a duke, dear. Let us not pretend that is the same as your brother being a viscount."

"Do you fear the duchess will not treat you well?"

She sighed, fingering the small reticule she held in her lap. "I am unsure. She has never spoken to me before."

"I must admit it is hard to fathom me being a duchess." Louisa paused, relaxing into the seatback. "Me," Louisa said, laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. "The duke said he believed I would fit the role well, but I fear he might have been kicked in the head by a horse."

Her mother turned to face her. "I do not want you to sell yourself short, Louisa. I should be setting you a better example, and I will from this point on. When we enter their residence, I want you to hold your head high, pull your shoulders back and act as if you belong there. Because you do belong." She raised her brow. "Be the duchess his grace sees in you."

Before Louisa could reply, the carriage slowed to a stop. The door to their conveyance opened and Louisa saw the front door standing regally amidst the mansion before them. Her eyes tunneled, focusing sharply on the footmen standing by the door in full livery. They stood erect, waiting to perform their task promptly and with exact precision.

Her mother turned back toward her. "This is the time to make a firm impression, Louisa. I have no doubt you will succeed." She squeezed Louisa's hand before turning and accepting the footman's assistance as she exited the carriage.

Louisa followed, stepping out and letting her eyes slide over the fortress before her. A set of stairs flanked the front of the building, leading toward each other and arriving before the front door. On either side, windows stretched down the wings. Turrets marked the corners of the house, and an elegant statue rested atop the roof directly above where they stood.

"Remember," her mother said softly. "You belong here. Now behave as such."

Louisa nodded obediently, walking beside her to the door, holding her head high.

The footmen each took hold of their prospective door handles, opening the double doors in perfect unison. No sound creaked from the hinges, perfectly maintained as they were. The doors opened to an expansive foyer, where a butler stood in wait.

The gray-haired man gave a graceful bow. "His grace is waiting for you in the Lavender Room." He had a small stoop to his shoulders, but moved with a speed that defied his age. The butler led them across the marble floor and Louisa allowed herself a brief perusal of the room. Another set of double stairs graced each wall, leading up to the first floor, where her gaze was drawn to the largest and most extravagant chandelier she had ever seen.

As the butler opened the door to the Lavender Room, Louisa took note that it was very aptly named. Everything within alluded to the color. The paper covering the walls, the hue of the furniture, even the smell that lingered in the air. The most hilarious thing of all was how the imposing, stately duke who took his stand looked completely out of place in the overly feminine room.

"Lady Wood, Miss Morgan," the duchess intoned, standing beside her chair.

Louisa and her mother dipped into a deep curtsey, and the duke gave them a short bow.

"Please, take a seat." The duchess sat first, followed by Louisa and her mother, with the duke sitting last.

Louisa felt suffocated in the room's stuffiness and their hosts' demeanor. She reminded herself that once they were married, she would be free to do with her days as she wished. She need not let their behavior dictate her own.

"Miss Morgan." The duchess sat erect, her posture immaculate, her hair in perfect order and her skin, despite her age, glowing. "Let us not waste time. We shall go to the modiste and order you a new wardrobe in the next week. The gowns will not all be ready before your wedding, but if we ply Auclair with enough encouragement, I'm sure we can manage to get you five or so before then. You will need your wedding gown and a small closetful to get you by before the rest are ready. It will be a busy day, so plan to set the entirety of it aside."

"Of course," Lady Wood said, smiling. "Only tell us the day and we will be sure to leave it open."

Louisa opened her mouth, but before she could object, the duchess continued.

"Very good." The duchess gave a nod. "I will only stay on the premises for a few months to help you get acquainted with your expectations, and then I plan to remove myself to Willowcrest, our country estate in Dunwich," she clarified.

Louisa sat silent for a moment, absorbing everything. She had anticipated a new wardrobe would be required, but that did not mean she had to be in raptures over the idea of standing all day while being poked and prodded by a Frenchwoman with needles.

"Of course, Your Grace." She managed a tight smile.

"As far as the wedding goes," the duchess continued as the duke merely sat and listened. "I have scheduled the ceremony at Hanover Square."

Louisa's mouth opened, but she stopped any words of protest before they slipped out. Her mother turned slightly, raising her brow in question.

"Miss Morgan." The duke's low voice filled the room for the first time since they arrived, his deep-blue eyes finding hers. "Did you have something you would like to add?"

Well, if she was to be a duchess, she might as well start now. She wanted to make Violet proud, after all. "I would prefer a small ceremony outside of town."

The duchess scoffed as Louisa's mother spun toward her.

"Miss Morgan," the duchess began, "I am sure you can imagine why that simply won't do—"

"I will procure a special license tomorrow," the duke interrupted.

The duchess turned toward her son, working her mouth, her eyes full of fire. "You know that will not be acceptable to those that expect to attend."

"What does that matter?" the duke continued. His elbow rested on the arm of the settee. "What is the point of holding a prominent title if you cannot do as you wish once in a while?"

"Are you telling me that you would prefer your wedding ceremony to be in a—a country chapel?" The duchess and duke didn't seem to remember that Louisa and her mother were sitting and watching the entire affair unfold. Or perhaps they did and simply did not care. Oh, to be so highly ranked that one thought themselves even above manners.

"To be honest, I would," he said. "And since it is Miss Morgan's and my wedding, I feel the deal is settled." With this, he turned back to Louisa. "Is there a particular chapel you had in mind?"

She honestly hadn't expected him to accept the idea so quickly and was left floundering. "No . . . Though anything outside of town would be acceptable."

