Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"You will come for the wedding, won't you, Marian?" Johanna's mother said, and her aunt nodded.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. It'll be a wonderful day. I'm so happy for you, Johanna. Thank you again for accompanying me on my adventure. I'll have to find a new traveling companion now, though, won't I? I doubt the earl would allow his new wife to go gallivanting across Europe on her own," Johanna's aunt said, smiling, and now she kissed Johanna on the cheek and patted her arm.

Johanna stood to wave her aunt off, sighing as she and her mother returned inside. Her aunt's departure marked the end of their adventure, and seeing her leave made Johanna realize this was the beginning of a new chapter in her life—whether she liked it or not. The earl had returned to Beaumont Abbey two days previously, and news of their engagement had now spread far and wide. The question of a scandal had been averted, and they had heard nothing from the Parker sisters, not even a whisper.Johanna's mother no longer spoke of their going up to London for the Season. But there was a sense in which Johanna felt her future was now mapped out for her. She liked the earl—he was handsome, intelligent, quick-witted, and a delight to converse with. But as for marrying him…

"Now then, there's no time to lose, Johanna. We've got a lot to organize if you're to be married before the end of the Season," Johanna's mother said.

The exact date of the wedding had not yet been decided, but it seemed Johanna would have little say in the matter, given the pleasure her mother took in organizing such things. It was, after all, a mother's prerogative to do so, and Johanna knew she had little choice but to go along with whatever her mother said. The alternative was worse, and Johanna had come to realize it was better the devil she knew—or, at least, vaguely knew.

"But does it have to be so soon, Mother?" Johanna asked, and her mother tutted.

"Why wouldn't you want it to be? The sooner the better, I'd have thought. I'm sure the earl thinks the same. And besides, summer weddings are always so much nicer. Don't you think?" she asked.

Johanna nodded. She had not thought the matter would be so quickly settled on, though it made perfect sense to do so. The proposal had come so suddenly—it was all a blur—given out of necessity, rather than mutual attraction. Had there been a conventional courtship, perhaps those feelings would have grown naturally, but now Johanna was to be married without feeling anything except a vague sense of gratitude. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered if she had moved too hastily to accept. She and the earl had barely spent any time together, and yet now they were to be married, and Johanna was to be the Countess of Beaumont. It all seemed…

"It's very quick," Johanna said, and her mother raised her eyebrows.

"You do want this, don't you, Johanna?" she asked, and Johanna nodded.

There was nothing else she could say but yes, and yet the more she thought about it, the more she feared what life would be like if she went through with the marriage and became the earl's wife. The alternative—to be dogged by scandal and rumor for the rest of her life—did not present an attractive thought. But either solution entailed a commitment to a certain way of life, one Johanna remained uncertain about.

"I do, Mother, yes," Johanna said, and her mother patted her on the arm.

"I'm so glad to hear it, Johanna. You deserve to be happy, and I'm going to make sure you have the most perfect of wedding days," she said.

Johanna forced a smile to her lips, thanking her mother, before making her way outside to the garden. She was usually at her happiest there—among the roses and lavender. But today, even the beauty of the garden could not lift her mood. She felt miserable, and as she crossed the lawn, she thought about running away and never coming back.

"Is everything all right, Miss Follett? You don't look very happy," the gardener, Mr. Wilson, said.

He was clipping the box hedge—a topiary sculpture of a peacock—and Johanna turned, surprised to find him there, for she had not noticed him as she had left the house.

"Oh...Mr. Wilson...I'm quite all right, thank you. I've just got a lot on my mind," Johanna said.

"I heard you're going to marry the Earl of Beaumont. This wouldn't have anything to do with finding him in the woods, would it?" he asked, and Johanna blushed.

"Well...I'm not sure. Not everyone knows the full story. We were seen—by the Parker sisters. Perhaps you don't know, but they're terrible gossips, and they thought they saw something they didn't. It's embarrassing to talk about. Anyway, the earl proposed out of a sense of honor, I suppose. But I just don't know whether to go through with it. What do you think I should do? He wanted to safeguard my reputation, you see. But I don't think it was damaged. Well...perhaps some people might've thought ill of us. But you were there. You know there was nothing untoward about our encounter," Johanna said, and the gardener nodded.

