Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

D iscomfort practically oozed from Lady Arabella’s pores as they made their way back to the ballroom. Harry’s mind was still swirling. He was engaged.

How in the world did he let this happen? It was fairly obvious that this was some sort of trickery, some preconceived plan on Worcester’s part. How foolish of him not to have noticed.

This wasn’t the first time Harry had fallen for such a scheme, but usually, it was the mamas who orchestrated them, and the daughters simply went along. However, Lady Arabella appeared utterly distraught by her father’s actions and genuinely shocked. It was either that or she was the best actress in the entire realm. Not that it was impossible, but he had a feeling she was as surprised by all of this just as he was.

The dislike she felt for her father was palpable. Indeed, Harry had heard rumors about the Earl of Worcester, though he had never met him before today. It was said that he was a drunkard, someone who had lost his way after the death of his wife. A man who was not well-liked or held in high esteem.

Often, rumors had a habit of growing quite on their own, not matching what one found in reality. Harry had to admit that Lord Worcester—at least from what he had witnessed so far—lived up to his reputation.

“Pardon?” said a voice beside him, and he looked down.

Arabella looked quite dreadful, and he feared she might faint.

“Do you need to sit down? We can go back to the garden,” he suggested with a shrug. “We are engaged now, so nobody will care.”

She shook her head. “No, I fear my father is going to make an announcement,” she gritted out.

Indeed, her father had just approached Lord Hawthorn, their host, and was whispering to him.

Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I do beg your pardon. I really do. I was not a part of this,” Arabella mumbled.

“I know, I believe you. By Jove, here comes the master of ceremonies to announce the news. Put on a brave face, and we will get through it.”

“Why did you agree to this?” she asked as he looked down at her again in anticipation of the grand announcement. “Why did you agree to marry me? You could’ve simply walked away.”

“And Lady Lawrence would’ve told everyone that she saw me defile you. You would’ve been ruined.”

“And so? You do not know me. For you, it would’ve just been any other day. Tomorrow morning, you would’ve just woken up with another notch in your belt. Something else to brag about even if it didn’t happen.” She shrugged.

It was true. He could have simply refused. He could’ve walked away. Nothing would’ve happened to him. He was a man. More importantly, he was a duke. In the aristocracy, he was one step below the royal family. There was little he couldn’t do.

But Arabella would have been ruined. Not just her, but her family. Harry had gathered that she had sisters—he had seen them earlier. When a young woman’s reputation was ruined, it reflected on her sisters, older or younger, married or single. Everyone in the family, anyone associated with that young lady, could have their entire life ruined by a horrible scandal. And this would’ve been one.

No matter how hard he denied it, if this was Lord Worcester’s plan, the man would have continued to repeat the lie that Harry had defiled his daughter. And Lady Lawrence? Harry knew the woman. She gossiped as much as she needed the air.

Proposing to Arabella had been the right decision for her family. And for him? Well, he hadn’t been looking to get married anytime soon. Not before certain affairs were settled. However, if word about what he had supposedly done got out and her reputation was ruined, he wouldn’t have been able to look himself in the mirror.

Besides, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from thinking… What would Helen think if she heard that he had ruined a young lady? Even if it wasn’t true? If she knew that he had allowed a young lady to fall into disgrace when he could’ve saved her, she would’ve been so disappointed.

She would’ve looked down on him. He couldn’t bear that.

The bang of the ceremonial staff drew his attention before he could answer Arabella’s question, and he took a deep breath, steadying himself for what he knew was to come.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Lord Hawthorn stepped onto the dance floor and clapped his hands together. “I do apologize for interrupting your entertainment, but it is for the most joyous of reasons. Lord Worcester would like me to share the happy news that his darling daughter, Lady Arabella Hayward, has agreed to marry the Duke of Sheffield!”

For a moment, silence fell over the ballroom, and Harry felt a prickle at the nape of his neck. Several pairs of eyes turned toward him and Arabella, and whispers rose among the crowd.

“Lady Arabella?” someone asked behind him.

“But she is the third daughter. The other two are not even married yet,” someone else pointed out.

“Indeed. And the Duke agreed to marry one of the Hayward sisters, when he could marry another duke’s daughter?” another voice said.

Arabella grew ever paler. She pressed her lips together into a thin line and stared down at her feet.

Something needed to be done. Something to put a stop to the rude comments.

Harry sighed and clapped his hands together once. “Thank you, Lord Hawthorn. I could not be happier, and I have my darling Arabella to thank. Thank you all for your kindness,” he said pointedly and looked around.

It took another second, but then the crowd erupted in applause.

The music swelled, and the orchestra played once more. Harry turned to Arabella. “Don’t look at anybody else. Let us dance, focus on one another, and that is it. We will forget all about these jesters.”

She smiled and followed him onto the dance floor. He placed one hand on her back and clasped her hand with the other, leading her in the dance.

