Chapter 7

Seven

“ D o you like running your own estate, Your Grace?”

Lady Chastity Berrymoore, Minerva’s younger sister, rarely spoke, so Cherie took it as a great compliment when the young lady asked the question. She looked up from the tea set, which she had just been pouring, to smile at her best friend’s sister.

Lady Chastity was sitting opposite her on the settee, next to Minerva, and went pink in the face when Cherie looked at her. She was so painfully shy that even though Cherie had known her for most of her life, she was still embarrassed to speak to her.

Chastity was only two years younger than Minerva and had just come out this Season. She and her sister looked almost identical, but their personalities were so different that they almost didn’t seem related.

Where Minerva was smart, exacting, opinionated, and unafraid to tell a man when he was wrong, Chastity was quiet, easygoing, and quick to agree with others. She was a pleasant girl, and Cherie had always been fond of her, but she was difficult to get to know. Her shyness was a barrier for most people, and Cherie wasn’t sure how well she would fare on the marriage mart.

However, as Cherie set her teapot down on the coffee table, she was determined to make Chastity feel comfortable.

“I do enjoy running my own estate,” she said. “It is nice to have responsibility after so many years of having nothing to do but decorate cushions and play the pianoforte. It’s challenging, to say the least, but I like a challenge.”

Chastity nodded as if she understood. “And the duke?” she asked, her cheeks still pink. “What is he like? Do you enjoy being married?”

Cherie hesitated. She had been married for two weeks now, and while there were many things she could tell Chastity, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to disillusion the young lady. She had just come out and probably excitedly looked forward to marriage. Cherie didn’t want to ruin that for her.

“The duke is a wonderful husband,” Minerva finally rushed to say, filling the awkward silence that had begun to grow between them. “Weren’t you just telling me how hard he works at maintaining his businesses?”

Cherie smiled quickly at her old friend, a current of understanding passing between them. Minerva was so good at reading Cherie that she always knew when to jump in and say the right thing when Cherie was at a loss for words.

“Yes, he works very hard,” Cherie said, forcing a smile as she turned back to Chastity. “It is wonderful to have a husband who provides for me and all my needs.”

Except my need for love .

“Now, shall we start our tour?”

Chastity nodded eagerly, and the three ladies stood and took their cups of tea with them as they began to wander through the house. It really was a sight to take in, and Cherie knew that it would keep Chastity occupied with all its splendors from the Far East.

And she was right: the young lady was soon busy walking quickly from one statue to the next, gasping in admiration over the colors and exotic artistry that she had never seen before.

“I should love to go to India someday!” she exclaimed, as she stood in front of a statue of a woman with many legs, who appeared to be dancing. “How marvelous it must be!”

“It’s hard to imagine someone as shy as Chastity doing well in India,” Minerva said in an undertone to Cherie as they lingered behind her sister.

“Perhaps,” Cherie said. “Or perhaps she would benefit greatly from the independence it would afford her. Maybe she would finally come out of her shell.”

Minerva nodded thoughtfully. “That is one possibility. But then she would have to marry a man who wants to go to India.”

Cherie sighed. “It is unfortunate that ladies cannot travel on our own to distant lands. We are entirely at the whim of our husbands…”

“Speaking of husbands, how are things going?” Minerva asked, eyeing her. “Really?”

“Really?” Cherie sighed again. “I suppose it could be worse. We have not spoken much since our wedding. And our routines could not be more opposite. He usually rises early and goes riding, then he takes breakfast alone and works until the afternoon when he goes to his club. He is always home late and again, has supper alone. I am the opposite. I rise late, then receive callers, then go for a ride in the afternoon, then take supper in my room.”

She didn’t mention anything about the nighttime, when she would lie awake for hours, wondering what it would be like to share a life with a husband that she actually loved.

“Don’t you want to have supper with him?” Minerva asked. “Maybe if you got to know him better, the marriage might be more pleasant.”

“I do not want to give him that satisfaction,” Cherie said, folding her arms. “And I am still too angry at him to desire to spend so much time in his presence.”

“You must let go of this anger,” Minerva said, surprising her. She was watching her younger sister admire several paintings, her expression thoughtful.

“How can you say that?” Cherie snapped. “You know what he did to me! Aren’t you on my side?”

“Of course I’m on your side,” Minerva said, turning to face her. “That’s why I’m advising you to let go of your anger. You are only making yourself miserable by holding onto it. It is done. You are married. There is no going back. So, you can either make the best of your situation, and try to get along with your husband, or you can keep this anger up, and doom yourself to a life of unhappiness.”

Cherie bit the inside of her cheek to keep from lashing out at her friend. She knew, deep down, that Minerva was right. It was just difficult to hear it.

“I know that I know nothing of marriage,” Minerva continued. “So, forgive me if this is overstepping. But now that my sister is considering marriage, I find myself thinking often of what it must take to make a relationship work over such a long period of time.”

“Hopefully your sister’s husband will not do what the duke did to me,” Cherie said.

