1. A Sacrifice To Be Made

A SACRIFICE TO BE MADE

“ O f course, this is what I want,” Leah Moore said firmly to her younger sister. “I am to be married to a wonderful man, and we will start a family together. I can’t think of anything I want more.”

“I only… You look so nervous, Leah,” Bridget responded. “If you do not truly want to do this, you do not have to.”

“Bridget,” Ernest Moore, the Baron Prevost, snapped. “Why do you talk such nonsense? Do you not wish to be married?”

“I must be married, Father,” Bridget stated.

“Then why are you trying your best to plant silly thoughts in your sister’s mind?” Ernest demanded.

Bridget looked down at the floor. “I don’t mean to, Father. I am in love with a man and cannot wait to be with him for the rest of my life, and I only hope Leah feels the same.”

“It doesn’t matter if she feels the same,” Ernest said. “The union has been arranged, and I will be damned if it is called off at such a late stage. Grace is married, Leah shall be married next, and then it will be your turn. As it should be. Why would you say anything to jeopardize that?”

“I am not, Father,” Bridget pleaded.

Leah felt something kick her leg, and she looked over to see her mother staring at her. Her mother widened her eyes slightly and flicked her head to the side.

“Bridget, you have nothing to worry about,” Leah assured her younger sister. “I know I have not had the chance to meet His Grace yet, but I am sure I will become besotted with him in time.”

“How can you say that when—” Bridget began.

“Bridget!” Ernest exclaimed. “I will not have His Grace spoken about behind his back. I will not have idle gossip spread around when that is all it is. His Grace is a powerful man, and you will watch your tongue when you are in his home. Your mother and I have arranged this union carefully. It is what is best for our family, and if you continue to question this decision, then we will have a more serious conversation. Leah will be married, and then you will be married, and I will not hear another word about it. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Father,” Bridget mumbled, hanging her head.

Augusta Moore smiled dutifully. “Your father and I did not meet until right before our wedding, and I would not change anything about that. Look at our wonderful family. My life has been blessed, and I will soon be blessed with grandchildren.”

“You will, Mother,” Leah agreed.

Augusta placed her hands on her chest. “And you will marry a duke, no less! We really are so blessed.”

“We are,” Leah agreed again.

She looked over at her sister again and forced a smile. She needed Bridget to understand that everything was fine even when it wasn’t. She wanted Bridget to have the life she deserved with the man she loved, and if marrying the Duke was what it took, then she would do it.

If it had been her choice, she would have refused without a second thought. She did not want to marry the Duke and start a life or a family with him. When she thought about meeting him, her heart fluttered, but not in hopeful expectation. She was afraid of the man from the things she had heard about him.

Bridget looked back at her sister with a serious expression. They sat side by side in the coach, facing their parents, but for a few precious seconds, they faced each other and silently conversed. Leah took Bridget’s hand and squeezed it gently. She imagined the happiness her sister would gain and tried to express it through her own smile.

Bridget finally smiled at her, and her eyes softened.

Leah let go of her sister’s hand and looked out the window. The countryside rolled past, and as it did, her past was dragged with it. Everything blurred until it was no longer visible. It tugged on her present circumstances and launched her firmly toward the future. A future she had agreed to but one she had not chosen.

“You will make a fine bride, Bridget,” Leah said. “Before Grace left our house to wed, she told me the very same thing. I was not to be wed at the time, but it didn’t matter. I could see that she meant it, and I mean it as I sit with you here today. You will make a beautiful bride, and you will create a wonderful family. You are in love, and that will steady your ship as you sail forth.”

Augusta looked upon her two daughters with some pride. Ernest picked up the newspaper he had brought along for the ride and started reading it, but he looked over it from time to time to survey the mood in the carriage.

Bridget beamed, struggling to hold back her tears. “It is all I ever wanted, and you have made it happen. I know you will sail a steady ship also as you take this next step.”

The carriage rolled over a loose rock, and it swayed from side to side. Leah’s shoulder bumped into Bridget’s—not enough to throw them off balance, but enough to be noticeable. Both women looked behind at the fabric-covered interior of the carriage as if they might see the culprit.

Bridget giggled, and Leah feigned a smile, her dimples on show.

“What a funny coincidence,” Bridget said.

“Yes, quite,” Leah murmured.

She looked out the window once more. Leah was not one to take much heed of coincidences, omens, or other such signs, but it became all she could think about for the remainder of the journey.

They drove through the main gates of Harston Estate, but Leah did not take in the grounds. She focused only on Harston House, which looked more ominous the closer it got.