It was almost as if she were not quite there, her eyes distant. No wonder, this had to have been a shock for her as well. If there was any doubt in his mind that she had been in on this, her reaction would have proven it because she looked genuinely in shock.

“I do not understand why you agreed to this—you did not answer me yet. Why?” she mumbled.

“Because I could not let a young lady be ruined because of something that was not her fault. Even if it was not my fault. Truth be told, I had no intention of getting married anytime soon, if at all. But I am a duke, and it is expected of me anyway,” he explained.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “I do not know what to say. I feel terrible that you have been drawn into all of this. This was my father’s doing. It was a trick played on both of us. I was not part of it.”

“I know. I believe I am a good judge of character, and I can tell that your father is…” He shook his head. He had almost said that her father reminded him of his uncle Richard, but it was better that she did not know too much about his family relations. “I know your father is unpleasant, domineering, and thinks he knows what’s best, even though he does not.”

Arabella looked at him, her lips slightly parted.

“It is perfectly all right to tell me the truth. We are engaged to be married—I would rather know what sort of family I am marrying into. And do not worry, I will not change my mind. The whole ballroom heard me declare that I am more than pleased to marry you.”

She paused, her eyes darting around the ballroom for a few moments before she spoke. “My father is a drunk,” she said quietly. “He decided that I had to find a husband tonight. I told him it was ludicrous, absolutely ludicrous, but he would not listen. He drove my brother away, my sisters hate him, and none of us can wait until the day we can leave the house. And if you had not agreed to marry me, we would have been sentenced to a life of misery in his house until… until we were released.” She said the last few words very quietly, but he understood their meaning.

Harry suddenly felt fortunate for having done what he did. He didn’t want to be married. Indeed, Arabella would most certainly complicate his life. But he couldn’t go back on his word now.

“Lady Arabella, I don’t like what I’m hearing. It must be dreadful to live a life like this. But rest assured that you will soon be moving out of your father’s house. As for your sisters… a connection to a duke is always advantageous, especially when it comes to looking for husbands.”

“I am so grateful. If I could find husbands for them with your help, perhaps we would have a chance of being happy… I mean, my sisters would be happy. Although I am sure life with you will be wonderful, indeed.”

“Oh no.” He had to stop her immediately before she got her hopes up. “Arabella, I promise you that you will not have to return to Hayward Manor again. I promise you that I will help you find husbands for your sisters. However, I must be very clear. I meant what I said. I did not wish to be married, and I do not want to be a husband. This is not a marriage that will ever turn into a love match of any kind. This is an arrangement. It will always be an arrangement.”

He paused and watched her quietly, noting the way her jaw ticked slightly.

“I will make you feel comfortable at my home. I will make sure that you are treated properly as a duchess, but you and I will not have any happiness of any kind. We will not live as man and wife. We will keep our separate quarters, and we will live our separate lives. As for an heir… that is something we can discuss in the future.”

The idea of having a child with her was disconcerting. She was beautiful, but he always thought of his dalliances with ladies as fleeting pleasures, not part of a transaction.

Pushing the thought away, he turned his attention back to her. “I thought it best that I am honest with you so that you do not get false ideas.”

“I do not have false ideas. I understand, Your Grace.”

She fell silent as they finished their dance. When they parted, he bowed to her and paid her farewell. A few minutes later, he saw her rush out of the ballroom, with her father and two sisters behind her.

There she went, his fiancée. Who would’ve thought?

“What have you done?” his uncle’s voice hissed behind him, and he turned around. “You are engaged to Lord Worcester’s daughter? Have you lost your mind? You could be married to a duke’s daughter. If we play our cards right, you could marry anyone?—”

“I have chosen,” Harry declared, cutting him off. “It is Lady Arabella Hayward. She is my betrothed. The whole ballroom knows it. Tomorrow, it will be all over the scandal sheets. I do not have to consult you about every little thing in my life, Uncle Richard,” he said, watching his uncle grow a deep shade of red.

“You… You… Everything I’ve done— everything I’ve done… making the dukedom as powerful and as wealthy as it is now—it was all for you.”

“No. All of it was for you . For your status, for your acclaim. And do not act as though the dukedom was in disarray when you took over. My father was a good duke, I am a good duke, and one day this dukedom will pass on to my son. Now I found a wife.”

The thought of having a wife had been disconcerting moments ago, but as part of a plan to antagonize his uncle, it was quite useful.

His uncle narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I hope you understand that this changes nothing. This woman changes nothing. And if you know what is good for you, you will ensure that our secrets remain between us. She might be your wife, but she will never be family.”

Harry swallowed hard, watching his uncle walk away. The momentary feeling of victory evaporated as he thought of the secrets they kept. The secrets his uncle kept. And what might happen if any of those secrets were ever exposed.