Chapter Four

E lizabeth pretended she didn't notice the way people were whispering around her as she and Duncan strolled through Hyde Park. Why did she care about the things they were saying? They didn't know her. They believed the ridiculous rumors Lord Roland started. And all because of what? Because she wounded his pride by saying no when he wanted to dance? She hated Lord Roland for being so childish. What made him think he had a chance with her? Beautiful ladies didn't concern themselves with ugly gentlemen, unless that gentleman happened to be wealthy. And she knew Lord Roland was facing financial distress. At least, he had been until his sister married Lord Quinton. But secure or not with his finances, Elizabeth would never want someone like Lord Roland.

She forced back the urge to sigh. She was trying to have a pleasant day. However, given the damage to her reputation, that might not be possible.

"Are you sure you want to be outside?" Duncan asked in a gentle voice.

"Yes," she replied. "I love walking. I've missed taking walks ever since I've become the scourge of London."

"I don't know if scourge is the right term, but I understand what you're saying. I don't envy your situation. If I could afford it, I would take you back to America with me."

"I wouldn't go to America if you offered. I have no desire to go to a country that doesn't appreciate our traditions."

"I wouldn't say they don't appreciate our traditions," he was quick to argue. "They just do things differently than we do them here."

"They're rebellious and uncivilized." She shivered. "You're a duke now. You can't tell me they'll appreciate that."

"I have a business that could very well become successful if I return. I might have inherited a title, but at heart, I am an entrepreneur."

She didn't see what was so exciting about that, but he seemed impressed by it, so she supposed that counted for something. Considering he didn't have to marry Lord Roland, his lot was better than hers.

"I hate my life," she muttered. "And I blame Lord Roland for it. Before he came along, everything was fine."

"There's no doubt that he has done significant harm, but at least he is trying to—"

"If you finish that sentence, I'll scream," she interrupted. "Then we'll really get attention from the fools around us."

He hesitated before answering, "All right, I won't say it."

"Thank you." God knew he'd said it enough already. One would think Lord Roland was a hero by the way he talked.

"You have to admit the money will be nice. After the servants have been paid for the month, we practically live like paupers. A lady ought to be able to run to the market and shop whenever she wishes."

She shrugged. George was the one to blame for that. Ever since they were children, she worried he was going to run them into destitution. Their father tried to teach him how to be wise with money, but George cared more for his pleasures than the condition of the estate. She tried to warn her parents, but they had shushed her, saying that it wasn't her place to speak ill of her brother. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. A lot of good her silence did. It had emboldened George to do whatever he wanted. She was glad he was dead. Sure, she wore black in public, but other than that, she didn't do anything to grieve his absence.

"I should probably let you know that your wedding will be in five days," Duncan said in a voice so low she almost didn't hear him.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she stopped walking and asked, "Did you wait until we were on this walk to tell me that?"

He faced her, paused, and confirmed her suspicions with a nod. "I thought the news was best given in a public setting."

She bit down on her tongue. Hard. She might have been willing to scream if he had repeated that stupid sentiment about Lord Roland being wonderful for marrying her—and saving her from the blight of spinsterhood—but this news had taken her by surprise. She knew he had sought out a special license, but she had assumed it was going to take longer than a mere week to arrange it.

"Lord Roland assured me that he will give you a generous allowance when we talked this morning," Duncan continued, as if all of her problems could be solved by material possessions.

"Why would an allowance make me feel better?"

"Being able to buy things you enjoy should make the marriage more tolerable. And besides, he has enough money to ensure you won't go hungry."

"I'm not going hungry now."

"Not yet. I can only pay the servants for another two months." He paused then added, "The best thing is for you to marry someone who can put food on the table, keep a roof over your head, and see to other comforts. I will need to go back to America. My business isn't much at the moment, but it's a lot better than what we both inherited."

Her face warmed with rage. It took all of her willpower to avoid lashing out. If Lord Roland hadn't killed George, she would have been tempted to kill him herself. She didn't realize he had brought his household to the point of starvation.

Duncan took her by the elbow and urged her to continue their walk. "You don't have to like Lord Roland. There are plenty of married couples who don't like each other. This idea that marriages happen because the gentleman and lady are in love isn't common. Most marriages are arranged or done out of necessity. Now, I don't suggest you find a lover. That creates problems of another sort. What I will do is encourage you to find something you love that you can put your time and attention into. What is it that makes you happy, Elizabeth?"

She blinked back the tears that sprung up in her eyes. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

Ignoring his shock, she said, "There's nothing I enjoy doing enough that will make up for a life of misery with Lord Roland."

His expression grew sympathetic. "Perhaps Lord Roland will be better than you assume."

She glowered at him.

He didn't say anything. He simply continued to lead her down the path, his touch remaining gentle on her elbow.

***

I T WAS HER WEDDING day. Duncan ordered the maid to select her prettiest gown, saying that though she was in mourning, she ought to wear something other than black for the ceremony. She didn't know what was so special about it. She was merely switching from one guardian to another. People might not refer to Lord Roland as her guardian, but that was what he'd be. To think of him as a husband would be to perpetrate a lie. She didn't have any fond feelings for him. Maybe a wife didn't have to love her husband, but she should feel some fondness for him.