“Yes, hopefully. But all marriages have resentments and betrayals,” Minerva said wisely. “And he will surely do something, at some point, which angers her. And she will have to choose to let go of that anger, eventually, if she wants to be happy.”

Cherie sighed and took her friend’s arm. “You know, you’re a very wise woman,” she said. “You’re going to make a man very happy someday.”

Minerva laughed. “I am afraid that after your wedding, we wallflowers are feeling rather uninspired to help one another find matches. So, for now, I am focusing on Chastity.”

“Does that mean she has met someone?” Cherie asked curiously.

“In fact, she has.” Minerva smiled. “It is actually one of the reasons that she asked to accompany me here today.”

“Oh?” Cherie was surprised. “And why is that?”

“The man in question, Lord Joshua Dawson, is apparently a friend of His Grace’s. Chastity wondered if you might be able to ask your husband if he could arrange a promenade between the two of them.”

“Lord Joshua Dawson…” Cherie couldn’t put a face to the name. “I don’t know him. He is a friend of the duke’s?”

“According to Chastity, yes. But fear not that you don’t know him. He is as introverted as my sister is.” Minerva laughed. “The perfect match, don’t you think?”

“Indeed. Have the two been introduced?”

“Not formally. They spoke briefly at a ball, and Chastity had to do some sleuthing to find the man’s name. We were hoping the duke would make the introduction.”

“I will certainly ask him,” Cherie promised. “I’d like for somebody to have a love match, after all.” She squeezed her friend’s arm and leaned in conspiratorially. “However, it does not mean I won’t dread having to speak to the man.”

Minerva shook her head. “I see you’re not going to take my advice then, and let go of your anger?”

“But I promise that I will consider it,” Cherie said. “In due time.”

The knock on his study door surprised Thomas, and he looked up from the paperwork he had been poring over, his eyes a bit out of focus.

How long have I been working? He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and stretched. What time is it anyway?

But he’d only just glanced at the clock by the door when the knock sounded again.

“Come in, come in,” Thomas said hurriedly.

The door creaked open, and to Thomas’s surprise, his wife appeared in the doorway.

“Cherie!” he said, forgetting, in his shock, that she didn’t like it when he called her by her given name. “What are you doing here?”

“May I come in?” she asked, looking dubious.

“Of course, of course.” He stood, and she entered the room slowly, looking tentatively around as she did. Her eyes took in a few of the things he had brought home from India, and they widened into pools of silver.

“That’s a kirpan ,” he said, as he watched her gaze at the small curved sword with the elaborately decorated sheath that sat on a blue velvet pillow near the door. “It is carried by Sikh men, wrapped in cloth and always worn sheathed, in order to symbolize the Sikh’s duty to stand up to injustice wherever he goes.”

Cherie’s lips parted slightly. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes,” Thomas agreed. “It is. The craftsmanship is of the highest level, and it is of great value as well. But of course, I would never sell it.”

“Why not?”

Thomas stood and joined her in front of the kirpan. They both gazed down at it for a moment, and Thomas was filled with a sudden nostalgia. He rarely missed India, but he did miss Raj. “It was given to me by my dear friend Raj.”

Cherie blinked up at him, surprised. “Your friend would give you something of such immense value?”

“Well, it was after I stood up for him and other Sikhs who were being discriminated against because of their religion. Sikhism is not the most common in India, and they face unfair laws and biases.”

Cherie nodded as if she understood this. “He gave it to you because he saw you stand up for injustice,” she said. “He sees you as a Sikh—in spirit, at least.”

Thomas stared at her, suddenly at a loss for words. “I think you must be right,” he said at last. “I had never thought about it that way. My assumption at the time was that it was merely his way of saying thank you.”

“It was deeper than that,” she said softly. Tears pricked Thomas’s eyes, and he swallowed the lump that was rising in his throat. How could I never have realized the deeper meaning of the gift?

It astonished and humbled him that Cherie had seen it.

“That was a difficult time for me,” Thomas explained, “and my friend Raj was very helpful in getting me to see the bigger picture.”

“Why was it such a hard time for you?” Cherie asked, and when she blinked up at him, she actually looked curious.

“I had just returned to India from England, and I was terribly homesick. It was the trip where we met at the tea house, do you remember? I’d wanted to stay in England very badly. I’d asked my father if I could set up our house in London and find a wife, but he refused.”

“I remember that,” Cherie said. “That trip to the tea house. You asked me when I thought my brother would let me make my debut.”

“Yes,” Thomas said, smiling slightly. I wanted to know when I could officially court you , he didn’t say out loud. “And then I didn’t see you again until I returned from India earlier this Season.”

Cherie looked softer and more forgiving than she had in a long time as she turned to him and laid a bare hand on his sleeve. “I didn’t realize you had such a difficult time in India. But I’m glad, at least, that you had good friends there to comfort you. And I hope you know you were dearly missed.”