They continued to talk about the wedding and all that needed to be planned, with the duchess refusing to let their small chapel ceremony be sparse as well. They rose to leave, and Louisa felt exhaustion creep in. She needed to get herself together if this was to be her life.

The duke strode toward her, taking her hand. It wasn't romantic in the least, but a practical grasp to be sure she was steady on her feet. "Would you mind if I had a private word with Miss Morgan?"

The duchess looked as if she was about to protest, but finally nodded. "I suppose that would be fine."

"I will wait out in the carriage, Louisa," her mother said, turning and walking out beside the duchess. They left the door open.

The room fell silent when they were alone, the sound of footsteps having faded down the corridor.

The duke let their hands fall as he turned toward her. "Miss Morgan, I need you to be the woman I have observed over the years."

Louisa's eyes shot to his where he stood looking down at her with a flat expression. Did he ever give away what he was thinking and feeling? It was unsettling. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"The lady I observed at balls and garden parties was a woman who knew who she was, did not take flak from anyone, and gave her opinion decidedly. If you are going to be a duchess—"

"If? Do you mean you are calling it off already?" She raised her brow, unable to stop her quip.

His head tilted to the side, his brow marred by a tight scowl. "Of course not."

She couldn't help but grin. "I was teasing, Your Grace."

"Ah." He nodded. "Well, as I was saying, you need to stand up for yourself. People will trample you down if you let them. They will spread gossip, use you for their own self-gain, and manipulate you for their own interests. Wishing for your wedding to be in a different location may seem a small thing, but if you let the small things go, then you open the door for other opportunities as well."

She studied him as he stood tall before her. His shoulders were perfectly squared under his deep-blue jacket, his hair pomaded just so, with not a speck of dust on his attire. Perhaps that was not his natural way of things after all. Perhaps it was his form of self-preservation amidst a persnickety group of people.

Louisa tilted her chin so she met his eyes more directly. "I am up to the challenge, Your Grace. I only did not wish to start off at odds with your mother."

"My mother will fare fine. I believe she is more than ready to relinquish her role as duchess."

"Well, is there any possibility I can get out of the modiste appointment?"

The corner of the duke's mouth quirked for a moment before disappearing again. "I am afraid that will be harder to arrange than moving the location of our wedding." His head snapped toward the door. "Actually, I have forgotten something." He walked to a table on the border of the room, his strides long and quick. "My mother gave me this after I told her of our engagement," he called over his shoulder before turning and coming back to her side. He handed her an emerald-green, velvet box. "It is tradition."

Jewelry? "I couldn't . . ." She held her hand out to stop him. It felt too intimate. It felt too much like the beginning of . . . something.

The duke continued to hold the box out. "If you are to be a duchess, you need to become accustomed to having things such as this."

She straightened her shoulders. It wasn't a romantic gift or gesture. It was tradition. She could allow tradition. "Very well." Louisa took the box, lightly trailing her thumb over the smooth velvet before snapping it open. All she could do was stare at the jewels that glistened atop a white silk lining. Diamonds sparkled in the middle of rubies, each forming a circle of petals. Ruby and diamond flowers.

It was exquisite.

She lifted her gaze to find him watching her admire the gems. "I cannot deny this is a bit more than I was expecting today."

"Allow me." The duke took the box from her hand, placing it on an end table and taking the necklace from its protective casing. Louisa wanted to tell him to stop and not trust her with such a thing, but before she knew it, he stood behind her, clasping the jewels around her neck. His gloved finger skimmed the tender skin, and she stopped herself from sucking in a surprised breath.

She swallowed, putting her hand to the small weight around her neck. "Thank you."

"Would you care to see?" He held a hand out toward a looking glass.

She walked over, keeping her shoulders straight. But when her gaze landed on the reflection staring back at her, she couldn't help but admire the result. The necklace was magnificent. And it was hers . Louisa trailed her fingers gently across the jewels, finally meeting the duke's eyes in the glass. "Thank you, Your Grace. They are truly beautiful."

He dipped his head. "I'm glad they are to your taste. If you could wear them on our wedding day, I know my mother would appreciate it."

Wearing the jewels would be an easy task. She had nothing of the sort herself that would even compare. "Of course." She smiled, turning back to him. "Now, as far as our marriage goes, is there anything else we should discuss on that matter? We may not have another opportunity alone. It sounds like my schedule will be quite full from now until the wedding."

"Is there anything you feel needs to be further discussed?"

"I suppose I wish to make one thing clear."

He nodded, encouraging her along.

"This is a marriage of convenience. Not a marriage based upon affection." Louisa watched for his reaction, but there was none. Not even a flinch of his eyes or a twitch of his finger. "Do we agree upon that point?"

"Yes."

"Then I propose we strike a bargain of sorts."

He tilted his head. "Isn't marriage a bargain in and of itself?"

"Yes," she allowed. "But I propose something else."

She felt he was doing his best to hold in a sigh of long-suffering. He did not give away his feelings freely. "Very well. What is it?"

"Friends?" She held out her hand. "If we are to be in each other's company for years to come, I think it would benefit us both."

He stared at her hand, and a clock in the room ticked off the beats of silence. She did not drop her hand as she waited for him to agree. Forming a sort of alliance between them would make their early marriage more comfortable for them both. Surely he could not see a problem with such an arrangement.

The duke finally reached a hand out, taking hers. It was warm and strong. "Friends?"

Louisa couldn't determine if he was agreeing to it or questioning her sanity. But she decided to take it.