"I'd swear to it," he said.

Johanna was grateful to him. But she knew others would not be so forgiving. It would take only the merest hint of a rumor for a scandal to erupt, and now she felt trapped by the circumstances she and the earl had found themselves in. Mr. Wilson's word would not stand up against that of the Parker sisters, and Johanna knew it was futile to imagine it might.

"But I don't think I have any choice, you see. He's perfectly nice, of course. More than that, he's handsome, kind, and charming. But is that really enough?" Johanna asked.

It was a question as much to herself as to the gardener, who now scratched his head and shrugged.

"I don't know much about these things, Miss Follett, but I'd say it can take a lifetime to understand how we feel. But it's what's in here that matters most," he said, tapping his chest.

Johanna nodded. He was right, but as for what her heart was telling her, Johanna remained confused. Heart and mind were not as one, and while the idea of marrying the earl was not repulsive—far from it—the possibility of falling in love with him seemed remote.

"But should a person always marry for love, Mr. Wilson?" Johanna persisted, and the old gardener smiled.

"I think you've answered your own question there, Miss Follett," he replied.

Johanna was about to reply when a voice came from across the garden, and turning, she found Roger coming toward them.

"Johanna—I'm going to Beaumont Abbey to see Edmund. Why don't you come? You haven't seen him since the proposal, have you?" he said, and Johanna shook her head.

She had not known whether it was proper to call on the earl or not. He had written to her—thanking her again for what she had done—but as for a more formal arrangement, or the suggestion of the two of them spending time together…

"Well...no, I haven't. But I could come, I suppose. Yes...why not?" Johanna said, glancing at Mr. Wilson, who smiled.

"Good luck, Miss Follett—and don't forget, you'll always have your garden," he said.

***

"I thought we were going to have so much trouble over the matter," Edmund's mother said, taking a sip from her cup and smiling at Edmund as she set it down on the table between them.

They were taking tea in the drawing room at Beaumont Abbey, and the dowager countess had been repeating her delight at the fact of the proposal Edmund had made.

"I'm not entirely helpless in these matters, Mother," he said, and his mother laughed.

"No...but you were hardly making progress, either. Were you? I thought you simply didn't care about marrying—or the continuation of the line," she said.

"I care about it a great deal, Mother. But I wasn't about to marry just anyone, was I?" Edmund said.

"Then how fortuitous you should've met Miss Follett. She's such a delightful creature—I'd have chosen her myself," the dowager said, and Edmund smiled.

His mother was right. Johanna was a delightful creature, and the fact of her agreeing to the proposal had come as something of a pleasant surprise. Edmund had expected to be dismissed, but now he found himself on the brink of marriage—a marriage that would surely satisfy both parties, even as its protagonists knew better. Edmund was under no illusion as to Johanna's feelings toward him. He was not in love with her, and she was not in love with him—how could either of them be? And yet they had discovered in one another a mutual benefit in what they were about to embark on—as well as a saving grace. For Johanna, marriage would mean an end to her mother's plans for a London Season, and for Edmund, it would mean an end to his mother's plans to marry him off. Both of them would be given time to make alternative arrangements, and if a quiet breaking of the betrothal was necessary, so be it. More importantly, the prospect of a scandal had been averted, and Johanna's reputation had been saved. In truth, Edmund had not given much thought to the details—nor the implications. But it was enough to be grateful for the here and now, the prospect of their impending marriage looming large.

"I'm glad you approve of her, Mother, and without the need for your own intervention," Edmund said.

His mother raised her eyebrows.

"You know I only have your best interests at heart. I want you to be happy, Edmund. I wasn't always happy myself here—you know that. Your father was a good man, but it wasn't always easy," the dowager said.

There was a wistful look in her eyes, and Edmund feared she was about to upset herself.