“I was?” Thomas had once nurtured a crush on Cherie, but India and his father’s words had withered it at the roots. Or so he’d thought. But now, as he looked down into her eyes, he felt it stir.

“Indeed,” she said, more briskly, and her hand dropped to her side. “We were friends, then, or don’t you remember? Before you hoodwinked me into marriage.”

“Cherie—”

“I’m only jesting,” she said quickly. “I actually came here today to offer an olive branch.”

“Oh?” Thomas returned to his desk and settled behind it, while his wife took the seat opposite him. “And what exactly is this olive branch?”

“Well… I need your help,” she began tentatively. “Or rather, Lady Minerva’s sister needs your help. But because Lady Minerva is my friend, that means you are also helping me. And I thought that perhaps if you were to help me, that it might help us… attain a little more tranquility, at least.”

“So, it’s a bribe?” he asked, raising a skeptical brow.

“No,” she snapped, then took a deep breath. “No,” she repeated more calmly. “It’s an acknowledgment of the many ways in which our marriage is good for me.”

“I see.” Nothing about me is good for you , he thought with disgust, but he didn’t let this show. “And what can I do for you—I mean Lady Minerva—er, I mean her sister.”

Cherie smiled. “We hear that you are acquainted with a Lord Joshua Dawson. Is that true?”

“Lord Dawson?” This surprised Thomas, and he leaned forward with interest. “I am a little acquainted with him. Why?”

“I gather that Lady Chastity recently met the viscount but was not properly introduced. She now wants a proper introduction.”

Thomas still didn’t understand. “Yes, but why?”

“Why does any young lady want to be introduced to a viscount?” Cherie asked impatiently. “She fancies him!”

“Oh!” Thomas leaned back in his chair, thinking hard about this. “Well then, of course, I can help. Making the introduction will be no problem at all. It’s just that…”

“What?”

Thomas wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it. “I do not think Lord Dawson is a very good match for Lady Chastity.”

Cherie prickled at once. “And why not? You don’t know her, after all, so you can hardly have an idea of her character and the kind of man who suits her.”

“Yes,” Thomas said patiently, “I just think that Lord Dawson wouldn’t suit any lady. He is…” he searched for the words. “Odd.”

“I know he’s shy,” Cherie said, then her eyes narrowed. “But isn’t he a friend of yours?”

“He was childhood friends with a close friend of mine from university, but we are not well acquainted.”

Cherie tilted her head to one side. “So, you hardly know him, and not for many years, I presume?”

“Well…”

“Then he may be far less odd than you remember him being! And surely Lady Chastity, who has actually spoken to him recently, would have a better understanding of his character than you do!” She lifted her chin defiantly. “Or do you just enjoy trying to dictate whom young ladies should marry?”

“That’s a low blow and you know it,” Thomas said, eyeing her warily. After a moment or two, she relented and sighed.

“You’re right. I’m simply protective of my friend, and she wants her sister to have a love match. Truthfully, so do I. It is what I would wish for any young lady.” She looked away wistfully, and Thomas felt his heart tighten. “Speaking of which, I would like to present a united front when you make the introduction.”

Thomas tensed, even more wary now. “Meaning what, exactly?”

“Meaning that even though things have been tense between us recently, I don’t want to infect the budding romance of the young couple with whatever resentments and disagreements we have. I’m sure the introduction will be at a ball or a promenade, and I would like us to act as if we are happily married. We do not need to pretend that we are head-over-heels in love with one another, simply that we get along and are well-suited for one another.”

“There was a time when we did get along,” Thomas said quietly, “and I do think that we are well-suited for each other.”

Cherie blinked, and for a moment, he thought she was going to say something vulnerable and tender to him. But then she crossed her arms and said, “Do you think you can do that when we make the introduction? Act as if we’re happy?”

“Yes, of course,” he said at once. “Anything for you and your friends. You’re my wife now, Cherie, and whatever our differences, I’m always on your side.”

Cherie’s lips parted slightly, and this time he was sure that he saw a flash of something—maybe forgiveness?—in her eyes. She closed her mouth and smiled.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I am grateful to you for this.”

He nodded. “Anything you need.”

She smiled and then turned to go. He watched her with a sharp feeling of regret in his chest. If he could just speak to her truthfully, tell her how he really felt, tell her how highly he thought of her, then maybe he could make all of this right.

“Cherie—” he called out, just as she turned the doorknob.

“Yes?” She turned back around to face him, and he suddenly felt tongue-tied.

“I—” he swallowed and tried to speak again. “I never wanted this.”

I never wanted ours to be a cold or uncomfortable relationship. I never wanted to cause you this pain. But he couldn’t get the words out, and immediately, Cherie’s face twisted with anger.

“Well, neither did I, as I’ve made abundantly clear,” she snapped. “And if you didn’t want this, then you had every opportunity to call it off.”

She turned and stormed from the room, leaving Thomas gaping after her, wondering how he could have married a woman who never seemed to understand what he was trying to say. Wondering if she ever could come to understand.