Elizabeth allowed the maid to help her into the dark blue gown. Then she let the maid style her hair. Then she let the maid slip a shawl around her shoulders and pin a hat to her head. And then, the butler came up and helped the maid pack her things.

Feeling numb, she watched them. She should feel something about leaving the only home she'd ever known, shouldn't she? This bedchamber was where she'd spent most of her time. Why wasn't she going to miss it? Why wasn't she going to miss anything about living in this townhouse? Had her life been so empty that the memories in this place were empty as well?

A knock came at her open door. She looked over at the doorway and saw Duncan.

"The carriage is waiting," he told the servants before he turned a tentative glance in her direction. "Are you ready?"

What a silly question. She was all dressed up as if she was about to attend a ball. She offered the obligatory nod and stood up from the vanity. Without a look back, she left the room.

"It's a nice day," Duncan said, his tone light in an attempt to brighten the mood. "The shawl will buffer you against the breeze, but I wager you won't need the shawl once you're at your new home. It sounds like there will be quite a few people at the ceremony."

"I don't care who is there," she replied. "I just want this day to be over."

As soon as she said the words, she knew how foolish they were. After today, she'd have to deal with tomorrow, and that was bound to be as miserable as today. In fact, her entire future was just as bleak as the present.

Duncan, thankfully, didn't press her to talk. He simply led her to the carriage and helped her in. Then he settled next to her.

She didn't want to look at the townhouse but felt it was her duty to look. So she looked. And she didn't care that she was never going to enter that townhouse ever again. Her cousin planned to sell it. The money from the sale would give him enough for his business enterprises in America. At least one of them was benefitting from the place.

The carriage moved forward, and she drew her gaze to the people walking along the street. They seemed happy. Was that happiness real or a charade?

"Are you happy in America?" she asked Duncan as she brought her gaze to him.

She could tell he hadn't expected the question by the way he blinked in shock. She wasn't surprised. Up to now, she really hadn't taken an interest in him. She barely knew him. She'd only met him once before, and that was when she was a child. He had been on his way to the ship heading out to America, and he had come to tell everyone goodbye. She had believed he and George were friends since they spent considerable time talking, even well into the night.

If it was one thing she could do well, it was keep secrets. To this day, no one knew she had snuck out of her bedchamber and slipped into the library to listen to the two talk about their plans for the future. George had made it sound as if he was going to make wise investments. Little did Duncan know how good George was at lying. But, now that she thought of it, Duncan had mentioned how excited he was to go into the great unknown.

"Yes, I'm happy in America," Duncan told her.

"Happier than you were in London?"

He clasped his hands together. "I learned long ago to be happy anywhere, but I admit that I enjoy my life better in America."

"Why?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Since when do you care what I like or don't like?"

She shrugged. "I'd rather discuss this than spend the carriage ride in silence." He couldn't know how unsettling it was for her to have to marry someone she detested. He had never been asked to do it. When he left for America, this would all be behind him. The last thing she wanted to do was spend her time thinking of how her life was about to change.

"Very well," he began. "London has been around for a long time. It's established. Yes, it is growing. The middle class is bringing in wealth to people who used to not have it. But there is a sense of adventure in going to the unknown and seeing if you can make a life there."

She tried to wrap her mind around what he was saying, but his meaning eluded her. How could one call America ‘unknown' when plenty of people had inhabited it even before 1776?

"There are plenty of places in America that are just now being settled, and those places need things brought to them," he continued. "Men have made a very good living providing supplies there. For instance, there are settlements developing along the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers. Steamboats go up and down these rivers to deliver things people need in order to live. I just started a steamboat line going along the Missouri River. I believe as more people settle out west, the steamboat lines will become more important."

"Oh," was all she could think of to say. The topic was boring her, though, by the way his eyes lit up, it obviously fascinated him.

"It's about opportunity," he added. "There's no certainty. But venturing into the unknown can also give people a purpose. It's that purpose that motivates people to be the best they can be. There's nothing better than being excited to get out of bed each morning."

For the first time in her life, Elizabeth envied someone something. What would it be like to wake up with that kind of love for life?

The carriage came to a stop. They couldn't be at their destination already. She peered out the window and saw that they were outside a townhouse. Other carriages were parked along the street. A couple left one of the carriages and headed up the steps to the townhouse. Ignoring the footman who opened her carriage door, she watched as the couple entered the townhouse. They had to be guests for the wedding. They were dressed up too nicely for a simple outing. She grimaced. This had to be Lord Roland's townhouse.

"Elizabeth?"

Duncan's voice forced her attention to him. He was already outside the carriage, and he had his hand extended to her. "We don't want to be late."

She wished they would be late. In fact, she wished they'd be so late that Lord Roland would give up on waiting for her and marry someone else. Then he could make her miserable.

"Elizabeth."

This time, Duncan's voice had a firmness to it that let her know he wasn't going to let her out of this. She had to marry Lord Roland. All she could do was let out a heavy sigh as she allowed him to help her out of the carriage.

She took a good look at the townhouse. She thought she caught Lord Roland peering at her from the drawing room window. She glared at him. She only got mild satisfaction out of watching him squirm back into the room so he was out of her sight. The best she could hope for at this point was that he'd leave her alone. Sensing that bystanders were watching her, she lifted her chin in the air and headed up the steps to her new prison.