"But it wasn't all bad, was it?" he said, hoping to gently encourage her into happier thoughts.

The dowager nodded.

"Not at all, no. And if only Beaumont Abbey hadn't been so...remote. I was worried we'd never find anyone for you in the district. I had it in mind to take you back to London with me. It's so much easier there. Anyway, none of that matters now. You're to be married to Miss Follett, and I couldn't be happier," she said, taking another sip of tea and smiling.

Edmund was glad to think his mother had been appeased. He had feared she would object to the match, but it seemed Johanna had made as good an impression on her as she had on Edmund himself. He had no doubts as to her suitability for the role of countess, and he was looking forward to their shared companionship, even as the question of what marriage would really be like remained.

"I'm glad to hear it, Mother," Edmund said, just as the housekeeper, Mrs. Parks, entered the room.

"Excuse me, my lord, my lady, but there're visitors here to see you—Mr. Follet and Miss Follett. I've shown them into the morning room," she said.

Edmund was surprised—though pleasantly so. He had not expected Johanna to visit him, and now he rose from the tea table and followed Mrs. Parks out into the hallway. His arm was still in a sling, and Doctor Arnold had told him it would be some weeks before the first signs of healing were evident. But the bruising was almost gone, and Edmund's body no longer ached as it had done in the previous days. He was eager to get back to his duties—and his riding—though the doctor had urged him to rest a little longer.

"How nice of her to call on us, Edmund. I'm very impressed," Edmund's mother said, and now the two of them entered the morning room, where they found Johanna and her brother waiting for them.

"Ah, the patient lives," Roger said, grinning at Edmund, who laughed.

"Yes, I wasn't to be gotten rid of so easily. But this is an unexpected pleasure. I'm very glad to see you both," Edmund said, glancing at Johanna and smiling.

Her expression was difficult to read, and now Edmund wondered if she was perhaps having second thoughts. There was a thoughtfulness in her look, as though she was pondering the situation, rather than delighting in it. Edmund knew he could not expect Johanna to feel as she might have had they had more time, and yet he hoped the prospect of their marriage was not a bleak one. Given time, the two of them might come to form a stronger bond than that of a mere arrangement. He found her attractive, not only in looks, but in demeanor, too. She was an interesting character, with all manner of stories to tell, and despite reminding himself of the practicalities of the match, there seemed no harm in imagining its benefits, too.

"Well, I thought I should bring Johanna with me—the two of you should spend some time together. You're going to have the rest of your lives together, after all," Roger said.

Edmund smiled and nodded. He did not know how Roger felt about the situation. Was he in favor of the match, or was he questioning it?

"Perhaps we could walk in the garden?" Edmund suggested—for whatever Roger thought about the situation, he was right about their spending time together before making such a life-changing commitment.

"An excellent idea—you two go ahead. We'll act as chaperone, won't we, Roger?" Edmund's mother said, taking Johanna's brother by the arm.

Roger nodded, and Edmund now did the same for Johanna—offering her his unbroken arm and leading the way out into the garden. It was a beautiful day, and the scent of the flowers perfumed the air as they walked in the warm sunshine on the lawn.

"I wish I could ride out. I've been dying to get back into the saddle. But Doctor Arnold was very firm on the matter," Edmund said as he and Johanna walked ahead of his mother and Roger.

"And he was right to be so. You can't go riding out with a broken arm. What if you fell again?" Johanna asked, and Roger blushed.

He did not like to feel himself helpless—unable to do what he had always taken for granted.

"Well...I suppose you'd have to pick me up again," he said, and Johanna smiled.

"You were very lucky I found you...I dread to think what would've happened...well, if I hadn't. It's so unfair, isn't it? One tries to help…" Johanna replied.

"And ends up with a betrothal," Edmund replied, and Johanna laughed; she was even prettier when she laughed.

"I'm very grateful to you, Miss Follett, and I hope you don't feel as though I've taken advantage in my proposal. I really think it's for the best—for both of us," Edmund said.