There was nothing untoward about it. The house stood two stories tall, mostly constructed from pale red bricks, but her eyes were drawn to the facade of the house, where four tall Corinthian columns framed the large oak double doors. Evenly-spaced, tall narrow windows lined the wall on either side.

Leah scanned the building, but she was not as interested in the decor as the man who resided within. As her eyes fell on the two figures standing before a handful of servants, she became disappointed. They were two ladies—the Duke was nowhere to be seen.

“I assumed I would meet him as soon as we arrived,” Leah noted.

“You will meet him soon enough,” Ernest noted. “His Grace is a very busy man, and he will greet us when he is ready.”

I only want to get it over with so I am no longer riddled with the anxiety of not knowing what he’s like.

“He is extremely handsome, from what I have heard. Not as handsome as my Frederick, but no one can compare to my Frederick,” Bridget added. "Even if he has been gallivanting with half of London.”

"Bridget!" Leah gasped. "Why would you say such a thing?"

“What did I say?” Ernest spluttered. “I will not tolerate idle gossip!”

Bridget’s eyes widened, and she lifted a hand to her chest. “I am sure it is not as bad as they say—we both know how the ton likes to gossip.”

“Leah, we would not promise you to a man who is not right for you,” Augusta said quickly.

“I know you would not, Mother,” Leah replied, trying to show a united front for her sister’s sake.

The footmen rushed to the carriage and opened the door. Ernest climbed out and then helped Augusta down. Leah waited for her mother to step away from the coach before she and Bridget climbed out. The four of them approached the two waiting women.

One was older, perhaps in her early fifties, and she wore a long, plain dress that covered her legs and arms to her ankles and wrists. She wore a serious look but did not look like a stern woman. The younger woman was younger than Bridget and wore a cautious smile. She had long, blonde hair tied up into a braid, wondrous and wondering eyes, and wore a fashionable and demure dress. They were obviously the Duke’s mother and sister. The Duke and his brother were nowhere to be seen.

They greeted Dinah Warren, the Dowager Duchess of Harston, and her daughter, Christianna Warren. The Dowager Duchess had a stern and keen look on her face, and Leah had the immediate impression she was a woman who saw and knew everything. Christianna stood demurely next to her mother, her gaze soft and trusting.

Leah curtseyed before the Dowager Duchess.

“Welcome to our home,” Dinah greeted. “Please stand so I can take a look at you.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Leah replied, standing up and looking demurely downward.

“You are a fine young woman. I am surprised you have not married yet,” Dinah remarked.

“I appreciate the compliment.” Leah smiled pleasantly. “I have not found the right man until now.”

Dinah smiled, but it was not a happy one. “And you know the right thing to say. You are all welcome to stay here for as long as you like. I understand the courtship is to be a short one, but the couple will need some time to get to know each other a little before the wedding. Mrs. Beaton, our housekeeper, will show you to your rooms. I ask that you join us in the parlor for some drinks once you are settled.”

“That would be fine,” Ernest replied. He looked from the Dowager Duchess to the large house behind her.

Ernest Moore had made the bulk of his fortune through astute business dealings, but he had not risen above the rank of Baron. Ernest looked around as he took everything in, holding his mouth closed tight so it didn't fall open.

“Right this way,” Mrs. Beaton, the portly housekeeper, indicated.

She turned and walked toward the large house as the footmen unloaded the luggage. Leah, Bridget, and their parents followed.

Leah caught Christianna’s eye as she passed. The young woman had a youthful innocence about her, and she smiled politely as Leah passed, but there was a twitch at the corner of her lips, as if her smile was forced.

“Right this way,” Mrs. Beacon said upon entering the house.

The guests followed, and all four of them could not help but scan the interior as they walked through it.

“What a wonderful place,” Ernest murmured as they walked up the main stairs.

“Perhaps it is not true,” Bridget whispered after she and Leah had fallen behind a little.

Leah leaned in to whisper with her sister even though she knew it was impolite. “What?”

“I have heard His Grace is in a bad financial situation, but you would not think it.”

Leah shook her head at her sister. However, she wouldn’t admit to her that she had thought it was why the Duke was so ready to wed the first woman who crossed his path. But she could not complain about that either. She had her own reasons for marrying him.

“We should not talk about him in his own home,” Leah chided in a low voice. “We are guests here, and we should act like it. We have been welcomed, and we shan’t do anything to make ourselves unwelcome.”

Bridget looked down and pursed her lips. She tensed up for a moment, before her shoulders slumped and she nodded. “You are right. I will not do anything to jeopardize this.”

And you have your reasons, too. We all have our reasons for doing things we do not want to.

“Yes, we shall not listen to any more rumors,” Leah added.

Leah knew that was easier said than done. She did not like the rumors, but she had listened to lots of gossip in the past—it was part and parcel of London Society. The rumors about the Duke’s finances were the least of her problems. His reputation was a far bigger concern.

“You are right,” Bridget gasped, trying to keep her voice down as they were led down a long hallway. “I should not be talking about him. He is not off gallivanting, of course, and if there is any truth to the rumors, they will be far less than what people say. I only—oh, dash it all. I am only making this worse. Please remind me not to put my foot in my mouth so often.”

“It is fine,” Leah assured her. “The rumors are either nonsense or have been greatly exaggerated. I take no heed of them. This is a lot to take in, though. Can you give me a moment to catch my breath?”

“Yes, of course.” Bridget pursed her lips again and patted her sister’s shoulder before walking quickly to catch up with their mother.

Leah stopped and turned to the side so no one would see her expression. She pretended to study the painting on the wall while fighting back tears.

I know they are rumors, but some rumors are to be believed, and some are not. I believe these ones. I am sure he is facing financial ruin, and I know he is a rake, and I must marry him!

Leah took a deep breath and composed herself. She wiped the corners of her eyes with her thumbs and blinked a few times. She licked her lips and tried to arrange them into a slight smile. When she was certain she wouldn’t break down, she headed in the direction her family had gone. She turned the corner, and her heart skipped a beat at what she saw—nothing and no one.

“No!” she gasped.

I have only been here five minutes, and I have gotten lost. What sort of first impression is that?

Leah composed herself a second time. It was not a massive problem, but she would rather catch up with her family than have someone out looking for her. She looked back the way she had come, but there was no door they could have gone through. She looked ahead again and strode off toward the end of the hallway.

When she got to the end, she did not see anyone, but she did hear them. They were in the bedroom not far down the hall. Their muffled chatter and the shadows of their figures drew her forward. She smiled as she walked. Bridget would tease her, of course, but she would accept her fate.

Leah got to the first bedroom and almost walked straight into the man who was exiting.

“Oh, my! I’m—” She did not have time to finish her sentence.

She tripped over her feet as she stumbled back, and the last thing she saw before she hit the floor was the man reaching out to try and grab her. Her rear hit the floor first, and she might have tumbled head over heels if the wall had not been close behind.

“My goodness! Are you hurt?” the man asked.

Leah looked up at the man towering above her, his hand still outstretched. She should have reached up and taken his hand, but she was unable to. All she could do was stare up into his grey eyes. She blinked once, twice. His eyes were a brewing storm, and with the storm came a flurry of emotions. Her stomach churned as she gazed deep into his grey irises.

“Take my hand,” the man ordered.

His voice was thunder from the gray clouds, and as soon as the words rumbled through her, she reached up and took his strong hand. And her eyes wandered. They moved down to his stern smile, then to his broad shoulders, and finally settled on his muscular chest.

Leah almost gasped.

His shirt was hanging open, the top few buttons undone. She felt herself being lifted from the floor, and the fabric of his shirt parted further. All she could think about was reaching out her free hand and putting it on his chest. She wanted to feel the warmth, to run her fingers through the tufts of hair. She wanted to be pulled closer to inhale his scent.

Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. These new forbidden thoughts were terrifying to her. If she had heard another lady speak the thoughts she was thinking, she would have been scandalized. She could barely believe she had such a thought, and she tried to control her emotions without much success.

Am I not a lady? I can’t be a lady if I think such things!

“I still need to find my cravat,” the man stated as he steadied her.

Leah gave her head a shake, trying to get a hold of herself. Still, she could not take her eyes off his bare chest. She unintentionally licked her lips, and a deep hunger rose inside her.

She almost jumped back when the touch on her chin sent a spark of euphoria through her body. It only registered that the man’s fingers were cupping her chin when he gently tilted her head upward so she was looking him in the eyes again.

It did little to quell the stirring in her chest. He looked at her as if he might devour her, and if he did, she would be powerless to resist.

“My eyes are up here,” he said with a wink. “Do you have trouble keeping your eyes off men’s bodies?”

Leah’s face flushed bright red. Then, a horrible thought popped into her head. She had no idea who the man was. She had hoped he was the Duke, but what if he were someone else? She knew the Duke had a brother. What if she had ruined everything by ogling another man?

He stood with his fingers still on her chin. She should have stepped back, in case she was found—whether he was the Duke or not—but she was entranced.

His firm touch rooted her to the spot, but she knew she could not stand there and be beguiled by the mystery man.

“Who are you?” Leah demanded.