He did not want her to feel trapped or forced into something she was not certain about. But the alternative was not palatable—whispers of scandal, a ruined reputation, and the possibility Johanna might never find a husband if word of what had happened reached the capital. Society was fickle, and if Johanna's reputation was tarnished, she would find herself attracting only the dregs of the social scene. But Edmund had his own reputation to think of, too, and if he was not to marry Johanna, he could only imagine the sort of woman who might be attracted to a man considered free with his favors if news of what had happened in the woods should become widely known…

"You're right. I've thought about it a lot, and...well, I think it's for the best. I won't say it's ideal, but it'll do," Johanna replied.

Edmund nodded. He could hardly expect more, reminding himself they barely knew one another. And yet, because of the events that had brought them together, the sense of intimacy they had shared—his own vulnerability and her obvious strength of character in helping him—Edmund felt close to her. Far closer than he had ever felt to any other woman of his acquaintance.

"But in time—given the right circumstances, I'm sure we'll grow closer. It's just a matter of getting to know one another, isn't it?" Edmund said, and Johanna nodded.

"It'll take time. But you're right—I'm sure we'll come to an understanding. It's best for us both, isn't it? My mother was going to take me to London for the Season. She'd have married me off to some awful aristocrat—probably older than me and certainly dull. No...this way is much better," Johanna said, and Edmund smiled.

"I hope I'm not dull. You'll have to tell me if I am," he said, and Johanna laughed.

"No, I don't think you're dull. Not at all. You seem to have led a very interesting life so far—and to have an interesting life ahead of you," she said, and Edmund blushed.

He did not think his life had been particularly interesting—and certainly not in comparison to hers. The thought of the stories she had told him of her travels in Europe had inspired a sense of adventure in him. How wonderful it would be to see these remarkable sights for himself and to experience other cultures, other lives, and traditions.

"You're the one who's led an interesting life, Miss Follett. My own hasn't been much to speak of—following the path of duty. That's what I've done. I'm proud of that, though I wasn't entirely prepared for the burden of responsibility given to me. My father died unexpectedly, you see. And what choice does the son of an earl have but to inherit the title. It's a strange thing—born into a lack of choice," Edmund said.

He had been reflecting on his own words a lot recently. His life had been marked by great privilege, but also the knowledge of what that privilege meant. Edmund had not made many choices for himself, and in his proposal to Johanna, he had at last been given the chance to make such a choice, rather than see it made for him.

Johanna nodded. "Yes, I see that. I couldn't imagine it for myself, though I suppose Roger's the same. Perhaps that's why the two of you get on so well," she said, and Edmund smiled.

"Yes, perhaps it is. I must say, it's a strange thing—duty. It requires so much of one. I don't shirk from it, but there are days when I wish it wasn't mine to bear," he said.

They had reached the far side of the lawn now, and turning, they had a view back across the gardens to Beaumont Abbey. It was a magnificent house—one of the finest in the county. Edmund was glad to be its master, and yet there were times—particularly recently—when he had felt the burden of responsibility more acutely. He was still young, and to have the path before him so clearly mapped out had given him reason for resentment. Johanna's stories of travel and adventure had made him realize what he had missed out on—that there was still so much he wanted to do and see.

"Would you give it up?" Johanna asked, and Edmund sighed.

"How could I? It's mine—and it's my duty to continue it as best I can," he replied.

"You mean by producing an heir?" Johanna asked, and Edmund blushed.

When he had asked Johanna to marry him, it had been for a practical reason, and the avoidance of scandal. But she was right—there would be the expectation of an heir. There had to be, otherwise a fresh scandal would be created.

"I suppose so, yes. But...we can talk about such things later, I suppose. For now...well, I'm glad you came. I know this is all very odd—for both of us. But I think we can make it work. Don't you?" he said, and Johanna smiled—she had a beautiful smile, a smile that lit up her face, genuine and sincere.

"I think we can, yes," she replied, and Edmund smiled back at her, wondering if perhaps one day she could come to love him and hoping the same could be said for him, too.